When one received their letter from the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation of Population Control, informing one that they were to attend a compulsory dating programme after failing to declare a marriage contract, they are informed that the aforementioned dating programme would take approximatley 4 weeks. Hermione Granger, alongside the other candidates in her cohort, was about to begin her third week on the so-called marriage mart. It made her feel quite nauseous indeed, considering that she had no clue who she was going to choose. 

Miraculously, Hermione had narrowed it down to 2 men, neither of which would she feel particularly comfortable sharing the rest of her life with, having only met them twice through a pane of opaque glass. On the bright side, having only 2 dates to attend, meant that she only had to travel to The Ministry 3 times this week, once for each date and again at the end of the week to choose her future husband. Thankfully, her boss, Mr Soren had given Hermione 4 weeks of leave (the new legislation had forced his hand), therefore she was free to do as she pleased when she was not required at The Ministry. 

Her first date was to be with Mystery Man #7, on Tuesday. Getting out of bed had been a challenge. Hermione had spent the previous afternoon at Grimmauld Place, with Ginny and Harry. The moulding old townhouse was practically unrecognisable after their renovation efforts. Ginny it seemed, had her Mother's aptitude for household spells. The ancient furniture had been completely destroyed, walls had been stripped and carpets had been pulled up to make way for a much more modern decor. Harry had even had electric lighting installed, much to the fascination of Arthur. There were still rooms that were left unfinished, however. Ginny had quite urgently asked Hermione to come over and help her decorate an upstairs bedroom. Hermione had been suspicious of friend's sudden persistence, but hadn't managed to extract her reasoning from her. 

Physically exhausted from her efforts the previous day, Hermione practically dragged herself out of bed into the shower, welcoming the warm, relaxing effect it had on her tired muscles. Having stood in the shower for longer than she realised, Hermione dressed quickly, grabbing a Paczki (a deep fried yeast cake filled with custard) from the Polish bakery below her flat for breakfast. She apparated into a secluded alley way, around the corner from The street entrance to The Ministry of Magic, munching on her Polish doughnut as she walked.

____

"Hello?" Hermione called out. 

Once again, she found herself sitting inside one of the small rooms reserved for blind dates, in The Department for the Regulation of Population Control. She relaxed into the soft black leather sofa, that took up the length of the room, facing the white-fogged glass which her date was situated behind.

"Hi." Elligible Bachelor #7 replied.

"Hi." Hermione said, feeling herself smile. "Thank you for choosing me." 

"I seem to recall telling you the last time we met, there's no need to thank me." He chuckled.

Hermione stuck her tongue out indignantly, regardless of the fact that he couldn't see her. "Well, I'm going to do so anyway." 

"Stubborn Witch." He said with no real insult. "How have you been?" 

"Am I allowed to discuss my other dates with you? Or are you going to get offended?" Hermione asked him. 

The man took a second to think. "Offended probably isn't the correct term. I might find myself getting overwhelmingly jealous." He teased. 

"Is that so?" Hermione bit her lip. "You sound terribly possessive."  

The man sucked in air through his teeth. "That depends. You see, for me to be possessive over you, you'd have to allow me to call you mine." 

"I think i'd prefer it if you called me by my name." Hermione quipped. 

The man seemed to like her suggestion. "I have no problem calling you by your name, Hermione. I think your name would sound lovely attached to my surname." 

"Or shouted in the throes of passion?" Hermione suggested, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Exactly. Although, I'm not much of a screamer. I imagine my name will come up far more often." He purred. 

Hermione blushed. There was a warmth spreading across her lower abdomen and stickiness developing between her thighs from the mere thought of Draco's insinuations. Contrary to Ron's beliefs, Hermione wasn't particularly prudish, she just believed she hadn't met the right man. The one night she had spent with Ron panting above her had been disappointing. Neither of them had finished. Hermione had more experience with her own hands than she did with men. Regardless of her limited practice, Hermione had developed plenty of creative fantasies to keep herself entertained. 

