To Guest: I 100% agree with you, I'm going to be developing the situation further in the future chapters. Ginny had grown up around boys, she had to steal their brooms to be able to fly, they always protected her as if she was a porcelain doll, but all she wanted was to be able to play with them. I'm not trying to say they were wrong or sth, just that years later she feels the need to prove to them that she can make it. She feels vulnerable with that baby, it proves that women should be protected and cared after. That baby makes her fall from the top, it's the peak of her career, she has made it, proved herself, but the problem is that people would thinks 'yes, she is a star player, but at the end, she is a woman'. It's all in her mind, I know for sure all of her brothers would encourage her for any career and will never think less of her, she will always be a rising star in their eyes. But Ginny would not feel that way on her own. Everybody has insecurities and for me these could be hers.

I'm really glad you commented about this, because nowadays many women feel weak for being able to carry a child. It's the society that makes us think that but at the end it is a personal choice, and I wished to feature it in some way in this story.

To all other reviewers: Thank you! You make me so happy with your comments and I'd try to do my best and update as soon as possible.

"You never told us you had a bloody aunt!'' Ron crossed his arms and huffed, while Harry just raised his left eyebrow at her.

"Maybe because there is nothing to be told, Ronald!'' Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead into her palms. It was the truth. Every information she decided to tell about her aunt could end up catastrophically for both her and her parents and so many more people. Not that she knew much, but even the slightest bit of information was a death sentence.

"As we can see from her record.''

"Her magical record is not even supposed to exist.'' Hermione tried to explain, but Sirius was having none of that.

"Like her muggle non-existent one then, huh?

"Sirius!'' Remus frowned at the onyx-haired wizard, but Sirius just shrugged.

"Can't a bloke just ask, Moony? Merely curious here,'' Sirius narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "What reason could there possibly be for such confidentiality?''

"You're behaving like a petulant child, Padfoot.'' Hermione was quite sure she had never seen Remus roll his eyes at someone, but there was a first time for everything.

"Well, the witch got herself in this discussion, isn't that right, Miss Granger? If that is even your real surname?'' He pursed his lips as Harry snickered to her right which earned him a slap to the back of his neck by Ginny.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Sirius, can you for at least once not be such an immature prick?''

"Said the proper prude,'' Nymphadora laughed at the bitter face Remus made, while Sirius' wolfish grin became even more mischievous.

"That's enough,'' Hermione said sternly, she had quiet the experience with such situations. "I'm obligated by a law not to speak about her, but due to the unexpected turn of events, I'll make an exception,'' Ron snorted and Hermione stomped on his foot. "I'll answer three of your questions, Mister Black, and I'd expect from everybody in this room my answers to remain only between us.''

"Why had she not attended Hogwarts despite her letter?'' Sirius inclined his head after he had put his chin in his palm on the table.

"My aunt had told me that she did not feel it as her 'thing' in life, magic that is. My mother explained to me that Sange was quite the artistic soul when she was young and had more interest in drawing than in developing her magical abilities.''

"Woah, that's what I call dedication.'' Nymphadora spoke eyes cast down at the table, while Remus gripped her hand in his and squeezed lightly.

"I can't even picture something for which I would give up magic!'' Ron exclaimed, clearly putting a thought in it.

"That's because you had grown up in magical family, Ron,'' Harry offered him and Ron nodded his head uncertainly.

Sirius seemed to contemplate something on his own, but decided against it as he asked his next question.

"Does she currently live in London?''

"Yes, but she travels a lot.''

"I get the feeling as if she deals illegally with art, or forges it or both.'' Harry looked unbelievably at Ginny, she just shrugged and smiled innocently. "I may have stolen couple of Hermione's muggle criminal books through the years.''

"I knew it! I have not lost them nor had Ron stolen them.''

"I told you, woman, why on earth would I steal books from you. I don't even read this kind of stuff!'' Ron whined as Hermione apologised to him. Oops, just a small mistake on her part.

"Well, at least we know that her blank record is because of her job, whatever it is.'' Ginny yawned and leaned further back into her chair. Everybody turned to Sirius awaiting his last question.

"How can I meet her?'' To be fair, Hermione expected his last question to be more related to her job.

"You can't,'' the curly-haired witch told him bluntly. When all of them looked at her questionably, Hermione sighed and tried to explain it. "I'm quite sure she has other things on her mind especially now.'' She looked pointedly at Harry, but he made no indication of getting it. She could have used his help to extract herself from this current predicament.

