Sold

A/N- This story is a reworking of an old marriage law fic by jabarber69 called “The Betrothal of Hermione Granger”. I read it, liked it and wanted the author to finish, but it never got picked back up. Tell me if you like it or if I should stick to my other stories. Thanks to everyone who reads! -G.C.

Hermione Granger was walking, dumbfounded, behind her new fiancé. The unbelievable position she was in kept playing over and over in her clouded mind as she tried to figure out a way to remove herself. The fact that her wand was completely useless at the moment forced her to accept the fact that the Ministry of Magic had in fact just sold her to Draco Malfoy as a means of forming good interrelations amongst purebloods and muggleborns. In retrospect, she should have seen this coming. The blaring headlines of the Daily Prophet and angry letters to the editor had all been leading up to something, but she had no idea that Rufus Scrimegour would actually put a law this archaic into effect.

As she followed the beacon of white blonde hair down the hallway, she thought back to the morning’s breakfast in the Great Hall and how different her life had been before she bit into her toast and marmalade. Before that moment, her only concerns had been as Head Girl, trying to organize prefect rounds between Slytherin and Hufflepuff and making sure that the first years from her house had adequate Transfiguration tutors. Now she had to worry about an upcoming wedding to a man she hated and who appeared to hate her just as much. Her jaw ached and her knees were sore, but the tears she had cried had dried on her face and she would be damned if the rest of Hogwarts ever saw those.


~~Earlier that morning…~~

Coming into the Great Hall, Hermione took her seat across from Harry and Ginny. Since killing Voldemort, Harry had become very quiet and subdued. He spent nearly all his time with Ginny, Hermione and Neville. Ron had died in the course of the summer’s events and there was an empty seat across from Harry and next to Hermione that always remained empty out of respect for the fallen classmate. Even though Ron was Ginny’s brother, it was Hermione that Harry could hardly look at after his best mate’s death. For years it had been the three of them and Harry had always imagined Ron and Hermione growing old together, bickering about S.P.E.W. in their nineties. Whenever anyone looked at Hermione they felt as if something were missing and Harry felt that it was his fault.

Hermione, of course, did not blame Harry. He couldn’t have stopped Bellatrix Lestrange from killing Ron anymore than Hermione could have stopped the terrorists that had blown up the tube stop her parents had died at. Everyone had suffered tremendous losses over the summer and Hermione knew that blaming never brought anyone back and that it was best to cherish the people she still had. The Weasleys and the members of the D.A. were her family now and she knew that eventually Harry would heal with Ginny’s help. For the time being, she threw herself into her role as head girl at Hogwarts. Blaise Zabini was head boy and although he wasn’t outwardly abrasive, he had no time to help the younger students with their worries and so that often fell to Hermione.

She had created a kind of support group for muggle born students and they met bi-weekly to discuss any hardships or homesickness that might be occurring. Hermione also had a small study group for Transfiguration amongst the younger students. She discovered that she enjoyed teaching and hoped to apply for an apprenticeship under Professor McGonagall.

As she sat there slathering her toast with marmalade the Daily Prophet was delivered and as soon as students read the headlines, a deadly hush fell over the room.

Marriage Law of 1148 Reinstated as Scrimegour Places a State of Emergency in Effect

The article that followed outlined the most ludicrous rules she had ever heard of and she’d lived through a period in which muggle borns were accused of stealing magic. Every unattached male between the ages of 16 and 46 was required to find a spouse. In response to the horrific war that had just taken place based on blood status, each male of pure blood status was required to find someone of muggle-born or half-blood status to marry and produce children with and vice versa. The whole plan was for pure blood status to be completely eradicated in England to prevent any other wars based on the prejudice. There was a list of eligible females in the paper along with their blood status. There were more details outlining the law, but Hermione wasn’t interested in them seeing as her name was not on the list of eligible females. She wasn’t about to complain, but she did want to discuss the reasons with the interim Headmaster.

Taking a bite out of her toast, she stood up, intending to make her way to his office when a large brown ministry owl landed on her shoulder and dropped a purple envelope into her hand before taking off. Hermione gave a nod to Harry and Ginny who were looking worriedly after her as she left the Great Hall and made her way to the stone gargoyle. On the way there she opened the Ministry’s letter, hoping that it told her she was somehow exempt from this stupid law. As soon as she could, she planned to visit the library and look for a way to eradicate this madness. What she read in the letter almost made her faint on the moving staircase.

