Cursed

A/N: Hello! I wrote this a while ago and just got around to post it now. I don't know when I'll be able to update regularly, though, I get at lease two houra of English homework a night plus all my other on top of that. :(

So, I know that Dumbledore should have died and all that, but for the sake of this story, let's pretend that he didn't. Snape never killed him and the curse in his hand that would have killed him if Snape didn't kill him got a miraculous cure, okay? Thanks for your understanding. Enjoy!

Chapter One:

"Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!" Hermione Granger said as she threw down the green powder and stepped into the flames of the same colour. She felt herself flying through fireplaces until she landed in her destination: the Headmaster's Office of Hogwarts.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, looking up from the piece of parchment he was examining through his half moon glasses. "Please, have a seat. I have something important to discuss with you, but we must wait for another person to show up. Would you like a sherbet lemon?"

Hermione accepted the sweet and sat on the comfortable armchair, wondering what this could possibly be about. She had received the letter the day before while she was at The Burrow. It was from Professor Dumbledore requesting her presence in his office to discuss an urgent matter. She wondered what could be so urgent. The war was over, with an unbelievable amount of casualties, of course, but over nonetheless.

Suddenly the fireplace roared with green flames and out stepped a tall boy, Hermione's age, with platinum blonde hair.

"Ah, Draco, you've arrived. Excellent." Professor Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Please have a seat. Would you care for a Sherbet Lemon?" He extended the bowl to Draco Malfoy, who shook his head. Dumbledore shrugged and popped another one into his mouth.

"I expect you wonder why I've called you both here." He said. Hermione nodded while Draco just shrugged. "Well, I'm afraid it's not all good news. You see, we have just received some grave news. Apparently before Lord Voldemort's fall," Draco shuddered at the name. "...he cursed you, Draco, under the reasoning that since you failed to kill me," Draco winced. "...you must be cursed. His curse was something that, in his eyes, was the worst possible thing that could happen to you and your family. If you did not marry a muggle-born witch by the age of eighteen, you would die a very painful death."

Draco was silent. Then, "Why are you only telling me this now? I turn eighteen in a week."

"We only were told yesterday. You see, your father figured out what day it was and made such a ruckus in Azkaban that a ministry official had to come and see what the matter was. He requested my presence, a request which I granted. He told me of this curse and asked me to help him."

"So what does this have to do with me, professor?" Hermione asked softly, fearing the answer she suspected.

"Well, Miss Granger, I know I ask much of you, but I feel that you would be the best choice. I brought you here today to ask you if you would marry Mister Malfoy."

Hermione looked from the headmaster to the boy she had hated since first year. Dumbledore was the same as always, he had an uncharacteristically grim look on his face and eyed Hermione from over his glasses and Hermione had the same feeling that Harry had told her about: as though she was being x-rayed. Malfoy looked pitiful. He was paler than usual, almost as bad as he was in their sixth year. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked as though he hadn't slept in the three weeks since the final battle. In summary, he looked dreadful.

Hermione sighed. What a tough decision. She knew she didn't want to marry the ferret, but she didn't want him to die either. She knew that she had to decide now, especially if Malfoy's birthday was in a week. She would be saving his life if she married him, but she would also be stuck with him for the rest of her life. But, if it only meant marriage, she could still easily live in a different house from him and still have a life. But knowing Voldemort, the curse was probably much worse.

"What exactly would this marriage entail?" She asked quietly.

"Well, you and young Mister Malfoy would be required to me married by an official, something which I, thankfully am. I can perform the ceremony if you wish. The curse will cause you both searing pain if you try to sleep in separate beds and will do the same if you are unfaithful. The marriage will be final, if you should choose to divorce, than Draco will die. It is unfortunate that this should occur, and I do apologize for having to drag you into this, Miss Granger. Now, if you two have no further questions, I will leave and allow you two to discuss the matter yourselves."

Dumbledore got up and left the room, his long, violet robes sweeping behind him. Hermione and Draco sat in silence for a moment before Hermione finally broke the silence with,

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think that I am going to die very shortly." Malfoy answered simply. "I do not want to, but I know that there is no chance in hell that you will marry me."

"And, hypothetically, if I agreed to marry you, would you do it? Or would you die?"

"I suppose I would do it. I do not particularly want to die."

Hermione looked at Malfoy's pale face. It was hard and she could not detect any emotion in it. He had certainly changed since she first met him all those years ago.

She sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, Malfoy, but I'll marry you. I don't want to be responsible for anybody's death."

"Are you sure, Granger? I mean, as much as I don't want to die and everything, I would be taking a lot."

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm sure. I don't know why I'm so sure, but I am.

"Well, thanks Granger."

"You're welcome, Malfoy." They sat there in an awkward silence for a few minutes and Dumbledore came back into the room.

"Have you two decided then?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll do it. I'll marry him."

"Excellent. Thank you, Miss Granger. I know that this will be exceedingly difficult for both of you as you have had an..erm...argumentative past. Now, as young Mister Malfoy will be turning eighteen in a week, we had better hurry with the plans. It does not have to be large, I can perform the binding ceremony in here with two witnesses.

"That will be fine." Hermione said shortly. "All I ask for is for my parents to be here."

"That can be arranged," Dumbledore said. "How about you, Draco? Who would you like to be here?"

"Just my mother." Draco said.

"Does Wednesday suit you both?" Dumbledore asked. They nodded tightly. "Well then it's settled. I will marry you two on Wednesday morning at eleven o'clock here in my office."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said as she stood up and walked over to the fireplace. "I will see you on Wednesday." She nodded at Malfoy. "Malfoy."

Hermione stepped into the flames and shouted, "The Burrow!" When she landed she raced up to her bedroom and cried.

Review? Tell me if I should keep going or quit.