Author's Note: LATE UPDATE. I know, shoot me. (Oh no, please don't, actually). I'm so sorry about that. Too much schoolwork this past week.I'll update the next chapter in time though. I just wish that you'd review so I can have more inspiration. Don't get me wrong. I love the follows and favorites just as much, but reviews actually make me feel even closer to you guys, and that's something I really want. :)

I've just recently discovered the web series of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (a modern adaptation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice through the use of vlogs), and it's super duper cute and awesome, and just, wow. If you love that classic like I do, then this adaptation will be sure to make you feel giddy with just how cool it is. And adorable. I mean, I'd ship Lizzie and Darcy in whatever reincarnation or whatnot. And love Darcy, of course. As we share the same personality profile… But that's beside the point. Little reference to it down there if you happen to catch it. :) Oh, and a teeny tiny reference to TID, too. ;)

Anyways, here's the twist y'all have been waiting for. Don't smack me for it. LOL. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be rich. Not to mention Dramione would be canon. But Queen Jo owns it, and I humbly admit that. Sucks about Dramione though.


The Twist: Top Secret Bride

"Top secret until the day itself."

Hermione was gaping again, and she knew it. "WHAT?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Mother may have been too vague. What she meant to say was that the identity of the bride should be kept in wraps until the wedding day. You will know who she is, of course, and some of your staff, but you have to make an Unbreakable Vow with me to ensure your silence, and the rest of the people who will be required to know the identity of the bride should sign an agreement ensuring us of their discretion as well. Remember that all the guests should not know who she is until the moment that she reaches the pulpit. Aside from her family, of course."

Hermione bit her lip and frowned. "That does clear it up a little bit, but why the suspense on the identity of the bride?"

Draco stared. "You're taking this especially well. I'd expected you to just slump down on your chair, throw both hands up in the air and shout, 'THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!'"

Narcissa raised her brow. "Hush, son. It is more of our business than yours, Miss Granger. All we need is for you to agree to keep the bride's identity a secret the whole duration of the planning process."

"Ah, publicity. And I'm not going to lie, Draco, Mrs. Malfoy, when I say that this seems like a very unusual task to put on my shoulders."

Draco glowered. "Are you going to make the Vow with me or not?" Which, of course, translates to: are you up to the challenge or not, Granger? or something akin to that.

"Oh Merlin, you weren't kidding about that part."

He scoffed. "Of course not."

"You have to be kidding me. A top-secret bride?"

"Absolutely not. Why would we waste our time if we had such a mundane agenda as to 'kid' you?" Narcissa interrupted.

"Well, can you pull it off or not?" Draco sounded challenging. And if there's one thing Hermione doesn't stand down from, it's a challenge. But really, top-secret bride for publicity? These purebloods definitely thought differently.

"I'm afraid we'll have to Obliviate you if you decline now." Narcissa added, sounding as if she wasn't sorry in the least bit should they resort to casting memory charms.

Hermione shook her head. "Alright, alright! I'll do it." She'd rather undertake a nearly Herculean task of keeping the bride's identity a secret until the wedding day herself than to subject her memories to the Malfoys, thank you very much.

Narcissa nodded, satisfied. "Very well then. I shall be your Bonder."

Draco was grumbling as he and Hermione kneeled, facing each other. The set of her shoulders told him she wasn't any happier than he was. "Blast it, I had hoped you'd decline."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they clasped their right hands together. "The mere fact that it was you, Malfoy, should've made me decline already."

Narcissa approached the pair and Hermione pursed her lips. She put the tip of her wand on their joined hands and nodded at Draco.

Draco spoke. "Will you, Gra—Hermione, keep the secret of the identity of my bride-to-be until the day of the wedding?"

Hermione was pretty sure other Unbreakable Vows weren't so… pathetic. Or used in such practice. But she still replied solemnly. "I will."

A thin stream of fire left Narcissa Malfoy's wand and wove around their hands.

"Will you make sure that the rest of the people who have to know her identity will keep it a secret as well?"

What, she had to do that too? Luckily, she knew what that would take. Marietta Edgecombe had never been the same after all, had she? "I will."

Another stream of fire.

"Will you do whatever it is in your power to keep the press from knowing too?"

Well well well… Hermione knew she should have asked what Malfoy's terms were before doing the actual vow, but, too late. "I will." She gritted out.

The stream of fire wound around their clasped hands one last time before Draco let go, nodding satisfactorily, his face set in a grim expression. Hermione assumed it was because he had just been subjected to holding hands with one of his childhood nemeses. And a mudblood at that! Don't worry ferret, she wanted to say, I'm no fan of holding your hand either, slimy git. But alas, his mother was present.

Draco made a strangled sound again that sounded like choked back laughter, but what the hell would he be laughing about at such time? Hermione dismissed it and walked back over to her desk where she took out a new folder with blank documents inside it. It was a basic wedding planning kit she had put together. "Now, can we finally begin the part where we do things… conventionally?" she asked.

Both Malfoys turned to look at her. Draco dusted his pants while Narcissa tucked her wand into her robes. "We shall schedule another meeting. She will be with us then. Then," Narcissa shot Hermione a pointed look. "We can start 'conventionally'."

Hermione nodded. "Bailee will help you with that."

Both Malfoys barely nodded as the left. Hermione gave an annoyed sigh. "You'd think they'd be more thankful." She muttered. No sooner than she had spoken did the door open and Bailee rushed in, looking alarmed.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" she practically screamed. Hermione winced. Everybody in the building had probably heard that, including the Malfoys who she bets weren't quite out of the main door yet. But oh well, who cares?

