A continuation of my new Fairy Tale series for B/H pairing. Wrote up two hours worth of a second part and then my internet kicked me off and randomly restarted. I was a little pissed but then realized just how dark the original continuation was and decided to write something that melded better with the first. Anyway, enjoy, I certainly enjoyed writing this up.
Reviews for Second Chance Fairy Tale:
Emaelin, Arabellagrace, DarkDreamer1982, Annie, Heyy - Thank you all so much for reviewing my first B/H, I am glad to hear you all enjoyed and I hope this one makes you guys a wee bit anxious for the next continuation of the arch. Again, many thanks!
P.S.
Was going to leave this at about 6,500 words and no more, so it had no breaks in the body but then I was summoned to do damage control and isolate and fix the dozen viruses on my mother's computer. So, I've added a solid two hours worth of writing. Enjoy!
The air is thick and damp, rain pelting the windows of the freshly painted house-turning-home as Tuesday night fades and Wednesday creeps into existence slowly.
Hermione groans, shifting slightly and burying her face in the accent pillow for the caramel coffee colored couch, her body aching from painting every room but the one she now resides in with Winky and Barty earlier in the day-or yesterday, she reasons blearily.
Barty smirks at the picture she makes and moves from his spot in the doorway to settles the two glasses of white wine on the small end table before carefully moving so he kneels over his witch, knees fitting cautiously along her hourglass waist and his large hands laying to her tense shoulders.
Hermione tenses, eyes flying open and then she moans, turning her face from the pillow to look toward the fire at her right and slanting Barty a look from the corner of her eye as she smirks, "If you stop I'm going to go crazy."
Barty chuckles and his tongue flicks over his lower lip twice before he answers, "Then I suppose I'll have to keep at it. Such torture," he jokes lightly, brown eyes sharp and intent on the tension leaving his witch's face. "I just have to point out, I did tell you to let me magic it but you wanted to-"
"I know," she snaps in more of a whiny voice than anything, smiling and pouting up at him all at once, "You told me so, I get it. But being able to say we really painted this place is worth it in my book."
He hides his grin as he moves his hands a bit lower, gently but firmly displacing the knots of overexertion gripping her, "And you were the one who refused to take a break and you were the one who wouldn't allow me to get the higher bits and-"
Hermione groans, raising her right hand to his wrist and he feels a fierce protective happiness to know she no longer carries the bruise of Ronald Weasley's hand. "If you don't stop, I'm going to refuse to ever admit you were right again. Ever."
Barty sighs, stills his hands and moves as if to shift off the couch. "Oi, if you insist, I was just trying to-"
Hermione growls and then pouts as she tugs his wrist in a pathetic attempt to keep him. He laughs and leans down, kissing her own wrist as he gently slips his from her hold and lays his hands to her once more. She closes her eyes and he lets his eyes roam her face, memorizing this moment and her serene expression as he drags his hands along her cloth covered back.
"Ron owled while you were showering."
Barty's hands falter but he resumes as her lips press together in worry that she hides too obviously. "Hm, interesting. What did he have to say?"
The corner of his witch's mouth curls up slightly and she murmurs, "Nothing much. Not very interesting either, he just wanted to say he was sorry he was an arse to put me in your deplorable clutches and that Lavender is pregnant and he wants me to be the godmum." Barty's hands are still now and Hermione rolls beneath him, his body still kneeling to hover over her hourglass waist as she takes his hands from their current place at her clavicle. She smiles softly up at him, "In Ron-speak the godmum bit is as close to an apology as he'll ever give. He wants peace and friendship again."
Barty works his jaw and Hermione watches his tongue dart out once, irritation plain as he clenches his jaw. She tilts her head and then impulsively tugs at him until he almost falls atop her, taking her hint and moving himself to lay atop her as she parts her legs and shifts to be more comfortable with the weight of him pressed into her, though she knows he keeps the majority of his mass on his knees as his elbows dent into the cushion around her head and her hands slowly trail from his hands to his shoulders to clasp gently behind his neck.
"Sorry," he murmurs and she sees his mask of stone replaced with the relaxed smirk that thrills her.
"Jealously doesn't do much for you, even if you do look smashing in green."
Barty glowers but then perks up, "Really? You believe me smashing in, what, green is it? I'll remember that."
Hermione's cheeks flush and she rolls her eyes, "I wrote him back."
Barty nods slightly and keeps his temper in check as he focuses on the feel of his witch's crescent nails dragging against his nape.
"I bid congratulations but declined the thinly veiled demand."
Barty shifts and dips his head to lay forehead to forehead with Hermione. "And in regards to my deplorable," he lets his hands slide along her jaw line, "clutches?" he watches her shiver.
"I told him not to write again if he could not keep a civil, respectful tongue in his head when it came to you," her eyes flutter when his spark and she shivers even more when his hand closest to the couch travels to her waist and the other caresses her cheek.
"Such a fierce little wife I have." His voice tries to jest but she can hear the tones of true thanks and the almost concealed self-deprecating shame and the slight lilt of his possessiveness.
