I. Today Was A Nightmare
This is going to be one of the days that I dreaded the most. Probably because I am marrying one of the blokes that I feared I would end up with in the future, or maybe because the fact that I am scared of the life I am going to recreate with the man I dreaded the most from the very start.
My name is Hermione Jean Granger. Also known as Draco Malfoy's Mudblood. Today's the day I could describe as melancholic. I am not depressed if that's what the staff is thinking. I'll celebrate my post-partum depression once everything's set and done, and when I am bound to Malfoy, I can party with Satan in hell.
The day started as I woke up at 9:31 a.m. A house-elf escorted me to the bathroom to get ready for the big day ahead of me. I lathered, scrubbed, and rinsed then had the house-elf to fetch me after I bathed. My hairstylist, Camille, had my hair dried up to have it ready for styling. I sat down in a chair in front of a vanity dresser with these light bulbs around it. It was so bright, I thought it would blind me permanently.
"Miss Hermione," she held the already steaming iron curler—a few feet away from my face. "What would you like to do with your hair? An elegant up-do or a crown of elegant curls?"
"Erm. . .I, I. . ." I stammered, in a brink of getting panicky. Camille's expression was smiling gently at me. I wonder if she wanted to blast the thing that she holds down on my throat. A loud crack made me jump. Did someone bust the lights?
"I'm in charge of her hair." Narcissa Malfoy, neé Black, came in. I guess she did Apparate from her suite to my room. Great.
"Hello, Narcissa." I greeted her. She took a seat next to me.
She smiled warmly at me. "Good morning, my dear. How are you feeling right now?" Her hand reached over to hold mine.
I laughed and rolled my eyes. "I can't tell. It's. . .I don't know. Mixed emotions maybe."
Now, it was her turn to laugh at me. "I can absolutely tell that we share the same kind of feeling. I felt rather emotional in my wedding to Lucius a decade ago. It was rather a forlorn moment for me. It's like you're having second thoughts if you wanted to get married or not."
Exactly.
Narcissa continued on recalling her memory. "But I managed to control my erratic manner. I tried to think of happy things, and it did help to calm me down."
Her startlingly pale blue eyes loomed at me. "Try and simmer down those unwanted emotions, Hermione. You'll be fine."
Camille cleared her throat loudly. We stared at her. She had both arms covered in front of her chest, apparently pissed for making her wait longer.
"Are we going to style her today, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Narcissa sighed. Exasperated. "I told you, dearie, I am going to handle it."
Camille raised her arms in defeat. "Fine. I am going to take the day off." And she Disapparated.
"Well," my future mother-in-law stood to her feet. "That only means I have a lot of work to do here."
I giggled. "Let's do it then."
With one flick of Narcissa's wand, the magic began. It's like having a Cinderella moment with fairy godmother. Brushes floated from the dresser, vanilla and honey perfume sprayed everywhere—it's madness.
I am having a ball on my own wedding day.
"Now, Hermione, close your eyes." I obediently followed Narcissa's command.
"I wonder what I will look like." I mused, smiling sheepishly.
"You'll be the envy of every girl, dear. I'll make sure of it that Draco will only have his eyes set on you. That'll make some boys jealous."
"Aw. That'll just earn me a reputation in the society."
"Don't you want that? You'll be the center of attention," Draco's mum cackled.
"Oh, well. I guess I'll have to admit, I am an attention seeker as well," I guiltily confessed, my cheeks flaming.
Our conversation lasted for a long while, filled with feminism, love, lust—Narcissa was being motherly towards me. I bet that a few years from now, we'll have each others backs like girlfriends do.
"You can open your eyes now." Narcissa's voice was so soothing, it could've sang me to sleep. But I have a wedding to be in, so sleep is not an option for me.
Effortlessly, I lifted my heavy lids. They were a bit rugged.
A woman who was breathtakingly beautiful looked fixedly at me. Curiosity filled her amber-hazel eyes—hell, we have the same eye color. Her face was a lovely shade of porcelain-white, tinged with a cute shade of pink. She was so gorgeous, it made my heart swell with agony. Draco would fall in love with her—not me. The woman raised a hand towards me as if to touch my face. I leaned back, and she back away too, knowing that her actions might frighten me.
"Who is she?" I asked Narcissa. I liked the messy bun on the woman's head.
She stifled back a laugh. "Why, Hermione, have you completely forgotten what you look like?"
Eh? So this woman is me?
"Hoist your knickers up, we have a wedding to attend to." And Narcissa yanked me by the arm and led me away to the wonder wall of my—oh well.
"OW!" I yelped as one of the ladies—they're helping me insert myself in one of these tight corsets—shoved the stiff undergarment over my head.
"A bit more delicate on the bride, ladies. We don't want her to look faint in the middle of the ceremony, right?"
I sucked a deep breath before the corset was crammed up in my breasts and waist. They had this rule before you could even wear a corset. They give you, like, twenty minutes of a breathing moment, then, you're good to go. But this isn't going swell for me.
"Deep breaths, Missy. You'll be fine after this."
"Narcissa! Could you give me a hand here?" Said one lady from behind me.
I could picture myself in my head that my lips were turning blue because of the difficulty in breathing. Probably there's a huge chance for me to die of suffocation in times like this. I remember wearing this way back when I was fifteen. My grandmother forced me to wear one in my cousin's wedding. It did fit me perfectly, so it's no biggie. But as the years pass, I am twenty-two now, I don't have the same-old-skinny-body that I had ages ago. I must have gained three or four pounds.
Anyway, as of now—it's ten thirty. Two more fucking hours before the grandest moment of my life. Puh-lease—Narcissa and the lady with her are tying the strings on my back. Fuck, can you do it much faster? I wailed in my head. We don't have much time.
