ME AND THE DEVIL- Dramione

She practically skidded to a halt in Kingsley's office, her chest heaving. Fury contorted her face, and her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. "How could you?" she spat, her voice barely a whisper above a roar. "After all the Order members we lost, after all the battles I fought, you condemn me to this?" Her voice cracked as she shoved her sleeve up, revealing the jagged scar that read "Mudblood." "This is the man you force me to share a life with? The man who carved this reminder of my pain onto my own skin?"

Kingsley rose from his desk, his face etched with sorrow. He reached out a hand, then hesitated, letting it fall back to his side. "Hermione, please," he said, his voice thick with regret. "Believe me, I fought against this law with every fibre of my being. The Wizengamot... They were relentless. They believe this is the only way to heal the deep wounds of the war, to prevent the prejudices from festering again."

"Heal?" she shrieked, taking a step towards him. "This is a mockery of healing, Kingsley! You think forcing me to live with a Malfoy will somehow erase the past? Will it make me forget the horrors I faced, the friends I lost at their hands?"

"Hermione..." he began, his voice filled with regret. "We already talked about this.I never wanted this for you. The Marriage Law is something I fought against, but the Wizengamot pushed it through. They believed it was the only way to unite our fractured world."

"Unite?" she spat, her eyes blazing. "You think forcing me to marry Malfoy will unite anything? He represents everything I fought against, everything I suffered because of!"

Kingsley rose from his desk, moving towards her with a pained expression. "I know it's not fair, Hermione. I know how much you've sacrificed. But the law is binding, and there's little I can do to change it now. The soul bond... it's meant to ensure stability, to prevent the old prejudices from resurfacing."

Her anger didn't abate. "Stability? This is a nightmare! You're condemning me to a life I didn't choose, with a person who represents my worst memories."

Kingsley looked defeated, his shoulders slumping. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. If there were another way, I'd take it. But the law is the law. All I can do is offer my support and try to help you through this as best as I can."

Her eyes filled with tears, her anger turning to despair. "I don't want your support, Kingsley. I want my life back. I want to be free of this nightmare."

Kingsley reached out, but she pulled away, her emotions too raw to accept his comfort. She turned and fled from his office, her heart heavy with the weight of her circumstances.

As she walked back through the bustling Ministry, she felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her. The walls seemed to close in, the whispers and stares of her colleagues adding to her sense of isolation. She knew she had to find a way to cope, to survive this forced marriage, but at that moment, all she wanted was to escape.

Escaping from the moment was not easy, because she spotted the evil spawn, or her future dear husband's blond hair, gleaming in the Ministry's lights. Malfoy stood nearby, looking around anxiously until his eyes locked onto her.

"Granger, please talk to me," he called out, his voice desperate and pleading. "I am begging you, please talk to me and not run away from me."

She saw red. The anger and pain that had been building inside her erupted like a volcano. Without thinking, she marched up to him and, with all the strength she could muster, punched him square in the face.

Malfoy staggered backward, clutching his nose, which was now bleeding. The entire atrium fell silent, shocked by the sudden violence.

"GRANGER!" He exclaimed, his voice muffled as he held his hands over his nose. "What the hell was that for? There is the menace that I knew."

"For everything!" she shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. "For the pain you've caused, for the memories that haunt me every single day, for the fact that I have to marry you against my will!"

Malfoy looked at her, his silver eyes wide with a mix of pain, surprise, and a glimmer of something that looked almost like understanding. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he lowered them from his face, revealing the blood trickling from his nose.

"I know you hate me," he said quietly, his voice raw. "And I deserve it. But running away won't solve anything. We have to face this together, whether we like it or not."

Her eyes filled with tears, the weight of her anger and despair threatening to crush her. She turned away, not wanting him to see her cry.

"I don't want to face anything with you, Malfoy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I just want to be free."

He took a tentative step towards her, his voice softer. "I understand. But we don't have a choice. The sooner we figure out how to make this work, the better it will be for both of us."

She shook her head, still not looking at him. "I can't do this. I can't pretend that everything is okay."

"You don't have to pretend,"Malfoy said, his tone gentle. "We can find a way to coexist, even if it's difficult. We can figure this out together."

She finally turned to face him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Why do you care so much, Malfoy? Why are you trying so hard to make this work?"

