Carefully pinning a dark jewelled brooch onto her light grey coat, Hermione couldn’t help but stare forlornly at her pale reflection in the gold-framed mirror.
Her soft brown hair was tied up neatly in a severe bun and there was an impassive yet nonchalant expression plastered on her smooth face.
As her cold brown eyes slowly trailed past the elegant lacy gown she had reluctantly adorned as requested by Malfoy, Hermione winced slightly at the sheer fanciness and extravagance of the dress.
The obnoxious Malfoy had simply not paid the slightest attention to the exorbitant price when he had bought it for her. Wincing at the painful reminder of her soon-to-be husband, she chose to subconsciously divert her thoughts away from him. Instead, she concentrated on drafting out her plan.
Gently, Hermione extracted a perfume-scented letter from within the folds of her robe. The letter's red wax seal was broken and it was slightly crumpled due to Hermione's constant folding and refolding of the pages after reading it every night since she had received it.
There was a messily scrawled note written on the cover of the page.'To my love,' it read. It had been secretly delivered to her via an owl a few days ago.
Thankfully, it had escaped the detection of any of the Malfoys' house elves who would have intercepted and confiscated it - or worse, reported the contents of the letter to the Malfoys and Voldemort.
As Hermione slowly inhaled the delicious fresh aroma of the letter, she thought of the solemn promise which she had made to a certain someone. And that reminded her of the secret plan she would soon be enacting in the hopes of reuniting with him.
‘Are you done Miss Granger?’ a loud booming voice interrupted from the dark corridors. Hermione swiftly glanced at the large wooden door with slight annoyance.
The Malfoys' ever efficient housekeeper, Mrs Fidge, was, simply put, overbearing and tyrannical. The poor exhausted house elves suffered nothing but pure torture and punishment under her iron-handed rule.
Needless to say, Mrs Fidge showed an unwavering support and loyalty towards the prestigious Malfoy family and even agreed with their view that Mudbloods should be annihilated without any further consideration.
I should be thankful that I’m alive. Hermione closed her eyes-scared to even speak of her own fears aloud. Ever since Voldemort’s victory a year ago, all dark wizards previously sentenced to Azkaban had been released from their rotting cells.
Patrolus Bungle, a previously condemned murderer imprisoned for killing twenty unsuspecting Muggles had been reinstated as the Minister of Magic with other ruthless Death Eaters as his underlings.
It was absolutely mad and ludicrous - putting a dangerous criminal in charge of the entire Ministry. These days, nothing seemed to make sense.
Many good and law abiding powerful wizards were forced to quickly flee abroad; attempting to steer away from Voldemort’s controlling wrath.
Hermione clutched her heart tightly as her endless thoughts flew to her best friends - Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Thankfully, Harry had managed to successfully escape after the last battle at Hogwarts. From what she had last heard, Harry was still hiding in the snow mountains near the North Pole with Ginny whom he had vowed to stay with for the rest of his life.
Meanwhile, Ron and the other Weasleys had managed to avoid being caught or spotted for almost a year. And hopefully, it would stay that way.
Hermione shuddered at the mere thought of the possible cruel punishments or torture that might be inflicted on the Weasleys if they were to fall under the brutal and cold-blooded Death Eaters’ hands.
Ron, where on earth are you? Hermione quietly released a melancholic sigh. She had never gotten a real chance to speak properly with him after they were separated during the last battle at Hogwarts.
I wonder how he’s coping. Hermione frowned unhappily- wondering for the hundredth time about his current whereabouts and health. She knew the overbearing pressure and stress that could possibly evolve from the constant moving of the entire family from place to place.
It simply did not help much that the Weasleys had been blacklisted as some of the most dangerous blood traitors in modern history - having faithfully chosen to side with the Muggle-borns instead of Lord Voldemort.
Mudbloods. Hermione winced slightly at the sheer remembrance of the offensive name frequently hurled in her face. It was one of the several central yet trivial reasons this entire unnecessary war had started in the first place.
Initially, the scumbag - Voldemort - had persistently tried to destroy all the wizards with dubious family histories in order to ensure the supremacy and purity of the old blood line.
However, a huge problem soon arose due to the new law implemented. Hermione chuckled quietly at the mere thought of it.
Voldemort’s supposedly supreme plan to eliminate all Mudbloods had unfortunately backfired when he realised that the number of wizards and witches’ had dwindled drastically - causing the wizarding race to face possible extinction.
After all, what was a king when there weren’t any subjects to rule over?
Reluctantly, Voldemort chose to review all the Mudbloods and Half-bloods while selecting the best wizards and witches who would be offered the chance to live with one strict condition which was to be forced into an immediate marriage with a Pure-blood.