"Only as fierce a wife as you deserve," she answers, watches the middle emotion smolder and die from his light filled brown eyes. "But, if Winky walks in, I'm telling her this position was your idea and I'll be as meek and naive as possible whilst saying it."
He laughs and she knows he feels her thrill beneath him at the sound. He nuzzles his nose to hers and then leans back, examining her face, "Winky is visiting Sirius at the Black manor, conspiring with the other house-elves to plan a nursery."
Hermione bites her lip, the matriarchal house-elf had been ever present to stop nightmares and stolen kisses before she or Barty tumbled out of control. They were waiting till the coming Friday night after all, to consummate their union before the ministry, the church and the magical rites. Their early morning rendezvous had ignited something that felt closer to crossed lines than friendship and she's not sure if the little voice in her head is truly right about moving too fast and falling in the process but she pushes it away because she trusts facts, not instincts.
Barty leans in closer, lower hand caressing her hip as he lets himself tease her, whispers into her ear, "Don't worry my witch, I'll be a good boy. Until Friday."
Hermione shifts as his hot breath seems to light a fire that coils in her lower stomach, desperate to hide and ease her sudden heated arousal as she murmurs, "And if I'd prefer you didn't behave?" Her coy words don't veil her need but rather highlight her want for the man atop her.
Barty holds in his shudder at the feeling that courses through him at her words. His witch is a trial, one he is enjoying after getting to know her more and more and one he is rather hoping to revel in later on. "Then we are at a bit of a dangerous place. Unfamiliar territory," her hands leave his neck to trail down his back and her nails lightly slide over his t-shirt, he hisses a breath that makes her smiles, "We may need to bend the rules." Her laughter turns into a moan as he lowers his head and presses a kiss to her lips lightly, moving back as she tries to respond in kind. He nudges her head till she grants him permission to her neck, latching on to the soft flesh just above her collar bone as he nips and lightly traces the spot where a bruise will form from his lovebite.
"You will certainly not bend the rules," a sharp voice warns.
The two jump, Barty's groan of want turning to a growl of warning in itself as he and his witch both grab for their wands and look toward the source of the voice. Hermione blushes as Ginny and Molly and Tonks stand in the doorway, Barty's cheeks turning a light pink before he carefully sits up and helps Hermione to as well, the two the picture of innocence as they sit on the couch.
Molly smirks, "Ginny, I told you we should of just left dear," she scolds lightly, giving Hermione a wink that brings the blush back full-force.
Ginny snorts indelicately, "I think not, Hermione told me ages ago her wish to wait till marriage and she's so close now, I'm not letting her charismatic Scotsman wizard fiance talk her into anything else but what she wants."
Hermione's face is redder and her eyes wider and the fire's light flickers over her embarrassed face as Barty keeps himself from staring in shock at hearing his witch of a wife is still a virgin.
Tonks giggles and cradles her stomach, "Actually, Gin, they've been married for a good week now, he is her husband and so-"
Ginny rolls her eyes, "Right, yes. But, that's only the official gobbity-gook crap. The real ceremony is this Friday. So, no go on bending rules."
Barty clears his throat, "So...did you ladies break in or should I check the wards?"
Molly smiles as his hand is locked in Hermione's and his body tilts toward her of its own accord, "We used the floo. We called out our presence but, well, I guess you both were a bit distracted."
Tonks moves to sit by the fire, eyes fixed on the couple. "Winky's over terrorizing Sirius, Remus and I were visiting but I left when Sirius kept making rather mature-or, I guess, immature-comments on just what you two were doing left without Winky to interrupt. Winky was laying into him for a good ten minutes by the time I went to Grimmauld place."
Barty chuckles and Hermione mutters about a few indecent things she can do to Sirius. Ginny smiles wide as she sidles up to Hermione and kneels by her friend. "Guess what?"
Hermione cautiously eyes her, noting Molly moving to settle in the matching brown chair nearer to the fireplace. She smirks as she recognizes her friend's mood, "Harry finally did that thing with his-"
"Hey!" Ginny screeches, face matching her hair as Hermione laughs and leans into Barty as he tries to smother his chuckles and finally releases her hand only to wrap his arm about her shoulders.
Molly smirks and then cringes, "I'll pretend I never heard that. Though, well, never mind," she smirks mischievously and Ginny watches her warily. Ginny hated hearing her mum talk about sex because that led her to always assuming the partner she talked of joining her to be her dad and she wasn't sure if it was worse to think of her mum and her dad in some of the risque excursions or to think of her mum with some other man. But, she had to admit, her mum was well-versed in sex and she had gleaned a fair bit of her knowledge from her confidence as friend rather than parent.
"What?" Hermione and Ginny finally ask, hating to be left out of the idea that had struck Molly.
Molly smirks, "Nothing dearests. Just...if you ever get asked to play with ice cubes in bed, give it a try."
Barty coughs in embarrassment and Hermione silently puts herself in stitches beside him, Ginny's eyes widening and Tonks having a fit of laughter by the flames. Molly giggles to herself and then looks at Barty apologetically, "Sorry, they asked."
