Players And Pawns

Chapter One

(December 21, 2001)

"Dearly Beloved. We are gathered here today, to join this man, and this woman, in holy matrimony..."

With an irritated gleam in his emerald eyes, Harry Potter clenched his fists, his jaw tightened. He knew why they were there. He didn't need, nor want to be reminded. In fact, he didn't want to be there at all. The priest's words faded into the background as he took in the spectacle that surrounded him. Hundreds had shown up, mostly family, many friends, a few of their old Hogwarts teachers, and even some media. He wasn't surprised; he hadn't expected anything less, not from a Malfoy.

The great hall of the Malfoy Mansion had been decorated to perfection, with a little help from a wand or two. With all the magic that would be happening that night, only the most trusted of Hermione's Muggle family and friends had been invited. Even so, Harry was sure they would be subjected to a light memory charm, just to be safe. The hall was enchanted to resemble the beautiful landscape outside, minus the chilly weather. The ceiling reflected the velvety deep blue sky, blanketed with clouds, providing a slow drizzle of snowflakes that disappeared just inches away from the guests and wedding party. The walls were lined with snow-covered trees, whose branches held candles in various spots. The same candles lined the aisle the bride had walked down, the pristine snow now stained with deep red rose petals. The same scarlet roses were a vital part of many of the floral arrangements in the hall, as well as the bouquet the bride now held at the front of the hall.

He had never seen her look as beautiful as she did now. She was not the same eleven-year-old know-it-all he'd met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. Her signature bushy chestnut hair had gradually calmed into sleek waves through the years. They had had been pulled up and away from her lightly made up face, a few cascading from the crown of curls fixed atop her head. Although she was still the shortest of the three of them, she had gotten a little taller, the years matured her face and form, which was now draped in a dress of satin that was a white so pure, it was almost hard to look at. An intricate design made of silver thread decorated the bodice and went down the back of her skirt, beaded with small rubies and diamonds, which were echoed in her jewelry. She was completely breathtaking. Yet, the most beautiful thing to him was her smile. It was crooked but it was the essence of who she was. She smiled from her soul; it was so genuine that it reached her eyes; the warm, sparkling eyes that helped him through so much of his adolescence, and now, that smile, was directed at another. It was directed at Draco Malfoy and that thought made him sick to his stomach. But then again, he never did have a good feeling about this...

*** FLASHBACK ***

David and Emily Granger

And

Narcissa Malfoy

Invite You To Share Their Joy At The Marriage Ceremony

Uniting Their Children

Hermione Granger

&

Draco Malfoy

The Magical Event Will Take Place On

Friday, The Twenty-First of December

Two Thousand And One

"What in the bloody hell is this?" Ron was the first to speak, holding the invitation with two fingers as if it had the plague. "Some kind of joke?" Hermione paled and looked down at her shoes. Harry stood as if he'd been petrified; praying she would tell him it was a joke, a sick, sick joke.

"It's my wedding invitation." Her eyes stayed fixed on her shoes as if they were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. "My parents were going to mail them to you, but seeing as how we see each other for lunch every week, I told them I would give them to you myself. Besides, you two are my best friends and it wouldn't do for you to get them by owl or in the mail. I mean, I didn't even think they were necessary, it's not as if I couldn't have just told the two of you. It's a formality really, the proper thing to do. I'm not even sure that I like them but my Mum said they would coordinate with the rest of the wedding." She babbled, speaking so fast that it sounded like one word.

"Wedding..." Harry whispered under his breath, re-reading his invitation. A picture of Hermione and Draco Malfoy alternated between waving at him and staring at each other lovingly. He closed the invitation roughly; he didn't need to see that.

"To Malfoy! You're going to marry that wanker Malfoy?" Ron's face was becoming as red as his hair, his temper flaring up.

"Married... To Malfoy." Harry was still quietly speaking to himself, almost completely unaware of Ron waiving the offending papers in front of Hermione, who was currently fighting back tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Ron..." She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I know you and Draco don't get along, but..."

"Don't get along? Don't get along! There couldn't be a bigger understatement. That ass made it one of his personal goals to make my," he paused to correct himself, "our lives hell at Hogwarts. It would do you well to remember he wasn't always spouting sonnets at you. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I can remember him calling you a..."

"Ron!" Harry managed to find his voice before his friend crossed that line. No one needed to be reminded of that.

"We're not in Hogwarts anymore, Ron. Things aren't the same as they were back then. We're not the same kids we were then, you can't expect Draco to be."

"Draco! Draco, is it?"

"'Mione, what I think Ron is trying to say is..."

"I know what I'm trying to say Harry!" Ron snapped. "But since you think she needs some clarification, I'll give it to her." He turned back to Hermione and took a deep breath. "Look, when you wanted us to give Malfoy a chance, I humored you. When you wanted to date Malfoy, I didn't like it, but I dealt it. I put up with him thinking it was just a passing fancy, the bad boy appeal. I thought you were too smart to be fooled by him. But I was apparently wrong. I've had to help pick up the pieces he tore you into too many times, and I'm not going to watch you willingly subject yourself to the pain. I don't like or accept the idea of you marrying him and I won't be there to watch it." With one swift movement, Ron ripped his invitation in half, and turning on his heel, he let the two pieces drift to the floor in front of his two best friends.

The tears that had been waiting in the wings of Hermione's eyes had finally fallen, and now trailed down her rosy cheeks in two streams. For a moment, she seemed to have returned to being a little girl. Instinct drew Harry to her, holding her firmly in his arms as she shook, tears racking her frame. He was torn in two. Like Ron, he wanted nothing more than to tell her she was wrong in her decision, that Malfoy was Malfoy, no matter what had changed in the world around them or how many years had passed. That this wedding was a mistake he didn't want to have to witness, that the thought of it made him ill. But, there she was, in his arms, weeping into his neck, and he couldn't bear to cause her more pain by deserting her.

