A different take on the Marriage trope. We have seen so many, but this one is an interesting concept.

Summary: Hermione wants nothing more than to be alone. Her breakup was terrible, her heart couldn't bear another unkindness and now the Ministry is attempting to implement a law. Will love and marriage be a possibility in a relationship she chosen to be doomed to fail; or will it swallow everyone whole?

"The only pleasure I take in this is that Weasel must be bloody pissed," Draco's voice interrupted the witch's thoughts.

Hermione Granger was glaring across the table at Malfoy with a loathing like no other. What sat between them was the official documentation that tied them both together. They would be forced into cohabitating and eventually marriage if the bill was signed into proclamation after the proceedings. However, Hermione was already on the objection, many facts and figures like she bloody well always did.

"I will have you know, we ended things long before this horrendous bill was ever signatured by the Wizengamot," her voice was splitting in the restaurant ambiance.

Draco snorted as he rose a hand in the air. "Oh, a marriage law, I quiver with anticipation to see you get out of this one, Granger."

"You don't have to be a bloody cad about it," Hermione quipped with an acrimonious tone.

"And I suppose the names were at a draw? Random? Prophesied, something?" Draco had already rolled his eyes and lounged in his chair.

"No, I chose you," Hermione said with a nod.

Draco scowled and placed his hands on the table. "Chose me? Why?"

"Because you're going to help me prove my point on why this would never work. Forcing people to breed like animals for children and tying people to matrimony and life-altering circumstances. I chose you because this would fail above all else. We loathe each other," Hermione voiced with a sneer; very un-Gryffindor if Draco said so himself.

"Are others allotted to choose their noose? I sure as bloody hell wouldn't have chosen you," Draco snapped as he reached for his much-needed drink.

"Yes," Hermione said quietly.

"Thank you, Granger, for the vote of confidence. I appreciate that you want this bill to fail so dramatically that you, in essence, are ruining a portion of my life," Draco responded bitterly before swigging his drink.

Hermione raised her glass with a smirk. "To love, Malfoy."

"Fuck you, Granger. You don't know shit about love," He growled before waving for the waitress. "Another, make it a double."

"I'm not asking you to fuck me, Malfoy. Merlin knows you're the last wizard I would want that from. I'm only asking for you to help me prove that this is wrong. I shouldn't have to choose to marry anyone if I don't want to," she murmured as her confident posture was lost.

"So, I'm not moving," he stated as the fresh drink drifted to their table. "You will have to make arrangements when this proclamation goes into full effect. I'm not changing my lifestyle either. I will not be going to family dinners, Potter outings and kissing Weasleys, understood?"

"Okay."

"I will tell you when I want to talk if I do. You will not barrel in and complain to me about your day at the ministry. You will not disrupt my mother, and you will be kind to my son."

Hermione blinked, and her eyes grew. "Your son?"

Draco snorted again and mumbled under his breath. "Un-fucking-believable," he cleared his throat. "Yes, I have a son. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. He's two."

Hermione's professional demeanor dropped, and she leaned forward. "Malfoy, when I saw your name I only thought you were single. I hadn't," she paused and pinched her lips together when his frown grew.

"Yes, I'm a bloody widower, understood?"

"Understood," she whispered.

"Granger, she was the love of my life. This isn't going to be a pretty affair. I won't be buying you flowers or getting you expensive gifts. I won't write poetry and I sure as bloody hell won't be planning a family with you. You chose this mess, and whether you get out of it or not, that is where I stand. Are we clear?"

The pregnant silence grew as she broke the eye contact and ran her finger over the edge of her cup. He was harsh and unforgiving, Draco knew that. In his defense, she just walked into his life and demanded something of him that he would have had any other way.

"It might be better this way. You want nothing to do with me, and I most certainly want nothing to do with you," Hermione sighed before meeting his gaze again.

"Good, we are on even ground. At least you saved me from having to argue with witches hunting for my fortune," He grumbled with a wave before drinking down his whiskey. "Who is Weasel picking?"

Hermione glanced down at the untouched pastry in front of her. "His girlfriend," she whispered.

The lone branch of the trio. Any other moment and Draco might have felt a sliver of sympathy for the witch.

"Well, good things come in pairs don't they," He sniggered.

Hermione bristled and stood up. "Well, you will receive a letter when I will be moving my things over. Crookshanks will be coming with me."

"That ratty animal is still alive?" Draco retorted.

"Yes and that isn't a request, Malfoy. I may have chosen this, but I'm saving face for you as well. You don't want to remarry now do you?" She huffed as she straightened her suit jacket.

"Well thank you ever so much, Granger. Let me roll out the welcoming mat just for your bloody kindness," his tone read sardonic as he erected himself from the chair, tossing galleons on the table.

"You're a fuck, Malfoy," Hermione groaned and walked away.

"My pleasure, Granger!" He called out after her, hearing the audible slam of the front door as she marched out of the Leaky Cauldron.

