The Marriage Law -- Dramione

- Stop Joking about that stuff, you know it's true -

Christmas is in three days.

Any normal kid would be bouncing around screaming like Blaise when he's drunk. Any normal kid would be absolutely delighted.

But not me.

Why? Because I'm not a normal kid.

I'm am most certainly not excited for Christmas. Why, do you ask? Because my mother has been sending me letters. Requesting me and my 'soul mate' come over for Christmas and stay all two weeks of vacation there.

There are so many problems with that idea that I had to make a list.

- My mother and Father would never accept us

- It's more likely that it would snow in hell than Granger being willing to even go to the manor

- Potter and Weasel will most likely want her to go to that shoe they call a house

and lastly,

- I haven't a Christmas present for mother yet

And all the reasons on this list are equally important in this equation.

Hermione's head is rested in the crook of her arm, laying on the table, while the other hand is flipping through a book. She sighed and looked up at me. But she didn't know that I had already been staring. I groaned inwardly, Perfect moment. Just ask her! You bloody idiot!

And I don't call myself an idiot often.

I find it rude to lie about myself.

"Hey Granger?" 

She nodded, "Hmm?" 

I took a deep breathe. Just play it off cool. "What are you doing for the Holidays?" 

She shrugged, yawning. "My parents were planning on going to Paris. They wanted me to come with but..." she trailed off and shrugged again.

"So what are you doing instead?" I asked.

"Staying here. Probably studying for NEWTs."

 My eyes bulged, "What about Weasel?" 

She didn't even correct me, "What about him?" 

I shrugged, "I figured you and saint Potter would go there." 

She shrugged, "We're not exactly on the best terms to be spending two weeks with each other. And besides, It would be extremely awkward."

I nodded, "I bet Weaselette's mad." 

Hermione looked at me, "Why do you care?"

 I sighed, "Well- there's just... something.... I needed to-" 

she rolled her eyes at me, "Spit it out would you?" 

I sighed, "My mother wants you to go to the manor."

She looked unimpressed, "Does she know who you're precious soulmate is, exactly?" 

I shook my head, "No. And hopefully she doesn't care, because we don't care about her approval." 

She laughed and shut her book, "We? Since when has it been we?" 

I shrugged, following her to the bookshelf. "Since always. What? Are you saying you care about her approval?" I raised my eyebrows at her. 

She rolled her eyes, "Why would I care about her approval?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, you are my 'precious soulmate'." 

She stuck her tongue out at me, "So you're saying you don't care about her approval?" She asked, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. "I don't know. I do, for some things. But, this is an exception." 

Hermione raised her eyebrows at me, "Ooh, I'm an exception!" 

She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a not-so-Hermione way, "Does this mean I'm he prettiest witch of my age too? Is that the reason your mother will just have to accept us?" 

I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smirk off my face, "Stop Joking about that stuff, you know it's true."

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever, Ferret." 

I raised my eyebrows at her, unimpressed. "Really?" 

She shrugged, "But I'm just a muggleborn. Harry Potter's best friend. The Gryffindor princess. Maybe I should exaggerate that word some more... Gryffindor." She rolled her eyes and eyed the ground, "I'm just a mudblood."

I grabbed her hand and twirled her around, she grabbed my shoulders to gain balance. I held her waist, pulling her closer to me so that our foreheads practically touched. "You are not a mudblood. Don't call yourself that." 

She chuckled, " Isn't this conversation ironic."

I sighed, "Hermione, you have to understand... my father used that word all he time. I thought that's what muggleborns were called! And by the time I realized what an insult that was and that it made you cry! It was too late." 

She sighed.

"So I suppose your mother is just going to be absolutely delighted her only son will be forced into marriage with a muggleborn, also known as, ruining her precious blood status?" 

I groaned, when she put it that way...

"She might need some convincing," I admitted. 

"And your father?" 

I sighed, "That one might be difficult." 

She rolled her eyes.

I put my forehead on hers, "Will you please come? That can be my Christmas present?" 

She laughed and rolled her eyes, sighing, "Bloody ferret, always getting your way..."

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