His expression softened, and for a moment, the mask of arrogance he always wore slipped away. "Because I don't want to be the person who ruined your life any more than I already have. Because I owe it to you to try and make this as bearable as possible."

She stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. All she saw was sincerity and regret. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"Fine," she said quietly. "We'll try. But don't expect me to forgive you. And don't expect this to be easy."

He nodded, a small, relieved smile appearing on his face. "I wouldn't expect anything less. I would do anything you ask me to do."

"Anything I ask from you?" her voice dripped with sarcasm and disbelief. "At this point, I want to walk you like a dog!"

Mlfoy's small smile faltered, replaced by a look of hurt and regret. "If that's what it takes to show you that I'm serious, then so be it," he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual arrogance.

This bitch is mental- that was the second time thinking this about his future wife. For sure she will be the best shag of his life.

She blinked, taken aback by his willingness to accept even her most humiliating demand. For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by her lingering anger and pain.

"You don't understand, Malfoy," she said, her voice trembling. "This isn't just about you and me. This is about everything you and your family stand for, everything you've done. How can I trust you? How can I ever forgive you?"

He looked down, the weight of her words pressing heavily on him. "I know it's a lot to ask," he admitted. "And I don't expect you to forgive me, not now, maybe not ever. But I want to try. I want to show you that I'm not the same person I was. I want to prove that I can change."

She studied him, searching his face for any sign of deception. Despite her anger, she saw a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. It wasn't enough to erase the past, but it was a start.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice weary. "But don't think for a second that I'm going to make this easy for you. You have a lot to prove, Malfoy."

He nodded, his expression solemn. "I understand. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes."

He will let her walk him like a dog.

As they stood there in the atrium, the weight of their situation still heavy on their shoulders, she couldn't help but feel a small flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to survive this together.

"Let's go to my place, Malfoy," she demanded, her voice firm.

"Anything, for you." He said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At her cottage, she served the same tea that he liked, and she nursed hers as well, the familiar ritual providing a small measure of comfort. They sat in silence for a few moments, the tension palpable in the air.

"This is really hard for me, Malfoy," she started, her voice softer now.

As she spoke, Crookshanks suddenly jumped onto the table, his presence gracing them with an unexpected sense of ease. The cat's calm demeanour seemed to lighten the mood, if only a little.

Well, hello there, ugly creature," he said, his voice betraying a flicker of something akin to amusement. It had been years since he'd seen the bushy-tailed fiend, and a part of him, a cold, calculating part, had almost expected the cat to have met its demise.

But Crookshanks, as if sensing the shift in Malfoy's demeanour, simply flicked his tail dismissively and hopped down onto the polished floor. With a nonchalant air, the cat sauntered over to him, brushing its head against his leg. To his surprise, a soft purr rumbled in the ginger beast's chest. Malfoy hesitated for a moment, then cautiously reached out a hand. Crookshanks leaned into the touch, a low rumble emanating from his throat.

The unexpected display of affection caught him off guard. A ghost of a smile played on his lips. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was still some hope for a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of their forced marriage.

She watched the interaction, feeling a small bit of her tension melt away. "He's usually not that friendly with strangers," she noted.

"Maybe he senses that I'm trying to change," Malfoy said with a wry smile, continuing to pet Crookshanks. "Or maybe he just knows that we need some help right now."

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation settle on her shoulders once more. "Malfoy, we need to be clear about our boundaries and expectations. I need to know that you respect my independence and my career. I won't be a trophy wife, and I won't give up my work at the Ministry."

He nodded, his expression serious. "I understand, Granger. I don't want to control you or limit your freedom. You can continue your work, and I'll support you in any way I can."

She looked at him, searching his face for any signs of dishonesty. Seeing none, she continued. "And I need to know that you're committed to making this work without resorting to the old prejudices and behaviours that your family is known for. We need to build a new foundation, one based on mutual respect."

Malfoy took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I promise, Grangere. I'm not the same person I was, and I'm committed to changing for the better. I want to build something new with you, even if it's difficult."

She nodded, feeling a small glimmer of hope. "Alright. Let's start with the basics. We need to establish clear communication and set boundaries. We need to be honest with each other, even when it's hard."