Bailee closed the door and rushed to sit on the chair across Hermione's table. Hermione gave her a weak nod. "It's okay, Bailee, I'm okay." Despite herself, she couldn't help but be amused at her friend's antics.

"No really, the trusty little thingy that warns me when magic is performed inside your office went crazy a few moments ago."

Hermione raised a brow as she was reminded of that useful charm she had cast after one time when one of her customer's kin had tried doing unspeakable things doing magic… over the color scheme.


"I will not be fooled! This is ecru, Miss Granger, ECRU! My dear Jessie asked for ivory and you give her ecru?"

Now it was all very disconcerting to have someone throwing a fit and screaming at you with those words.

What made it even more so was the fact that it was in a Southern accent.

I mean really, just imagine.

No offense on the accent, per se, but the whole thing was disconcerting enough.

Hermione blinked. The woman had just burst in her office without so much of a warning and she was now looking at the enormous hat on the lady's head and… what was she talking about again?

"Jessie?" Hermione asked, greatly at a loss. The woman had taken her by complete surprise. "Oh! Jessie Calhoun." Jessamine Calhoun was one of the latest brides Hermione was helping. "And you are…"

"Why, I'm her aunt of course! My dear Jessie has just shown me the sample of the table arrangement for the reception and my dear, the table napkins are supposed to be ivory (or ahyvory, as Hermione heard it) and not ecru! Oh my dear Merlin, I expected so much from you." The amount of 'my dear's in it made Hermione even more lost on what the fuss was about.

"Oh. Pleased to meet you, Ma'am." Hermione managed to pull out a chair and have the fuming Ms. Calhoun (the father's sister, as evidenced by the accent) sit, and she quickly flipped through the Calhoun-Macmillan nuptials (the groom was a cousin of Ernie's). The agreed upon table arrangement was in it, along with notes on how the table napkins and other details accented the color scheme. Indeed, Jessie had requested for ivory, but Hermione had shown her the ecru and explained that it went better with the color scheme and gave it more color, and she had agreed. Hermione couldn't understand why Jessamine's aunt was now here, demanding why the table napkins were ecru and not ivory.

"Miss Granger, I simply will not allow this to happen to my niece!" Hermione's eye twitched, and then the woman was holding her wand to Hermione's face.

Her eyes widened. "Ma'am, what…"

Crookshanks hissed from the corner of Hermione's office he had retreated to at the arrival of Ms. Calhoun. It was bring-your-pet-to-work-day. Or it was, in Hermione's case, as her flat was currently undergoing repairs and she couldn't leave Crookshanks alone with the workers else her paint would probably have a touch of blood as her cat was very… moody around strangers and got even more irksome at loud noises. Her parents couldn't pet-sit Crookshanks either because they were out of town for a holiday of their own. So there he was, hissing at the deranged woman threatening his owner.

Said woman glared at the said cat and pointed her wand at it instead. "Incarcerous!" (In-caaawh-cerous!)

The spell's quite familiar to many of you, I know. But believe me when I say that at this particular incident, something very strange happened. As if things weren't peculiar by that point. Instead of ropes, a large number of different colored ribbons suddenly began to wrap around Crookshanks, alarming him and making him yowl and scratch at the ribbons in protest. The ribbons, however, seemed indestructible even against the sharp claws of Hermione's pet. Hermione looked on, alarmed. She'd hated to cast a spell to stop the woman unless it was absolutely necessary, but her cat was losing the fight with ribbons (yeah, how funny that sounds).

"The only way to get rid of the spell is by identifying the proper color of each ribbon, Miss Granger. Nothing else but that!"

"STUPEFY!"


That experience was pretty… illuminating, to say the least. Bailee and the other trainees at the time rushed to Hermione's office when they heard her shout the last hex, and found Hermione, a Crookshanks that looked like some mummy, and a stupefied woman who looked positively miffed.

Needless to say they all learned quite a number of shades and hues that day. The ribbons were put to use by putting them systematically into a portfolio which Hermione now used when discussing color schemes with customers.

It's safe to say that that experience had been quite helpful to a certain level, nevertheless, Hermione made sure that next time an uncommon spell is used inside her office, an alarm would signal Bailee at least.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Hermione clarified, running a hand through her hair. "This wedding's going to be a little bit unconventional, that's all. And the Malfoys deemed in appropriate to take certain measures to ensure my discreteness and cooperation."

Bailee raised a brow. "Will the rest of us find out about this mysterious wedding anytime soon?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "Sure. I just have to finish up some paperwork. Oh, and did they have another meeting scheduled?"

Bailee, out of habit, looked at their calendar. "Oh, right. They said they'd owl as to when they'll be available."

Hermione snorted. "Socialites. Always have so many things to do, so many places to be."

Somehow, she felt that this wedding would be way more challenging than the Calhoun incident. And that's saying a lot, considering Crookshanks had to go for pet therapy after the traumatizing experience of almost getting wrapped to death by creams, chiffons, pastels yellows, creams, and, I kid you not, those were just a few of the shades of yellow. And then there were the shades of red, blue, and… you get what I mean.

After all, top-secret bride.

Where have you ever heard of such a scheme?

Hm?

That's right.

Only here.


Sneak Peek for Next Chapter:

"A what was that again?"

"Any ideas?"

"Pft. No."

"I expected you to have more plans, since you suggested this."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!"

"Well you're the planner here."

"Well, contrary to popular belief, I do not do everything."