The Plan

Chapter 2: The Reactions

Hermione’s decision to agree to marry Malfoy was more of a headache than she originally thought it would be. And that was saying something because when Malfoy was involved, it meant a pretty bad migraine already.

The problem definitely wasn’t with their plan. No, she felt that was pretty fool proof, for the most part. The problem came when they had to actually announce it to everyone. In all her hours of debating over the proposition, even after she’d said yes, she hadn’t actually thought about what her friends and family would think. But when Malfoy mentioned meeting his mother, it suddenly hit her that people would actually have to know she was married to him. And, even worse, people would have to believe it.

She’d put it off as long as she could but after two days of constant pestering from Malfoy, she gave in and told everyone. The reactions varied across the board. Of course at first, no one believed her, but after a few hours, she finally convinced them. The Weasleys were the angriest, just as she figured they would be. Even though Malfoy had helped their side during the war, the two families never got over their differences and their hate was still simmering furiously in the cauldron. None of them offered unconditional support. Not even close. She argued and yelled with Ron, she defended Malfoy when the twins made their jokes, and she even defied Arthur when he asked if she was under a spell. It took all night and even by then, many of them were still upset. But, like the caring woman she was, Mrs. Weasley gave her a hug and told her congratulations, even if she didn’t mean it. She was Hermione’s angel because, despite not liking Malfoy, she still respected Hermione’s decision and understood she had her reasons.

And Hermione did have her reasons, though she couldn’t tell any of them that. Most of them realized there wasn’t any love involved in the match but Hermione still felt it safer not to explain the exact reasons for the marriage. A lot of her friends worked as Aurors or at the Ministry and practically all of them were part of the Order, so she didn’t want to tell them the full details of the plan. She trusted them, no doubt about it, but she thought it was best not to put them in any awkward positions. If they knew that she was really scamming the Ministry, and someone found out, not only would she be in trouble but they might be too. She wouldn’t do that to her friends.

The Weasleys’ reactions, though negative, were expected and, for the most part, she knew how to deal with them. But the reactions of her other friends were quite surprising. Harry was shocked at the announcement at first but after a while he seemed more amused than anything else. Even after he was convinced it was the truth, he seemed… giddy. Like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. And the more Hermione thought about it, the more she realized it was.

Hermione Granger marrying Draco Malfoy?! What was the world coming to?

But despite his amused attitude, Hermione could also tell he was slightly upset and extremely worried. He didn’t push her to give an explanation but he did make her promise that she would watch out for herself.

Telling her parents had been much harder than telling her friends because her parents didn’t live in the Wizarding World and didn’t understand any of her history with Malfoy. So, to make it easier on everyone, she decided to tell them that she was marrying him because she was in love. It was much less complicated than explaining she was being forced into it by her government. The problem with telling them that it was ‘real’ was their excitement. They were overjoyed that their daughter was engaged, and they couldn’t wait to meet him. She’d never actually thought about introducing them but when her parents mentioned it, she knew it was only a matter of time.

And then the subject of grandchildren came up. That crushed Hermione more than anything. She knew how badly her parents wanted them but it was completely out of the question with Malfoy. It wasn’t a real marriage. Her parents didn’t know that. So she was stuck lying to them some more, saying they wanted to focus on their careers first but children were definitely in the future. It was the best she could give them. At least until she really got married.

Hermione didn’t tell anyone else but a week later the announcement was in the Prophet so it didn’t quite matter anymore.

She hadn’t expected it to be as big of a deal as it was but everywhere she went, she got the looks. Mostly it was curious stares or whispering rumors, which she could understand, but the resentment was something new to her. She wasn’t blind to the fact that some people were furious she was marrying a former Death Eater, no matter that he had been a spy for the Order and that he helped save many lives.

His sins condemned him so far into hell that Hermione wasn’t sure he would ever dig his way out, marriage or not.

By the end of the second week, everyone knew and everyone had an opinion. Hermione was fed up and if that wasn’t bad enough, Malfoy kept pressuring her to hurry it along. He’d wanted to sign the papers immediately, not understanding why they had to wait awhile. To him, the sooner she had his name, the safer he’d be. But it didn’t work like that for Hermione. First off, if they wanted to convince the Wizarding World they were marrying out of love, or even out of mutual desire for companionship, they would have to play it like that. If they got married right away, people would realize it was just a ruse; a way to get past the new legislation. But no matter how long they waited to marry, Hermione realized many people thought that anyway.

Still, she persisted, but finally, Malfoy wore her down. So that was where she was headed.