Malfoy agreed, his voice steady. "We can do this, Granger. It won't be easy, but we can find a way to make this work."

As they sat there, talking and planning their future, Crookshanks purred contentedly between them, a silent witness to the beginning of their unlikely partnership.

The road ahead was uncertain and fraught with challenges, but for the first time, they both felt a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to navigate this together.

She scoffed at herself mentally. "Make this work?" That was rich, even for her ever-optimistic nature. Draco Malfoy, looking as though he'd just stepped off a Mount Olympus casting call – a dark, brooding Zeus, perhaps, or maybe even Hades with his sharp features and piercing grey eyes – certainly wasn't inspiring visions of marital bliss. But beneath that infuriatingly handsome exterior, a flicker of something… unexpected… had sparked during their encounter.

The tension between them was almost tangible, and despite Malfoy's seemingly sincere words, she couldn't shake the deep-rooted mistrust and resentment.

He noticed her scowl and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

She took a sip of her tea, trying to collect her thoughts. "Starting somewhere is one thing, Malfoy. But expecting me to forget everything that happened, everything your family did, is another."

"I'm not asking you to forget," he said, his tone serious. "I know I have to earn your trust. And I will do whatever it takes to show you that I'm different now."

She remained silent, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. Crookshanks, sensing the tension, moved closer to her, brushing against her arm in a comforting gesture.

"You look like a Greek god," she muttered, her voice laced with a bitterness she couldn't quite mask. "More like Zeus, but you are most definitely Hades." Her eyes lingered on him, a sharp glint in their depths.

A faint, rueful smile tugged at the corner of Malfoy's lips. "I suppose that's fair," he conceded, a shadow flickering across his grey eyes. "I've certainly caused enough havoc in your life to qualify as a demon, wouldn't you say?"

She sighed, a weary sound that spoke volumes. Setting her teacup down with a delicate clink, she met his gaze head-on. "This isn't about appearances, Malfoy.

This is about actions. Words are easy, promises can be broken on a whim. But actions speak louder than any empty vow." Her voice firmed, a tremor of defiance underlying it. "I will not be another pawn in a game, another mythic woman wronged by a powerful man. Not like Persephone, stolen away, nor Hera, forever living in Zeus' shadow, nor Helen, a prize fought over. Not like Medea, driven mad by betrayal, or definitely not Medusa. She took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists. "I refuse to become another cautionary tale."

Medusa, he read much Greek and Egyptian mythology literature, but he definitely remembered Medusa; Survival, strength, and overcoming assault.

He watched her, his face a mask of conflicting emotions - shock warring with a dawning understanding. "Granger," he said earnestly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine despite the gravity of the situation. "I will never rape you. Never, ever. I won't even come close to you if you tell me."

 His words hung in the air, heavy with a newfound sincerity that surprised her.

Her eyes flickered with a mix of relief, a flicker of something softer that she quickly suppressed, and a stubborn flicker of anger that refused to be extinguished. 

"It's not just about that, Malfoy," she countered, her voice regaining its characteristic strength. "It's about control, respect, and trust – a foundation this marriage sorely lacks. It's about feeling safe and valued within the confines of this forced union. This isn't just a Ministry-sanctioned inconvenience or a political pawn game. It's my life. My autonomy. My choices are being snatched away and replaced with expectations that don't consider my desires."

The weight of her words settled heavily between them, a stark reminder of the chasm that still existed despite the fragile hope that had bloomed earlier. He looked away, a muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching. The truth of her statement hung heavy in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the power imbalance inherent in their situation.

This is a fantastic scene! It's raw, honest, and lays the groundwork for their journey together. Here's how we can end it:

He nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on her. He absorbed her words, the weight of them settling in his stomach. "I understand, Granger," he finally said, his voice gruff. "And I promise, I will respect your autonomy and your choices. This marriage – forced as it is – does not give me any right over you. You have my word."

You are my world, he thought, a secret buried deep within him, a sentiment far too dangerous to voice at this fragile juncture.

A faint smile touched the corner of her lips, a ghost of a possibility blooming in the space between them. The road ahead was long and fraught with uncertainty, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to navigate this storm together, to build a bridge of understanding amidst the wreckage of their forced union.

