To Love and To Cherish
"Harry, you'll be fine," I consoled, with the obligation of a friend. I instinctively brushed off his shoulder and straightened his boutonniere with my gloved hands. White gloves for a wedding.
"Thanks Hermione, you're a Godsend," whispered Harry, taking a deep breath and sticking his hands into his black suit pants' pockets.
"It's my job," I replied, smiling at him. "And be careful what you say in here!" Harry returned my smile with the latter comment, looking slightly less nervous than he had previously. The light filtered through the window, illuminating his appearance. Today, his messy hair was somewhat under control. Harry looked strange in his suit; not inappropriate, but strange. His green tie picked up on his eyes, I was sure that was Ginny's doing. When they had decided on a Muggle wedding, Mrs. Weasley nearly fainted with abhoration, but then Ginny pointed out that only the ceremony was to be held at St. Andrew's, not the reception. She was slightly happier after that, but Mrs. Weasley refused to relinquish any of the planning to anyone other than herself on her only daughter's wedding.
"No it's not," sighed Harry, shaking his head and resting his hands on the wide stone window ledge. "You're too good, Hermione! You look after me like I was your own child! I have to grow up!"
"Oh Harry," I answered softly, walking over to him and hugging him. "You know that's not true. For Heaven's sake, you're more grown up than most of the people I know. All you need, Harry, is to get to the front of the church and get married. Now! Go!" I insisted, pushing him towards the door. He looked back, a reluctant grin forming. "Go." I repeated, motioning with my hands, revealing 4 months of baby hanging off me.
"Where's Aiden?" he asked gently, leaning in the doorway, watching me.
"He's with his grandparents," I responded as though it were a known fact. "I don't think small children need to be dragged around wedding ceremonies."
"You've got one with you," replied Harry, nodding at my abdomen.
"I couldn't leave that one at home! Don't be cheeky Harry," I added as he began to chuckle. "You've got to go get married!" Finally, Harry relented and left to find Ron, his best man.
I smiled at his retreating back, and unconsciously straightened the runner on a small oak table next to the deep window sill. They were so perfect together. Opposites in almost every way, but so much the same. If it wasn't for Ginny, Harry wouldn't have become the Seeker for England's Quidditch Team. It was over a year ago that they approached him with the offer, and he nearly turned it down just to please Ginny. She had made some comment earlier about not wanting to move around after she was married, hoping just to settle down and have children.
As my mind drifted across the blank spaces of time, the church bells rang at quarter to ten. I was jolted from my thoughts, and I ran (as well as I could, being four months pregnant) across the hall to the room Ginny was using as a dressing room.
Rapping quickly on the door, I opened it before a verbal allowance was uttered. I slumped back against the door, surveying the chaos before me. Ginny was standing upon a stool, her dress still having last minute additions zapped on by her mother. Ginny, in turn, was cursing each "improvement" to her originally simply design, causing bows, lace and beading to fly around the room, encasing the two in a sort of tornado of screaming and dressing bits.
"Oh, seriously," I groaned, pulling out my wand and muttering a freezing charm. The whirlwind of bows ceased, as did the arguing, and I stepped carefully over a swag of frozen material as I made my way to Ginny. With a simple flick of my wand, her dress was back to the way it began, but with a few simple accents. I added a complimentary train and a small crown of daisies instead of the gaudy tiara previously placed upon the current of fire that was her hair. Cautiously, I unfroze her, watching her reaction. She was prepared to hex me, but stopped when she realized that the dress had been altered.
"Oh Hermione, it's lovely," she said finally, breathing out with relief as she brushed down the long princess skirt of her strapless dress. I looked at her, my eyes slightly damp, and smiled. It seemed such a short time since I was married; five years, in fact. And in another five months we'd have two children to show for it. Aiden looked so much like his father, it was uncanny.
"I'm glad you like it. But what jewelry are you going to put on?" I asked, taking in her shining figure, radiant hair and rosy, excited glow.
Ginny shook her head slowly, looking down at her hands. "I'm not wearing any. That was one of the main quarrels between me and mum. She wants this to be perfect as I'm her only girl. But she doesn't want what I want."
"Of course I do dear," answered Mrs. Weasley. I turned around, startled, but not surprised. The charm had worn off, and Ginny's mother was wiping her own eyes. "You're so lovely Ginny; I'm sorry for being overbearing," Mrs. Weasley sniffed, holding her hands together and smiling, the corners of her eyes crinkling in happiness and yet brimming with loneliness.
"Oh Mum," whispered Ginny, her voice thick and caught in her throat as she stepped off the stool and embraced her mother. I backed away with the intent of leaving them alone, but I was stopped prematurely.