He led her into the Three Broomsticks Pub, where they had planned to have lunch. He waved to Madame Rosmerta, the woman who had been serving them since their first visit their third year. She nodded her acknowledgement as he brought Hermione to a small booth in the corner of the pub. Two cool mugs of butterbeer were soon in front of them. Hermione slowly got a hold of herself, looking up at Harry with wet eyes. Time had changed him very little, despite all the hardships they had experienced growing up. Seven years of fighting the most powerful evil the Wizarding world has known takes a lot out of a person, but he was no worse for the wear. Now twenty-one years old, Harry looked very much the same. He had grown into his lanky frame, standing well over six feet with a sturdy build. His face had matured, his features more defined, but two things remained the same; the tell-tale scar on his forehead, partially hidden by his shaggy ebony hair, and his expressive forest green eyes, shielded by glasses, refusing to wear the contacts he had, stating the thought of touching his eye was just too gross. Yet he had no problem stabbing a basilisk through the head. She'd never understand boys. At least he had changed the frames.

"Knut for your thoughts," Harry offered, knowing the wheels in her head were turning full speed. She looked into her butterbeer quickly, hoping she hadn't been too obvious in her staring.

"It's just..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "It's just, I don't see why Ron has had such a fit about all of this. You have both known Draco and I have been dating. It hasn't been a secret. It's been over three years in fact. It's only natural we take the next step."

"Step? You call this a step? You are twenty years old and you are handing out wedding invitations." Harry's voice came out louder than he had intended. Spotting the heads that turned, he brought his voice down a few notches. "This is not a 'step'," he hissed. "This is marriage, as in the rest of your life. Life with Malfoy!"

"Draco!" Hermione snapped, her cheeks beginning to redden with aggravation.

"Draco, then," Harry corrected himself. "Besides, there's usually a step before marriage. A little something called an engagement." Hermione was silent but fuming as her friend scolded her. "Did it ever dawn on you that it would have been nice to give Ron and I a better warning than your wedding invitation? It's like telling us you're having a baby during its first birthday party." He could almost see the steam coming out of her ears, so he tried his best to save a little face. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Ron is angry, I'm sorry I'm yelling, and I'm sorry we've disappointed you by not immediately running out to buy you a toaster or some equally lame gift but this has caught us off guard, and the idea of you getting married is a bit much for us to take in right now! Especially considering the groom isn't exactly our pick for Wizard of the Year!" His heart got the best of him, and his apology didn't come off as well as it should have.

"Look!" She stood up, hands flat on the table, staring directly at Harry, fire in her eyes. "Despite what you may think, I didn't come here to ask for your approval. I don't want or need it. Hell, I didn't come here in the hopes that you'd all welcome Draco into the group, but what I did expect was my two best friends to be happy for me. I'm sorry if that was too much to expect from the two of you, but the fact of the matter is, I am marrying Draco with or without you two, because, contrary to your belief, my life isn't based around the two of you." Her face was now a deep crimson; she sat down hard in her seat and took a large gulp of her butterbeer. Harry sat back, a little shocked at her outburst. He'd never seen her so angry, not with him anyhow. They sat quietly listening to the movements around them, trying to ignore the inquisitive stares directed their way.

"I didn't mean to snap, it's just..."

"I know." More quiet sipping. As time passed, the red of Hermione's face softened.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"I don't know... I tried to, really I did. I felt horrible not telling the two of you. I mean, it was one of the happiest days I've experienced and I couldn't share it with the two people who meant the most to me. I wanted to, I just...couldn't." She gave a deep sigh, not knowing how to explain it. She reached into the bag she had draped over her shoulder. After some searching, she took out a small black velvet bag, emptying its contents into her hand, which she then held out to Harry. In her palm rested what he assumed to be her engagement ring. The sight of it placed a lump in his throat. Somehow, seeing it made it all real.

"How long?" he croaked, his throat much drier than expected. He took in the last drops of his butterbeer, which didn't help as he hoped.

"A little over six months," she said quietly, fiddling with the ring, twisting it around her finger, over and over again, the light occasionally caught the stone, causing a sharp sparkle to hit Harry in the eye. She couldn't stand the silence, it was deafening. "What are you thinking?"

Harry looked up at his friend. Her face was still a little pink from the argument, her lashes stuck together by the moisture from her tears, but through it all, she seemed happy, finally being able to tell them had taken a big load off of her shoulders. As unbelievable as it seemed, Malfoy made her happy.

"I'm not that damn thing," He replied, breaking their gaze to look at the ring one last time. He gave her a weak smile. "I'm just basking in the knowledge that things will never be the same again."

*** END FLASHBACK ***

They hadn't been the same. Their weekly lunches had stopped. On the off chance that they ended up in the same place, there was little to no communication between Ron and Hermione. They were both too stubborn. In the end, Ron was true to his word. He hadn't shown up, although, not completely cruel, he had sent her a gift with Pigwidgeon.

So Harry sat alone, watching Hermione give her life to the man who was once their sworn enemy. Although he was there, he couldn't believe it was happening, it was as surreal as any nightmare. He hated Malfoy, but more importantly, Malfoy didn't deserve her. He should have told her what he really felt when they were in Hogsmeade. Maybe then, this wouldn't be happening. But instead, he sat there watching, allowing it to happen, when what he really wanted to do was...

"YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM!"