Ship of Dreams
Chapter Four
Six months earlier
"Please sit," the current Minister of Magic said. Though there was a please, Draco knew that it was an order. "Tea?" Fudge offered. Draco nodded once. He had a feeling that this meeting wasn't going to end nicely, and he might as well enjoy his privileges before it disappeared all together. The minister poured a cup of tea, and Draco added a bit of milk. After a few sips, Fudge started talking.
"I shall get straight to the point. These past few months have been nasty ones indeed, cleaning everything up. We have gotten almost everything done, except in the case of you. You, one of the only Death Eaters who hasn't been killed, sent to Azkaban, or been given the kiss." Draco's only response was to reach for a chocolate chip scone. If he spoke it would make things worse, but being silent wouldn't help either. It was one of those cases where no matter what he did he was in deep trouble. Draco decided that keeping silent was the lesser of two evils.
"For days a few trusted officials and I have gone over the matter. On one hand you were a Death Eater and therefore part of the darkest times the wizarding world has ever seen. But you have not killed, nor is there any proof that you used the Unforgivables. Not because you were against what you-know-who wanted you to do, but simply out of cowardice."
Draco decided to speak. "I helped you in the end as well as helped in the capture of several Death Eaters."
"Yes, and that is why this meeting is being made in my office with pleasantries instead of you having a trial and being in shackles. But here comes our greatest concerns. You willingly betrayed your friends, your family, as well as what you believed in. What proof is there that the same courtesy won't be repaid to us, who don't even have as much in our favor?" Draco waited for a while to make sure that this last one wasn't a rhetorical question. After a minute and a half, Draco decided it wasn't.
"You don't, Sir." There, honesty should score something in his favor, at the very least.
"But none-the-less, we have come to our decision. What matters more to you than your family name? The "pureness" of your bloodline? To show you support the way we will now run our government, you must marry a muggle." Draco pretended to be horrified at the news. He was horrified, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It wasn't a dementor, that was for sure. All he had to do was marry some rich (and pretty) muggle, and then spend all his time away from home and never be with her, like most marriages were. He could have several mistresses of pure blood, and therefore his off-spring would be pure of blood.
"Very well." He said in the most disgusted voice he could muster, and then gathered his coat to leave. This was almost too good to be true.
"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?" Fudge called right when Draco was at the door. He turned, a scowl on his face. "You must leave England, and we will be watching you. You have six months."
Damn.
The first thing Malfoy did when he got home was to change most of his fortune to either pounds or dollars. He
wasn't going to risk losing his fortune, much as it saddened him to change it. Then he bought a home in America to
take his bride to. America was the second best place to be, and at least he wouldn't have to speak a different
language. And despite how much it pained him, he studied the muggle world. If he were to impress the mother of a
daughter of marriageable age, he would need all the charm in the world.
&&&
It didn't take long at all to find the perfect candidate, the Granger's. Hermione was their only child which
meant she would inherit everything, and Mr. Granger was dead, which meant no over protective father. If it hadn't
been for the fact that Hermione had the choice of choosing her own husband, it would have been done earlier. But just
as he knew she would, she picked him eventually.
The plan was going perfectly, and in no time at all he would be back to his old tricks.
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