"Don't go, Hermione," said Ginny softly, pulling away from her mother to face me. She stepped closer, her long, wavy hair falling perfectly around her face, the daisy crown perched upon her head as though it had been there eternally, and held out her arms. I hugged her gladly, my eyes delighted as we parted. "You would have been my maid of honor, you know," she remarked thoughtfully, looking me over, her eyes pausing on my abdomen. "But I knew as soon as you announced your pregnancy that you wouldn't want to be up at the front of the church in that state." Displaying a look of relief, I replied,
"I wondered why you didn't have any bridesmaids. You could have had someone other than me, you know."
Ginny shook her head. "No, we couldn't have. Harry and I both agreed you were the only one." I nodded at her, and retreated once again.
"Really, Ginny, I have to go. You and your mum need to talk for a few minutes. I'll be at the front. I've got to go make sure Harry and Ron are at the front of the church, with the proper flowers."
"Oh! My bouquet!" cried Ginny, jumping up from the chair in which she had seated herself, and racing over to the counter to unwrap a round sphere of riotous colour. She grinned sheepishly at Mrs. Weasley and myself, saying, "I was worried they'd wilt."
I smiled at her and headed towards the main body of the church, leaving them alone to talk. At the end of the aisle, four ushers stood ready to seat people, and as one offered me their arm I politely declined for the moment and inquired about the bridegroom and best man.
"They'll be here in a moment," answered the tallest of them.
"Will one of you please tell the bride that her presence will be required in several minutes," I stated more so than asked. "Tell her Mrs. Malfoy sent word." An usher who had bright blue eyes nodded and hurried off down the corridor to find Ginny.
"Would you like me to walk you to your seat, Mrs. Malfoy?" inquired the tallest, courteously holding his arm out for me. I nodded at him and placed my arm around his as he led me up the aisle to the music hanging in the air. Draco and I were to be seated at the very front, on the left hand side, with the groom's guests. When we had traversed the length of the carpet, my escort bowed politely and I sat next to my husband.
"Why hello there," murmured Draco, sliding an arm around my waist as I sat next to him. "I haven't seen you all day. Where'd you send Aiden off to?" I looked over at him, his intense grey-blue eyes focused entirely on me.
"I didn't send Aiden off anywhere," I retorted, matching his focus in a staring contest. "He's with his grandparents. I'm going to pick him up when they go for pictures. Then we're going to the reception. I don't think that small children need to be at wedding ceremonies. Especially when they're as rambunctious as he is."
"You know, he really isn't small anymore," answered Draco, adjusting the jacket of his dark grey suit while loosening the black tie.
I changed the subject. "You look very smart today."
"Don't I always?"
"You know what I mean. That blue shirt looks excellent on you."
"As if you don't look the same?"
"Not exactly. I'm four months pregnant, Draco, and if this child is anything as big as Aiden was, I'm going to be the size of a house come August."
"That will be in August, and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, you're hardly showing. And you do look spectacular today." I grinned in spite of myself, unconsciously smoothing the skirt of my '50's style dress. It was dark blue, with pale red polka dots on portions of the skirt and bits of the sleeves and body. I had searched forever and finally located the perfect pair of matching red sandals and an understated white clutch. And Ginny had insisted that I style my hair accordingly, and so it was curled and falling gracefully down my back with a wide-brimmed white sun hat, tied under the left side of my chin.
"Thank you," I answered softly, squeezing his hand. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile at me; my heartbeat quickened and my mouth went dry. It wasn't fair! He'd been able to make me nervous and excited and giddy every time he looked at me since our first date. Just then, a chord was struck on the piano at the front of the church, and everyone rose accordingly, Draco assisting me up.
"I can still get up, you know," I hissed at him from my glued smile.
"Just in case," he replied through his look of aristocratic grace, adjusting his tie once again and lacing one of his hands through mine. I could see Ginny and Mr. Weasley at the back of the church; she looked absolutely petrified. Not of Harry, I knew, but of announcing everything to this tremendous congregation. Seeing as it was Harry Potter's wedding, delegates from every wizarding country had sent representatives with the most elaborate gifts possible. There was a huge throng of fellow ex- students of Hogwarts, by invitation only, and all of them had brought spouses and children. I shook my head as several crying children were rushed to the back of the church, down the side aisles, in order to avoid mournful stares by the minister.
To top it off, all of Harry's entire Quidditch team had been invited, adding a huge initiative to all pesky photographers and reporters for magical tabloids. Out of mutual respect (what most assumed was a truce), Harry and Ginny had invited a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer. It would be best, they decided, if they chose one media outlet. After all, Harry had a history of bad relations with the Daily Prophet.
