Last Will and Testament

Chapter Two: The Importance of Being Funded

Hermione didn't hear the rest of the will. Not that it would have mattered if she had. Most likely, Section 1.b. (and Section 3.d., indirectly) was the only place she was mentioned... Or at least where it would be relative. She imagined that if she were mentioned anywhere else, it would be, as she had imagined, his last chance to curse her.

At least, she calmed herself, it didn't say anywhere that she had to marry him. It only said that marrying her was the only way Malfoy would inherit his father's money. So that meant that he had to marry her. And there was no way that she would marry him anyways. She was, in all probability, going to marry Jeff. He was bound to be asking her at a point in the very near future. The thought gave her a tiny, satisfied smile.

Draco glanced over at Granger, his lip curling as he noted her smile. He glared at her, scowling. Why would his father do this to him? Oh, that's right. Draco cringed inwardly. He wished his father had never discovered where his son's loyalties lay. Then he would not have to worry about choosing between marrying a Mudblood--okay, fine, Muggleborn...stupid political correctness--witch or becoming bankrupt.

That was what would happen if he did not marry Granger. He knew how much it cost to keep everything running smoothly on all of his father's properties, and it wasn't pretty. The Malfoy fortunes, however, had been vast, and there was barely a dent from the cost.

His fortunes, however... they were nowhere near that large. He had inherited quite a bit from his mother's side of the family, and invested it. The profits were modest--at least for the Malfoys--but he knew they would not last more than a year, and much less if he tried to keep up appearances. He shook his head, scowling. Why wouldn't Uncle Bernard just die already? He'd lived for a hundred and seventy years. Wasn't he going to die anytime soon? Then he'd be fine. Then again...

Knowing his father, Lucius had probably prepared for that possibility as well.

So he had to marry Granger. There was no other way--his father had made sure of that.

***

"Well, that concludes the reading of Lucius Xavier Malfoy's last will and testament. I hope you all have a good day," Mr. Janis smiled, and was out of the room before you could say, "Quidditch." It was almost as if he knew what was going to happen. Then again, he probably did. He was, after all, a lawyer.

Hermione stood, getting ready to leave the office. Malfoy put a hand on her arm and smiled at her. She knew that smile; it was the one behind which his mind was working furiously to devise a steel trap with no escape. And that hand? It wasn't exactly doing anything to calm her already overactive imagination. Well, he wasn't going to get her. Not now, not ever.

"So, Granger, what do you say?" Malfoy asked pleasantly. Quite honestly, she had never before heard him use that voice.

"Is that supposed to be a marriage proposal?" She cocked a brow, waiting for his answer.

He scowled at her, dropping the façade with a bang. "You know very well it is. You are going to marry me."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, Malfoy," she replied coolly, keeping her voice low. "You may have been brought up expecting people to jump to do your bidding, but I was not. I answer to no one."

He could find nothing to say, a state that thoroughly annoyed him and left him nearly snarling at her.

Hermione smiled smugly, sweeping out of Mr. Janis' office, leaving a fuming Malfoy behind.

***

Hermione had a hard time not laughing as she walked away from Malfoy. It was so funny how he really seemed to expect her to do whatever he wanted at the drop of a hat--and the expression on his face when she refused him! That had been hilarious, and she had a feeling that did not happen very often.

She'd have to ask Pansy about that when the girl got back from her honeymoon with Harry. The two lovebirds had met at the Ministry (Pansy was an Auror), and had gone out for two months before Harry proposed. There had only been a month after that to get ready for the wedding--and now they were gone on a month-long tour of the continent.

Hermione hadn't been all that thrilled when her best friend had started to date the former Slytherin, but at Harry's urging she had gotten to know Pansy better, and they were now good friends. Ron had been harder of course, probably because his prejudice against Slytherins had begun in childhood, while Harry's and Hermione's hadn't started until early adolescence. Or perhaps it was just in the Weasley nature to be stubborn.

