Chapter Three

Now I don't even know my last name.

Last Name - Carrie Underwood

Kissing her seemed like the thing to do. Draco had kissed girls before and had long ago learned that it was the easiest way to calm them down. It sure as hell seemed to be working. Little Red stilled and then softened like butter. Her eyes fluttered closed and he followed suit. She took a tiny step into him, her chest brushing deliciously against his. He had his hands on her shoulders and slowly he let one trail down her arm until it was on her elbow. He guided her arm, holding her elbow as he did so. Her hand realized what he wanted and slid up his bare back to clasp the opposite side of his neck, holding them together. He released her arm and started to put his own around her waist when they both seemed to realize what was happening.

They jumped apart as if burned.

"What was that?" she gasped, her face going a most becoming shade of pink.

"I had to calm you down somehow and slapping you didn't seem like a good plan since you said you have a smithing hammer. I'm not sure what that is, but it sounds painful."

"Oh," she said. "What is going on? Are we really married?"

"Apparently," he said, looking down at his ring. He couldn't look at her.

He had always found her attractive. In school it had been easy to ignore the attraction. She constantly had her brother around and he was a good deterrent for any romantic feelings Draco might have entertained.

Then there had been three years in Auror academy, three years without her around. And he had thought he was over her. But last night...why the fuck had Potter had to be the better man and invite him to the graduation party? Draco was content to be enemies with the bastard.

Then he'd seen Red. At first he thought he had to be a mistake. Not really her, but one of those girls that looked enough like her that after three drinks or so he didn't care and ended up taking her home. But it really had been her.

"How do we undo it?" she asked.

"There's no such thing as divorce in wizarding weddings," he said absently.

"Come again?" she snarled.

"We put the rings on. We said the words. Whether or not we meant them is moot. We are married and it's til death do we part, pumpkin."

"I'm going to kill you."

"You proposed to me," he reminded her, smiling.

"Kill me now. Wait! We didn't have sex. Can't we get and annulment?"

He thought about that. "We might have grounds. You are a virgin after all. And I've got ministry connections. People try not to piss me off. But I'd rather they didn't know I got drunk enough to marry someone, let alone a Weasley."

"Good. Let's get on that," she said.

"It's Saturday. Not much we can do right now. Might as well enjoy being Mrs. Malfoy while you can," he said, walking to his closet and grabbing trousers and a short sleeved polo shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting dressed. Since I brought you home and didn't shag you, I figure I'd better be nice enough to get you something to eat. And the house elves have a fit if I walk around without a shirt."

"But your pants?"

He looked down at them then smirked at her. "Ain't like it's nothing you haven't seen before."

"It is so and you know it," she snapped. She finished tying up her black boots with a savagery that bordered on animalistic. Snatching up her jacket, she huffed out of the room. He laughed softly, feeling pleased with himself. She'd probably get lost in five minutes.