Hermione’s heels clicked on the stone floor of the Ministry. It was her wedding day but she certainly didn’t feel like a bride. No matter, it wasn’t like it was real. That was why they chose to simply go to the Ministry and sign the paperwork. They agreed to dress nicely and have witnesses to convince the masses that they really were in love and their excuse for not having an extravagant wedding was neither of them wanted to do it the conventional way because of the hassle. Those who knew Hermione had no trouble believing that fact.

Walking into the room, Hermione saw Malfoy already there, standing beside Kingsley, who was going to conduct the ‘ceremony’. He’d brought his mother, of course, who stared straight ahead, expressionless. On her side, Harry and Ron sat not so patiently in the front, sending cold stares Malfoy’s way every few seconds. She smiled at them, relieved they still had their doubts about him. She definitely did and she was happy not be alone, though they didn’t quite know that.

She walked to the front, her pale sundress swishing around her calves. Harry and Ron stood and gave her hugs and though there were no congratulatory words, their presence was encouragement enough.

“You look lovely, Mrs. Malfoy.” Malfoy whispered in her ear as he placed a kiss on her cheek. It was all a show for Kingsley and the others and Hermione could hear the sarcasm just waiting to drip out of his words. She fought to keep her glare down and managed to smile at him, all the while shuddering on the inside.

Thankfully he didn’t touch her beyond that and everything went smoothly. They filled out their paperwork, Kingsley announced them as man and wife, and that was it.

That was it.

---

That wasn’t it. Not by a long shot. Even though their initial plan made it seem like they’d live two separate lives and only be married on paper, it didn’t exactly work that way. For appearances sake, they had to live together. What sort of sense would it make for a newly wed husband and wife to live separately? So Hermione, albeit reluctantly, moved into the manor.

She supposed it wasn’t the worst thing to happen. The manor was enormous and beautiful, a castle fit for a queen. Or a Malfoy. There were many rooms, including the most generous sized library she’d ever seen next to Hogwarts’. And with only two and a half arguments, Hermione had convinced Malfoy to start paying his House-elves a small wage, quite a success for her.

They had different rooms, something only the two of them and Mrs. Malfoy knew. She also lived at the manor with her son and Hermione couldn’t blame her seeing as it was the size of ten houses. Plus, her husband was in Azkaban. Even though Hermione wouldn’t have changed that fact for anything in the world, she still felt a bit sad for the woman because she was alone.

Hermione’s and Draco’s rooms were in the same hall, across from one another. They were in the smaller wing because Draco had let his mother keep the main one, which was fine by Hermione. Even the one hall was bigger than her entire apartment she’d had before.

Living together was purely for appearances sake. And Hermione found it almost funny because over the weeks she’d realized that most people figured the marriage was fake, anyway, though no one would come right out and say it. So everyone knew the truth but they couldn’t admit it out loud because of the fear they’d get into trouble by the Ministry.

The doubt was good and bad in her opinion. Good because part of her didn’t want people, especially her friends, to think she was actually in love with Malfoy. And knowing that they knew it wasn’t real made her feel good. Because they knew her. They knew she wouldn’t do something so foolish.

But the doubt was also bad. The Ministry wasn’t blind and they were also very skeptical of the situation. They didn’t say anything because really, Hermione and Draco had done exactly what they wanted them to, but they were still wary, keeping a close eye on the two to make sure nothing went wrong.

They’d had one close call and that was when Hermione explained to the Ministry that she couldn’t have children. To them, it was too much of a coincidence that two enemies would get married without have even been dating and then suddenly not be able to have children. But Hermione had gone to St. Mungos and gotten an ultra sound (a fake one, anyway) and when they had the proof in their hands saying that she was unable to conceive, they were forced to believe her.

Other than that and obvious suspicion, everything else had gone off without a hitch. It seemed almost too easy.

Of course, as they both soon learned, it wasn’t.

---

“You can kiss my arse, Granger!”

It was a madhouse. Hermione and Draco had never gotten along well and, as expected, there were many, many disagreements. And where the two of them were concerned, those disagreements always turned into volatile arguments. Over big things, over little things, it didn’t matter. They fought and fought.

The screaming didn’t stop when they were in public, either. Being married meant they spent more time together than either of them ever wanted. What with Ministry sponsored functions, meetings at work, and family outings, Draco and Hermione were almost always in each other’s presence. And that wasn’t even counting the time they were at home.

“I don’t want to go anywhere near your arse, Malfoy. You’d like that too much.” Hermione shouted back.

All she wanted to do was move a desk. That was it! And he went ballistic on her. She’d even asked him beforehand if she could move it and he’d said yes. But when he stalked into the library and yelled at her for moving it from the foyer, she’d realized Draco Malfoy was just a first class jerk. Simple as that. And it didn’t matter if he’d given his permission, he still had something to say about it.