He nods, "Yes, I suppose they did." He shoots Hermione and Ginny a playfully sour look and then stands, hand sliding along Hermione's back and gently tugging at her curly-wavy hair as he finally breaks contact with her. "Coffee, tea or juice for you lot?"
Hermione does not argue to go in his place, knowing his gift of playing host is her gift of allowing him reprieve from whatever meaty matter the trio in their house-turning-home wants to hash over.
"Apple juice?" Tonks asks and receives a nod.
"Tea." Ginny and Molly answer in unison.
"I'm fine, thanks," Hermione smiles at him in thanks and understanding and he smirks.
"So a late night coffee then?"
She rolls her eyes but smiles wider, "Only if you're joining me. I can't be wired and awake by my lonesome." Her eyes follow him as he takes up the glasses of wine they had forgotten and her cheeks flush slightly as his look promises there will be a later for that.
Barty smirks slightly and wets his lips as he winks at her, "As you wish."
She watches him leave and then turns back to her visitors to find them all smirking at her knowingly.
"What?" she asks bemused.
Tonks snickers, "Oi, nothing, nothing. Just watching you, Mrs. Crouch, and your dear and darling husband."
Hermione narrows her eyes slightly at her friend and she prepares for whatever dig is to be issued at her wizard. None comes and Ginny nudges her leg, "Relax Hermione, we're not here to rip apart your bloke, it's obvious this is making you both happy. We're here to do some chatting and planning."
"Bit of gossiping," Molly throws in and by her dark tone Hermione knows the subject matter.
"Like about Lavender being pregnant and Ronald becoming a daddy?"
Ginny grits out, "Exactly. How-?"
Hermione barks a laugh and curls up on the couch, in the space Barty had been. She does not notice her shift to where his body was but the trio does and they all file it away under 'Happy Developments' as Ginny moves to sit next to Hermione.
Tonks shifts on the warm bricks of the fireplace and listens to Hermione spin her explanation.
"He seriously asked you to be the godmum?" Tonks exclaims.
"Yes!"
"The nerve! That pompous git has guts, no brain but loads of guts!" Ginny shakes her head angrily and looks to her mum in concern.
Molly sits tight lipped and then bites out, "I'm going to kill him."
Hermione laughs and gives her an easy smile, "Get in line Molly darling, he's on everyone's hit lists."
Molly shakes her head and stands to pace, bustling in front of the fire. "Nerve indeed! To hurt you, wrong you and then say sorry not for any of that but for giving you the shove that drove you to a man who actually treats you with respect and who cares for you and who has enough brains to know better than to hurt you and who compliments you beautifully is possibly the dumbest thing my youngest son has ever done!"
Hermione shakes in silent mirth beside Ginny, eyes alight, "Oi, Molly, please," she smiles wide, "I've told him not to write until he can respect Barty and if he does not heed that warning I'll just have to-"
"Let your doting husband have a chat with him?" Ginny grins as she says it.
Hermione snickers, "As much as Barty and I would love that, no. I'd like him to remain home, not back in Azkaban over Ronald."
Tonks tilts her head as she catches her friend's term for this place and she speaks slowly, "I heard no rebuttal to Molly's highlight of why you and Bartemius work so well together?"
Hermione blushes a bit and then mutters her answer, "Well, that's because I don't have one." Slightly louder, she smiles as she speaks, "Barty respects me, cares for me and he and I balance each other, we truly compliment one another and many nights we stay up talking instead of sleeping. The situation was less than ideal at first but I wouldn't change a thing of it because we wouldn't be sitting here now if I were to change anything."
A silence stretches between the women as Hermione's visitors digest the fact that she is falling head over heels for her charge turned friend turned husband, all three hoping that he can transform from husband to lover to other half for the young woman curled into the couch.
"I'm glad you're happy," Molly smiles warmly.
Before another word can be said Barty comes in, slowly at first till he realizes he has no need to beat a speedy exit. He hands out the drinks and then settles into the spot vacated by Hermione, leaning against the arm and handing Hermione her coffee. She goes to thank him but he holds up a hand, "Try it first."
She frowns and glances into her cup curiously, takes a sip and smiles. "Yum." He chuckles at her. "Thank you. Cinnamon?"
"And caramel."
Ginny smiles over to Molly as they recognize Hermione's comfort flavors of choice, chosen intuitively by the man who nurtures her as she needs nurtured and receives his own pampering in return.
"So...you lot were rather quiet when I came in. Done with your chat so soon? I've just made it back with drinks!" His tone is full of mock hurt, as if being left out of their gossiping is a knife to the heart.
Tonks idly swirls her juice, "Actually, just done with the gossiping bit. Now, on to the planning."
"Planning for?" the couple asks together and share an amused grin as Barty flicks his tongue twice.
"The wedding!" Molly exclaims.
"Oh, yes, of course!" Hermione smiles but she had forgotten the event in light of her time with Barty. It seemed unimportant now that she was living and working and sleeping with him day to day, as if a wedding was unneeded to join them anymore.
"We've got the caterer and menu and the invites and band and venue and the guest list and the guest favors."
Hermione blinks. "My, uh, what else do we need?"