"Harry, you'll be fine," I consoled, with the obligation of a friend. I instinctively brushed off his shoulder and straightened his boutonniere with my gloved hands. White gloves for a wedding.
"Thanks Hermione, you're a Godsend," whispered Harry, taking a deep breath and sticking his hands into his black suit pants' pockets.
"It's my job," I replied, smiling at him. "And be careful what you say in here!" Harry returned my smile with the latter comment, looking slightly less nervous than he had previously. The light filtered through the window, illuminating his appearance. Today, his messy hair was somewhat under control. Harry looked strange in his suit; not inappropriate, but strange. His green tie picked up on his eyes, I was sure that was Ginny's doing. When they had decided on a Muggle wedding, Mrs. Weasley nearly fainted with abhoration, but then Ginny pointed out that only the ceremony was to be held at St. Andrew's, not the reception. She was slightly happier after that, but Mrs. Weasley refused to relinquish any of the planning to anyone other than herself on her only daughter's wedding.
"No it's not," sighed Harry, shaking his head and resting his hands on the wide stone window ledge. "You're too good, Hermione! You look after me like I was your own child! I have to grow up!"
"Oh Harry," I answered softly, walking over to him and hugging him. "You know that's not true. For Heaven's sake, you're more grown up than most of the people I know. All you need, Harry, is to get to the front of the church and get married. Now! Go!" I insisted, pushing him towards the door. He looked back, a reluctant grin forming. "Go." I repeated, motioning with my hands, revealing 4 months of baby hanging off me.
"Where's Aiden?" he asked gently, leaning in the doorway, watching me.
"He's with his grandparents," I responded as though it were a known fact. "I don't think small children need to be dragged around wedding ceremonies."
"You've got one with you," replied Harry, nodding at my abdomen.
"I couldn't leave that one at home! Don't be cheeky Harry," I added as he began to chuckle. "You've got to go get married!" Finally, Harry relented and left to find Ron, his best man.
I smiled at his retreating back, and unconsciously straightened the runner on a small oak table next to the deep window sill. They were so perfect together. Opposites in almost every way, but so much the same. If it wasn't for Ginny, Harry wouldn't have become the Seeker for England's Quidditch Team. It was over a year ago that they approached him with the offer, and he nearly turned it down just to please Ginny. She had made some comment earlier about not wanting to move around after she was married, hoping just to settle down and have children.
As my mind drifted across the blank spaces of time, the church bells rang at quarter to ten. I was jolted from my thoughts, and I ran (as well as I could, being four months pregnant) across the hall to the room Ginny was using as a dressing room.
Rapping quickly on the door, I opened it before a verbal allowance was uttered. I slumped back against the door, surveying the chaos before me. Ginny was standing upon a stool, her dress still having last minute additions zapped on by her mother. Ginny, in turn, was cursing each "improvement" to her originally simply design, causing bows, lace and beading to fly around the room, encasing the two in a sort of tornado of screaming and dressing bits.
"Oh, seriously," I groaned, pulling out my wand and muttering a freezing charm. The whirlwind of bows ceased, as did the arguing, and I stepped carefully over a swag of frozen material as I made my way to Ginny. With a simple flick of my wand, her dress was back to the way it began, but with a few simple accents. I added a complimentary train and a small crown of daisies instead of the gaudy tiara previously placed upon the current of fire that was her hair. Cautiously, I unfroze her, watching her reaction. She was prepared to hex me, but stopped when she realized that the dress had been altered.
"Oh Hermione, it's lovely," she said finally, breathing out with relief as she brushed down the long princess skirt of her strapless dress. I looked at her, my eyes slightly damp, and smiled. It seemed such a short time since I was married; five years, in fact. And in another five months we'd have two children to show for it. Aiden looked so much like his father, it was uncanny.
"I'm glad you like it. But what jewelry are you going to put on?" I asked, taking in her shining figure, radiant hair and rosy, excited glow.
Ginny shook her head slowly, looking down at her hands. "I'm not wearing any. That was one of the main quarrels between me and mum. She wants this to be perfect as I'm her only girl. But she doesn't want what I want."
"Of course I do dear," answered Mrs. Weasley. I turned around, startled, but not surprised. The charm had worn off, and Ginny's mother was wiping her own eyes. "You're so lovely Ginny; I'm sorry for being overbearing," Mrs. Weasley sniffed, holding her hands together and smiling, the corners of her eyes crinkling in happiness and yet brimming with loneliness.
"Oh Mum," whispered Ginny, her voice thick and caught in her throat as she stepped off the stool and embraced her mother. I backed away with the intent of leaving them alone, but I was stopped prematurely.