Miss Hermione Granger,

It is the Ministry of Magic’s deepest pleasure to congratulate you on being the first of many newly engaged couples. Your bridal price has been paid and contract purchased by Narcissa Malfoy on behalf of her son, Draco Malfoy. Because of your status as the wizarding world’s most famous muggle born of the era and your fiancé’s status as heir to the most pure bloodline in all of Europe your betrothal will go a long way in achieving harmony in our society once again. Although your marriage will not take place for another two weeks, Mr. Malfoy will now share your quarters in order for the two of you to get to know one another better. Since you are now his responsibility, you may look to Mr. Malfoy for any needs or wants you may have. Your account at Gringotts has had his name added to it and you must notify him before making any future monetary or property based decisions. Although the Ministry does encourage affection between betrothed couples, it does not approve of those still in school consummating the relationship until after the marriage ceremony has taken place. Please exercise discretion whilst the two of you are getting to know one another. Congratulations on what the ministry is certain will be a path to matrimonial and life long happiness.

Sincerely,
Eckland Earhart, Secretary of Domestic Affairs

By the time Hermione got to the stone gargoyle, her shock had worn off and her brain was going over what she remembered of the article and looking for a way to extract herself from the situation. Professor McGonagall wouldn’t allow this to happen to her. The law had been created in the year 1148 and no modern day modifications had been made to it. Witches in a Ministry approved betrothal had no access to their own funds, property, or self-determination without the permission of their husbands. These witches weren’t even allowed to use their wands unless their husbands allowed it. Their husbands controlled every aspect of their lives from whether or not they could continue their education or hold a job or how their children were raised. Even worse was the fact that under this law, short of murder, there was nothing a wizard couldn’t do to his wife if she disobeyed him. It was legally impossible for a man to rape his wife under this archaic law.

However, because Hermione had not signed anything, she knew that this letter couldn’t be telling the truth. Because she was underage, her adult guardian would have had to sign for her and that probably fell to Professor McGonagall who would never hand her over to the Malfoys, not for all the tartan plaid in all of Christendom. True, she didn’t have an official legal guardian, but that would make it even easier to wiggle out of this situation and look for a way to put a stop to this law for all the other poor unfortunate witches and wizards. Thinking back to her support group she shuddered at the thought of some of those poor students being forced into marriages with bigoted families.

Hermione was so lost in thought that she didn’t realize that someone else was standing behind her until his shadow blocked the morning light shining through the stained glass window. As she turned around, she saw malicious grey eyes twinkling in delight over a trademark smirk. The fact that his handsome twisted features were highlighted by the red glow from the depiction of a large red dragon in the window made him seem doubly menacing. Hermione had to remind herself that she wasn’t afraid of him.

Leaning over, he spoke quietly, “The password is ‘crystallized pineapple’. I’m surprised the head girl didn’t know that.” As soon as he said the pass word, the doorway opened and the two students made their way up the staircase. “Then again, maybe you aren’t as privileged as you thought you were. There are still some things that being a Malfoy can get you that being one of Potter’s sidekicks can’t.”

“As head girl, I was well aware of the password, I just didn’t say it because I had a lot to think about before I came up. I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about hard thinking or hard work for that matter. If being a Malfoy means I worm and cheat my way through life, then I’m exceedingly happy to be one of Harry’s ‘sidekicks’. Besides, the only thing being a Malfoy can get you these days is general disgust from one’s peers and from what I heard from Pansy Parkinson, a venereal disease.” She turned her nose up in the air and prepared to knock on the oak door to the head master’s office when a vice like grip caught her upper and she was hauled into the very small space between the wall and Draco Malfoy’s equally solid chest.

“I wouldn’t act so superior, if I were you, but by all means, go right on ahead. It will only make taking you down that much sweeter. I assume you don’t know why we were called here.” He had been holding her arm for less than a minute, but she could already feel the cut off circulation and throbbing pain was making its way down her arm into her fingers. She knew that she would be bruised when he let go, but her eyes never once lost her defiant stare into his.

“I wasn’t called to the Headmaster’s office,” she hissed. “I came here to talk to him about clearing up a very disgusting, repulsive mistake.” With that, she jerked her arm away from him and strode into the office of the headmaster and took a look around the room.

Horace Slughorn was acting as Interim Headmaster until the school board could decide upon a proper replacement. Everyone knew it would be McGonagall, but for the time being, the old, walrus like man was the most powerful ally she had in the government. In addition to Professor Slughorn, there were four other faces in the room. Narcissa Malfoy, Professor McGonagall, a reporter and a tall, slender, shrewd looking man in Ministry robes.

