Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Some Kind of Wonderful	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 12061 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
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A/N: My thanks go as ever to my beta, Mamcita.
Please note that the adult rating is for later in the story which is too lemony for Fanfiction.net. Dx
‘Ah, Miss Granger. If you could just come this way, please. Everything’s ready for you. My name is Mrs Westcote and I’m your official this afternoon.’
A sombre-looking woman in a forest green robe, her dark hair tied in a tight bun, gestured to Hermione as she finished signing in at the reception desk. Hermione took a deep breath and after thanking the receptionist, walked towards Mrs Westcote. The woman looked at her intently.
‘You’ve just come from school, have you?’ she asked. Hermione nodded. ‘You didn’t have time to change out of your uniform?’ The woman sounded disapproving.
‘I had to come straight from classes,’ Hermione explained. She didn’t add that she had purposely chosen to dress in her uniform to remind whoever it was she ended up paired with that she was still at school and expected to be going back there.
‘What a shame,’ the woman said as she led Hermione down the long corridor. ‘I’m sure you’d much rather be in a pretty dress for your wedding.’
‘I’m not getting married,’ Hermione said, trying hard to keep her voice calm. ‘I’m being paired.’
The woman gave a brief smile. ‘It’s the same thing, though, dear, and I’d have thought you’d want to look your best for it.’ She looked with distaste at Hermione’s bushy hair, which looked like it had exploded after the Potions lesson she had been in earlier that afternoon. ‘Would you like a few minutes to tidy yourself up before we go in?’
‘Why?’ Hermione asked blandly. She looked intently at the woman, who looked a little surprised.
‘It’s your wedding,’ Mrs Westcote repeated.
‘I am being paired with someone with whom I may have nothing in common and who I certainly don’t want to be with,’ Hermione said coldly. ‘And if I understand this new law correctly, unlike a normal wedding, where if the relationship doesn’t work out I can get a divorce from my husband, with this pairing I will be bonded for life with no chance of escape. Why on earth, when I have no interest in or desire to be involved in this charade, should I worry about what I look like? It doesn’t matter whether my partner finds me attractive or not, just as it doesn’t matter whether I find him attractive. I am only here because I have no choice in the matter. I have no desire to turn it into something it so clearly isn’t.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ Mrs Westcote said. ‘Although I think you may have misunderstood the Ministry’s intentions.’
She stopped in front of a door and waved her wand to open it, then ushered Hermione in ahead of her.
‘The Ministry uses a careful screening process to ensure the best possible matches, Miss Granger,’ Mrs Westcote continued as she walked around to sit behind the desk the room contained, indicating that Hermione should sit in one of the two chairs in front of it. ‘Whilst we are aware that it is not necessarily ideal, we try to make the process more bearable for you. For instance, you are unlikely to be paired with someone considerably older than yourself unless there is a very strong reason for that to happen, as we are aware that such age differences rarely make for a good relationship . . . especially if the male is the Pure-blood partner. Whoever you’ve been matched with will at least be on a par with you mentally, and it is quite likely you will discover you have quite a lot in common and share many similar interests.’
Hermione sat in the left-hand chair and looked across the desk. ‘I had a Pure-blood boyfriend already,’ she said angrily. ‘But I’ve been paired with someone else. I don’t understand why that should be, especially as I’m still at school. Surely a far more profitable relationship would have occurred if I had been left where I was with the man I’m already with.’
Mrs Westcote opened a drawer in the desk and pulled a large folder from it. She opened the folder and looked at the contents for a few moments before looking back at Hermione. ‘I see you were in a relationship with Ronald Weasley, Arthur’s boy.’ Hermione nodded. Mrs Westcote looked at her sympathetically. ‘I know it seems unfair to you at the moment, Miss Granger, but according to your file, your compatibility with Mr Weasley was moderate at best. As you so blithely pointed out, it is far too easy for couples to separate these days, which puts a strain on the family and any children that are conceived during the union. The new law was introduced to promote the best possible chance of strong magical children born to parents who are equally able to provide for them and raise them in an environment of love and mutual respect.’
‘Okay, I understand that to the Ministry a pairing is better than a normal marriage, although to be honest, it seems a little dictatorial,’ Hermione said. ‘But I don’t understand why you couldn’t have paired me with Ron. Then everyone would be happy. You would get your pairing and Ron and I would get to be together.’
