She wore that Granger expression, the one that said she was going to bully someone into something. Draco had a bad feeling it was about to be him. “I’ll marry you,” Hermione said.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not doing it for free. I marry you, then after a year we divorce and you agree to fund S.P.E.A.M.B. In perpetuity.”

“Out of the question.”

“It’s just one year. We would both get what we want.”

“Contracted marriages require consummation,” he said, adding a leer for good measure.

Granger had gotten more attractive since their Hogwarts days, he would give her that much. Her jumper was atrocious, though. He had half a mind to burn it.

To his everlasting shock, she merely shrugged. “It’s just sex. I’ve had it before and I presume you have too.”

She was utterly serious. Draco stared at her and contemplated being married to her. She was irritating and he might make her promise to never wear that jumper again, but it was better than the alternative.

Draco would do just about anything to avoid being poor.

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

“Then congratulations, Granger. You've got yourself a husband.”