Married To Malfoy?!?!

Chapter 3

Draco smiled tightly at his wife. Good lord, she was supposed to make him seem married, not GAY!

"I don't think we should tell your friends about that kind of poetry, baby," he lowered his voice suggestively, "I'm not sure they're old enough."

Sneaking a look at the boy who just wouldn't die and his red pet weasel, Draco could see they were at least old enough to understand his implications and he smirked to himself.

"Ohhh, SICK!" Ron spat, "Sod off, Malfoy, I don't know what kind of spell you put her under, but there's no way in hell Hermione would marry you!"

"I'm not under a spell, Ron. Dumbledore married us himself, you can ask him," Hermione crossed her arms defiantly and Draco had to fight his growing desire to laugh. Could life be more perfect?

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

This would be so much easier if she could just tell Harry and Ron the truth, Hermione sighed to herself. They'd know they had nothing to worry about and everything could just go back to normal.

What had she been THINKING, agreeing to this stupid scheme? Her friends would never speak to her again! And what did peace, love and all that really matter if Harry and Ron hated her? But what would make them like her…or even respect her again?

Hermione cringed as the horrifying answer came to her:

They'd have to think she was in love.

What true friend would turn away from a fool in love?

God, she wanted to vomit.

In love with Malfoy? How could she even fake that?

Hermione turned to look at her annoying husband, but found his attention diverting from her party as he spun them face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

A slow smile spread across Hermione's face at the look of shock and anger decorating the other girl's face.

Clearly, she'd heard the news.

"You…you married her?!" Pansy's cheeks were red with fury and it wasn't the prettiest thing Hermione had ever seen. Yet somehow, it filled her with a giddy sort of delight. Pansy was jealous of her. She'd been waiting for this day for years.

"Last week," Hermione gave her a sweet smile, wrapping her arms around Malfoy as the girl gaped at her in rage. "It was so romantic," she gushed, the automatic gag-reflex overcome by the shocked reactions of Pansy and every other Slytherin as the audience around them grew larger. "Wasn't it, honey?" she turned to her newly wedded husband.

Apparently he wasn't the only one working the audience, for Draco knew for a fact the joy radiating from his 'dear wife's' eyes had nothing to do with their nuptials.

"It was wonderful, cupcake," Draco muttered wryly, "But I rather preferred the three straight days after-"

Draco coughed as Hermione's elbow met his stomach.

"DRA-CO!" Pansy's high pitched shriek rudely grabbed his attention.

"You wanted to congratulate me?" he smiled at her, "How thoughtful."

Ignoring his hints, Pansy drew herself to her full height to screetch at him. "Draco! How COULD you? She's just a mudblood whore! How could you turn away from every-"

Her voice trailed off as he stepped forward, very close to her. "Pansy, I would like you to apologize to my wife," he told her, his voice silky as he stared into her eyes.

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

Pansy swallowed hard, trying to look to Crabbe or Goyle for help, but Draco stopped her with a look. "I…uhh…Sorry about that," she muttered, rushing away quickly.

Draco turned to the rest of the Slytherins, staring at him open-mouthed. He sent a look to Crabbe and Goyle, who stepped forward immediately.

"Congratulations, Malfoy," they spit out immediately, still eyeing Hermione incredulously.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Draco smiled, "But if you'll excuse us," he gestured to his slack-jawed bride, "We'll be heading back to our apartment. Any other congratulations," he emphasized clearly, sending a look to the remaining Slytherins, "Can wait until lunch."

Everyone filed away from them in a kind of shell-shocked bemusement, leaving Draco and Hermione alone on the train platform.

"I- You-" Hermione frowned at him, waving her arms about in order to convey her point.

"Uhh…right," Draco raised an eyebrow, "I totally agree."

Hermione stomped her foot, "You DEFENDED me, Malfoy!"

"Right. And that's bad because…"

"Because it is!" she flapped, flustered. "You've been calling me a mudblood all my life, what does it matter to you if Pansy does?"

"You're a Malfoy now," he shrugged, "If she insults you, she insults me." He couldn't believe she had a problem with him defending her. No wonder chivalry was dead. There was no appreciation these days.

Hermione continued to stare at him as though he'd declared Harry Potter his best friend.

He shrugged off her insanity and walked toward their ride, "Come on, mudblood, I'm hungry."

"Typical," she muttered behind him.

TBC