Thinking of the Weasleys (not to mention stubbornness) brought Ginny to mind. Hermione's heart cried out to the younger girl--really a woman now, she supposed. Ginny had just gotten out of a five-year marriage to Seamus Finnigan. The two Gryffindors had married almost as soon as Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts, leading many to believe that the youngest Weasley had done the deed a wee bit early and got herself pregnant.

However, Seamus and Ginny had not had any children during the duration of their marriage. Many believed that was the reason for the divorce, and in this case, "many" was right. Seamus had always been very vocal about wanting children, and there was little doubt that he had been extremely disappointed to find himself in a five-year marriage with none of them.

Ginny was depressed, to say the very least. She had wanted children almost as much as her husband and Hermione knew it must have been as devastating to her as it was to Seamus. The odd thing was that had disappeared after the final hearing on Monday morning, and hadn't reappeared until the next afternoon when she had shown up at the Burrow. She hadn't left her childhood home since that day, and hadn't told anyone where she'd been.

Hermione was very worried about Ginny. They hadn't talked at all--and she considered Ginny to be her best (girl) friend. She'd always thought Ginny felt the same way. It had been almost six weeks since the divorce. She hoped Ginny would open up soon, because Hermione was almost completely positive that she was getting worse, both physically and emotionally. She'd even put on a little weight.

Hermione shook her head, Disapparating with a loud "Pop!" right into her living room. "Elizabeth!" she yelled, "I'm back!" She fell back into her chair and sighed, closing her eyes.

Elizabeth Pearson walked (although glided would probably be a more appropriate term) into the living room, a large smile on her face and a light blue scarf wrapped around her neck. "So?" Elizabeth asked excitedly. This girl always seemed so happy; such an odd contrast to Hermione, who was sometimes horribly monotonous about everything. Everyone was amazed the two were able to share a conversation, let alone an apartment.

Elizabeth's priorities were thus: clothes, men, French fashions, men, work (which just happened to be fashion design), and, oh yes, men. Sometimes Hermione questioned her own sanity for living with someone so single-minded. But it was almost impossible to find a good apartment for a cheap price in the Wizarding world, so here she was, splitting the cost of an apartment with Elizabeth Pearson, fashion designer extraordinaire. Well, Hermione did at least have someone who knew what went with what, and what make-up to wear, even if she didn't use that fount of information very often.

And sharing the flat with Elizabeth wasn't that bad. Sure, the girl ogled her boyfriend more than she liked, but so far as she knew, Elizabeth hadn't made any moves on him. Elizabeth may have been a self-confirmed lover-of-men, but she wasn't one to go after another woman's boyfriend, especially her roommate's. Things like that had a way of exploding in one's face, as Elizabeth had said wisely during one of their nighttime talks. More importantly, however, Hermione trusted Jeff, and she knew that he would never do anything to harm or hurt her in any way.

Hermione snapped back to reality and attempted to smile at her roommate. "Well..." she trailed off, sighing. "Apparently, Lucius Malfoy made a clause in his will after he found out that his son fought for the light. Draco will inherit all the property, lands, and titles, of course, but the Malfoy fortunes..." she trailed off again, unwilling to speak of it. "Let's just say that Mr. Malfoy was none too happy to find out about his son's loyalties to Dumbledore and leave it at that, okay?" Hermione smiled brightly, trying to think of something to change to subject to.

Elizabeth rolled her blue eyes, the curls in her blonde hair bouncing as she shook her head. "Yeah, right. Like I'd ever let you go after you made it sound so interesting." She clucked her tongue impatiently. "What was the clause? And don't try to lie; it's obvious it has to do with you, what with the way you're avoiding it and everything."

"He has to marry me," Hermione mumbled.

"What?!"Elizabeth gasped. She certainly had not expected THAT.

"I said, 'He has to marry me,'" Hermione repeated loudly.

Elizabeth's mouth was agape, her curls still and her eyes frozen on Hermione's face. "I heard you, but...but..." she sputtered, unable to form coherent words.

Hermione's lips curved into a cruel smile. "Yes. I know."