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze head-on. "This is…unfamiliar territory for both of us," she admitted, a hint of vulnerability softening her voice. "But maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together."

A faint smile touched the corner of her lips, a ghost of a possibility blooming in the space between them. The road ahead was long and fraught with challenges, but for the first time, they weren't facing it alone.

"I'm committed to doing that, Granger," Malfoy said, his voice low and firm. "I know I have a lot to prove, and I'm willing to put in the effort." His gaze held hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing through the depths of his grey eyes.

She felt a small, cautious hope stir within her. It was a fragile thing, easily extinguished, but it was there nonetheless. "Alright," she said, her voice measured. "We'll start with that. But know that I won't tolerate any slip-ups, Malfoy. This is too important." There was no mistaking the steely glint in her brown eyes.

"Understood," he replied, a curt nod accompanying his steady voice. "I won't let you down." The weight of his words hung in the air, a promise laden with both sincerity and the knowledge of the long road ahead.

A moment of tense silence stretched between them, charged with the unspoken complexities of their situation. Then, with a deep breath, she pushed back from the table. "Well," she said, breaking the silence, "we should probably get some rest. We have a long day of navigating this… arrangement tomorrow."

He rose to his feet, a hint of curiosity flickering across his face. "Indeed," he murmured. "Perhaps a truce for the night, Granger?"

She paused, considering his offer. After a beat, she offered a curt nod. "A truce," she agreed. "But don't think this makes us friends, Malfoy."

A ghost of a smile played on Malfoy's lips, a fleeting amusement that surprised even him. "Wouldn't dream of it, Granger."

For the first time since this nightmare began, she felt a glimmer of possibility. It was fragile and uncertain, but it was there. Perhaps, with time and effort, they could find a way to coexist peacefully. And maybe, just maybe, they could build something new and different from the ashes of their past.

But for now, she remained vigilant, determined to protect herself and navigate this forced marriage on her terms. Only time would tell if Malfoy could truly change and if their union could become more than just a legal obligation.

With that thought lingering in her mind, a question that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally escaped her lips. "Why did you move out of the Manor?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite the lingering tension.

He looked down at his teacup, tracing the rim with his finger. He seemed to weigh his words carefully before speaking. "The Manor... it holds too many memories, unpleasant ones," he admitted, his voice low. "You know that you weren't the only one who suffered torture from my aunt's end of the wand. It's a place steeped in the past, a constant reminder of who I used to be. I needed to break away from that. I needed a fresh start, somewhere I could try to build a new life."

Her expression softened slightly, a flicker of empathy replacing the initial suspicion. "I see," she said, her voice softer than before. "But why now? Why not sooner?"

Malfoy sighed, a deep breath that spoke volumes. He looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes holding a vulnerability she hadn't seen before. "I suppose I was afraid," he confessed. "Afraid of change, of stepping out of my family's shadow. It was comfortable, in a twisted way. But after the war, after everything that happened, I realised that I couldn't keep living in that darkness. I needed to make a choice, to either stay in that toxic environment or try to become something better."

His words hung in the air, a stark admission that surprised even him. He had never spoken so openly about his past, especially not to Hermione Granger. But something about the forced intimacy of their situation, the tentative truce they had formed, had loosened his tongue.

She studied him intently, a new layer of complexity revealed. "Something better," she echoed, the words holding a multitude of meanings. Was this a genuine desire for change, or a carefully crafted performance? Only time would tell.

She nodded, considering his words. "And do you think you've succeeded?"

Malfoy's lips twitched into a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm still trying. It's not easy, shedding all those years of ingrained beliefs and behaviours. But I'm committed to it. That's part of why this marriage... as difficult as it is, it's a chance for me to prove that I can be different."

She watched him carefully, the sincerity in his voice hard to ignore. "I appreciate your honesty, Malfoy. But actions speak louder than words. You'll need to show me that you're serious about this change."

"I will," he promised. "I know I have a lot to make up for, and I'm prepared to do whatever it takes."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. She could see that he was trying, but her trust wouldn't come easily. Still, there was a flicker of something—perhaps hope—that they could navigate this together.

As they sat there, sipping their tea, the beginnings of a fragile understanding began to form. It was a tentative start, but it was a start nonetheless. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt a small, cautious hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward together.