The wedding will be next chapter! Yeah! So, I've spent some time in the Harry Potter archive but haven't found any good Dramione stories that are AUs. Any recommendations? Plus, the Harry Potter fandom is pretty welcoming. I'm glad to be part of it. :) Oh, and the cover art is by kaunelly on Deviantart, who was kind enough to let me use it. Go check out the rest of their art, it's beautiful!
The ballroom of the Granger household was decorated and ready for the party. Hermione had seen a glimpse of it before she was whisked upstairs to get ready for a ball she did not want to attend.
"Please hold still, Princess," the maid around Hermione's age said kindly. Hermione winced as the maid tightened the corset strings painfully. "There. Your dress next."
The maid slid the dress over Hermione's head, and fastened the pearly buttons up the back carefully. Next the maid ran an ivory brush through Hermione's drying, tangled locks. Hermione wished she could do it herself, but knew that this was the maid's job.
"What's your name?" Hermione asked the maid randomly as the maid began to lift Hermione's hair strands into an elaborate updo.
"My name?" the maid was obviously perplexed.
"Your name," Hermione repeated, smiling. The maid's hands hovered over Hermione's scalp before continuing hesitantly.
"My name is Ginevra," the maid said, seemingly flustered, her freckles standing out in contrast with the blush that sprouted. "I usually go by Ginny."
"Ginny," Hermione repeated the name. "It's a lovely nickname."
"Thank you, Princess," Ginny beamed at the compliment, before stepping away from Hermione's finished hairdo to let the young woman glimpse a look of herself in the mirror.
Stepping slowly to the framed mirror on the vanity, Hermione would've sworn the girl that gaped back was not herself. Her bushy curls were tamed into a half up, half down elegant hairstyle. The strapless, light pink dress that was snug and the waist and puffed around in many waves around her legs looked so uncharacteristic but fitting.
"You look beautiful," Ginny murmured into Hermione's ear, seeing that the princess was hesitant to smile at her reflection. The reassurance was all it took. Hermione smiled, blushing at the compliment.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I ought to be going, mother will fret."
"Your escort into the ballroom should be here soon," Ginny said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"...Escort?"
"Well, of course, it's not proper for the princess to arrive without an escort to the ballroom," Ginny explained. Peeking outside of the door, she smiled. "Oh, there he comes now!" Hermione expected her father or a relative to come bring her in. The last thing she expected was Draco Malfoy with his signature smirk looking back towards her.
"There's been a mistake," Hermione stated coldly, letting her eyes drift to Draco's perfectly handsome profile and frowning. "He cannot be my escort."
"Queen Monica picked me out herself," Draco said, the smile never leaving his lips. "But don't get too excited- I'm just going to go in with you. This doesn't mean I'm giving you the time of day, Granger."
"I would never see the day when you become a gentleman, Malfoy," Hermione sniffed indignantly. "So don't assume it's a pleasure to be in your company either."
"Listen, Granger, I can drag this out all evening, but I'd much rather get back to the party and leave you in the company of those Gryffindor idiots," Draco did a ridiculous head movement that sent his pale blond hair flopping over his forehead. Hermione inhaled sharply and reluctantly took Draco's arm.
"Goodbye Ginny," Hermione said. "You won't be attending the ball?" Ginny had begun to gather Hermione's clothing off of the floor at the point, and straightened up to answer.
"I'm afraid I can't," Ginny said apologetically. "I'm just a maid."
"That is ridiculous, and-" Before Hermione could say anything else, Draco whisked her away into the hallway and towards the ballroom.
"Associating with the help," Draco's lip curled unpleasantly. "What would you expect from a Mudblood princess."
"Mudblood!" Hermione exclaimed angrily. The term was an offensive word meant to describe a person on the throne who does not have royalty in their blood. "Ginny is a maid of mine, yes, but it doesn't make her any less than me."
"Then she should've gone as your escort," Draco said curtly, as a butler opened the ballroom doors to show them into the party.
"You foul git," Hermione hissed, but Draco only smirked as the two of them glided elegantly into the room.
"Princess Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, and Prince Draco Malfoy of Slytherin," a stout man at the door announced their arrival. Once inside, Hermione let go of Draco's arm and stepped away from him.
"Your dirtiness will rub off on me if I spend another second in your presence," Draco said snottily.
"Likewise, Malfoy," Hermione said, stalking away as fast as her high-heeled shoes could carry her. She paid a stop by the table laden with delectables, taking an appetizer carefully.
"There she is!" a sudden voice chimed, and Hermione nearly choked on her food as her mother and an old man- Dumbledore himself- came to greet her.