Barty almost winces at the shouted lists from the other women and is relieved to know his witch, at least, has her mind on straight for the event.
"I caught cake, dresses and tuxes, and something about officials."
"Officiate. And, witnesses and maid of honor, matron of honor, best man. And your vows!"
Hermione turns to Barty, "Who should be the official?"
"Do they need to be muggle certified or-?"
"Anyone can perform a magical ceremony if it's pure of intent and approved."
He nods thoughtfully, sips his own cup of coffee and then mutters, "Well, your dearest mentor could officiate this time. If it's-"
"Brilliant!" Hermione beams, "Severus could do it!"
Barty smothers his smile as he delights in getting her to smile so brightly at him, for him, because of him.
"Dresses and tuxes?"
"Uh, tomorrow, er, today, later in muggle London?" Barty suggests.
Hermione tilts her head, "Most everyone attending will be a witch or wizard, the few muggles coming either know of magic or can be illusioned to be oblivious."
Barty examines her face, "So you want the traditional dress robes instead of a muggle wedding dress?" She bites her lip and he smiles, "White wedding, yeah? That's the term?"
Hermione smirks slightly, "You're right, you've amazing patience."
Tonks smiles to herself, breaks the moment between them reluctantly, "We'll meet up at noon and go for lunch beforehand. Now, pick your witnesses and such."
"We'll meet at The Steamy Cauldron then," it was a muggle themed but magically owned restaurant between the muggle shopping district and the magical one. "go from there."
Barty nods slightly at Ginny's words as he wracks his brain for someone to stand at his side. Hermione looks from the fire and her friends to her husband and bites her lip, "Ginny as the maid of honor, Molly as the matron. Tonks, Luna and Fleur as bridesmaids." She idly ticks through the list of people who would stand willingly with Barty and then smirks, "Need some suggestions?"
Barty smirks slightly, "Please, my mind can't wrap itself around the task of finding people who actually tolerate me enough to stand with me."
Hermione thumps his chest slightly and his hand is suddenly there, capturing hers instead of allowing her to resume fidgeting with the cushion of the couch. He interlaces their fingers and Molly, Ginny and Tonks feel like spectators to the couples slow spiral into love.
"Fred and George, Remus, Arthur and Harry."
Barty nods, "I suppose if they'll agree. Think I could convince Harry to stand as my best man?"
Ginny laughs, "For how he's been raving on about you two, I'd think yes."
"What do you mean?" Hermione frowns at Ginny.
"He's exuberant about you two, can't believe you're out from under Ron and he keeps saying such about seeing you both look so happy."
Barty smirks, gives his witch's hand a slight squeeze of reassurance, "Then that's settled. What's left?"
"Seating and cake." And vows, Ginny adds silently.
"Open-seating." Hermione decides quickly. "Tables of ten."
"Fair enough," Molly smiles, "Now, Tonks has been waiting all night-let's talk cake."
Tonks laughs, "Mmm, yes, please!"
Hermione grins and turns her look to Barty, arching a brow expectantly. "Well, what of it Mister Crouch?"
His lips twitch, "Hm," he ponders, "tough question Misses Crouch."
Ginny laughs and shakes her head, extending her leg to nudge Hermione lightly. "Come on, we have to tell the bakery what they're expected to produce!"
"Muggle bakery?" Barty asks.
Molly, wondering if he is uncomfortable with all of the muggle doings with the wedding answers too off-handedly, "Yes, doesn't have anything to do with our world, Harry suggested them and it seemed perfect."
Hermione smiles and soothes Molly's evident hesitation as she absently grazes the nail of her pointer finger along Barty's knuckles. "Good, that's a relief. There's a whole different taste to food prepared the muggle way and we've both come to agree we much prefer it."
Barty chuckles, "Yes, Winky's even enjoying it. Says it's the love that gives it better flavor."
Hermione's head tilts back to his shoulder as she laughs, his answering move to pull her closer carefully. Hermione's light filled eyes flick over her friends, "Trust me, if Winky knows anything, it's the taste of love. She drinks it in her tea all the time after all."
The trio smile at the apparent bigger joke being shared by the couple they are here to organize a wedding for. Tonks, frowning after feeling a kick to her ribs, cradles her stomach and sips her juice before moving them back to the appropriate frame of mind. "Cake!"
"Right, right, sorry," Hermione fights off her smile and tries to become as serious as her friends are making this situation be.
"How many tiers?" Ginny coaxes when the couple sit in silence thinking.
"Two?" Hermione offers uncertainly, glancing at Barty.
Ginny tosses up her hands, "Hermione! Honestly," she scowls, "You were once a little girl, you must have had visions of your future, planning little weddings for yourself and thinking of Mister Right and the cake and how your favorite teddy would be giving you away."
Hermione's lips twitch but a pang of sadness for the childhood she lost early makes her shiver and Barty holds her closer, shifting her so she leans into him and he melds them together as she watches the fire. "I was never that little girl Gin, I was the one burying myself in the library. Even when I was a tot and barely able enough to walk the fifteen blocks on my own." It was quiet there, it was where she would melt away and dissolve into classic novels of fiction and eventually into nonfiction books because she had conquered the supply of frivolous and now moved to the knowledge building books.
