Desperate Measures

Chapter Three

Hermione bit her lip as Draco approached the basin full of the unknown liquid. The words hair gel echoed in her head. Where had she smelled that before? Apparently it wasn't Ron. Hermione swallowed a sob. She had cried enough today. Plenty to last a lifetime. She was stronger than that, she knew that. It was about time she began acting like it.

Standing tall, Hermione put on a brave face. Suddenly, a chill climbed it's way up her spine. Looking down, she saw a tattoo working itself up her arm. Her eyes widened, she hadn't been paying attention to who was up now. Certainly, it couldn't have still been . . .

"Who has this matching tattoo?" Kingsley raised up a pale arm with a tattoo identical to Hermione's snaking up his arm.

Shaking, Hermione stepped forward, just as someone shouted out, "It's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

Chaos erupted in the hall, just as Hermione stumbled forward, into the arms of her betrothed. Her gaze shifted up to his arm, the arm with her identical tattoo, then up to his face. The face of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione gasped audibly and jumped away from Malfoy, as if her skin had been dipped in acid. Malfoy bit his lip awkwardly. Kingsley called for silence in the room. "Everyone, please quiet down! I know we are all surprised, but please quiet down!"

A hush spread through the room and you could practically hear a pin drop. Hermione found enough courage to look into Malfoy's face, but he was stoic. No expression whatsoever.

"Miss. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat," Kingsley gestured towards the table where all the matches sat at.

Hermione sat down quickly next to Ginny and Harry. Malfoy sheepishly sat next to Hermione, perched on the edge of his seat. Hermione opened her mouth to say something but stopped. It just didn't feel real. Hermione couldn't have been paired with Malfoy! Did they really think that Malfoy and her had an optimal chance of staying together?

Hermione leaned into Ginny's hug, pressing her palms into her eyes to stop the tears before they came. No more crying. Absolutely not.

Hermione sat up and turned to Malfoy. "I know we have had our differences and used to resent each other, but I'm willing to try to be civil if you will. There's no getting out of this, so we might as well try to make our lives a little less miserable."

Malfoy pursed his lips. No sneer or smirk. "I think that would be excellent."

Hermione then awkwardly turned back to her friends, too shocked and exhausted to cry.

Draco didn't hate Hermione Granger. At least not anymore. He had began to realize that his hatred for muggle borns was petty and he was only going along with it to please his father.

To be like his father.

Times were different now. Draco was different now. Draco no longer had to bend over backwards to appease his father. He no longer wanted to appease his father. His father, the one that had inspired so much tragedy in Draco's life.

Lucius Malfoy was now just a name, a name that meant absolutely nothing to Draco anymore. Soon, the name would be erased from all of the world too and his body would rot under the ground, far from where Draco and his mother would lay whenever they died.

Draco sighed quietly as he sat awkwardly next to Hermione. To be honest, Draco was sort of relived. He was almost positive that Pansy Parkinson was going to be his match. Not that Hermione was much better considering how horrible Draco had been to her for years. Draco figured that Hermione probably hated his guts.