Marriage Law: Four Separate Tales, One Magical Story

The Morning After

Harsh light penatrates the windows of the suffering students, their ears still ringing from their bad choices of the prior night. No one is awake, yet everyone is stirring- no-one slept comfortably.

Draco growls as his eyes pry open and, forcibly, adjust to the unnaturally sunny morning. An unaccounted for weight rests on his shoulder, too tired to investigate he closes his eyes once more, embracing the time he has left in his early morning, before the untimely quidditch practice. 

Shortly after, Hermione's eyes open, like clockwork- 6am sharp. Her head pressed against something hard, not a pillow, but a chest. Who's chest? Oh no. What am I wearing? What did we do? What she did was sleep, nothing more, definitely nothing less. However, her boundless imaginations was concocting every possible outcome, except that of nothing. Without noticing, she still hadn't moved her head from the, strangely comforting, surface she's currently resting upon. His soothing presence leaving her in a trance-like state of complete serenity. Not wanting to leave, she convinces herself she's still asleep, not ready to leave the warmth of his half-embrace, knowing this isn't true- she just isn't yet ready to admit that, because that makes it real.

Unbeknownst, to the brunette, the blonde boy has finally awoken, and is currently watching her actually enjoy his company- why hasn't she moved? Does she want me to embrace her? Is she too considerate and fears to hurt my feeling?   His overthinking secludes him from reality, severing emotional ties in fear of being a burden, or a pest. He was brought up in the cruelest of ways, so traumatic, his own minds fights to erase the memories- the memories of his father. The father who claimed to love him.

"Draco, I didn't realise you were awake," Hermione claims whilst awkwardly sitting up, separating the surfaces of their bodies, "sorry for sleeping on you, I think I had too much to drink, I can't even fathom what embarrassing things I might have said!" Hermione's worst habit, apologising for things she has no need to apologise for- contradicting her strong and independent demeanour.

"It's quite alright, Granger. In fact, you look very good in my t-shirt," he can not believe he let those words leave his mouth. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. "I mean... You know, you look... you were so..." Hermione laughs at this embarrassed remark, making Draco blush even harder. He looks cute. No, no, no Hermione, get these invasive thoughts out of your head before you start to actually want a future with the boy you once fought. However, it was too late, after one small glance in a shared direction- they were both done for.

"If I didn't know any better, Mr Malfoy, id say you were flirting with me." She states confidently, knowing she has the upper hand here. "By the way, do you happen to recall the events of last night? I don't actually know how I got into this t-shirt" She asks softly, with an innocence she hopes will make him submit and answer her query.

"I have a feeling I know what it means. B..but I certainly hope that's not the case!" he says with a stern yet unconfident tone. Hermione's face drops, maybe he didn't feel the same way. She abruptly gets up from the bed and rushes to the bathroom without another word. What did I say? Oh shit, thats not what I meant! Draco lifts himself up and knocks at the door.

"Mione, that's not what I meant at all!" He stammers, "I only meant that thats not how I want to remember us and the beginning of our... story- you are so much better than that, so much better than a half-arsed, drunken, midnight encounter, in which we may or may not have connected." She listens thoroughly, he can hear her sliding down the door, he drops down to meet her, tapping at the hinges, waiting for- hoping for- a reply. Tap, tap, tap. His heart lifts, she is okay.

Suddenly, the door opens, she stands above him, her legs cascading from heights unimaginable to him. She reaches out a hand, 

"Come on, get up!" Draco takes her hand, only out of a kind gesture- he gets up all on his own. She pulls him into an embrace him gently,

Thank you for last night, my memories returned as I sat there, hearing you tapping, comforting me- just like you did last night, and every other night of this otherwise nightmare of a school year." He rests his chin on her shoulder,

"Any time."

"Now then, hurry up if you don't want to be late for quidditch practice" with a flick of her wrist all of his supplies and even care package (magical remedy) for the oncoming head ache and the otherwise inevitable light sensitivity. 

"How did you..." He looks at her suspiciously, before being cut off.

"Shared timetable, I made it on the first day when the individual ones were delivered. I also made one for each of the other 'couples'." He looks at her as if asking when did you have the time? "Couldn't sleep."

He seems stunned that he didn't notice this before, it's so clearly pinned to their shared notice board in the dorm they had shared for the past week. Neatly swirled in her best handwriting, today's notes read:

'DRACO'S QUIDDITCH PRACTISE, DO NOT FORGET!'

Even her notes are grammatically correct. But more importantly, she cares. She really cares.

Keeping her word, she showed up at practise. Wrapped up in a green wool coat, with a white cloth scarf, two cups of tea in her hands. Is one of those for me? Draco thought before his thoughts were interrupted by shouting.

"Draco! Watch out!" He turns his head to spot a bludgeon heading towards him. Swiftly manoeuvring, he dodges it, to Hermione's relief. He smiles at the sighing brunette, one hand grasping her chest, before focusing back on his training.

This isn't so bad after all.