"Close your eyes." Barty murmurs and the trio of women watch as Hermione complies instantly, Ginny feeling a lump of guilt in her throat at having forgotten her friend's less than ideal start to life. "Now, are you listening?"
Even with her eyes closed she conveys her displeasure at his insinuation with just her look. Barty chuckles and kisses her temple, warm breath even warmer from the coffee.
"If you were to imagine your perfect wedding, every little singular detail just as you want, what would your cake look like? Shape it in your mind, tell me about it."
Hermione does as he asks and as she lets her self pan around the venue she imagines, the house-turning-home she sits in now, her eyes lock on his form next to the empty white covered table where a cake should be.
"Three tiers."
They appear in her mind and the trio of women take note as they watch, enthralled.
"Why three?"
Tonks and Ginny want to strangle Barty for asking as Hermione's brow creases slightly and they think they'll have to wait for more details because she'll lose track of their closest hope for a lead. Molly only smiles, sees the slight tilt to the couple's lips as Barty learns more and keeps Hermione interacting as she explains her answer.
"Balance, three is like twelve, it's a complete number. It's divine in its being, a trinity is ideal."
Barty smirks and watches her face. "Space between the tiers?"
"Yes. Sort of."
"Really?" he prods.
Hermione smiles and bites her lower lip, her head turns toward him slightly as if trying to gauge his reaction to her words despite having her eyes closed. "Roses. So dark red they look almost black, like the one in your lapel."
Three sets of eyes widen as they realize Hermione has her perfect groom at her perfect wedding and Ginny holds in her squeal as she forces a gulp of tea down to calm her happy stomach. Barty's brown eyes soften all the more at her words and he swallows hard. "Interesting." Her look is written in fear that she has upset him and confusion because she has not caught on to her own words about her perfect wedding. Soothing her, Barty raises her hand that holds his and squeezes gently as he examines the way their hands fit. "I'm not blocking your view of your cake am I?" he jokes, watches from the corner of his eye as she smiles.
"No. Just distracting me from our cake. Make me wonder," her smile turns devilishly mischievous, "that is, wondering what you'll look like with green icing all over your face."
Barty chuckles, "Smashing, according to my witch."
Hermione nuzzles closer to him and snorts lightly, "I'm not yours till Friday."
He growls and Tonks, Molly and Ginny are helpless spectators to the couple who is well and truly in their own world.
Barty forces himself back on track as his mind dimly registers they still have an audience, he pulls her impossibly closer though as if saying silently she is already his. "What shape are these tiers and spacers?"
Hermione purses her lips thoughtfully as she watches the plain three tiers of cake meld into a shape atop their respective rose bases. "Not exactly square, the tiers have texture. Little waves that roll on the border."
"Horizontally or vertically?"
"The waves flow horizontally."
"What else?"
"Fondant, silver, over the tiers. And each tier has green detailing, like vines falling from the top."
Barty envisions the cake she speaks of and smiles to himself. "What's at the top?" he asks curiously.
Hermione tries to see for him. "Not figures," she frowns and the image of the topper morphs and morphs and she tries to get the mental image to settle on what she wants but it keeps shifting and she sighs as she opens her eyes and looks to Barty who has his eyes closed still. Her mental image is gone but Barty is beside her with an endearing and curious frown on his face. "It wouldn't form for me. I don't know."
"A rose." Barty murmurs.
"And?" Hermione asks, hearing from his tone he is painting more than a rose to top their cake.
His lips twitch, "A candle in front of a black heart with silver and gold swirls."
"Black candle," Hermione whispers, eyes glazing as she imagines their cake. She smiles to herself and when she finally blinks Barty is smiling back to her.
"Settled then?" he whispers and she keeps her eyes from admiring how his lips form the words.
"Nope," Ginny interrupts, sparing them all the embarrassment of watching Hermione and Barty fall further into each other. Her friend is startled to realize she is not alone with her wizard but Ginny smiles easily, "And we had forgotten flowers. Red, almost black, roses. What else?"
"Traditional red roses and white roses."
"Black feathers." Barty rakes his eyes over Hermione, recalling the image she had painted in his mind beside their cake.
"I like that. The bouquets will have lace around the stems to hold, and the vases will have the same."
He smiles at the darker touches to their wedding and she does the same. "Oooh, we could find a hair bit, something to match your bouquet. Lace and feathers and roses." Molly smiles hopefully and then tilts her head. "How will you wear your hair?"
Hermione blinks, one hand around her coffee and the other in Barty's hand as she ponders her hair. Barty releases his hold on her, raises his hand to wrap a loose curl around his finger. "Down, mostly. A few braids twisted to pin under the hair bit," she answers as she watches him as if he is painting her image into his mind.
"Straight or curly?" Tonks asks, knowing full well.
"Curly," Barty smirks. Hermione hums her agreement and Ginny sighs happily.
"Well, we still have cake flavors to discuss. Could you two decide now or are you both able to slip away from work and come to a tasting?"
Hermione glances at Barty, "Do you have anything in mind?"