"Well, she'd have to make some, because this law isn't going anywhere and I do not plan on being sentenced to death with whomever has been left unpaired. Because believe me, those who had remained without partners are not the pretty pictures.'' Sirius sighed dramatically as if it did physically pain him only thinking about it.

"Mostly criminals and fugitives,'' Nymphadora offered.

"Or death-eaters,'' Remus added.

"Or Dolores Umbridge!'' Ron looked way to excited for this conversation.

"Shut up, Ron!'' Hermione, Harry and Ginny said simultaneously.

"Bloody hell, keep it calm, would ya? I could've said Hagrid," the red-headed witch made a gagging sound.

"Ron, mate, seriously, this is as disgusting as disturbing.'' Harry did actually look as if he was going to be sick.

"I think we should discuss how Sirius even got paired with somebody who has an obliterated record. I mean, how did they know they're compatible?'' Nymphadora decided to put a stop on what was forming to be a long meaningless discussion on Ron's strange tastes and habits.

"Apparently criminals are made for each other,'' Ron snickered as Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The red-headed wizard raised his hand in surrender.

"My aunt is not a criminal.'' Awkward silence followed Hermione's words. "At least not anymore.''

"To me it looks like a deliberate pairing.'' Harry decided to ignore Hermione's statement.

"Harry, to you everything looks and sounds suspicious.'' Ginny had heard enough of 'Gin, don't eat this, it could be poisoned!' or 'Gin, please, don't do late-night grocery shopping, you could be attacked!''. The life with an Auror was never boring especially if said Auror was the boy who lived. Although, she did agree that there was a fishy smell around the whole pairing.

"Well, maybe if Hermione decided to enlighten us on her aunt, I wouldn't be,'' Harry told them.

"Why don't you enlighten me, Ministry bloke, how am I suppose to live with the Zabini git then?" Ron stressed out his problem from the past few days.

"I shall tell you, businessman Weasley, that I'm still figuring out about the surrogate mother situation.'' Harry said matter-of-factly. There was a clause in the Heredes Law, where if a woman is against being paired with a witch or a wizard, she could fulfil her duty with becoming a surrogate mother to at least two children. But if it was a man, he would have to be a sperm donor to at least ten couples. Harry could still remember the twenty minute tirade Hermione pulled on them for the lack of equality, as if he and Ron could change that.

Both Hermione and Harry were quite surprised when they learned that you could be paired with a person of the same sex, as gay marriage was a taboo topic in the Muggle society unlike in the Wizarding world. Hermione almost made peace with the Law just because of that until she got her own letter, of course. Ron did not came as a surprise by being bisexual for any of his friends or family, not with his last 'secret' relationship he had with a blond wizard, Alfred Derby.

"I'm done for tonight, mates,'' the red-headed man groaned. "Too much tragedy for poor Ron here, time for bed.'' Everybody just continued looking at him while he stood up and went for the door. "Up you go, people, some of us have work tomorrow.''

This time it was Harry's turn to groan which turned into an yawn as Ginny followed suit. Remus and Nymphadora also stood up and bid them their goodbyes, following the two Weasleys and Harry out of the door. Hermione was almost out of it too, but someone suddenly grabbed her elbow, turning her towards them. She came face to face with Sirius' dark grey eyes.

"Talk to her, Hermione,'' the wizard asked of her quietly. She knew where he came from, if she was paired with someone whose record was obliterated, she'd have done everything in her power to find that person. The hard thing was that she actually knew who was on the other end of Black's pairing and that made it so much more difficult.

Because his life could also end up on the front line.

"I'll try my best, Sirius,'' the young witch nodded and left the room, living him yet again alone.

A loud thunder scared the sleep away from Hermione's drooping eyes. The rain hadn't stop pounding onto the windows for hours and she had no intention in going out until it did. The young witch was sitting on the table, drinking her morning cup of her favourite cinnamon tea while reading the Daily Prophet. A robbery, two caught death-eaters, a missing girl, five new ways to start your morning without your usual cup of coffee by Mariam Biggors (there was no way that Hermione would start her day with loud classical music), a new promising singer on the horizon, voting for whether there should be extra classes at Hogwarts for foreign language of choice, some new law reforms, international affairs. In all, nothing much that could grab her attention. Nothing about the Department of Mysteries. Straux was apparently covering it perfectly.

"Ah, you bloody bird! Hermione come here!'' The witch immediately put the newspaper and her cup on the table and sprinted to the drawing room, where Sirius was have a not-so-pretty fight with a dark grey owl. And he was definitely on the losing side. "It doesn't want to give me the package,'' he growled while the owl continued hitting him on the head with its wings.