He watched her curvy form bounce out of view and he exhaled slowly, sinking to the chair again. What the hell was he going to tell his family?

Hermione had a cat carrier in hand as she walked up the stone pathway. Her life was stored in her beaded bag and Crookshanks was meowing loudly in objection in the carrier. "I promise, we won't be here long. I already told Kingsley I have the objection written in draft, love," she reassured the animal.

Long ago were the days of enjoying her flat and Ginny's company. Before the breakup. Before the nephews. Before the chaos.

Now, she was bucking up to head into the snake's burrow. Hermione knew she didn't have to do this; she was offered first pick. However, no one on the list spoke to her immediate disregard and loathing than Malfoy did. Kingsley said nothing at her choice, only pinching his expression; he knew she would fight this tooth and nail.

The lone martyr. She would prove a bunch of old men wrong. How dare them tell anyone who they had to marry to increase the chances of having magical children. Hermione would be daft for not trying to oppose this bill before it is proceeded into law.

It had been two weeks since she spoke with Draco. Hermione felt horrible for bringing him into her plans, now knowing he had lost someone dear to him. It gave her even more spark of displeasure that he was on that list in the first place. Were they so callous as to putting a widower on there in hopes that he would have more children?

Her knuckles struck the door. Hermione waited and nothing. At least until the door swung open and Lucius Malfoy was standing there with a cool gaze. "Miss Granger," he hissed.

"Good morning, Lucius, how are you today?" she asked politely.

"Seeing as we are going through an invasion," he responded as he struck his cane into the tile.

Hermione rocked her head. "Well, are you going to invite me inside?"

"Do I have a choice?" He spat.

"No." She didn't wait this time; she marched passed him inside the manor. "Where is my room?"

"Second floor, first door to the left," he said with a dismissing tone before shutting the door and walking off.

That pleased her to no end. The last thing she wanted was a tag along while she got accustomed to her temporary home. Hermione marched up the stairs and went into her room, shutting the door. Releasing Crookshanks from his confinement, she got to work taking out his items and setting them up in the giant room. If this was their smaller rooms, she could see how much of a snob the Malfoys really were.

The room itself was gorgeous. The linens on the bed were grey, the walls were minimal in decor, and the bathroom was connected to the bedroom. It was perfect to hide away from the murky meddlings below.

Hermione transfigured a desk for herself in the corner and started to unpack her work. Setting up bookshelves, checking off items she would need off her list, and keeping her wardrobe full of her work attire, she was set for the few weeks she planned to stay.

"Well, not too bad, right, Crooks?" Hermione sighed as she watched the cat sniff the furniture with mild distaste.

What was she thinking? Hermione asked herself that several times over the last week. Was it a lapse in judgment? Did she really believe this is what it would take to convince them that the law was ineffective? Hermione could only hope as she bobbed her head.

Making her way from the room, she head a laugh. Hermione scowled and followed the sound with curiosity until she crossed paths with a cracked door. Inside was something she wasn't expecting; a man crumbled to the ground, playing with crayons and a child joining in the fun. It was odd to see such an intimate moment in such a hardened place.

"Blue!" the child exclaimed and held up a red crayon.

"Red," Draco said with a nod.

"Red," Scorpius affirmed and drew on the parchment.

Draco ruffled the child's hair before leaning over and kissing his forehead. "Your mother's favorite was red too, to my disgust."

Hermione moved to pull away, but Draco had seen her, causing the witch to nearly topple in full retreat. Her heels clicked on the carpet as she walked off. However, her arm was caught causing her to spin slightly at the whiplash. "Granger," Draco hissed as her eyes met his. "Next time, just tell me you're there."

His hand released her arm and she bobbed her head. "Yes, of course, Malfoy. My apologies," she mumbled, rubbing her neck. "I was just going to pop over to see Harry and Ginny. I didn't want to alarm you and your son by my knock."

"Even still," he paused and hemmed. "Try to be less nosey? I know that's a hard stretch for you, but I would appreciate the gesture."

"I will be mindful of your privacy," she responded.

"This is only temporary," he said.

"I know, I promise I won't disrupt," she stopped when he shook his head.

"No, I meant you in the guest quarters. It's too close to my son's playroom. I'll have your living suite done tonight. Last night Scorpius was battling a bad fever and I didn't have the time to finish. My mother promised to help me," Draco announced.

All Hermione could do was motion agreement. "Whatever you think would be wise."

"I think it would be best if you lived in your own area. I'm sure you understand why," he mumbled as a bit of pink rose to his cheeks.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry," she murmured as her shoulders curled toward her neck.

He waved her off. "I will see you when you return," he stated and walked back toward the room.

She watched him disappear inside and heard him chuckle. Hermione felt like a fucking blister on the heel. Sore, unwanted and a nuisance… good, it was better this way. The witch marched off toward the exit and left, heading for hopefully a decent afternoon and her friends to cheer her up. She forced this on herself, now she had to fight her way out of the situation.