Hermione Granger, was, at the moment, a very unhappy witch. Walking out of the large oak doors leading outside Hogwarts, she tried her best to lose herself in the milling crowd of seventh years that were streaming out, away from the tall blond pursuing her. But she knew it was no use. What did I ever do to deserve this? She wondered with a grimace, darting behind a large tree. Anything to be away from him. Hermione poked her head from behind it and heard a sigh. “Why don’t we stop playing hide-and-seek, Granger?” Shoot. “I wasn’t hiding!” she exclaimed indignantly, reddening in paradox. “I was just…” “What, looking for a place to… leak?” Malfoy smirked, glancing at the tree she had been attempting to hide behind as he grasped her arm and pulled her quite forcefully towards the direction in which the crowd was headed. She had walked right into that one. * Draco glanced at the witch he was pulling along. Surprisingly, she was letting herself being pulled, with a wholly resigned expression etched on her face. He winked at her. “We’re taking a tad too long, aren’t we?” She looked at him quizzically. He took her hand in his, handling it gently, and heard Granger suck in her breath behind him. He was pleased to see that she was, indeed, wearing the emerald ring he had given her. He turned. “So you did like it.” She refused to meet his eyes. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Get your paws off me right now, Malfoy,” trying to tug her hand away. “I know a lot of other girl‘s who‘d kill to have me look at them.” “Sorry to disappoint.“ Her small hand was trembling in his. Ha. He carefully dragged a finger across her palm, his other hand grasping hers strongly. He traced her lifeline, and saw her lifting her head to stare at his movements. “What are you doing?” He finally reached the ring. Flipping her hand over smoothly, he placed his index finger on the glimmering emerald, whispered a few words, and drew Hermione to his chest. He felt the familiar painful jerk at his midriff and laughed out loud as he heard Granger squeak. * With a shallow gasp, Hermione fell towards the shiny marble with her hands flung out. She didn’t feel the impact, a pair of arms were supporting her. She wriggled out of Malfoy’s grasp and glared up at him, dusting herself off. She wanted some answers. “A portkey, Malfoy? Where are we? Why didn’t you warn me? And why did it only work when you touched it? Surely…” “Slow down, Granger,” he said, coolly slipping his hand into his pocket and doing a quick charm to ensure that his appearance remained flawless. She rolled her eyes, he was the one who had once put up his hand in the middle of Charms to demand that they learn one. She hadn’t been surprised. Still. She opened her mouth to continue- “Silencio!” Hermione glowered at him. Malfoy had the cheek to laugh at her. Why, that little… She was reaching into her own jeans pocket when he held up a hand and said, “Let’s not hex each others’ head off. You want answers and I can give them. You don’t poke me with your wand before I finish talking and I’ll lift the spell. Deal?” Unwillingly, she nodded, and crossed her arms, tapping her right foot expectantly. “Firstly, this is a special kind of portkey. It belongs to the Malfoys, it’s an heirloom, so only when one with Malfoy blood in them does it work. You have to say a spell, I won’t tell you what. Also, it will work with you now because you touched Malfoy blood. This leaves a permanent mark.” she looked sickened. Draco smirked and went on. “And it can’t be taken off once worn-” Hermione’s mouth fell open indignantly, she tried to wrench the ring off- “so don’t bother trying. And obviously I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. where we are,” he smirked, spreading his arms- “Is in the middle of Hogsmead, that is, one of the finest hotels here, that is specially reserved for those of the Malfoy clan to check in and out at any time they want.” Hermione was opening and closing her mouth furiously. “Anyone tell you that you look like a goldfish?” he asked, leaning against an elegant chest of drawers. She lunged. * “Argh! Fine! Gerrof, I’ll take off the spell, I swear!” Granger released her death grip on Draco’s throat, he fell o the ground gasping. After gulping down a few breaths, he slicked back his hair and looked up. “Violent, aren’t we?” She raised a hand threateningly. “Relax, woman! I’m just joking. Finite incantatem!” And it was of course very stupid of him not to have immediately realized that giving Hermione Granger her voice back was a highly stupid thing to do considering the circumstances. Not that he would have done much better had he not done so, anyway. “How dare you bring me into this… whorehouse for your little girlfriends!” she seethed, advancing towards the apparently unintimidated blond, her small hands balled into sharp fists which she was having trouble keeping down. She lifted them up and began poking him in the chest. “You. Get. Me. Out. NOW,” punctuating each word with a full stop on his chest. “I refuse to remain holed up here for another second, regardless of you being my technical husband.” He looked at her and decided to risk a snarky comment. After all, his wife deserved at least some consideration before being barbed. “You know Granger, I’m sure I can make you change your mind with a little persuasion.” “DRACO INGRAM MALFOY!”

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