He chuckles, "Just cinnamon and caramel."
Hermione laughs, rolls her eyes. "We could probably go to a tasting. The ministry has been delegating my meetings out to allow me to prepare for the wedding-" she breaks off and narrows her eyes, "Fudge wants to attend. Along with two officials from the marriage department. Can you believe that?"
Barty growls, "Unfortunately, I expect nothing less than for him to invite himself and his own groupies to make sure we're being his perfect little poster couple."
Hermione shakes her head, "I've told him countless times that appearances don't mean anything to me and I won't let him use them to try and control you either. I'm going to end up killing him."
A squeaky laugh makes the couple's rant end and Tonks smothers her mouth with her hand as she giggles. Molly smiles and her twinkling eyes move from Tonks to Barty and Hermione, "Well. Sounds like we can plan a tasting tomorrow as well."
Barty tilts his head and his face is apologetic, "Actually, maybe not tomorrow." He absently dawdles with Hermione's curl, "I'll be overseeing a shipment of ingredients for the potion supply room and I don't much like the idea of cutting off the delivery boy so he leaves them in the hall. It'll be around five, we'll have plenty of time for anything the blokes need to be involved in but I may need to slip away before you're finished."
Hermione nods and then smirks teasingly, "We'll just push getting my dress till last, you wouldn't be allowed in to see it anyway."
Barty mock gasps and playfully removes his hand from trifling with her hair, to cover his heart. "You mean I'll be forced to remove myself from your presence sooner than work demands?"
She grins cheekily, "Afraid so, but don't fret, I'll have to come to work when I'm done to do some organizing of my own. And, well, make sure you haven't accidentally blown anything up."
He laughs, "Oi, now I object to that, I'm a fair hand at potions and I've not blown up anything accidentally since...well, now, I feel old."
His expression makes her laugh soundly and she turns to her snickering friends. "The way he said he hasn't blown anything up accidentally makes me scared to think he'll be taking up potions after the ministry clears him from his review."
Ginny tilts her head, "I've been meaning to ask, Mum and I are fuzzy on this bit, after the released kiss victims pass their review are they just cut loose?"
Barty shakes his head, "No. They still have mandatory therapy with Hermione for six months and six more is recommended."
"I'll work as sort of a hotline, motivation system to see them all settled in new niches, ones that won't lead to more prison."
Tonks shakes her head, "Barty, I really hope the others are as docile and easy to help as you are. You're like a teddy bear now, no offense."
He laughs, "None taken, I think. I'd rather hope the others aren't like me." His gaze drags from Tonks to Hermione, "That'll mean they're as attached to her as I am and that's just not a thought I like."
Hermione shakes her head, "That's not your shade of green,"
Molly stands as she observes their smoldering look. "Well, we've taken up your evening. Time for us to go. We'll get the details we've discussed down and see you tomorrow."
"Here," Barty stands, taking Hermione with him, "walk this troublesome trio out and I'll clean up in here. I look forward-and still kind of dread-seeing you ladies tomorrow."
Ginny links arms with Hermione, steering her down the stairs and toward the fireplace they had come through. "You two are darling."
"Absolutely." Tonks agrees.
"I couldn't be anymore excited for the two of you and the circumstances going as they are if this was both of yours choice and not some law. Oi, gods, Hermione," the woman suddenly pulls Hermione into a motherly bear hug and Hermione smiles into her shoulder as Ginny squeezes her arm and laughs. "I know it's wrong for me to be like this since you're the unspoken enemy with my son being your ex and all but I'm so over the moon about this and you and Barty and, gods, the way you both smile! I'm plumb pleased, my dear, and I cannot wait till Friday to watch this just come together so perfectly."
Hermione manages to pull her head back a bit and takes a deep breath before Molly releases her and she stumbles a bit from the sudden ability to move again. Ginny bites her lip and slants her a look that is hopeful and excited and the bookworm wonders what she is missing. "I know, Molly, I know. Trust me, I..." she breaks off and bites her lip lightly, "I didn't think I would be, but I am completely excited, absolutely chuffed to bits, for not only tomorrow but everyday leading up to Friday. I...I don't know, it's like this is all real just now, the wedding bit and the chance to go through a wedding with all of my friends," her eyes flicker over each of the women's faces, "but with Barty standing beside me?"
She smiles with cheeks pink and hesitantly admits, "I know I said I didn't care about marriage but now I don't think my ideas about the future would be the same without the mere idea and hope of Friday and marrying a man who I trust, who looks at me and sees me, the me deep down that most everyone glossed over for years because it was easier to observe the more obvious details of who I am or could be."
Molly bites her lip to hold her face splitting smile in check, eyes lit in pure bliss. "He needs you, but he's not using you. You both need each other and, like it or not, you're both pursuing each other."
Hermione doesn't dare speak the hope that she now understands having heard everyone speak of, seen everyone silently wish to come to fruition. A true relationship.
A true, honest, amazing relationship, partnership, marriage with a man, a wizard, she respects and cares for, wants and needs and most of all who she balances out while having him mirror her.