"Jeff," the blonde finally gasped out, sending the curls bouncing again. She shook her head furiously. "What about Jeff?"

Hermione sighed, putting her head in her hands. "I don't know." She looked up, still resting her chin. "But it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to. Marry him, I mean. He can't make me," she said firmly.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't look convinced, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "'Mione, I hate to mention this at right now, and don't think I'm changing the subject or anything, but... the rent is going up again. Now, my salary is fine, because it's going up as well, but your firm is earning the same as it was three years ago, and you haven't been getting any new plaintiffs--or defendants, for that matter--lately."

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "do you think you could pay more?" At Elizabeth's raised brow, she quickly continued. "I mean, just for a little bit. I'll find a second job or something. I just need a little more time."

"You know as well as I do that's not going to happen. You barely have any free time as it is--can you imagine having another job?" Elizabeth sighed. "Look, 'Mione, I didn't want to mention this, but I'm going to have to move soon."

"What? What did you say?" Hermione's mouth hung open and she dropped her hands, sitting straight up. Elizabeth had never mentioned this.

"Francesca wants me to run the Paris outlet of Madam Malkin's. She thinks that I could do a lot of good there, and it comes with an awesome pay raise," she said while playing with the cuff of her shirt, eyeing it with a look only a fashion designer can have. Her blonde curls were falling in her face, obscuring her blue eyes. "I just found out today."

Hermione sputtered, blinking furiously, "But you can't leave!"

Elizabeth sighed again, looking up and meeting Hermione's eyes with an apologetic smile. "Actually, I can. I'm really sorry, 'Mione, but I can't refuse an offer like this. I'll be gone in three months."

***

Hermione stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. So Elizabeth was leaving. The girl had been one of her closest friends and confidantes since they had moved in together when she had started the firm. They'd known each other at Hogwarts, but they hadn't exactly bonded during those years.

Elizabeth Pearson had attended Beauxbatons until her sixth year, when she'd transferred to Hogwarts because of the war. She had actually grown up in England, but her French mother had wanted her to attend Beauxbatons. Both her parents had decided that Hogwarts was the safest place for her when it had become clear that Voldemort had returned.

She'd been sorted into Hufflepuff, and had made friends quickly. Her easy-going nature, knowledge of French fashion (especially during the Dark times, as they had come to be called), and good looks helped her make friends in every house and every year. Pansy Parkinson, Lavender Brown, Lisa Turpin, Orla Quirke, Laura Madley; not to mention all the boys falling over themselves to ask her to Hogsmeade or on "study dates" in the library--or the astronomy tower, for that matter.

The only boys who'd never gone after her were Harry, Ron, and Draco Malfoy. Her best friends and her worst enemy; respectively, of course.She knew that Harry had never really noticed Elizabeth because during his sixth year they'd been much too involved in the fight against Voldemort, as had Ron. Of course, at that time he'd been dating her, so she hoped that had been at least part of the reason.

Draco Malfoy, however... Hermione had no idea why he'd never noticed Elizabeth. She had seemed to be precisely his type. Everyone had thought that they would get together. Neither of them had ever had any serious relationships before, and they hadn't had any since they'd graduated. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if those people she classified as the "hopeless romantic" type still thought Draco and Elizabeth might get together.

Hermione frowned. The thing that bothered her most was that until her revelation, Elizabeth had acted as though she'd be staying forever. Well, perhaps that was why she'd wanted Hermione to go the reading of Lucius Malfoy's will--she might have inherited some money, and then Elizabeth wouldn't have worried as much about leaving. Elizabeth, was, after all, the primary source of funding for the apartment they shared.

She really wanted to talk to her best friend. Hermione stood up, suddenly energized. She would get Ginny out of her shell today! Maybe she'd even get her down to the gym to work off some of those extra pounds she'd gained. Hermione allowed herself a small smile, grabbing her wand. She was still ravenously curious as to what had happened between the divorce finalization and when Ginny had shown up at the Burrow. But then again, if she had her way--and she would--it wouldn't be long before she knew.