"Only 2 dates in, and you're already trying to get me to sleep with you?" She said. "How bold of you."

"I can assure you, there won't be much sleeping involved at all. I'm simply informing you that I'm eager to fulfill my husbandly duties." He brushed off.

Hermione snorted. "I can assure you, satisfying me in the bedroom won't be your only husbandly duty." 

"I'm flexible. I can satisfy you wherever you like. In the kitchen, in the shower-"

Hermione interrupted him, with a laugh. "Draco stop. That's enough."

He obliged. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." 

The words fell past Hermione's lips without a second thought. "Uncomfortable isn't exactly the word I would use."

There was an audible gasp from the other side of the opaque glass, and Hermione realised her error. She imagined Draco's stupid smirk, and his smug satisfaction that he had managed to turn her on so easily. Part of her wanted to kiss his priggish face with her fist. 

"Did I-"

"Let's change the subject shall we?" Hermione urged. 

He seemed a little disappointed at her swift u-turn, making Hermione wonder exactly what he was trying to achieve. Did he want to test her? Find out how much dirty talk would it take before Hermione Granger yielded to Draco Malfoy, entirely? Did he expect them to mutually masturbate from behind the frosted glass? Hermione thought about slipping her fingers through her damp underwear, as he brought her to orgasm with nothing but the seductive power of his own voice. She felt herself clench at the idea of him, stroking his erection while she did so. Merlin. Perhaps he would suggest that they meet outside of The Ministry? It seemed too romantic, the idea of him laying her across his bed, naked, licking her between her thighs. 

Hermione squeezed her legs together, wishing her brain would change the subject. Never in her entire life, had Hermione even considered that she would be lusting over Draco Malfoy. Her 12 year old self would likely have given her 20 year old self a swift kick in the shin for even considering it. 

"So, how have your dates been going? Do I have another bloke to contend with?" Draco said. 

Hermione hesitated. "Come on, Granger. I'll tell you anything you want to know. I just want to find out exactly who I'm going to have to duel with in order to win your hand in marriage." Draco urged. 

She sighed exasperatedly. "I am seeing another man. Bachelor #4, if you must know."

Draco let out an inelegant snort and burst into laughter. Hermione huffed. "What? Is there something wrong with him?" 

"Tell me!" She insisted, feeling increasingly more frustrated as Malfoy fought to control his laughter. 

"Theres nothing wrong with him." Draco said, now gasping for air. 

"Then what are you laughing at?" 

He seemed to be having great difficulty collecting himself. Draco's voice was weak with poorly disguised chuckles when he replied. "He's older. He's not someone I'd expect you to be into." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If your intention is to prevent me from choosing him, please continue!" She said, sarcastically. 

Draco back tracked. "Bloody calm down and listen will you? I didn't say you were ill-suited. In fact, you're probably a very good match. He just... has a lot of life experience. The good and the bad." 

It seemed oddly kind for Draco, to endorse his competition. Hermione wondered what motive he had, exactly. Perhaps Elligable Bachelor #4 was someone who Draco knew well? He certainly knew the man enough to know that he and Hermione would make a good match. The thought filled her with anxiety. Draco, through the influence of his family was acquainted with a great deal of undesirable personalities. Although most of them were likely locked up in Azkaban, Hermione couldn't help but wonder exactly who it was that she had been talking to. 

Her previous theory popped up in her brain, flickering like a cheap neon lightbulb. Was Bachelor #4 Severus Snape? Was he truly the man she had been speaking to? During their student years, Professor Snape had been coarse and abrasive. He had been vile. This man couldn't possibly be him. He had been considerate, and offered her compliments. 

"I digress, what kind of dimwitted idiots have you been dating?" He said, sounding genuinely surprised and also slightly irritated. "Intelligent women are irresistable." 

Draco interrupted Hermione's thoughts. "Not that I want you to choose him over me." 

"Of course not." She said, suspecting she had missed half of the conversation. "I believe you said I could ask you anything I wanted? and you'd answer honestly?" 

