Draco Malfoy looked out of the compartment's window and smiled contently. He was happy; he had everything he always dreamed of having. He returned the money and power to the Malfoy name, he glanced at the papers he had been working, and was surprised that he hadn't felt the two and a half hour train ride at all, he had very much enjoyed his trip. He could have taken his private plane from Paris to London, but he preferred the train. Unlike most people, train rides usually relaxed and refreshed him.

He heard someone knocking on the compartment door quietly.

"Come in" Draco said

A man in uniform appeared at his door

"Sir, we are fifteen minutes away from King's Cross. Do you want something? Another drink, perhaps?"

Draco shook his head as to respond negatively. He took five galleons out of his pocket and gave them to the slightly plump man, saying "Nothing thank you, but make sure my bags are sent to my car as soon as we arrive at the station"

The conductor took the five galleons with sparks in his eyes, and the spoke "Of course, of course sir, I hope you enjoyed your trip with us sir"

Draco just sneered at the man's reaction to money, and then said with an air of arrogance about him "To an extent, yes"

The conductor smiled politely then left the compartment. As for Draco, he started collecting his papers and putting them in his bag. He had been studying to buy a French potions company called "Madam Monika." Draco felt through his evaluation that he should make the purchase. It was according to his calculations a very winning deal, for him of course. He finally decided that "Madam Monika" will become a part of the huge Malfoy cooperation. He finished gathering his papers and lit a cigarette; comparing the warm whether that was in Paris to England's cold weather.

He had originally planned to go to Selby first to spend the night at his mother's, as was his custom after he came back from his travels, but his mother was spending a week at a friend's house so he decided to postpone the visit.

His thoughts drifted to London and his amazingly beautiful house, and to his wife… Hermione.

His eyes flashed as he remembered his wife. She must have received his flowers and the note that accompanied them informing that he would be arriving today. She undoubtedly was waiting for him to welcome him back to his home. He remembered those beautiful nights he spent with his wife after every one of his travels; how she enjoyed listening to him all evening talk about his trip and its details. He promised himself with a similar night tonight where she would listen to the latest trip's news. Hermione always listened. He once again felt the same confusion and bewilderment he felt three years ago when she accepted his marriage offer.

After that he started despising and deriding her. When the war was over, he had nothing, no money, and no power. Nothing, he had to work hard to be where he was today, he paid blood and sweat to get a job he wanted, and the history of his name didn't exactly make life easy for him.

He spent all his days and nights studying and working, he was ready to go to the farthest extent to reach his goal: success.

He had an attractive personality, charming with his pretty words…and in the same time he was ready to use those characteristics to achieve his goal, and get what he wanted. He didn't hesitate to complement someone he didn't like, or suck up to someone he thought was loathsome. His natural intellect helped him get through a lot of big problems.

Draco had never been interested in working at the Ministry nor had he ever wanted part of his father's Death Eater business. He liked potions and chemicals, he had always been fascinated by them, and his O's in both his potions O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's were his first step in his career. After the war, he was lucky he found a job in a small potion's laboratory. Many friends objected to this saying that he was wasting his time and talents in such a small place, but Draco was ambitious and farsighted with continuous work that made him an indispensable part of the company. With his politeness and extreme charm with the boss's wife, Draco was able to reach managing the company and finally owning it.

He let his memory drift to his past. He felt slightly ashamed about how he came to take over the company, but he did not hesitated to crush another small company to get a seat in its administration, forming a bigger cooperation. He also remembered that after that key step in his career, everything gradually became easier. The steps were more successful and effortless.

After his raging success, and becoming a gallionaire, he reached the next step in his plan to a perfect life: a wife. Three years before now , he started looking for his wife, being a gallionaire, employees, models and even some of his friend's wife's threw themselves at him. Quantity was very available, but what was lacking was quality. The type he was looking for was very rare. Draco Malfoy doesn't get anything except the best. Like in every thing else, his wife to be was no exception. He kept looking….and then he met Hermione Granger.