"One more to go, and we get her dressed in her frock."
"Jesus, woman, can't you just hurry up?" Narcissa complained. So did I.
A tight push of the drawstring made me howl in pain. Is it done yet? Crap, I feel like getting cramped up in a small cell.
"There. We're all done, ladies. Now, let's wrap things up, shall we?" Future-mum-in-law smirked at everyone. The smirk that's equal to my future husband's insolent smile.
"Finally," I gasped out loud.
"Come now, dear. We should get you prepped up."
"Okay. But you'll have to be delicate with me this time," my fingers reached at the bottom of the corset, fingering the tiny lace details.
Two maidservants entered the room, a large square box in their lithely-looking arms. I take it that the thing inside of that is my wedding gown? Enough said, enough said. A wave of nervousness collided violently in the temples of my head. Stage fright, stage fright, it ranted all over my head. Yes, I am having a moment with my knotted thoughts. If I'll keep on tying the string to another string, I can predict a permanent brain damage will visit me in the future.
I get to open the box in which the maids have brought along with them. Dazed, I lifted the subtle-looking dress, can't peel my eyes off of it.
"Made from the most antique and expensive lace of all time. You, my darling, are the first one to wear such a gown which is—I'm not bragging, but it's the damned truth—only priceless and suitable for a woman like you." I half-gasped at the factoid from Narcissa's mouth.
"I'm not surprised."
"You should be. Not most of all witches in the Wizarding World can afford—" she made an air quote gesture with her fingers, "—and look glamorous in her wedding frock."
A smile crept its way on my frozen lips. I should be grateful.
My eyes glanced back at the dress. "I must be getting inside of this one now," I lifted the dress to everyone in the room."
"Are we all done now?"
"No, not yet, madam. We still need the veil."
"Careful with the hair!"
"Where are the shoes?"
"Oh my, look at the time!"
Those were just the words I've heard whilst I was resting my eyes. I listened closely to the clock nearby. I pictured some events happening inside the chapel. Harry and Ron looking pretty spiffy and dapper in their tuxedos, Luna and Ginny gushing around with their peony-colored dresses, Severus Snape and Draco were talking outside, and a lot of highly distinguished people arriving. God, I didn't know there were a whole lot of people from the Ministry coming to watch me get married to a pureblood named Draco Malfoy.
Perhaps I should plug some cotton buds in my ears. I didn't like it when people would make unnecessary comments about me, a Mudblood, betrothed to a much, much more higher blood status than me. It isn't the turn of a century for others since purebloods married or maybe even fell in love to half-bloods or even Muggle-borns for sure.
This isn't a fairytale. It's more of a traumatic event for me.
"Easy on the veil," someone spoke in an unfamiliar tone. There was a hint of German accent on it, except that her English is good which conceals that accent.
Feather-like fingers skillfully mended their way through the not-so-tight bun, and I was instinctively aware of the comb's teeth scraping a little in my scalp.
I flickered my eyes open.
"Oh good. We thought you were dozing off," Natalya—that was written on her name tag—tucked one stray lock from my face. She was unbelievably pretty, in a Russian way.
"I'm. . .I was just having a few moments to myself."
She gave me a dazzling smile. "I know what you mean. But you shouldn't think off backing out and runaway."
"I wasn't." I told her innocently.
"You're afraid, yes?"
Her question was unavoidable. "Yes." I admitted.
"Master Draco isn't that bad, you know. He is a pretty decent guy, a real gentleman—he's everything a girl could want, you know." Natalya reached over from behind me, and covered my face with a gauzy material.
"You work for the Malfoys?"
She smiled again. "No. I am only Madam Malfoy's beautician."
"Oh. So, how come you know Draco?" His name became an addiction to my tongue. I clearly didn't call him by his last name. Indirectly.
"We came to know each other when he was nine and I was only seventeen."
They were acquaintances? I'm not surprised. She continued to arrange the veil.
I was about to ask her something about Draco, but someone interrupted us. It was the wedding coordinator.
"Where's the bride?" she asked us, her bird-like face severe. I slowly raised a hand.
"Well, we'd better get going! The ceremony's about to start in approximately 30 minutes! Now get your lousy bum arse up, and we'll be off." Then, there was a slam of the door.
Natalya and I shared looks of appraisal, then laughed.
"Let me help." Natalya carried the rain of my gown, straightening the tulle underneath it.
"Can we just Apparate to the chapel?"
I heard her sigh. "Rules are rules, milady. We can't do anything you want even if it's your wedding day."
"But it is my wedding day. I thought I had the power to control everything on my wedding?" Yeah, where was my veto list?
Narcissa's beautician gave no reply, then made our way to the lobby outside. Camera's flickered everywhere when I came in their view. Mum-in-law was proudly grinning like a madman on the bottom of the staircase. I swear I thought I saw myself turning red like a tomato.
When I stepped down on the last step of the stairs, Narcissa led me away—along with the throng of guards that she'd hired for everyone's safety—and pushed me inside the white limousine that's been waiting for me. It's a good thing the windows were darkly tinted. So dark that you could mistake the sky outside as sundown, but it's only midday.
Narcissa sat on the front seat. Me and Natalya were holding hands in the back. I could feel my heart rising on my throat, constricting me, making it hard to breathe. Why do I feel like this? It's like I am preparing before my execution.
"Shh, calm down, Miss." Natalya whispered in my ear. Blame it on the coffee, I bluntly thought.
I gripped hard on Natalya's bony hand and hoped I didn't crush it. My teeth were chattering together inside my mouth. Looks like I am in the verge of breaking down.
I don't cry in weddings.