He slapped his knee. Hermione didn't see it, of course. But that's what it sounded like. "Rather convenient that you were listening to that part!"

"I'm sorry." Hermione giggled. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice." 

"Yeah well I did." Draco didn't sound upset, just mildly disappointed. "I said, Bachelor #4 is an honorable man." 

He digressed. "Anyway. I'll hold up my end of the bargain. Ask me anything. What do you want to know?" 

There had been a question that he had been bugging Hermione since she realised that there was potential for her to marry Draco Malfoy. "How will your parents react, to you marrying a Mudblood like me? Don't you have a dynasty to uphold?" 

He swallowed loud enough for Hermione to hear. "I had been expecting this question."

"Look, Hermione. I'm sorry for how I treated you. You have to understand that those were my father's views, not my own. As you probably know, he's rotting away in a cell in Azkaban after everything he did. Just because I inherited the estate, it does not mean that I Inherited his views. He can think whatever he likes about my choice of wife. He'll never see the outside world again. 

"Yes, the Malfoy Estate is mine now. But I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it. I don't live in the Manor anymore, but my Mother is determined to live out the rest of her days there. I'd be more than happy to let my Mother live in The Manor. I could buy a more modest house and start a family there instead. I would never expect you to go back there.

"I will, however, need an heir. We're one of the sacred 28 Pureblood families. You think you're under pressure to get married and procreate? A representative from the Department for the Regulation of Population Control has already owled me personally, with an essay on the importance of continuing magical bloodlines. There is far greater pressure on us Purebloods than most people realise. What most people don't understand, is how close The Ministry's Marriage Law is to The Dark Lord's Pureblood mania."

Hermione gasped. "I never realised." 

Draco cleared his throat. "The Daily Prophet has conveniently neglected to mention it." 

"After everything we fought for." She replied. 

"My father once said, that there would always be corruption and scandal at The Ministry regardless of whether it was The Dark Lord or the Light in power. I never believed him." Draco said. 

"But to answer your question. You don't have to worry about your heritage." Draco reassured her. "Of course, if you fail to provide me with an heir they'll be trouble."

"Malfoy!" Hermione scolded

"Im kidding." He laughed. 

"You're awful." Hermione said. "I can't believe we got this far." 

"Why do you never talk about your parents?" He said, as though suddenly realising. 

Hermione feigned disinterest. "You never asked, I assumed you weren't interested. 

Draco gave a tired groan. "It has nothing to do with the fact that they're muggles. I just didn't think to ask." 

"Do you remember, before the war, Voldemort started ordering random muggle attacks? I figured that parents would be the first to be targeted, given my relationship with Harry. I obliviated them. I convinced them to move to Australia, and they have no memory of ever having had a daughter. Much less a daughter who's a Witch." Hermione admitted, as though it pained her.

It did pain her. 

He let out a low whistle. "Shit. That must have been awful. Can you reverse the spell?" 

Hermione shook her head. "The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad tried, but the spell was too good."

Draco was silent. It was a tragic situation, Hermione knew. It was a lot to take in, and people often felt uncontrollably sorry for her. She hated telling people about what happened to her parents. She felt responsible for their isolation, but often consoled herself that obliviation had been a necessary step. Her parents were still alive, and happy. 

"At least you never have to worry about meeting my parents. You just have The Weasley's to deal with." Hermione tried to make light of the situation.

Draco teased. "How did Potter and Weasley react when you told them that it was me you were dating?" 

She wore a guilty smile. "I haven't exactly told them, but since you brought up the topic. Hypothetically, if we were to marry, you're to try your best to get along with them." 

"Hermione, we work in the same Department." Draco defended. "We get along."  

"That's not what Harry and Ron have told me." 

"What did they say?! He insisted.

"It doesn't matter." Hermione replied bossily. "You know what I mean! No more arguing." 

"Alright. Alright. No arguing with Potty and The Weasel" He agreed. "Hypothetically, of course."

Hermione exhaled. "I'm glad we're on the same page." 

