Married.

StoryGirl.


Never ever fall in love with somebody you despise. This would have been nice to know, Pansy reflected, smiling as she watched the snow fall. Somebody could have told her not to fall in love with Ron Weasley, twisted her arm, held her back, done something! But nobody had, and for that she was glad.

They said that people rarely found their soul mate, and if they did, it was at the end of their life. But she, one in a million, had found hers, in the solid form of one Ronald Weasley, the boy she had teased and laughed at during her schooling. This man was the one man she had never even spared a thought to think about falling in love with, and now, here she was, getting marred to him, joining their hearts for eternally.

Sighing, she tucked her hair behind her ears, blinking as the lone candle flickered in the corner. What if Ron didn't want to marry her? Everyone had cold feet, but what if his doubts and worries were too much, and he left her standing at the altar alone? Merlin, she couldn't take this anymore, this sickening feeling in her gut, telling her that yes, something was going to go wrong, and she would be the one to come out worse off from it.

Their relationship had been kept a secret for so long, Pansy found it awkward to go out in public with Ron, to be actually seen by other people, their hands clasped, and adoring smiles on their faces. It was weird, but she would adjust, and get used to it. She had to. From this day on, she would be Mrs. Pansy Weasley, never being able to hide behind her Pureblooded surname Parkinson anymore. From this day on, she would be married, and be married with her whole heart and soul to the one man she would always love.

There was a sharp knock on the door, causing her to jump in her seat, her head narrowly missing the shelf. "Yes?" She asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"It's me. Can I come in?"

"Please do."

She beamed as Hermione opened the door, already dressed in her simple pale blue dress robes. "Draco finally stumbled into bed at one last night," She told Pansy as she dragged a comb through her wavy locks. Pansy smiled.

"Sorry about that," She said.

Hermione laughed. "No need to apologize, Pansy! Draco's the one who wanted this whole buck's night, remember. It's his fault for drinking so much, not yours, and definitely not Ron's."

'Have you seen him?" Pansy asked, staring at herself in the mirror, a finger running over her nose, her cheeks, and her lips.

"Yes."

"How does he seem?"

Hermione smiled. "Nervous. Hung-over. But happy. A smile on his face. Content."

Pansy sighed. "Good."

Hermione finished combing Pansy's hair, and then helped her get dressed in her wedding dress, lacing up the back softly. After a few minutes, Ginny rushed in, half-dressed, a clip holding up the majority of her hair. "Your mum's here," She gasped out, collapsing in Pansy's vacant seat.

"Hullo to you too," Hermione said, handing Pansy her heels.

"Hello then, Miss Grumpy. Pans, you look beautiful! Anyways, what's wrong Hermione? Was Draco too late, or something, and woke you up, or was Marianne screaming for her father again?"

"Something like that," Hermione grumbled, Pansy only just noticing the carefully concealed bags underneath her friend's eyes. At six months old, Marianne was already quite the tyrant of the nursery, and refused to sleep, screaming instead, if her Father was not the one to sing her a bedtime lullaby.

Pansy laughed. "I would have gladly taken her last night Hermione, if you had asked."

Ginny scowled at her. "No, you wouldn't have! You needed your beauty sleep, Pansy!"

"Well, that's clearly didn't happen," She muttered, face in her hands. Hermione's ran a soothing hand up and down her back, careful not to dirty the dress. As soon as the sun rose, she would be fining herself standing in the garden she had grown up in, being binding to her soul mate.

Then she would feel content. That was the one moment in her entire life she would be whole fully happy. The one moment she knew nothing could ever separate them, then she would be blissful.

At that precise moment, the sun started to rise, a weak ray of light filtering through the window, blowing the candle out. Pansy laughed, allow herself to be leaded around the room by Hermione, helplessly allowing Ginny to apply her makeup, Hermione pulling her hair up in an up-do, threading silver beads through it. She closed her eyes softly, leaning back into the chair, hands folded in her lap.

In less than an hour, she would be married. And she would be happy.