Claimed

Jessica and her mother traveled home from Malfoy Manor in silence. Jessica hadn't wanted to speak for fear of going into a screaming fit that would be out of her own control. Her mother, of course, had hundreds of probing questions for their absence from the little discussion. The two women noticed the two had left when they returned, Jessica storming back to her seat beside her mother. Narcissa observed Draco hadn't looked very happy either.

"So, where did you two go?" Mirabelle questioned, as she stared out at the sunset.

"To his bedroom," Jessica said through gritted teeth. Her mother nodded, as if she approved what had already been done. She acted as though she could have changed it.

"Did you talk?" Mirabelle asked, her questions infuriating Jessica further and further.

"No, we mimed and used sign language. It was rather difficult to communicate you know," Jessica said sardonically. Mirabelle frowned, and raised an eyebrow at her daughter's remark.

"What did you discuss?" she asked, moving to her next question.

"We talked about how incredibly stupid and meaningless this whole 'arrangement' is. And how we dread having to spend our lives together because you say so. Oh, and we talked about the weather, and the Chudley Cannons' recent losing streak," Jessica said, a sharpness and a scorn to her words.

"What else?" her mother probed further, virtually ignoring her latest comment.

"What do you mean?" Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow at her mothers question.

"What else...happened?" Mirabelle asked, a strange tone to her voice. Jessica immediately knew what she was asking. Her face grew hot, reddening at her mother's insinuation.

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention," she stopped, making sure she had her mother's attention then continuing, "...we had sex." Her mother's eyes went wide, as she stared at her daughter. Jessica wanted to take a humorous pleasure from her situation, but something in her still felt strange. She decided she would stop talking for the moment, leaving her mother staring at her horrified .

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Time passed, dreadfully slow, but it passed all the same. Draco woke up one morning, looking out at a dreary day. He made his way downstairs, stumbling upon a quiet conversation.

"So, when exactly should the wedding be held?" came his father's voice.

"Better sooner, than later. I don't know how much longer until our Jessica just runs off. Maybe worse," came the voice that Draco recognized as William's. He rolled his eyes. It was ridiculous how many times a week the families came into contact with one another. He decided on not listening. He wasn't particularly concerned with the date of his marriage. He turned the corner, surprised to see Jessica sitting in the drawing room. Her back was to him, as she stared lifelessly out the window. He turned, entering the room, startling her from behind. She looked up, irritation apparent in her attitude. She grinned, realizing what he was wearing.

"Nice pajamas," she said, noting his boxers and untied black robe. His bare chest peeked out, making her a bit uncomfortable.

He turned crimson, and properly closed his robe muttering an uneasy, "Thanks." He left the room, not caring to get near to her again. His father stopped him as he was making his way back to his room.

"Go get dressed. We're going out today. You need something to wear for the wedding," Lucius stated, a demanding tone to his words. Draco groaned, moving past his father, continuing to his room. Lucius continued, "Oh, and we picked a date." Draco stopped. The time had come. He entered his room, watching out his window, Jessica leaving with her father . She turned and looked up at him from where she was, as if being able to see him. Draco turned away bitterly. His life had begun to end.

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"You stupid fools!"

"No, not there. Over there!"

"Watch that statue! It's worth more than your life!" Narcissa and Mirabelle were barking orders at servants and florists. They were decorating a large room. The room the wedding was to take place in. Jessica couldn't stand to be in it. She stood in a robe, waiting for the seamstress to arrive. They were fitting her for her dress. Her mother, of course was choosing it. Narcissa would no doubt be opinionating also. Jessica stared miserably into space, just wishing she could, at that moment, encounter a Dementor. She'd walk right up to it and give it a great big kiss. She grinned at the thought.

"Jessica, come over here this instant! We can't keep the seamstress waiting," Mirabelle shouted over the bustle of the vast hall in which her fate would be sealed. And her life forever claimed. She sauntered over, her mood getting even more sour as she was forced to model dresses for them. The first was strapless and horribly itchy. Jessica frowned when it took practically forever to determine if it was, as her mother would say, acceptable.

"I don't know. I like the length, but the top is rather high," her mother said, adjusting the dress, tugging in places, pulling in others, there by increasing Jessica's discomfort. They decided they hated the first. They went through thirteen dresses before her mother found the one she wanted.

"I absolutely adore this one! What do you think Narcissa," came her mother's high pitched exclamation.

"Oh, it's lovely," Narcissa said admiring the dress.

"Hurry Jessica, try this one on," her mother said, shoving the dress into her daughter's arms. She sighed, biting back an outburst, and went back into the dressing room. She emerged, her mother's eyes lighting up.

"It's perfect," Mirabelle said, tears forming in her eyes.

"Oh please," Jessica said quietly. She turned to look in the mirror at her dress. It was long, with a lengthy train. and a puffy skirt. The lace arms were cut high by the shoulder, the neckline taking a bit of a plunge. Jessica detested it.

"I'm not wearing this dress," she protested.

"But of course you are. This is a very expensive dress, and you will wear it," her mother stated firmly. Jessica could have cared less about the price. She would have gotten married wearing a paper bag if she could choose her own husband. She frowned at herself, as the seamstress and her mother pulled and tugged, tucked and adjusted until she met their satisfaction. Jessica searched frantically for that Dementor, but to her dismay, she was unsuccessful.

@}---}---- ----{---{@

"Are you coming out?" Lucius asked, getting more annoyed.

"Do I have to?" Draco asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His stomach took a steep drop every time he looked at the suit his father had chosen.

"Get out here, or I'm coming in," Lucius hissed. Draco shoved the curtain to the tiny dressing room aside. His father and William stared.

"It'll do, I suppose," Lucius decided finally. Upon him saying this, Draco hurried back in, frantically pulling off the clothes. He never wanted to wear that suit again. Ever. He got dressed in his rightful clothes and sighed, knowing he'd have to.