“Ah, children, I’m so glad that you are here. Now we can begin.” Professor Slughorn used his wand to draw a pale blue loveseat in front of his desk and it hit the back of Draco and Hermione’s knees, forcing them to sit down. “As I’m sure you both know, you’re about to start a new path in life together. One that Mr. Earhart, of the Ministry, says is absolutely necessary in order to preserve wizarding society and to discontinue the bigotry that has plagued our society for well over a thousand years. Have you received your letter Miss Granger?”

“Yes, Professor, I’ve received my letter from the Ministry, but there’s been a mistake. I cannot and will not marry him!” The reporter took a picture of her and Malfoy and it was then that Hermione realized that Malfoy’s arm was resting behind her neck on the back of the loveseat in a gesture of ownership. He was studying his nails in a bored manner and looked at Mr. Earhart in an apologetic way. Hermione fumed at the idea that he was in any way affected by her behavior.

“I’m afraid, Miss Granger, that you in fact, will be marrying Mr. Malfoy. Your future mother-in-law has made all the arrangements and everything has been signed and sent through approval already. The moment you step out of this office, you will become young Draco’s responsibility. I think if you’ll just give him a chance, you’ll find that life together will be far from awful and it will set a good example for all the other couples. This is for the good of all wizarding society, young lady.” Mr. Earhart spoke in a tone of voice that reminded Hermione of a combination of Barty Crouch and Professor Snape; unyielding and condescending.

“No, it isn’t legal!” Hermione said firmly and she saw Professor McGonagall look at her with pride.

“I assure you, Hermione, every step of the process has been followed to last detail.” Narcissa Malfoy spoke and Hermione was taken aback by the use of her first name.

“It can’t be legal because underage witches and wizards can only be entered into a contract of marriage by a parent or legal guardian. All of my family is dead and according to Hogwarts tradition, my legal guardian would be my head of house and I’m quite confident that Professor McGonagall would never do something like this without my informed consent.”

“Precisely my words, my dear,” said Professor McGonagall as she glared at Mr. Earhart and Mrs. Malfoy over her glasses.

“But you do have family alive, my dear,” Mrs. Malfoy said in a falsely sweet voice. “We found your closest male relative, your head of household, and in accordance with the law we paid him the bride price of five hundred galleons and got his signature of consent. You were right, Draco dear, when you said she was the brightest witch of her age. And she’s so pretty, too, darling. It’s a good thing we got her early, I can’t understand why you had any reservations about this.” The beautiful woman practically purred in delight at her and Hermione suddenly felt like a bird in a cage in front of a very large cat.

“What do you mean she has family?” Professor McGonagall demanded. “Her parents were killed last year and both of them were only children whose parents were deceased themselves.”

“But her father had a first cousin in Brighton. When I spoke with him and asked him for permission for my son to marry his cousin, he was only too glad to see that she be taken into our family. He seemed very happy that his relation should be going to such wealthy, well-bred people. You can ask Mr. Earhart about the proceedings, he was there to over see it all.”

Hermione’s heart sank. She remembered meeting her father’s cousin Ernie when she was very small. Ernie had looked them up and it was clear that he was a social climber who was only interested in any political connections he might gain. Once it became clear that Marcus Granger was upper-middle class with no high powered connections, Ernie was no longer interested in keeping up family ties. He hadn’t even bothered to show up to her parents’ funeral and this man was making decisions about her life. Of course, all he’d had to do was sign his name and he got roughly three thousand pounds. He would probably do it again in a heart beat.

“Well, Miss Granger, I can understand your reluctance, but I’m afraid that according to the law, you do in fact have to marry Mr. Malfoy. I knew his grandfather, Abraxas, lovely man. The Malfoy family seems very keen on having you join them, so I imagine it won’t be that awful. Do try to make the best of it.” With that, Professor Slughorn dismissed the group and Draco took her by the elbow and led her from the room.
The second they got to the top of the staircase, Hermione jerked her arm out of his grasp and quickened her steps down until she reached the back of the gargoyle. She was about to step out, when a hand caught the back of her robes and drug the next few steps out the door and into a deserted class room. He gave her a shove and she went sprawling on her back, her legs spread and her underwear on clear display. Getting to her feet, her face flushed, she glared at him and went to push past him when he grabbed her again and threw her against the wall. Seeing that his height and large build were a major advantage for him, she drew her wand and pointed it at him.

When her spell didn’t work wordlessly, she pointed it at his grinning maniacal face again and shouted, “Reducto!”