"Hermione Granger," Dumbledore took her hand suddenly, and kissed it. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Uh- yes," Hermione stammered, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir..."
"The queen has been telling me all about you," Dumbledore continued. "A pleasant match for Harry. Of course, he's a darling boy. His parents passed away when he was nothing but a boy- and his aunt and uncle took him in. They weren't treating him at all well- so I took in and adopted the boy, in a way." Dumbledore chuckled, finding the situation funny. "Imagine! I've only got myself a son at my age and he's going to get married!"
Hermione knew about Harry being adopted. Since he wasn't related to Dumbledore, people were making snide remarks about how Harry was "The Chosen one" chosen to live out Dumbledore's legacy.
"Harry sounds delightful, sir," Hermione said, truthfully not even knowing anymore about him then what she already knew.
"I'll get him. Harry!" Dumbledore moved away, and Monica faced her daughter excitedly.
"Come, wipe that off your mouth-" she fussed over Hermione's appearance for a few seconds. "It's not every day your daughter meets the man she's going to marry!"
"I'm fine, mother, please," Hermione groaned. Dumbledore reappeared, with a young man around Hermione's age. He was around her height, with dark hair and odd glasses, and a sorry smile on his face.
"This is Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Harry, this is Queen Monica."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Harry said respectfully, and took the queen's hand in his own.
"And this is Hermione," Dumbledore said. "The princess, and your future wife." Hermione winced at the words. Was she really expected to marry this man? Once she had never met before? Harry took Hermione's hand in his own, startling the girl, and kissed it, much like Dumbledore had done.
"Pleasure," he simply stated, releasing his grip on her fingers.
"Or-er-" Hermione said, at a loss for words. "You too," she finished lamely.
"We ought to leave them alone," Dumbledore smiled fondly at them both. He bent by Harry's ear and whispered something before leaving with Monica by his side.
"Can I have this dance?" Harry asked, bowing low. This was, undoubtably, what Dumbledore had instructed him to do. Hermione could see the not-so-discreet signaling movements her mother was doing herself.
"Of course," Hermione swallowed hard, letting her fiancé take her hand.
Harry rested his hand on Hermione's waist, took her right hand in his left, and moved to the soft music the quartet was playing. Hermione's eyes flickered over his shoulder, to where Draco Malfoy was making obscenely rude faces of mock disgust. It took all of her self-control to not make a rude gesture back. Harry seemed to notice she was distracted.
"Are you two-?" Harry questioned, tilting his head ever so slightly in Draco's direction. Hermione's eyes grew wide in horror.
"No. No, absolutely not. But our mothers are-" Hermione thought it over. "Business partners. They expect us to be friends, but of course, he's a nasty prat." Harry chuckled at her words.
"I'm no stranger to Draco Malfoy myself," he admitted. "He knew me when I was little- we had a run in which concluded in us basically becoming mortal enemies." Hermione couldn't stop the laugh of delight that sprouted from her mouth, clutching Harry's forearm tighter.
"You know Malfoy?" Hermione giggled like a little girl. "He's foul. However did you meet him?"
"Visiting Slytherin kingdom's pride and joy- the snake exhibition," Harry shook his head. "There was an incident in which a snake escaped... frightening my cousin. But when it responded to me, and not the little blond boy also calling after it, he was mad. Apparently, only Slytherin citizens can interact with the snakes."
"The snakes?" Hermione was laughing, harder than what was proper for a princess, but couldn't stop it. Harry was laughing along with her, and the two glided across the floor, at ease with one another at last.
"He yelled at a complete stranger like the spoiled brat he was," Harry laughed, "Reminded me very much of my cousin Dudley."
"Your cousin?" Hermione questioned.
"I lived with my uncle and aunt for most of my life," Harry explained. "I'm sure Dumbledore told you."
"He might've mentioned it," Hermione said slowly. "But he didn't-"
"My parents were killed," Harry murmured, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand. "By a man who then attempted to kill me- but he didn't succeed." Letting go of Hermione, he swept the hair off of his forehead to show her a scar.
Hermione felt her breath catch. She raised her hand, and let her fingers hover over Harry's scar. With her eyes, she asked for permission. He granted it with a nod. Hermione grazed his slightly marked skin, her touch tentative. Harry closed his eyes, letting Hermione explore his blemish without staring.
Just then, the song ended. Their intimacy was gone. Hermione stepped away from Harry; he opened his eyes. The claps of people filled the room at appreciation for the dancing that had just occurred.
"Thank you," Hermione said breathlessly. Harry smiled at her, and took her hand gently.
"I'm sorry you've got to marry me," he said as the two of them walked hand in hand through the crowd of people. "I'm not exactly anyone's first choice."