Hermione went to them, ready to shoo the owl away, but it stopped his ministrations and dropped the package in the curly haired witch's immediately outstretched arms. Afterwards it just flew away as if nothing had happened.

"Why did it came to me, when it could have just went to you in the kitchen?'' Sirius said while trying to untangle his hair, which the owl had turned almost into a nest.

"Maybe it liked you,'' Hermione laughed at him.

"That owl better keep its likes to itself!'' He huffed and went to the door. "I'm heading out, Harry won't be coming home tonight.'' Sirius winked at her as they both smirked.

The witch went for the chair in the corner of the room, where Ron usually sat sketching some of the new products for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on the black wooden desk. She sat down and put the black package on the desk, looking at it. There was no note or name on it. Just an expensive black wrapping paper. Hermione casted a few charms on it for good measures, checked for dangerous object, but none showed in the air. She sighed and decided to go for it, carefully unwrapping it.

Inside were a black box with something in French on the top and a completely black envelope with a green silk ribbon and the silver Malfoy crest on it.

Hermione so did not wish to open it.

Would it be really offensive if she owled it back to him? Who was she kidding, he was offensive to her during her whole school years, why did she care now what he would think?

But there was another problem, the witch was too curious for her own good. What could he have sent her in that big luxurious box and what had he written in that letter? Imagine her surprise then when she opened the envelope and not a letter, but a black folded card revealed itself.

An invitation.

To a ball.

The Alchemists' annual ball.

Draco Malfoy was bloody mad, that was obvious. Completely, foolishly, unbelievably mental. Hermione was certain now that she did not wish to see the content of the box. No way was she opening it.

But why did he invite her? Was it because some of the wizards in the Purpura House already knew of her due to her visitation the other day or he just wanted to have a laugh on her expense? It would be a massacre going there as his future wife especially if half of the guests knew of her as already being his wife and the other half as a muggle-born witch, who got lucky with being paired to a pureblood wizard.

No, Hermione would not think so lowly of herself. She was the brightest witch of their age. She helped defeat Voldemort, participated in it, sacrificed so much for it. She became an Unspeakable (not that wizards outside of her close friends knew of it, for them she was just a Ministry worker), she had passed her tests and Time chose her. S.P.E.W., outstanding N.E.W.T. scores and so much more accomplishments, how dare she stood there and feel unworthy for going to a ball?

It was a challenge and Hermione did not run from challenges.

She put down the invitation and grabbed the box. It was quite heavy. The witch opened it slowly seeing that whatever was inside was wrapped in a glowing silver paper, she opened the paper and came in contact with the finest satin material she had ever had the pleasure of touching. It looked liquid in the low light of the drawing room. Absolutely mesmerising to witness.

Hermione got up immediately so she could pull out what was in the box.

It was a dress.

Clean bateau neckline. Low cowl back adorned with tiny emeralds at the shoulders. Simple. Sharp. Elegant. Stylish. One of the most beautiful pieces of clothing she had ever seen.

All in Slytherin green.

The nerve.

Two things bothered her if the colour was not counted. The fact he felt inclined to buy her a dress as if she was not able to or perhaps he thought her fashion sense to be non-existent in the luxury department (not that she could judge him for that). And the fact he was absolutely certain that she would come to even send the dress.

And to return to the green topic. Did he seriously thought that she would go out dressed in that colour amongst some of the elite in the Wizarding society? The problem was that even if she decided to charm it to change the colour (not that she had any intention of going to the ball at all) it would ruin the material, no matter how well was the spell performed.

Something caught her attention from the bottom of the box. It was another green ribbon showing through the silver paper. Hermione wandlessly floated the paper from the box onto the desk and carefully put the dress on top of it then returned her gaze upon the box. There was another package wrapped in a black velvet material, Hermione untied the ribbon and a pair of pointed heels revealed itself.

High quality genuine snake skin, of course.

What else to be expected from a proud Slytherin? She would lie if she said she expected for him to be a little more considerate. They were supposed to be a husband and a wife, some compromise would be needed from time to time. Ah, a Malfoy, there was nothing else to say about him and his lifestyle.

At least there was no jewellery in the box. A serpent-like necklace would have been too much for her. Hermione returned the shoes in their velvet pouch, laid the dress with the silver wrapping atop of them, put the invitation in with the ribbons and closed the bloody box.

Malfoy was going to get it.

For certain.

"You sent her a green dress? Really, Draco?'' Blaise Zabini apparently viewed the whole situation as a laughing matter. The dark-skinned wizard couldn't even believe that Draco had thought it would have been a good idea. Especially as he was looking at the platinum-haired male in a burgundy suit.