She could feel the magic move through her body and down her arm, but it was as if it got stuck in her wand. Horrified, she shouted a number of hexes at him and with each failed one, he got closer to her. Finally, he reached out and ripped her wand from her hand and sent it flying across the dusty, unused classroom floor. Towering over her, he drew his hand back and his large palm connected with her soft cheek with a loud crack.

“That, was for third year,” he whispered menacingly before drawing back his hand again to deliver another smack. “That was for disrespecting me in public. Do it again and I will do so much more than slap you, understood?”

Hermione could only look up at him dazed. Her lip had split on the second slap and blood was forming. She sucked herself into the wall when his hand came forward and his thumb brushed the spot of blood away. He smirked at her response and ran his hand along her jaw line.

“Your wand won’t work unless I give you permission and if you want permission, you’d better work hard to get back in my good graces.” He kept running his hands over her body as he looked at her appraisingly. Taking out his wand, he pointed it at her and her robe slid itself off her shoulders.

“Strip,” he said in a calm, bored manner.

“What?” she said, certain she’d misheard him. He couldn’t have any interest in her sexually. For the past seven years he’d taunted her about how ugly she was.

‘Strip,” he said again. “I want you to take your clothes off so that I can see what I’ve just bought. I want to inspect my property and see that it hasn’t been damaged.”

Now she understood that it wasn’t about sexual urges, it was about his need to humiliate her. “If you want that,” she spat at him haughtily, “why not just use your wand and get it over with?”

Suddenly she felt a jolt through her body, almost as if she’d touched a wall socket with wet hands. It was painful, but not debilitating. When it was over, she looked up at his eyes and for a split second, she wished she hadn’t been so defiant. He brought his wand to her throat and pressed the tip against her pulse point.

“I told you to strip and seeing as I now own you that should be reason enough for you to do it. However, if you continue to make this difficult, I not only won’t allow you the use of your wand, I’ll take you out of school altogether but only after I’ve used my wand to get what I wanted with a few more ‘fulgurous’ hexes thrown at you for good measure. I also might invite Blaise Zabini in to watch as I take what I want. He’s had a thing for you since fourth year and I’m not opposed to sharing and letting my best friend in for a viewing.”

Hermione gulped and stepped forwards from the wall. She knew that the fulgurous, or lightning hex he’d put on her had been a light one. It was like the play school version of the Cruciatus. It wasn’t so much the fear of being hexed again that made her move, but the promise of being wandless and taken out of school. With numb fingers she removed her sweater and took off her shoes and socks, organizing them in a small pile next to her.

“That’s my girl,” Malfoy drawled in a low, sarcastic voice. “I knew you wouldn’t want to keep your man waiting.”

Not even looking at him, Hermione unbuttoned her white school blouse and slid it off her shoulders. If she heard Malfoy’s intake of breath, she didn’t show it. She had large, high, firmly rounded breasts that spilled over her white lace bra. Her skin still had a slight glow to it from her summer in the south of France and she had one beauty mark on her rib cage that was the only interruption to her flawless skin.

“Don’t be a tease, darling, lose the skirt.” Malfoy wasn’t looking at her face, but rather at her legs as she unbuttoned her school skirt and let it drop to a puddle at her feet, leaving her in her light pink bikini style lace underwear. “Merlin, Granger, where the hell have you been hiding all of that?”

He stepped forwards and reached around her to remove her bra with an expert flick of his wrist. Her breasts bounced free and the cool air reached her nipples, making them pucker slightly. She crossed her arms over her breasts as her face turned scarlet. It was one thing to hurl insults at Malfoy while they were both fully clothed, it was a different thing entirely to be defiant when not only was she almost starkers, but she had no use of her wand. He was running his hands over her smooth skin and it appeared that he liked what he saw. He paused briefly at the finger shaped bruise he’d earlier made on her upper arm and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Nice, Granger. Now let’s lose the knickers so I can get on with my inspection.” He took his wand and stuck it under the waist band of the lacy cloth and slid the material down her legs. He had her step out of them and Hermione fought the urge to cover herself when he stared, almost dumbfounded at the neatly trimmed hair that covered her sex. He scared her when he reached out and jerked her over to a desk, picking her up and setting her on top of it.

“I have to say, I thought you’d have a chastity belt with a rusted padlock and moths flying out of your knickers. These are a pleasant surprise,” he grinned before pocketing the pink, lacy material. “I’m also pleased and disturbed at your grooming habits. Exactly how far did you and the weasel go? I don’t fancy the idea of being married to sloppy seconds.”