Mrs Westcote’s expression became condescending. ‘I know that you think you know what you want, Miss Granger. But you are only nineteen years old, and what may be appealing at your current age may not seem so in twenty years’ time. As I said before, you and Mr Weasley were only considered to be a moderate match and that was not enough for the two of you to be paired, especially when a far more suitable candidate was available.’
‘But why did it have to be now? If the point of the pairing is to produce children, couldn’t you have at least waited until I left school? I have no intention of getting pregnant for several years yet, so another year or so wouldn’t have mattered, would it?’
Mrs Westcote looked back down at the file before turning her attention to Hermione once more.
‘I don’t know if you know the history of the marriage law, Miss Granger?’ She didn’t wait for Hermione to respond. ‘After it was discovered that extensive in-breeding is causing Pure-blood children to become weaker magically, not stronger, it was decided that Pure-bloods should be encouraged to widen their gene pool. In light of recent unpleasant events, it was felt that some Pure-bloods would be averse to the idea of voluntarily entering into marriage with Muggle-borns, so the marriage law was introduced to ensure those reluctant folk would participate fully.
The initial enactment of the law requested that single Pure-bloods petition the Ministry for wedding contracts with Muggle-borns over the age of seventeen. However, after only a few months it became clear that unless the law was more rigorously enforced by the Ministry, there would be very little change. It was for this reason that every unmarried person over the age of seventeen was sent an extensive questionnaire to complete and the screening process was begun, using the answers provided to match compatible couples — in addition to the petitions, which are still valid. It is for this reason that we take no account of your current romantic or general circumstances, Miss Granger. Once a suitable match has been made, we perform the ceremony and it is then up to you and your husband to decide upon living arrangements and such.’
‘Has it occurred to the Ministry that these Pure-bloods you’re so determined to force into marriage detest Muggle-borns and want them dead, not practising magic? It was only a year ago that the Ministry of Magic was being run by Voldemort and you were persecuting people like me, accusing us of stealing magic — and now you want to chain us to the very people who were so determined to get rid of us.’
‘You’re overreacting, Miss Granger,’ Mrs Westcote said. She had paled at the mention of Voldemort’s name. ‘The Pure-bloods who really felt that way were in a minority. And they were far older than you are, and as I’ve already explained, you wouldn’t be paired with someone like that.’
Hermione knew that wasn’t true, but it seemed there was no point in arguing about it with the Ministry official who was, it appeared, determined to see the best in everyone.
‘So what if my husband won’t let me return to school?’ Hermione asked belligerently. She spat out the word husband as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
Mrs Westcote smiled. ‘Under the circumstances, I can’t see that being too much of a problem.’
‘Really?’ Hermione didn’t sound convinced.
‘Miss Granger, you are in a very fortunate position.’ Mrs Westcote ignored or missed the snorting sound of disbelief Hermione gave at this pronouncement. ‘In addition to a very high score between you and your match, the young man in question actually petitioned the Ministry for your hand. Either of those things would have been considered good under the circumstances, but to have both is surely an indicator of the potential for a happy and fruitful union. That he petitioned for you would mean he already knows you personally and is, therefore, aware that you are still at school.’ She smiled once again at Hermione as if this settled everything satisfactorily.
‘Who is it?’ Hermione asked her mind in a sudden frenzy. She couldn’t begin to imagine who would petition the Ministry for her. Even Ron hadn’t done that, although she had once hoped he would take the initiative and do it without her having to tell him to. Did this mysterious person think he was doing her a favour?
Mrs Westcote gave a small shrug. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have his details, dear. I just have a note saying that you have been petitioned and that the results of your screening are incredibly high.’ She looked at her watch. ‘You’ll find out shortly; he should be here in a few minutes. Now, before he arrives I need to check a few details with you to ensure everything is all correct and above board.’
‘So were we matched first, or did he make the petition and then you checked to see if we were compatible?’ Hermione asked.
Mrs Westcote thought for a moment before replying. ‘I assume they must have overlapped. Normally if someone is petitioned it is assumed the couple either already want to be together or know each other well, so matching isn’t generally taken into consideration. I can only assume the two of you had already been matched when the petition came in.’
‘Okay, I understand,’ Hermione said slowly, her voice unhappy. ‘I just wish I knew who it was.’