He knew her from school as the bushy haired mudblood that hung around Potter and his dream team. After the war, she had become high society. It turned out her parents were very rich. She never had to lift a finger except to study and play hero with Potter her whole life, so naturally even though she was highly qualified, she stayed at home. Her mother had died in the war, so her father became an alcoholic and started gambling his money away until he had a drunken car accident and died. This left Hermione barely twenty three and broke. She could have of course found a job to live by, but right before Hermione's father's death and the scandal it raised in both the magical and muggle community (which merged after the war,) she was engaged to marry Ronald Weasly. She didn't have a care in the world, with the skiing weeks in Aspen, and the weeks on the Bahamas' sandy beaches, and the shopping sprees in Paris, she had no intention to get a job, neither willingly nor unwillingly. She never thought of it.

After her father died with his scandal, Ronald started to skip out on her. She started feeling financial restriction for the first time in her life. She had nothing but a small sum in a bank that her grandmother left her. This small sum gave her a very limited income, something she never experienced before. Hermione had graduated in Hogwarts with 12 O's in her N.E.W.T's (a record of some sort) in addition to speaking seven foreign languages fluently, but she never did anything in her life but play hero with Harry Potter, and organize dinner parties.

Draco had met her as a coincidence in Shaftsbury Theatre. He and a few friends were having drinks in the intermission when she came in with a young couple. The husband, Terry Boot, was one of his close friends, so they naturally spent the night in each other's company. He had then been stunned at how drastically Hermione had changed since school. Gone was the bushy hair and the know-it-all attitude, she was beautiful with silky waves of cinnamon tresses and flawless white skin, a beautiful figure and undeniable grace. Her hazel eyes looked at him with a challenge, which was a surprise for him, since most women swooned at his looks and full pockets. He liked her aloofness when his date, an attractive French model, tried to grab him, silently telling her that he was hers and off limits. He liked her calmness, as she regarded the girl with arrogance and a bemused expression, he kept thinking of the gorgeous girl and how she would make a perfect Malfoy wife.

He called her the next day, and expressed his desire to meet her, but she refused like she refused a dozen other invitations that followed. However, one day she finally agreed, and on the phone he sensed something was wrong. When he met her, she told him that the house she was living in was going to be sold to pay off her father's debts and her small income doesn't allow her to buy or rent any decent apartment. Her rich family had abandoned her father in his time of need, running away from his scandals, so she refused to call them for help. Draco listened attentively as she spoke about her problems. He offered her advice and expressed his compassion…and stopped at that.

He started calling her everyday, occasionally going out to dinner for the fourteen days that followed their date. He started to notice a change in her behavior, and she started waiting for his calls and expecting them, counting on them. So experimentally, he stopped his calls for ten days, and when he called on the eleventh day, she was miserable and desperate. So like any business man, he hit while the victim was venerable and asked her to marry him…she said yes. He didn't love her; he wasn't even attracted to her. Her frigidness was a major turn off for him and she had become frigid after the incident that followed her mother's death. He liked warm characters and liveliness, but…she was perfect for the specifications that he required in a future wife.

The way he offered astonished her, he had calmly and coldly explained that he wanted her as a wife by name only; a part of his property to decorate the dinner table and a good example on his taste in women. His offer and the way he offered had one effect: the ice that had been slowly melting around her heart froze again, and although she accepted, she became once again the frigid and aloof girl he met at the theater. So he started to despise her for accepting to marry a man she had no emotions for, just for his money. If she had said no, things would have been different. If she had found a job and started organizing her own life, his opinion on her would have changed, but alas she did not, and the result: he despised her.

His mother was shocked when he told her of his engagement to Hermione Granger. After his father had died, Draco had started working and bought himself and his mother a house in Selby which she refused to move out of saying she was never truly happy except when she went their. Even though Draco had a rough childhood, he still loved his mother and respected her for surviving what she went through, and thought of her as the greatest women he ever met.