“Don’t even talk to me about him, you perverted bastard!” For the first time since the maddening day had started, tears formed in her eyes. Something that was supposed to have been special and shared with someone she loved was now being forced upon her by someone she loathed.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Malfoy just pushed her back so that she was leaning on her elbows, forcing her to uncover her breasts. He leaned over her and flicked his tongue out, tasting her tears and making even more come silently out of her eyes. He then palmed her left breast in his hand and stared greedily at her body. He pushed her knees far apart and knelt down between them, looking into her most intimate of places.

He stayed there, peering into her a few moments before he reached a probing finger out to spread her folds. When he found her to be dry, he looked up at her and Hermione thought she saw a flash of hurt flicker across his face before mock amusement set in.

“What’s the matter, love? Am I not ginger enough to get you excited?” Hermione could only glare at him. When she tried to back up he slammed her back to the desktop, holding her down with one hand wrapped around her throat.

Licking his fingers for lubrication, he slid them around her folds before delving his middle finger into her opening. About an inch and a half in, he was met with resistance and he tapped the thick piece of skin that was her hymen while looking at her, grinning.

“Looks like I’ll be the only man to ever make it into you, love. I’m so glad Weasley didn’t have the guts because I don’t think I could stomach fucking you after his dirty little prick had been in there.”

Not even thinking, Hermione flew off the table and slapped him in the face. “Ron is ten times the man you could ever hope to be, you twitchy little ferret! You disgust me and I wish I had gotten to sleep with Ron at least once before he died so that you wouldn’t want me and so that I knew what a real man felt like!”

He jerked her off the table and onto her knees so hard that when she heard the crack of her bones hitting the stone floor, she thought he had broken her legs. He had her wrists in one hand and with the other he pulled the zipper to his tailored trousers down and pulled his enormous cock into view.

“Does this look like a ferret cock to you?” he was very quiet when he spoke, but he took each of her wrists into his hands and let the long, thick member poke her in the cheek, leaving his pre-cum on her face. He slid it up and down her cheek, moving the head over her lips, but Hermione wouldn’t open her mouth. “Be a good girl, and suck me off.”

“No! The law says that we can’t consummate our relationship until after a wedding!”

“That only means that I can’t put this in your pussy to make a baby. I can still fuck you in the mouth and maybe, if you’re a very, bad girl I’ll fuck you in the ass. Now open that mouth of yours and no teeth!” Malfoy was rolling his hips so that his cock moved back and forth over her lips, leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum glistening over them. She hadn’t seen him look this happy since Slytherin had won the quidditch cup. Slowly, she opened her mouth and he took the opportunity to shove his thick member as far into her tiny cavern as it would go.

“I’ve always imagined shutting you up like this in class. You really are quite pretty, Granger and those lips look better wrapped around my cock than they do spitting out overly long answers in Transfiguration. Gods, where did you learn to do this?” Malfoy’s eyes rolled back before he closed them in sexual bliss.

This was not the first time Hermione had done this. Although Ron had never seen her fully naked, and the two hadn’t had sex yet, they had done a lot of experimenting and one thing she was quite confident of was her skills at oral sex. Ron and Draco were about the same length, but Ron had been slightly thinner and thus easier to take in her mouth. She’d done this plenty of times with her former boyfriend and she actually used to enjoy it. She swirled her tongue around the head of Draco’s cock and applied pressure to the underside as she sucked and pulled her mouth back. That was one of Ron’s favorite things and it appeared that Draco enjoyed it too, because he grunted and let go of one wrist and brought his hand up to tenderly stroke her hair. She took her now free hand and pumped up and down his cock, hoping that it would make him cum faster. It always did with Ron. Thinking about her first love while she had Malfoy’s dick in her mouth made tears fall from her closed eyes.

Finally, with a grunt and a tight squeeze on her wrist Draco came, spurting into her mouth. His hips jerked forwards and he held her head still so that she had to either swallow his cum or have it leak out the sides of her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could and gagged on it, making his final spurt land on her uncovered breasts.

Looking down at her with lust filled eyes, Malfoy said, “Gods, Granger. You were bloody fantastic. These next two weeks aren’t going to be as awful as I thought they were.”

~~~END FLASHBACK~~~


They finally got to the portrait of her head’s quarters and Draco gave the password before pulling Hermione in behind him. Dragging her up the staircase to what was now their shared bedroom, he shoved her on the bed and took off his robes, laying them over what used to be her reading chair.

Turning to her, he stared appreciatively at her legs before speaking. “Well, now that it’s settled that we are in fact going to get married, we need to go over a few ground rules.” He smirked at her and Hermione’s stomach dropped as she felt more hatred than she ever thought possible project towards the boy in front of her.


To be continued….