Okay, I know! I'm really sorry about starting yet another fic but I couldn't help it. I'm having issues with my other fics and I got the idea for this one and I couldn't resist writing it. Please let me know what you think in a review.
Chapter 1: You are not my husband
Hermione rolled over in the warm bed she was sleeping in. When she felt another person's body touch her right side her eyes shot open. The person next to her was snoozing peacefully. She took one look at his pale, pointed face and blonde hair and did the only thing that seemed appropriate…She screamed.
As she let out her shrill cry she rolled over in the bed. Apparently she rolled over too much because when she did she tumbled out of the bed, taking the sheets, blanket, and pillow with her.
She looked down and noticed that she was wearing a silky green pajama top (that didn't belong to her) and a pair of cotton knickers (that thankfully did belong to her) and nothing else. She hastily covered the lower part of her body and looked up.
Her shriek had awoken her sleeping partner with a jerk. He'd raised himself up on his elbows but otherwise he remained laying lazily in the bed, peering intently at her through his sleepy, grey eyes.
Hermione glared at him angrily. She thrashed about in her entanglement of bed linens and stood up, forgetting her half-nakedness.
"Malfoy!" she shouted.
"'Morning," he replied calmly with a yawn.
"Don't you 'morning' me!" she yelled in an infuriated voice. "I don't know what you're doing here but I want you out! NOW!"
"Sorry to break it to you," Draco said, "but this is my room."
Hermione looked around and her face fell with embarrassment. It was true. Nothing in the room looked familiar to her.
"Ooh!" she grunted heatedly. "Listen, you little rat. I don't know what--"
"You ought not talk to your husband like that," Draco said, not phased by the insult.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Hermione questioned. "You are not my husband."
"That expensive wedding ring on your finger would prove otherwise," he contradicted.
Hermione looked down at her left hand and sure enough there was a gleaming gold band wrapped around her ring finger. She stared at it disbelieving for a moment.
"I told you no!" she screamed defiantly. She wrenched the ring from her finger. "This…this ring of evil means nothing to me!" she screamed lamely as she slammed it down with a clank on the dresser that was near her.
The ring trembled for a moment on the surface of the dresser with a clinking noise. It then zoomed into the air towards Hermione and forced itself back onto the finger she'd just removed it from. Hermione gaped at her hand.
"That's no ordinary Muggle wedding ring," Draco explained. "That's a wizard band. Everyone's rings are like that. It makes it more difficult to cheat, you see. Obviously people can still cheat. They just find it extremely hard to lie about not being married."
Hermione's mind was racing. "I can't believe this!" she said as she paced back and forth in front of the bed while Draco remained laying down. "Malfoy, I told you no! Why don't I remember getting married to you? Did you put the Imperius Curse on me?"
"Of course not, Granger," Draco said. "Do you honestly think that I'd put an Unforgivable Curse on you when I'd married you to stay out of prison in the first place?"
"Well, you see," Draco began as he sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed, "it was quite easy to get you to agree to marry me after you'd had a few drinks in you and I explained that it was for the good of wizard kind that we get married."
"I can't believe you!" Hermione screamed. "You little…there are no words…no words to describe you! Look, I don't care if they plan to throw you off a cliff. I'm not staying married to you."
"You have no choice," said Draco calmly.
"What do you mean I don't have a choice?" Hermione asked. "Of course I have a choice."
"No, you don't," he said defiantly. "Our marriage was sealed by magic when we took our vows."
"You mean like the Unbreak--"
"Oh no," he answered before she finished her question. "It's not quite that serious. You won't die. Witches and Wizards are allowed to get divorced just like everyone else. But you see both people must consent to the divorce. And I refuse to consent until we've been married a year."
"Why a year?"
"Because that's long enough to convince everyone that we're actually in…" he swallowed hard and looked like he'd just eaten something extremely disgusting, "love. Then, after the year is up we'll simply fake a few fights in public and start making it seem our marriage is on the rocks. Then we'll ease in the divorce." After seeing the expression on her face he added, "Look, I don't want to be married to you either. Believe me. But as I told you before, they'll throw me in prison if I can't prove I've changed my ways. We both know I have. But the government is not as easily convinced."
"But why me?"
"I had to show I'd fallen in love with a Mud—Muggle-born," he answered. "That's the easiest way to show I'm not my old, Muggle-hating self. No Death Eater would let it be publicly known that he was married to someone who wasn't pureblooded. And you are the only Muggle-born I know well enough to marry."
Hermione bit her lip, clearly tossing everything over in her mind. She paced back and forth while ringing her hands together. Finally, she sighed and said, "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."
Draco got out of the bed and stood up. He was wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms that matched the shirt Hermione was wearing. His bare chest and stomach were thin yet attractive and unsurprisingly very pale. It was then that Hermione remembered she wasn't wearing any pants.
"Malfoy!" she shrieked picking up the pillow from the floor and holding it over her thighs to cover herself. "Where are my pants? Give them to me!"
Draco looked down at his own legs shrugged and placed his thumbs inside the waistband of the pajama pants, preparing to pull them down.
Hermione gaped at him for a second and then said, "Malfoy! Don't you dare!"
Draco smirked and picked up his wand from bedside table. "And that's another thing. We can't keep calling each other by our surnames. After all, you no longer are a Granger, you're a Malfoy. We can't very well call each other the same thing. So, we'll need to be on a first name basis."
Hermione glared at him. "I am not a Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth. He flicked his wand at the dresser on which Hermione had slammed her wedding ring down and the top drawer opened. Some of Draco's clothes flew across the room toward him. He caught them and then turned to Hermione. She was still hiding behind the pillow.
"On the contrary, Grang—Hermione, you are a Malfoy," he said, "for a year. Don't get too attached to the title. I know it's beyond anything you could have dreamed but it's not permanent." She sneered at him. He walked toward the door and opened it.
"Wait!" she yelped. "We didn't…you know…since we got married we didn't have…"
"Sex?" he said with a smirk. "No, Grang—damn it, Hermione. We didn't have sex. I'm sorry to disappoint you."
She sighed with relief.
"There are some of your clothes in that closet over there," he nodded toward the door on the far side of the opposite wall. "We'll get ready and go eat breakfast with my mother. Then, we'll get ready for our honeymoon."
After he'd shut the door she stood there staring at it with an amazed expression on her face. Honeymoon? she thought. Honeymoon? There was no way she was going on a fake honeymoon, with her fake husband, with her fake (yet very real) wedding ring on her finger.