At the wedding, his mother met Hermione, and immediately expressed her opinion with brutal honesty saying that he could have chosen a better wife, he will never be happy with a girl as cold as Hermione, that she had met girls like that, and even the fires of hell couldn't melt the ice around her long frozen heart.

Still his deal worked successfully, as Draco had planed it to be. They had been living together for the past three years, just as he had planned. He was happy with his beautiful property, and she was happy with the rich care free life. His business forces him to travel so much to foreign countries that since their marriage, the time they spent together over all doesn't exceed three months. Nevertheless, Hermione was always ready to go to a dinner party or play hostess to an important client. She dealt with men and women of the high society and with great ease. Although their relationship didn't exceed politeness between two strangers, their actions in society were that of a couple in love, and who have respect for one another. Draco discovered that Hermione had impeccable taste, so he gave her free reign in the house decorations, and he wasn't disappointed, as she made his house a beautiful place, and was the brunt of envy and admiration of many of his colleagues. He was happy that his friends considered him a lucky guy, for having a woman as beautiful as Hermione, who was smart and at the same time an amazing wife with great taste in everything.

Draco was snapped out of his thoughts when the train stopped in King's Cross. He stood and put his coat on. He was a big man with a lean body and broad shoulders complete with a six-pack. His platinum blond hair fell over his smoky grey eyes that gave off a feeling that you were being scanned from the inside out. He was smart and he knew he was attractive. Women threw themselves at him, of course the fact that he was a gallionaire helped.

He carried his bag, and stepped off the train searching for Mr. Jones, his driver.


"Good evening Jones" said Draco getting into the car gracefully. Jones closed the door after him, and entered the driver's seat.

"Good evening Mr. Malfoy" replied Jones as he started the car. Jones was a muggle that Hermione had hired after they got married. His wife worked as a house keeper in their house and they had an apartment attached to his and Hermione's house. He had three boys, two of which were still in high school (Mathew and Derek) and one was in college (Timothy.)

"How is Timothy? Is he still studying chemistry and potions?" Draco asked

"Yes sir, he'd be really happy if he knew you were asking about him sir, he graduated his first year with flying colors he did, looks up to you sir" Jones said.

"Great, keep me up to date with his news, maybe I can find a place for him in my company" Draco said with no real interest.

"Thank you sir" he said

Draco thought about his latest conquest, Ms. Gabrielle Dubois. Oh no, Draco was not a saint, nor did he live the last three years like a monk. He had his flings, nothing important, and if they start to get too clingy they are immediately replaced. It was as simple as that. He thought maybe he should get rid of her, she had become rather- he never got to finish that line of thought, because he had reached his home.

He frowned when he saw that all the lights were out, and that the only chimney smoking was that of the kitchen.

He was out of the car and in front of the front door in a hand full of graceful strides. He opened the door, only to be greeted by darkness and no Hermione waiting for him. He didn't understand, had she not gotten his note? Did she not know he was coming today? Why was she not waiting for him? Where was she?

"MRS. JONES!" he bellowed, and the plump woman came running from the direction of the kitchen.

"Hello sir, didn't know you arrived yet, need anything?" she panted

"Did Hermione get the flowers and the note I sent yesterday?" he asked

"Yes sir, she put them in the dining room, quite a beautiful collection sir" the plump lady commented

"So she knew I was coming today?" he asked again, and the woman started squirming uncomfortably.

"Yes sir" she replied

"Where is she then?" he asked

At this the woman turned to very interesting shade of magenta.

"Out sir" the woman replied

"Out with who?" he asked, and immediately knew he asked the right question because the woman avoided all eye contact, and her face became beet red.

"With Mr. Weasly sir" she answered.

"Mr. Weasly? Ronald Weasly?" he asked

"Yes sir, she said to have dinner ready for you sir, dinner is ready sir, shall I serve?" the woman asked.