Mrs Westcote smiled. ‘Only a few more minutes and the waiting will be over. Now, let’s just check these details, shall we? Please confirm that your name is Hermione Jean Granger, daughter of Peter and Helen Granger, born 19 September 1979 in London, England.’
‘That’s correct,’ Hermione said.
‘I can tell you a little about the ceremony that’s about to happen,’ Mrs Westcote said. ‘In a few minutes my colleague will escort your match into the room. At that point we will explain to the two of you what the bonding ceremony will entail and give you both the opportunity to accept or decline the match. Once–’
‘So I can refuse to accept the match?’ Hermione said, cutting off Mrs Westcote’s speech. She sounded suddenly hopeful.
‘There is the opportunity to refuse the match; however, it would obviously incur a penalty, Miss Granger, and I think it unlikely your future husband will be so bad that you will feel the need to go down that road,’ Mrs Westcote said. ‘In the unlikely event you should choose not to accept your match, your wand will be taken from you and destroyed, and you will be exiled from the wizarding world for the rest of your life.’
Hermione looked at Mrs Westcote in horror. ‘You completely ruin someone’s life just for not wanting to be tied to someone they don’t love? That’s barbaric!’
‘Come now, Miss Granger. I’ve already explained that every effort is made to ensure the match is as suitable as is possible – certainly more suitable than those made by free choice, in many cases.’
‘And what if turns out to be unsuitable?’ Hermione said. ‘What if I’m stuck with someone I hate or someone who wants to kill me? What then? Can we at least separate?’
Mrs Westcote gave a high, tense laugh. ‘My dear Miss Granger, I really do think you are overreacting. I can assure you your future husband has no intention of killing you. I hardly think he would have petitioned for your hand, knowing that you would be bonded for life if he detested you that thoroughly. And as I said before, the matching means you are almost certain to have at the very least a high regard for each other and hopefully, after a short time together, love.’
‘But–’
‘Miss Granger.’ Mrs Westcote’s voice held more than a tinge of anger now. ‘I can assure you your husband will not attempt to kill you. As part of the ceremony a charm is placed upon you both that bonds you — literally ties you both together, as it were. Part of this bonding is a life spell, which is pretty much what you would imagine: if your partner attempts to kill you, he will suffer the same effects. The Ministry has found this to be an effective way of keeping couples living together happily.’
‘So there’s no escape,’ Hermione said bitterly.
‘The Ministry envisages that by the time you have started a family the two of you will be happy being together.’
‘But that doesn’t always happen even with couples who are in love,’ Hermione said. ‘So why should it work with someone I don’t know, or at least not well, and might not even like?’
Mrs Westcote gave her condescending smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll learn, my dear. After all, you’ll have a lifetime to get used to it.’
There was a knock on the door. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, then began pounding faster and her stomach was suddenly full of swirling, anxious butterflies.
‘Well, here we go,’ Mrs Westcote said, turning her smile up to full. ‘Smile, dear. You’re just about to be a bride.’
Hermione tried to smile but she wasn’t sure she succeeded, or that she wanted to. She half-turned in her chair and looked towards the door as it opened.
She wasn’t sure who she had been expecting to see walking into the room, but Draco Malfoy most certainly wasn’t it. She looked on in shock as the unquestionably elegant tall, blond man walked across the room and took his place in the chair beside her. A short, squat, bald man with glasses, carrying a folder similar to the one on the desk, followed him into the room and joined Mrs Westcote behind the desk.
‘Hello, Hermione,’ Draco said, his voice smooth and seductive. He was smiling more widely than she had ever seen him do in all the years she had known him — an open and friendly smile, not the nasty smirk he usually wore when he was around her and her friends.
‘Draco,’ Hermione managed stiffly. Her brain was whirring at this turn of events as she tried to work out why the hell Draco Malfoy had petitioned for her.
‘Ah, so you do know each other,’ Mrs Westcote said happily. She beamed at the couple. ‘Miss Granger, this is Mr Threadwoody. He will be the one casting the bonding charm on the two of you today.’ She looked at Draco. ‘I’m Mrs Westcote, Mr Malfoy. I’m very pleased to meet you. So let’s begin, shall we?’