It wasn’t the fighting that surprised them. They had fought from the first moment they met and they didn’t see why years later it had to be any different. But it was all of the other things that happened. They lived together and, as a result, they both unconsciously learned quite a bit about the other.

That was strange to Hermione. She had always had a certain perception of Malfoy and though her perceptions were correct on the surface, there was so much more underneath that she slowly discovered over the weeks being with him. He liked order, almost in an obsessive compulsive way. All of his papers and dishes and decorations and… everything all had to be in order. And when it wasn’t, he threw a hissy fit, something he was extremely good at.

Malfoy also liked food. All sorts of food presented in all sorts of ways. And though she loathed admitting it, it was something they had in common. They both appreciated rare delicacies and enjoyed trying new things.

She also noticed Malfoy was a morning person. She never expected him to be and so when she waltzed into the kitchen in her shorts and tank top after her first night in the manor, she was shocked to see him standing there, shirtless, drinking his coffee and doing some paperwork. Hermione, who was not necessarily a morning person, stared, mumbled something incoherently, and walked right back out. The situation had been more embarrassing than it should have been and neither of them knew why. Perhaps it was because they just weren’t used to having each other around. And they weren’t really husband and wife so the comfortable familiarity wasn’t there.

After a month, Draco and Hermione more or less started to ignore each other. It was easier that way and things had gotten so busy with their jobs that it was simple to focus on other things. They had finally accepted that the other person was a ‘temporarily permanent’ figure in their lives.

But that didn’t mean the fighting stopped.

“You’d be lucky to get near me you prude. Or maybe you aren’t even frigid, maybe you just can’t find someone desperate enough to give it up to someone as hideous as you.” He said, folding his arms across his chest.

“See, Malfoy! We have an argument and you turn it into a personal attack. All I wanted to do was move the desk into the library so I could do my work in here.”

“What gives you the right to move things around?!”

“I live here. What gives you the right to scream at me?”

“It’s my house!” Draco said as if it were final. Hermione definitely wasn’t done, though.

“I asked you if I could move it and you told me I could.”

“I didn’t mean into another room and I didn‘t mean permanently. What am I going to put in its place? You’ve completely ruined the foyer. Now I’m going to have to redecorate the entire thing!”

Hermione huffed and threw up her hands. He was a spoiled, selfish prat, and she’d had enough of him to last her a lifetime. She stalked out of the room, with Draco following, of course, yelling obscenities all the way down the hall. That was another thing she learned about him. Where she was willing to let things go, he wasn’t.

He yelled at her for another twenty minutes before she acknowledged him. The argument had escalated to more than just the issue of moving a desk and when Draco called her a ‘bloody Mudblood’, Hermione drew her wand, wanting more than anything to hex him. She barely contained herself and that was only because Narcissa walked in.

They stood silently in the living room, the tension thick and suffocating. Hermione lowered her wand but did not put it away.

“What is going on, here?” Narcissa asked her in gentle voice.

Hermione, having lived with both of the Malfoys for weeks, knew that her voice was the only thing she would ever describe as gentle about Narcissa. The woman wasn’t cruel or rude in anyway but they weren’t suddenly best friends, either. There was a coldness about Draco’s mother that only seemed to warm up when she was near her son. And though Hermione knew Narcissa didn’t particularly like her, the day she moved into the manor, she’d received a thank you.

It had been honest and that was all that mattered to Hermione.

“Granger started moving things around without permission. She has no right to touch my things like that. She’s taking over!” Hermione rolled her eyes at his declaration. He was such a baby sometimes.

“You gave me permission, Malfoy. I asked you two days ago if I could move the desk. I’m sorry that the foyer will be completely ruined without it but you’ll just have to deal with it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and Draco sent her a glare so harsh, she physically felt it burning her skin.

“Draco, dear,” Narcissa said, butting in, “though I don’t approve of Miss Granger moving things around without your permission, this isn’t her actual house after all, I do think we have a classic case of miscommunication here.”

Hermione didn’t have the energy to feel offended at her words. It was common knowledge among the three of them that there weren’t any positive feelings other than gratitude for Hermione and that was fine by her. With a quick scan across the room, Narcissa started again.

“I think perhaps this is a good thing, though, Draco.” He looked flabbergasted but she continued, “I’ve been quite bored with the Manor lately and I have wanted to do some redecorating. This is the perfect opportunity. I can completely redesign the foyer.” When she smiled softly, Hermione knew Draco was lost. With a whiney sigh, he shrugged his shoulders and conceded.

The battle was over. The war was not.

---

Draco was drunk. Not tripping-over-his-own-feet-slurring-his-words drunk, but his buzz couldn’t really be considered a buzz anymore. The warmth in his cheeks said that the numerous glasses of fire whiskey he’d induced were doing their job.

