The war is lost.
Harry Potter is dead.
And Hermione finds herself as a possession for Lucius Malfoy. Determined to survive, she tries to make the best of it and her world is destroyed no matter how close she gets to freedom. Forced to marry her enemy, humiliated in front of death eaters and used to breed the Dark Lord’s heir, Hermione’s only anchor to reality lies with Draco.
“To start, I think you’ll make a beautiful bride, my dear.” Lucius places his hand on mine, taking it and rubbing his thumb on my knuckles. I want to vomit.
Draco looks disgusted by the false sense of affection. He pulls another grape and pops it in his mouth.
“The fuck I will. I would never marry you.” I spit, still frozen.
Lucius lets out a heart full laugh and pats my hands, “No Ms Granger, I don’t suspect you would. Which is why it’s important to clarify. You’ll marry Draco.”
It’s at this moment Draco Malfoy chokes on his grape.