"Nonsense," Hermione insisted. "You must have a girl back home crazy about you."
"Not exactly-" Harry raised his eyebrows. "I never really got out much. But what about you? I'm sure you're leaving a boy behind with a broken heart..."
"Not me," Hermione laughed lightly. "Just like you- never got out much." The two of them sat at one of the tables, hands still intertwined.
"It's sort of funny, isn't it?" Harry mused. "Getting married to untie Gryffindor. Rather weird."
"I suppose it is," Hermione said, and let go of Harry's hand. "At least you're not loathsome." The last part was said teasingly. The two of them were oddly getting along.
"Thank you-?" Harry trailed, but there was a smile evident in his voice. "I honestly expected you to be a spoiled brat or something... Gryffindor citizens make your family out to be traitors of some sort."
"Because my family weren't born into the throne," Hermione admitted. "As a result, many of or subjects see us unfit to rule."
"That's horrible," Harry frowned. "It's not right. I suppose people will say the same about me?" Hermione shook her head.
"My mother told me that you have royalty in your blood," she said. "We don't at all."
"That must be why they want us to get married," Harry said, and placed his hand on top of Hermione's. His thumb rubbed circles into her skin. "I hope you don't find this incredibly awkward- though it is-"
"I agree, it must-" Hermione began, but never finished.
"Granger," Draco Malfoy stalked towards the table with his annoying confident swagger. Harry let go of Hermione's hand.
"Malfoy, what is it you need?" Hermione's voice turned ice cold.
"Simple. I need to dance with you," Draco said, like that made perfect sense. His eyes flickered in recognition towards Harry, and his face twisted into one of loathing. "Potter."
"Malfoy," Harry snapped back.
"Why would you 'need' to dance with me?" Hermione hissed. "Go dance with that precious Pansy Parkinson of yours, the daughter of an all-mighty noble rather than a Mudblood."
"You're so daft, Granger," Draco said, tossing his hair over his forehead impatiently. "My mother will give me no peace, and she insists it's only right that I dance with the hostess of the ball before we can leave. I wouldn't touch your dirty mother with a ten foot pole, so I'll settle for you. Not that you're any better."
"You foul bastard," Hermione snapped, "I wouldn't dance with you if we were the last two people on earth and our lives depended on it! Don't you dare speak about my mother that way!"
"She's nothing but a Mudblood," Draco said smugly. "Just like you."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry intercepted angrily. "Don't talk about the queen that way. Or the princess."
"Potter, you stay out of things that don't concern you," Draco said. "Oh wait, I forgot. You're getting married to Granger. I pity you."
"Leave, Malfoy," Harry said, his temper rising. "Now."
"Gladly," Draco said, "But I'll need to borrow your future wife." He grabbed Hermione by the wrist, and yanked her towards the dance floor. The quartet had started another song again, a slow one.
"Let go of me," Hermione struggled against him. Draco grabbed her waist and pulled her in against his chest.
"Congratulations on your engagement," he said in a tone that suggested just the opposite of what he'd said, and began to dance with her.
"Thank you," Hermione said back icily. "You're such a slave to your precious mother, aren't you? Doing whatever she tells you to. And here I thought you were a man."
"I'm not rude like some people," Draco tightened his hold, pulling Hermione closer so that her face was inches from his. "She is my mother."
"Then you understand why I don't appreciate you insulting my own mother," Hermione frowned.
"That's where we're different, Granger-" Draco loosed his hold, spun Hermione around, and yanked her back into his arms. "We're Pureblood, and you're- you."
"You're the worst person I've ever had the misfortune of being next to," Hermione said angrily.
"Likewise, Granger," Draco obviously mocked her words from when he had escorted her in. He moved across the floor, towards where Queen Narcissa and King Lucius were dancing.
Hermione eyed both of them hesitantly, but they didn't speak to them. Only Draco acknowledged them with a tight lipped smile before moving on. Hermione was whisked harshly to another area of the room, her face sinking into the front of Draco's shirt. He smelled good, something Hermione couldn't place. Quickly, she pulled away.
The song ended and Draco stepped away from her. Hermione's arms fell from Draco's sides, and she took an even further step back. Before Draco could say something, Harry appeared at Hermione's side and took his fiancé's arm.
"I'll be cutting in here," he said firmly. "I trust you'll come to the wedding?" Draco's face twisted into a sneer.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said. He stalked away. Just like that. Hermione gratefully placed her hand on Harry's, but kept her eyes glued to Draco.
Still ooc- yeah. Any Dramione fic recommendations, I'd love to hear them!
