Taking Advantage

Nonentity: It's such fun to discuss. I've never done this whole fanfic thing before. Long-time reader, first-time poster and all that.



I figured that there was no need to discuss children in the documents because, should there be children, I've already arranged for the laws to prohibit divorce. Besides, the ministry gets a copy of the pre-nup, so someone might get suspicious. As for potion sabotage, all I'll say is that I think this Draco is too smart for that. It's the sort of transparent ploy my Goldstein might go for, and Draco's not above pointing that out, but my Draco is too smart to think that he or Hermione would ever be completely happy in their marriage if she knew he trapped her, and his ultimate goal is mutual bliss, of course. I also think he knows her well enough to suspect that he's not going to be able to keep too many juicy secrets from her. Did I give too much away?



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So she didn't want his money, but he already knew that, Draco thought, laughing as he returned the original settlement to the contract and added his signature beside Granger's. She'd have to take it anyway or Pureblood society would know something was up. A wizard of his station always made an extravagant gift of that sort to his betrothed, and if he didn't do the same, society would know instantly that his marriage was the sham Hermione wanted it to be.



In order to throw off the vultures, he had doubled the amount his father had gifted his mother, but Draco knew that this would be the most scrutinized Malfoy marriage in the family's history. They were going to be watched and discussed at length, and he'd much rather have them talk about what a good act he was putting on "pretending" to be besotted with the new wife that the current political climate made it necessary for him to marry than have anyone discover that he was furiously maneuvering to marry the girl he had wanted for over a decade. Everyone with any sense would assume that he was sneaking in a wedding under the marriage law wire, just as he had convinced Hermione. With any luck, no one would suspect the truth.



Draco summoned a courier to deliver the parchments to the appropriate ministry office. These documents were too valuable to trust to an owl. After they were properly filed, they would be nearly as binding as the marriage certificate itself. It was all Draco could do to let the courier he always entrusted without qualms with the most sensitive Malfoy Industries documents carry the documents out of his sight, but he had a fiance to woo and a wedding to plan. Reminding himself of that, he apparated to Honeydukes before the ink was dry on his signature.



After over a decade of close observation at every opportunity, Draco had no difficulty selecting the chocolates Hermione would most enjoy. No sickly sweet strawberry-flavored monstrosity for his love, and certainly nothing the Weasley twins would consider stocking in their thriving candy store offshoot from the joke shop that now boasted franchises in every large city in Europe. No, the future Mrs. Draco Malfoy savored the darkest of dark chocolate. He had seen the packages her parents sent her from a famous chocolatier in Belgium. It had always amused him to realize that all three Grangers assumed that the candy maker, if it was fair to name an artisan such, was a muggle. In reality, he was just one of the many wizards passing himself off as such in order to expand the market for his product. A few decades earlier he had even been censored by the Belgian ministry for adding just a touch of lust-inducing potion to the chocolates he sold muggles. True, it wasn't enough to do more than make a woman groan while the chocolate melted on her tongue, but the wizarding ministries rarely saw breaking the law in shades of gray. Draco made a mental note to order a large box of the chocolates that were now only available to wizarding customers for Hermione while the witch at Honeydukes sent his latest offering off to the stuffy office at Gringots where he knew Hermione was plotting.



As it turned out, she wasn't getting nearly as much plotting done as she had hoped. She desperately needed to work on an outline of what she wanted to tell her friends that night, but thanks to Vanessa, the most gossipy reception witch in the world, and the idiot courier from Malfoy's barrister, people now knew that Draco Malfoy, son of a dreaded Death Eater, was sending extravagant floral arrangements and mysterious legal documents to Hermione Granger, muggle-born member of the-boy-who-lived's inner circle.



Gossip and curiosity were running rampant. She knew that she might not be the first to broach the subject with Harry and Ron, and she assumed that she was in definite danger of not getting to let Anthony down as gently as possible before he figured out exactly what was going on. He hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw for nothing.



Just as yet another package arrived from Malfoy, this time a lovely golden box that was clearly from Honeydukes, Anthony stepped through Hermione's door. From the look on his face, Hermione knew the moment of conversation she had been shamelessly avoiding had arrived.



“Anthony,” she began, gesturing for him to take a seat. “We need to talk.”



“I've been saying so for days, Hermione,” Anthony bit out. “From what I've heard, it's none too soon for our conversation.”



“You're right, of course,” Hermione admitted. “I've been avoiding this, and there's no excuse for it.”



“If that's an apology, I'll accept it only if you agree to join me for dinner tonight to have the talk you've been avoiding.”



“Anthony, I have plans...” she began, only to be interrupted.



“For dinner. With Malfoy,” Anthony fumed. “So much for having our talk.”



“Anthony,” Hermione tried again, reaching out to touch his hand. “This isn't easy, but I have to tell you how much I value your friendship. I always have. Ever since our school days. It's just that we aren't right for one another, and today at lunch...” but he wasn't listening any longer.



“What is that?” he asked, looking at her hand.



“That's part of what we need to talk about,” she answered. “It's Malfoy's ... It's mine... I'm getting married. On Thursday, most likely.”



“I see,” Anthony replied flatly. “We're not right for one another, but you and Malfoy are a match made in heaven? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You're making a huge mistake. How can someone as intelligent as you are think for one second that this is the right choice?”



“Anthony, I never meant...”



“You never meant to give me a shot is what you meant. Forget it. I'll look elsewhere. Good luck to you. You're going to need it when Malfoy locks you up in that manor and throws away the key. Maybe Potter and Weasley will be able to help you when that happens. When you're ready to apologize and reconsider, you let me know. Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll be available again before the Valentine's day deadline.” With that, Anthony turned and stomped out of her office.