There were so many things to consider before marrying a man. It was times like this that Hermione longed for the advice of her mother. She had last seen her parents at the end of her sixth year, before she had obliviated them and sent them over to Austrailia, in order to protect them. Molly, he surrogate mother, had been kind. But it wasn't the same. Hermione wished she could sit down with her mum, with a cup of tea, and unload all of her troubles. Her mum had been logical, a trait she had passed down to her daughter. She would have provided Hermione with carefully thought-out advice and empowering words. Molly tended to be emotional and brash and so her advice, although well meaning, was not what Hermione wanted to hear. 

What Hermione wanted to know, most of all, was what to expect when entering into a marriage. She wanted to know, questions should she ask to ensure that she and her future husband were compatible. If she were to make an inescapable commitment, Hermione would prefer to be well informed. 

"What's your love language?" She asked, the question popping swiftly into her mind. 

Draco seemed a little confused. "What's a love language?" 

"Its a muggle concept. Your love language is how you express your love for someone else, and how you desire to be loved in return." Hermione explained, patiently. "There are 5 love languages; Words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time, acts of service and receiving gifts." 

Draco hummed. "I don't know."

"I express my love through physical touch. Sometimes, I don't even realise I do it. But I like to hug people, or share little touches that show my affection." Hermione said. "Although, sometimes i'm concerned that I'm a little too clingy." 

"I'm a possessive man. We like clingy women." Draco continued. "I suppose my love language is quality time.

"I like to receive physical touch, but i'm never any good at initiating it. The only time I'm any good at paying someone a compliment is if I'm trying to charm them into my bed. I enjoy arranging surprise dates, or parties, but I won't clean the house or make dinner if I can avoid it. My father used to manipulate people by buying them gifts all the time, so I certainly don't want to be like him." He explained. 

Hermione understood. "But you like spending time with loved ones? Maybe you enjoy arranging parties because it's an excuse to spend time with them." 

He seemed to agree. "If I did marry, I think I would like to allocate time to spend alone with my wife, though. Regardless of our social life or work life, or kids. I would like to spend a couple of hours a week alone with her."

Hermione stayed silent, processing it through in her mind. 

Draco asked. "What do you imagine married life would look like?"

She made a noise of anguish. "It's so hard to say. I always imagined that I would fall in love before I got married, so stepping into marriage would just be an extension of our previous relationship. But that seems impossible, now.

"If I can't find love, I want to find someone whom I can tolerate, and who will tolerate me. I am fiercely independent. I want my husband to respect me and my wishes, and allow me to continue to work. Eventually, I want to have children, and I want to spend as much time with them as I can. I want my husband to present, I want him to love our children even if he can't love me. 

Hermione felt hot tears drip onto her cheeks. She hadn't noticed it, but her voice was suddenly heavy with emotion. She felt ashamed of herself for getting so emotional in front of her date. She was embarrassed that such a simple question had prompted such an emotional onslaught. Merlin, if Draco wasn't already scared, he would likely be terrified now. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione, that we've found ourselves in such a piss-poor situation." Draco said, quietly. 

She sniffed, feeling rather pathetic. "I'm sorry I got upset."

"You have a very good reason to be upset. This whole bloody marriage law is appalling." He insisted, beginning to sound angier than perhaps he intended. 

Hermione understood the feeling. She too, was in such despair that she had turned to anger. "I thought we had escaped the darkness, after we had won the war. I can't believe The Ministry has been allowed to control its people this way. We trust them to be our leaders, and yet they use as mindless animals, forcing us to marry and breed."

"I can't offer you a way out, but I can offer you some reprieve." Draco said. "It's entirely your decision. I can't promise you mutual love, but I would certainly respect your wishes." 

Her heart caught in her throat. "Draco." She whispered. 

"I need you to consider it." He said. "You're my only candidate. I don't want to go through this awful charade again. If we were to marry, it would be an easy way out for both of us." 

"Of course." Hermione wiped her tears. Her voice was weak, clouded by the heavy conversation. "I'll think about it."