Hermione was having trouble coming to grips with the situation. Draco Malfoy had requested that she marry him, and he was sitting next to her looking as if this was the best moment of his life. She had no idea what was going on, but there was definitely something wrong about all this. Perhaps he didn’t know about the life spell and was expecting to marry her, then kill her — or maybe his father would do it. It wouldn’t have been the first time Lucius had tried.
‘I’m afraid Miss Granger had to come straight from school and didn’t have time to change,’ Mrs Westcote explained apologetically to Draco. ‘Otherwise, I’m sure she’d have looked prettier for you.’
Hermione scowled at both the comment and the woman who had made it. How dare the woman make excuses for her? That was a good point, though: what was Draco doing all dressed up? He had come from Hogwarts too, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known who he was being paired with.
’It doesn’t matter. Hermione looks beautiful in whatever she’s wearing,’ Draco said.
Mrs Westcote and Mr Threadwoody smiled approvingly. Hermione looked at Draco in astonishment. What on earth had happened to him? The obnoxious Draco Malfoy she knew and hated so much seemed to have been replaced by a pleasant and friendly clone.
Since they had returned to school Hermione hadn’t really taken much notice of Draco, although they still shared most of the same classes. Without Ron and Harry there it seemed Draco had little interest in confronting her and in the new era after Voldemort’s defeat he would have given himself a world of grief if he had called her a Mudblood, as he always had before, so it appeared he had just chosen instead to pretend she didn’t exist. This had been good for Hermione, as she could then do the same. So just what was going on?
‘We are here at the Ministry of Magic on 26 February 1999 to perform the life bonding ceremony between Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy and Miss Hermione Jean Granger,’ Mrs Westcote intoned. ‘Attending are Mrs Vera Elizabeth Westcote and Mr Raymond Radagast Threadwoody on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Mr Threadwoody will explain what the ceremony entails, and I will then ask both the participants to confirm that they agree to the bonding.’ She nodded at Mr Threadwoody.
‘The bonding ceremony will take place in three stages,’ Mr Threadwoody announced, his voice as solemn as Mrs Westcote’s. ‘The first is the agreement of both parties to the bonding; the second is the casting of the bonding spell that will join the couple together. During the spell-casting, a life spell will be introduced to ensure the safety of both partners during their future union.’
Hermione glanced at Draco at these words to see if he was surprised, but it appeared he either already knew about the life spell or he didn’t care, as he was sitting perfectly comfortably and the smile he was still wearing didn’t leave his face. Mr Threadwoody indicated a pair of plain silver rings which Mrs Westcote had just put on the desk. They rested on a black velvet cushion.
‘The third part will be the exchanging of rings, which is the physical representation of the bond that has been undertaken.’
‘I’ve brought our own rings,’ Draco announced as he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened the box and slid it across the desk towards the Ministry officials.
Hermione could see that unlike the Ministry rings, the ones Draco had provided were gold. They also appeared to be engraved in some way. She watched as Mr Threadwoody took both the rings from the box and examined them closely, whispering an incantation over them as he did so. She assumed he was checking to make sure there was no jinx on them. Finally satisfied, he smiled and placed the rings on the velvet cushion in place of the silver ones, which Mrs Westcote put back into her drawer.
‘They are beautiful,’ he acknowledged to Draco, who smiled once again.
Mrs Westcote cleared her throat, then glanced down at the folder in front of her. She looked up at Draco. ‘Draco Lucius Malfoy, you have petitioned for the hand of Hermione Jean Granger in accordance with Ministry of Magic Decree Number Twenty-Nine. Do you accept the terms of the bonding as they have been explained to you, in the sure and certain knowledge that you will be expected to honour and protect your wife for as long as you both shall live?’
‘I accept,’ Draco said immediately.
‘Hermione Jean Granger, you have been petitioned by Draco Lucius Malfoy in accordance with Ministry of Magic Decree Number Twenty-Nine. Do you accept the terms of the bonding as they have been explained to you, in the sure and certain knowledge that you will be expected to honour and protect your husband for as long as you both shall live?’
Hermione didn’t say anything for a moment. If she said yes, she was destined to spend the rest of her life stuck with a man who had always detested her as much as she hated him — not exactly happy ever after. But if she said no she would be expelled from the wizarding world, never to see any of her friends ever again. She looked at Draco, trying to work out what the look on his face meant. He wasn’t smiling any longer. Was he hoping she would say no? Was his plan to get her, the Muggle-born who he didn’t even think should have magic, out of his world? But there really was no choice. As unpalatable as it was, she had to agree because there was no way she was giving up her rightful place in the wizarding world.