The soft shuffling of papers fills the air, a steady tempo for the rattling of glass vials and containers to build upon like a mad scientist's waltz, the concentrated breathing the third element to the dance.
A soft purr fills the air and suddenly the waltz stills, Hermione turning from her seat on the floor looking toward the doorway to look at the cat awake on the windowsill.
"Oi! You silly cat, glad to see you're awake!" Hermione glares but her worry is evident as she scans the tom cat-kneazel for signs of illness.
Barty smirks, dryly addressing Crookshanks, "A whole pound of fudge...I thought only dogs did that?"
The cat purrs louder and Hermione shudders, having watched Barty pour a potion down her familiar's throat to see him well again. She flicks her gaze to Barty, smiles, "Thank you."
He snorts, "I can't have the only other bloke in the house going away, can I?" He softens slightly, "You don't need to thank me. I'm just glad he's stirring."
Hermione nods, stands and shuts the door to the potions ingredient store room, looking at the cat who had traveled with them to work to be watched over and then to the wizard who had saved her beloved familiar.
She moves over and props against the workstation, watches him move with sure ease as he deftly sorts through the stock and she can hear in his mind the wheels turning as he calculates what goes where for optimal shelf life while maintaining potency and safety.
"If you're going to watch-"
"Don't," she finishes. "Yes, you've mentioned that." She smiles as she continues to watch him and knows he hates it when he is observed. But he loves to observe and so she walks the line between poking him and paining him. She is careful not to pain him.
He finally tires of the feel of her eyes on him, the feel making him itchy and conscious of every twitch, every breath. He is an observant creature, naturally, being observed makes him turn to self-examination and he is not comfortable with even his habits so the inner turmoil it creates is exponentially more unwelcome.
He lays aside the three glass containers of dittany and plants his hands on the counter beside the infuriating witch who knows how to ruffle his feathers instinctively.
"Done?" he drawls, darting his tongue out twice. Hermione notices it is not thrice for his impatience or anger so she smiles.
"No." She bites her lip and then shrugs, looking away finally as Crookshanks paws her quill, "I like to watch you. I know you don't like it, but, well," she glances back and smirks, "you're fascinating and easy to admire."
Barty's laugh makes her smirk turn into a silly grin as he moves to settle his hands on either side of her on the counter. "Really? I'm fascinating?" he leans closer, whispers into her skin, "You think I'm easy to admire." His lips nearly graze her butterflying pulse point, "And you like," he stresses the word with an almost hiss like sound that she has nod heard from him except when he is immersed in the moment or full of emotion, it makes her shiver, "watching me." Barty leans back to do his own admiring of the mess of one Misses Hermione Jean Granger-Crouch he has just created. He raises his hands and captures her face in his hands, watches her closely, "I suppose I should be flattered that my wife enjoys observing me. Minx."
Hermione releases her lip from the gnaw of her teeth and glares playfully, "You're no innocent Mister Crouch, I can feel your eyes on me an awful lot. For someone who hates being observed you sure do dabble in your own poison excessively."
He grins, a flash of almost bared teeth. That smile, the uncivil one, is how she knows he is truly relaxed and enjoying himself.
"Well, if I were to cut out all of my vices you and the late night coffee would be out. And I can't have that, now can I?" he frowns, letting a look of playful horror cross his features, "No midnight coffee, the torture! Oh, and I suppose no wife to enjoy it with-ooomph!"
He laughs, one hand leaving her face to cover her loose fist over his right ribs. They share a truly content smile and Barty's eyes spark with a thought.
"When Ginny mentioned vows...do you want to have our own written vows to read or are you content with the regular vows?"
He sees the flicker of restrained longing on her face. "I'm content."
Barty wrinkles his nose, flicks his tongue out twice, "Bad phrasing. Let me try again, the wedding of your dreams-traditional vows or personal vows? Honestly Hermione."
She lowers her gaze and shrugs, hand wiggling in his to break free but he holds gently. "Wedding of my dreams, personal. But," she rolls her eyes, "You don't have to fake all of this to appease me. We've signed a far more serious contract than everyone else forced into marriage under this law and that's enough. You don't need to go about trying to prove anything or to make this-"
His look silences her and she flickers over her own words in replay to suss out her mistake, how she has brought the pain she tries to keep off his face into existence. His voice stops her thinking, "Do you regret the contract? Do you regret us?" The silent already twists the fist clenched at the base of her throat and she shakes her head vehemently.
"No! Heavens, no!" She yanks her hand from his and covers his as it lays on her cheek. She holds his one large hand in both of hers and meets his eyes with her own truth filled orbs. "I didn't mean that I regretted any of this! I just don't want you to regret all that you've given me, to resent all of this later on. I don't...this, this marriage and the wedding tomorrow...they're not from my dreams." She swallows hard and tries to gather her courage as he looks at her with his mask of protective stone. "This is far more than I could dream, so much more. This is everything I never knew I wanted. The contract, the marriage...you. And I'm scared because I don't want to look at you down the line and see a flicker of sorrow or bitterness in your eyes."
His silence and upholding of his mask make her nervous and she feels as if she has lowered the gates to her heart a little bit and it is just enough to allow a scorching sun to burn the flesh used to darkness.