And so was the girl wrapped around him.

She was the waitress at the bar and after four drinks they were talking and laughing like they were old friends. Draco hadn’t planned on bringing her home but, like it always happened, one thing had led to another and now they were stumbling down the hallway on their way to his bedroom.

Draco kissed his way down her neck, his hands skimming the bared skin of her waist. She wasn’t a great beauty but there was something about her that lit his fire. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, he was ready to go.

The fact that he was married didn’t quite cross Draco’s mind. It was fake anyway. He and Granger weren’t sleeping together and he hadn’t had sex in over a month. He wasn’t a slut by any means but he didn’t enjoy the celibate life, either. He was a healthy young man who had needs.

“Mmm.” The girl moaned into his ear before she sucking it into her mouth. It felt hot and wet and delicious in so many ways.

Walking by himself in the shape he was in would have been a feat in itself but doing it while holding another person was almost impossible. He lost his footing and they fell back into the wall with a thud, both laughing their arses off.

“You’re drunk.” She told him assuredly, her voice light and airy from her giggling.

“Yes, that I am. And yo-”

“Malfoy?”

The voice was like a cold bucket of water. On his senses, at least, but his lower parts still had other ideas.

Hermione Granger stood in the middle of the hallway, her hair disheveled and her pajamas on, a very bewildered look on her face.

“Who is this?” The girl in his arms asked. She wasn’t in his arms for long, though.

“My wife.” He muttered, chuckling at the audacity of the statement. He was the only one who thought it was funny.

“What?! You’re married?” The girl put her hands on her hips and looked back and forth between the sleepy Hermione and wasted Draco.

“What is wrong with you? You picked me up and took me to your house where your wife was?! And why would you pick me up if you were married anyway?” The girl was raving at him and Draco lifted his hands to cover his ears from the sharp sounds penetrating them. The girl didn’t seem to like that too much and she screamed louder. Her words were garbled together but he knew they weren’t good. Before he could even register it, she stalked off and out of the house, the front door slamming loudly in her wake.

Hermione simply stood there, blinking, unsure of what to do.

She’d just seen her husband groping another woman in the hallway of their house and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On the outside, she didn’t care. If anything, she was slightly disgusted and the expression that formed on her face said so. But on the inside, a strange, unsettling feeling emerged and it was something she couldn’t quite place.

Hermione hadn’t been with any men since she married Malfoy and she had no intentions of doing so. The marriage wasn’t real but for one, finding love wasn’t her main priority, and for two, she had morals and honor. Even if it wasn’t real, she wouldn’t ‘cheat’ on her husband. It would be too risky and definitely not worth it in the long run.

Did she hold the same standards for Malfoy? No. She never expected him to stay faithful to a sexless marriage but she hadn’t figured he’d flaunt it either. It wasn’t something they actually ever talked about.

“Fuck, Granger, what the hell?” Hermione was snapped out of her thoughts by Malfoy’s angry words.

“Excuse me?” She asked, insulted that he had the nerve to yell at her.

“You made her run off!” He said, gesturing blindly to where the girl had stood.

“I did not. She ran off on her own accord. You are married.”

“It’s not real, you bloody bint!”

“I know that, but she obviously she didn’t. How does that make it my fault?” She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to back down on this one. Malfoy was definitely drunk and that made him even more irrational than usual.

“You showed up! Why aren’t you in bed or in the fucking library? Why did you have to come now?!” Anger and frustration built in his veins and he swung his arm violently into the wall.

“That is just ridiculous, Malfoy, and you know it. I’m sorry I interrupted your little rendezvous but if you want to sleep around then don’t do it in the manor!” She demanded.

They fought for many long minutes after that, neither giving in to the other. Draco was convinced it was her fault.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. He knew, deep down below his drunken haze, that it was an honest mistake, bad timing, but he wouldn’t ever tell her that. He was horny, damn it, and she’d made his girl leave. Now he’d have to go to bed, alone, again, and he sure as hell wasn’t happy about it.

Finally, not being able to stand her shrieking anymore, Draco stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door, hard enough to make the portraits shake.

Hermione huffily went to her room as well, her anger boiling over like water in a pot. She couldn’t believe he was accusing her. She couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to bring his affair home.

And she couldn’t believe how much she actually felt hurt. It didn’t make sense but it was true. The sharp pains in her stomach didn’t lie. Hermione was… sad. And if she was completely honest with herself, a little jealous as well.

Scoffing at herself, she shook her head and climbed into bed, refusing to give either emotion anymore thought. It was just the late hour that was making her feel that way.

In the morning, they didn’t say a word to each other. The incident was never mentioned again.