‘Miss Granger, I need your answer,’ Mrs Westcote said a little anxiously.
Hermione looked back at the woman. ‘I agree,’ she said her voice clearer and steadier than she had expected.
She heard Draco sigh. Was it with relief? She turned and saw that he was smiling again now. Had he actually been worried she would say no? But that made no sense at all.
Mr Threadwoody asked Draco and Hermione to join hands over the desk. Once they had, he began to wave his wand, casting intricate spells in a sing-song voice. They watched with interest as strands of golden light left the wand, curling and wrapping around their hands and binding the two of them together. At one point a green strand was interwoven amongst the gold; Hermione assumed it was the life spell. Five minutes later the threads had disappeared, the bond between them now invisible.
The rings had been spelled, too — to what effect Hermione wasn’t sure, but the inscriptions gleamed with golden fire as Mr Threadwoody’s wand waved over them. The fire died but the rings still glittered, breathtaking in their beauty. Mesmerised by the sight, Hermione realised with a start that Draco was sliding one of the rings onto her finger. She looked at him, and seeing his smiling face she knew that she, too, should be smiling, that this should be the happiest moment of her life. But somehow it didn’t seem real. Then Mr Threadwoody was giving her the other ring and she was placing it on Draco’s finger. As if from a distance she heard Mrs Westcote and Mr Threadwoody congratulating them both on their marriage. She felt faint and her head was swimming.
Draco grabbed Hermione, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately, his tongue pressing through her lips and into her mouth before she had a chance to protest. Unwilling to kiss him, even if he was now her husband, she managed to pull away from him and out of his grasp.
‘Yes!’ Draco punched the air in jubilation.
Hermione looked at him in astonishment. The kiss had been completely unexpected and had quite shocked her, as did his reaction. ‘What on earth is going on?’ she asked. She moved away as Draco tried to take hold of her again.
‘We’re married,’ Draco said. He sounded ecstatic.
‘I know, but why the—’ She mimed an echo of his fist-punch.
Draco, having tried to grab Hermione once again and failing, instead took hold of her hands as he looked at her. ‘Because you’re mine — at last.’
‘What do you mean?’ Hermione said. She was confused . . . and a little scared by Draco’s reaction.
‘Do you know how brilliant this is?’ Draco asked her. He pulled her hands to his lips and kissed each one of them in turn. ‘You’re my wife and there’s absolutely nothing my father can do about it,’ he said jubilantly. ‘Not a bloody thing!’
‘I don’t understand why you’re so happy about this,’ Hermione said.
‘Because I’m completely and utterly in love with you,’ Draco said as if it was obvious. ‘And now you’re my wife.’
Hermione knew she was gaping at Draco’s pronouncement but could do nothing to stop it. ‘What are you talking about, Malfoy?’ she asked, irritated now. ‘You’ve always hated me, just as I hate you.’
Draco was shaking his head. ‘No, I love you — Mrs Malfoy.’
He tried to pull Hermione back towards him but she broke away, annoyed at his stupid act. She didn’t know what he was playing at, but whatever it was she wasn’t going to put up with it. She was going back to school, and as far as she was concerned he could stay right away from her until the school year ended. Only then, would she have to think about what to do in the future.
‘I’m not joking, Hermione,’ Draco said. ‘I really do love you.’
‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m really not that stupid,’ Hermione said angrily. ‘I’m going back to school.’ She looked at the Ministry officials, who were watching the exchange in confusion. ‘I would say thanks, but I don’t think you’ve improved my life,’ she told them bluntly. ‘Now I’m stuck with my worst enemy until I die.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘I’m going now.’
‘But the rings,’ Mr Threadwoody said, looking surprised. ‘The rings—’
But Hermione had turned away, heading for the door, and didn’t hear him.
Draco looked at the officials. ‘I really do love her,’ he told them.
Mr Threadwoody nodded. ‘I know that,’ he said solemnly. ‘Good luck, Mr Malfoy. I think you’re going to need it.’
Draco looked at the open door that Hermione had just passed through and sighed. ‘I think you might be right,’ he said as he, too, headed for the door, waving as he went.
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Some Kind of Wonderful