"No, I am not hungry, go to the kitchen Mrs. Jones, I'll call you if I need" he said, and the woman scurried away.

Draco was seething; she was out with Weasly, WEASLEY! The bloody bitch, she knew he was coming today and yet she went out, and with her ex-fiancée! He didn't know why, but suddenly he had a strange urge to go to her room. He went up the staircase in wide angry steps and he quickly reached her room. He opened the door and their it was, immaculate, not a dot of dust, not a string out of place.

He sneered and left the room, slamming the door behind him and went down to the living room.

With a flick of his wand and "Incendio," the fire place blazed with a roaring fire, and he sat on a comfy arm chair in front of the fire. The red light emanating from the red flames dancing on his face, he sat their thinking. Who did she think she was? She was his, his possession, his! He bought her, and when he bought something it became his forever, and his things were his all the time, not only when he decides to take them out of the box and play, but his all the time, forever, he didn't share!! He just didn't! How many times had she gone out with Weasly? He had half a mind to call Mrs. Jones and ask her, but he changed his mind. He'd ask his lovely wife when she got home.

He heard the key unlock the front door, he didn't go to her, and he knew she would come to him. He waited in front of the fire, he heard her footsteps approach, but still he didn't move.

"Hello Draco" he heard her voice

"Hello Hermione" he replied, ice dripping from every syllable in his voice.

"How was your trip?" she asked politely, she took off her hat and let the chestnut caramel tresses cascade down to her back.

"How was Weasly?" he asked, his fury evident in his voice, "and why might I ask DID YOU AGREE TO GO OUT WITH HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE" he roared losing his temper.

"Ron is my friend, he has been for the past twelve years, you can't expect me to simply sit around here and do nothing until you decide to grace me with your presence" she said, her own temper rising now.

"Yeah, he was such a great friend when you were being thrown out on the streets, broke and penniless, didn't seem to stick much then did he" Draco sneered

Her eyes filled with tears, becoming glossy "that was low even for you" she whispered hoarsely, then headed for the staircase.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?" he asked, reaching her in two wide strides, he held her forearms tightly, so tight that she knew it would leave a bruise, but she didn't whimper or cry, instead she looked straight at him.

"You are in no shape to talk rationally, we'll talk about this tomorrow, I am tired and want to sleep" she said calmly.

"You're not going anywhere until we settle this, you are mine!, I bought you with my money, get that through that frigid head of yours, you will not see Weasly again, and I mean it, don't test me Hermione, I will not be considered the fool, I will not have people talking about how my wife is sleeping around, am I understood?" he asked, his eyes blazing with so much fury, so much anger.

She wanted to scream that she was going to do what she wanted and meet who she wanted to meet. She wanted to tell him about all the times she had to endure his infidelity, the whispers that followed her every where, the cruel words that would be thrown to the air, in a group of friends, but everyone present would know they were directed at her, and no body else. She wanted to give him the seemingly endless list of names of his conquests ever since their marriage, she wanted to tell him all about the phone calls from so called considerate friends that would see him the hot blonde or a gorgeous brunette and feel it their duty to call her and tell her right away. She wanted to say all those things; instead she nodded and walked quietly up the stairs, numb with any emotion. He was right of course, she was his possession, just as much as the house she lived in and the furniture inside it, he bought her, and she agreed. Had she told him what she really wanted to tell him, she would have come out as a jealous wife, something she had no right to be? She was just a decoration on the dinner table, nothing more, nothing less.

She changed into her silky white see through night gown and slipped in to the bed, with a thought running through her head 'could he be jealous' she thought to herself. Then she remembered how he despised her 'he just didn't want to look like a fool' she repeated to herself.

'I am just decoration at the dinner table' she thought bitterly, giving in to sleep.


please please review, tell me if i should continue this story?

thank you Haani, for being a great beta.