"Don't go, Hermione," said Ginny softly, pulling away from her mother to face me. She stepped closer, her long, wavy hair falling perfectly around her face, the daisy crown perched upon her head as though it had been there eternally, and held out her arms. I hugged her gladly, my eyes delighted as we parted. "You would have been my maid of honor, you know," she remarked thoughtfully, looking me over, her eyes pausing on my abdomen. "But I knew as soon as you announced your pregnancy that you wouldn't want to be up at the front of the church in that state." Displaying a look of relief, I replied,
"I wondered why you didn't have any bridesmaids. You could have had someone other than me, you know."
Ginny shook her head. "No, we couldn't have. Harry and I both agreed you were the only one." I nodded at her, and retreated once again.
"Really, Ginny, I have to go. You and your mum need to talk for a few minutes. I'll be at the front. I've got to go make sure Harry and Ron are at the front of the church, with the proper flowers."
"Oh! My bouquet!" cried Ginny, jumping up from the chair in which she had seated herself, and racing over to the counter to unwrap a round sphere of riotous colour. She grinned sheepishly at Mrs. Weasley and myself, saying, "I was worried they'd wilt."
I smiled at her and headed towards the main body of the church, leaving them alone to talk. At the end of the aisle, four ushers stood ready to seat people, and as one offered me their arm I politely declined for the moment and inquired about the bridegroom and best man.
"They'll be here in a moment," answered the tallest of them.
"Will one of you please tell the bride that her presence will be required in several minutes," I stated more so than asked. "Tell her Mrs. Malfoy sent word." An usher who had bright blue eyes nodded and hurried off down the corridor to find Ginny.
"Would you like me to walk you to your seat, Mrs. Malfoy?" inquired the tallest, courteously holding his arm out for me. I nodded at him and placed my arm around his as he led me up the aisle to the music hanging in the air. Draco and I were to be seated at the very front, on the left hand side, with the groom's guests. When we had traversed the length of the carpet, my escort bowed politely and I sat next to my husband.
"Why hello there," murmured Draco, sliding an arm around my waist as I sat next to him. "I haven't seen you all day. Where'd you send Aiden off to?" I looked over at him, his intense grey-blue eyes focused entirely on me.
"I didn't send Aiden off anywhere," I retorted, matching his focus in a staring contest. "He's with his grandparents. I'm going to pick him up when they go for pictures. Then we're going to the reception. I don't think that small children need to be at wedding ceremonies. Especially when they're as rambunctious as he is."
"You know, he really isn't small anymore," answered Draco, adjusting the jacket of his dark grey suit while loosening the black tie.
I changed the subject. "You look very smart today."
"Don't I always?"
"You know what I mean. That blue shirt looks excellent on you."
"As if you don't look the same?"
"Not exactly. I'm four months pregnant, Draco, and if this child is anything as big as Aiden was, I'm going to be the size of a house come August."
"That will be in August, and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, you're hardly showing. And you do look spectacular today." I grinned in spite of myself, unconsciously smoothing the skirt of my '50's style dress. It was dark blue, with pale red polka dots on portions of the skirt and bits of the sleeves and body. I had searched forever and finally located the perfect pair of matching red sandals and an understated white clutch. And Ginny had insisted that I style my hair accordingly, and so it was curled and falling gracefully down my back with a wide-brimmed white sun hat, tied under the left side of my chin.
"Thank you," I answered softly, squeezing his hand. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile at me; my heartbeat quickened and my mouth went dry. It wasn't fair! He'd been able to make me nervous and excited and giddy every time he looked at me since our first date. Just then, a chord was struck on the piano at the front of the church, and everyone rose accordingly, Draco assisting me up.
"I can still get up, you know," I hissed at him from my glued smile.
"Just in case," he replied through his look of aristocratic grace, adjusting his tie once again and lacing one of his hands through mine. I could see Ginny and Mr. Weasley at the back of the church; she looked absolutely petrified. Not of Harry, I knew, but of announcing everything to this tremendous congregation. Seeing as it was Harry Potter's wedding, delegates from every wizarding country had sent representatives with the most elaborate gifts possible. There was a huge throng of fellow ex- students of Hogwarts, by invitation only, and all of them had brought spouses and children. I shook my head as several crying children were rushed to the back of the church, down the side aisles, in order to avoid mournful stares by the minister.
To top it off, all of Harry's entire Quidditch team had been invited, adding a huge initiative to all pesky photographers and reporters for magical tabloids. Out of mutual respect (what most assumed was a truce), Harry and Ginny had invited a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer. It would be best, they decided, if they chose one media outlet. After all, Harry had a history of bad relations with the Daily Prophet.