The urgency for more marriages arose after the corrupted Ministry had realised that more babies had to be produced to compensate for the number of deaths from the war.
Distinctly remembering her torturous trial at the Ministry, Hermione cringed with anger and disgrace.
*******
The scene of the cold dungeon where the pending trials had been held was vividly etched in her sharp mind.
‘Miss Hermione Granger,’ Dolores Umbridge called as her eyes flew to the girl’s pale, sallow face.
‘You can kill me right now,’ the young witch said in a hollow and strained voice - displaying her idiotic courage; a trait that was not often appreciated among the Death Eaters who valued power and glory more.
‘Now dear, we can’t possibly let you off so lightly,’ Dolores Umbridge murmured in a taunting voice - satisfied with the stricken look which momentarily passed over the pale face of the girl.
As much as she wanted to personally witness the girl suffer the immense physical and mental pain experienced in the Death Chambers, Lord Voldemort had given her specific instructions and threatened her to keep this witch, for she possessed undeniably powerful skills despite her contaminated blood line.
‘You will be arranged to marry a Pure-blood wizard of your age in exchange for your life,’ Dolores Umbridge pronounced, nodding, a mocking grin plastered on her smooth face as she watched the girl carefully.
However, Hermione gave no visible reply or reaction as she eyed the panel of judges with speculation.
‘I can see you are an extremely talented witch, Hermione,’ Dolores Umbridge murmured swiftly.
‘I’m a Mudblood, isn’t that sufficient reason for you to end my life?’ the girl spat loudly as her cold brown eyes raised with distaste and distaste at the mere sight of the woman whom she hated to the core.
‘Ah, but I’m afraid your talent cannot go to waste my dear,’ Dolores Umbridge continued in a dangerously soft voice. Lord Voldemort coveted talents and loyalty - and this girl possessed both though she made the wrong choice to support that filthy half-blood friend of hers, Harry Potter.
'Well, then what do you want me to do?'
'Simple, you will just go through with the marriage and help us to restore the wizarding race to its former glory by bearing children.' Dolores Umbridge brightened, as if she was announcing a grand master plan instead of a rendered punishment.
'You want me to be a puppet - to help you?' the girl screamed in agony- almost to the point of sheer insanity after being ruthlessly locked up and beaten in the cold and gloomy dungeons for countless weeks.
'Consider the choices before you girl. Denying yourself this opportunity is simply a foolish act.'
At that point in time, Hermione stilled herself as she laid out her limited choices.
She could live - or die; depending on which path she chose to take. Meanwhile, Dolores Umbridge gazed at the girl triumphantly, confident that she had finally nailed the girl to a corner.
Breathing steadily, Hermione replied in a strangely determined voice while glaring at Dolores Umbridge with a scathing and piercing look. 'I will take the offer.'
Finally. Dolores Umbridge smirked. The girl would be under the Ministry's control for she would no longer have any power to resist - without the help of her 'loyal' friends and the aid of her magic wand, which had been confiscated.
After all, she couldn't possibly rebel against the Dark Lord any further at this stage even if she possessed unlimited talent and skill.
'Who will I marry then?' Hermione Granger said while trying to stifle her agitation. He - or, this person - would be relatively important to her escape plan.
Of course she would never follow the Ministry's orders. She would just happily play along with them for the time being and hopefully, be able to take a chance or risk and reunite with Harry and Ron,Hermione thought grimly.
Dolores Umbridge frowned before scanning through the long list of names floating in the air.
Alas, she nodded and announced proudly, as if she was conferring a real honour to the girl, 'Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy.'
Draco Malfoy? Hermione's heart almost stopped in fear at the mere thought of the disgusting slimeball - whom she shared a deep enmity with. However, he could possibly be extremely useful to her.
After all, it could be much worse. Furthermore, considering the fact that Draco Malfoy was only a mere coward and lacked any initiative or motivation, Hermione was extremely confident that she would be able to trick him and lay out her plan under his nose without him even realising it.
Hermione pretended to hesitate before muttering quickly, 'I accept the offer.'
‘This is the only way to carry out my plan. I must bear with it,’ she thought determinedly.
'Wonderful,' Dolores Umbridge exclaimed, clapping. The judges at the panel nodded politely as they hurriedly noted the decision made for this particular case with their quills.
As Hermione gazed sharply at Dolores Umbridge, she couldn't help but feel immense hatred for this despicable woman.
As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, Dolores Umbridge proclaimed with a victorious and malicious smirk, 'From now on, you will be Mrs Hermione Malfoy.’