If somebody had told Blaise that he would some day see Draco clothed in red, he would have laughed in their face. A ridiculous situation, indeed.

"Zabini, why are you even here in the first place?'' Draco growled at the snickering man. This was no laughing matter.

"You owled me, remember?'' Blaise wriggled his eyebrows then he took a deep breath in preparation to imitate Draco's deep voice. "'Zabini, it's an emergency!' You could have at least attached a picture to that extremely long letter of yours. Could have spared me the initial shock I got after seeing your hideous bum in these tightly fitted tailored Gryffindor pants.''

"Well then, why don't you spare me your unwanted comments and come with a solution of fixing the nasty colour of that bloody suit?'' Draco was still not sure how did he even decide to put it on. Maybe curiosity? Maybe he liked the material? Maybe he felt a little bit of guilty? Just a tiny little bit?

He knew it was not a great idea to send her that dress. But he had no other choice. Not exactly true, but there were some traditions which needed to be followed. In certain families it was a must for the male heir of the family name to clothe his future fiancée or wife in the colours of the family crest. But due to the quite big influence of the Hogwarts' houses, these days it was usually in their colours.

He owed it to his family name. At least that.

And the dress was actually nice. It would fit Granger's sharp personality like a glove. Yes, just the personality, nothing else, of course. Unlike the suit she gave him. It was made from quality fabrics, but the colour was giving him a headache.

"Red suit, mate. Where the fuck did she dig that out?'' Blaise asked what he had been just thinking. Draco looked at himself in the mirror. It fitted quite nicely, which was unexpected and he definitely wondered how she managed to get his exact size. It wasn't that ugly red per se (which could be seen on most suits in the Wizarding shops), it just didn't suit him. But a nice black coat over it would do just fine. The black shirt was comfortable and fitted him perfectly and the black leather shoes were classics, he could definitely see himself buying them. The golden bowtie was a different matter, Draco was not going to even comment on it. Definitely ripping it off.

Even the bloody socks had three tiny golden stripes on them which the tailored pants swiftly covered, no sitting for him at the ball then. Granger had definitely put some thoughts into the whole process of picking every piece of the suit.

"It says HUGO on the labels. Which I have no idea what it means.'' The blond-haired man look quizzically at the dark-haired wizard.

"Me neither, mate. Probably some muggle brand. But seems German to me and the style, too.'' Blaise said matter-of-factly while popping grape through his pursed lips.

Draco wasn't even sure what to think of Granger. Except for couple of not-so-pleasant encounters they had in school, he actually really did not know a thing about her. A muggle witch with a know-it-all sharp mouth, definitely intelligent if managing to keep the two idiots Potter and Weasley alive counts and her scores at the N.E.W.T. were brilliant. He knew through some 'connections' in the Ministry that Granger had become an Unspeakable, which was a bit unexpected, but who was he to tell.

To be honest, Draco was surprised when an owl delivered a package from her. Usually it was a tradition in some of the pureblood families to clothe their betrothed for their first public appearance. His first thought was that she was simply returning the 'favour', but that was Hermione Granger. If she was good at something that was knowing and researching everything. So she definitely knew she was also staking her claim on him in public.

It was definitely going to be an interesting ball that year.

"Draco, mate, please hide that ominous smile in the future. Somebody would think you're planning a murder. And you wouldn't want to be associated with that now, would you?'' Blaise winked at him as Draco rolled his eyes.

"So how is the family life with Weasley? Any redheads on the way?''

"Fuck you, mate. That was rude.'' The dark-skinned man threw grape at him, barely missing his left eye.

Some hexes followed afterwards until Zabini suddenly stopped and sat on Draco's bed.

"I still haven't talked to him. Not that he has initiated anything, but I am not sure how this could work.''

"Bullocks, you can make anything work, Zabini. What is this loser mood coming from you? You're one of the smartest and most handsome men I have ever seen.''

"Are these compliments that I'm smelling, huh?'' Draco hissed a quick hex and Zabini howled. "It's just... I'm everything he hates.''

"And when did you start worrying what other people thought of you?''

"At the same time you started giving relationship advices, Mister I-harass-a-girl-when-I-like-her.'' Zabini picked at his nails innocently.

"That was a low blow, Zabini.'' Draco flipped some of his locks away from his face. His hair was a real pain in the ass nowadays. A haircut was needed. "Somebody must make the first step, better sooner than later.''

"I know, man, I know.''