"Hermione," he whispers, drawing her from her thoughts, he lays his forehead to hers and his other hand raises to mold around the nape of her neck. He swishes his thumb over the flesh absently as he now gathers his courage, his words. "I could never regret you," he settles for this, hopes she knows it means their everything because she is the catalyst that started it all and she is the bonding agent that stuck all of it together and she is the thread that keeps it together.
Hermione swallows the fist in her throat and smiles shakily, eyes locked with Barty's as they both silently assess where it is they are on this road through the woods that will lead them to, inevitably, to an end.
Crookshanks takes that moment to wind around Hermione's ankles and swat lazily at Barty's shoes. They each look down and back to each other, Barty smirking, because he knows his eloquent witch can form vows for their wedding within the span of a breath so he resolves to write up his own vows for her and, rather than make a spectacle of the gesture for her, he will share them with her during their first dance.
Harry laughs, holding his side as Barty winces and pulls a face of pure discontent, jaw chomping slowly as he tries to keep himself from tasting the food in his mouth.
After he swallows he exclaims, "That was wretched!"
Hermione lifts her head from the table, flushed from her laughter, "I'm...sorry," she gasps, "had to...be sure." She covers her face and continues reveling in her mirth as Barty pushes the sample piece of pale yellow cake away.
"I hate pears."
Ginny and Tonks contain their laughter but they make the mistake of looking to Remus who has his lips pressed tightly to keep in his own laughter. They lose it once more and the consultant for the wedding party bites her lip as she looks over them all bewildered.
"Here," Hermione hands Barty her bottle of water and he takes a sip to clear his palette of the horrendous pear taste.
Watching his witch's lips twitch in amusement he growls lightly and captures her hand, nipping at her finger as she chuckles and allows him to domineer over her left hand, intertwining their fingers.
"So are you all still in love with the chocolate and french vanilla?"
Hermione looks to Barty who crinkles his nose, "Ah, yes." She laughs, enjoying the ease with which she can laugh with him. "Oh, hush," he glowers, "I can't believe you fed me pear."
"Oi," she looks to the consultant who is watching between the two like it is a match and someone must win. "Now all I'll hear, all day, pears, pears, nasty little pears."
"Bloody right you will!"
"You're bonkers!"
He narrows his eyes and then his effect of anger is lost as the corner of his mouth twitches up and his tongue darts out twice to ghost over his lower lip.
"Both bonkers," the consultant sighs to herself. Suddenly, wide sets of eyes from her party turn to her and she claps a hand to her mouth realizing what she has said.
Hermione loses it to laughter first and Barty not too many beats after. The consultant watches the whole lot laugh and shakes her head as she tries to keep herself from calling them crazy once more.
"Well then," she straightens her blouse and eyes the party, "the chocolate, french vanilla and this design?"
"Yes. That's perfect. Thank you very much for putting up with us," Hermione smiles wide, "We just left the local mental house, still acclimating to liberty."
The consultant smiles and shuffles her notes for the session away, standing and nodding once, "Well, you lot were the most exciting party I've had since I've been doing this. Good luck on your wedding, have a nice day."
The group goes through leaving formalities and Hermione burrows into Barty's side as his arm holds her to him, both leisurely moving toward the wedding boutique they had come to the day before to choose and get fitted into their ensembles. Now, the outfits were supposedly ready and they could try them on as a last dry run before tomorrow.
"Are we cutting things close with getting all this done now instead of a week ago?"
Barty tilts his head toward her, "No," he smirks, "I'm sure Fudge has been alerting anyone he could yell to that his liaison couple will be tying the knot tomorrow."
Hermione scowls and he chuckles, kissing her temple before moving away and holding the door open for everyone.
Hermione is tugged by Ginny, the redhead casting a warning look to the men as she and Tonks move Hermione toward the back of the store.
"Glaring just makes me a bit more tempted to peek!" Barty calls, Hermione answering him with a bright smile as her guards glare at him murderously. "I tell you," he shakes his head as he looks to Remus and Harry, "I daresay your ladies are more excited for the wedding than mine is, and she's the bride!"
Harry snorts, "Yeah," he shakes his head to contradict himself, "Hermione is so excited, I haven't seen her like this since the first self updating Encyclopedia of Spells and Potions was published. She was no where near so joyful for her wedding with Ron."
"They had a wedding planned?" Barty asks, trying to keep his green little monster at bay.
Remus steps in to clarify, "Well," he frowns, looking to the ceiling as he recalls, "more of a 'Ron had a wedding' bit, Hermione buried herself in work and perfecting her potions under Severus. It would have been a disaster, Ron had been allowed the free reign to dictate everything."
Harry remains quiet, not ready to speak civilly about his tenuous best friend. Barty sighs and Remus smirks at his unconscious antics, leading the two darker haired men to try on their tuxes.
I think this feels complete for a tied in one-shot. Also, I think the next piece will be the wedding. Thoughts? Requests? Let me know. Or don't...I'll end up writing either way, but having feedback is always a good crux to branch off of. Thanks for reading!