DISCLAIMER; HP belongs to JKR. The story line and all new characters, new character development, new developments are my intellectual property.

For those who missed it, peewee is a name used for a young child, it is no actually bad. In USA the softball league for younger juniors is called the Peewee League. A pewee is a small grey american bird that catches flies. Draco loves the little grey birds. In the previous chapter he upgraded her from a pee-wee to My Pe-wee. Two different things, yet pronounced the same. The point was he no longer wanted to call her short, but my little bird, he totally likes her, and he wouldn't be nasty, and he wants to be liked by her. Maybe it is difficult to realize the two different spellings, I probably failed in conveying the message. :). Read the chapter and you will find out about the Pewee tale. By the way, I've been informed that the word peewee has different meanings in other countries, live and learn.:)

THE RELUCTANT BRIDE

Five days later, the big day was nearly there. This night was the evening of the wedding day; not soon enough for Draco, but the idea of a next day wedding was just not doable. Five days were the minimum to orchestrate such an event, Narcissa kept telling him.

Draco had bellyached the entire time, "Mother what if my little bird, my sweet Pewee should escape, it will be your fault."

"Dracky, the next day was too difficult. As it is, we almost didn't make it." Never mind having to coordinate with Hermione's mother, who had refused the offers to stay at the Manor. Which was a good thing because Narcissa didn't like Dr. Granger's fiancée, the nasty werewolf who was her niece's widower, and she didn't want him to come near her; she had her reasons.

"Draky, darling, you cannot imagine the work. We had to give those coming from far a few days notice." Not true, they already knew.

Lucius looked irritated, "What is that ridiculous name you call your bride?" He figured it and didn't like it. It was another reminder of his schemes gone bad. Whereas he knew how to make gold multiply, all his other clever ideas ended up in disaster. However the pewees was an unforgettable one. Both Lucius and Draco remembered.

That summer long ago, a swarm of pesky flies had invaded the barns, the gardens, everywhere. The swarm was a result of a poorly executed dark charm cast by Draco when he was seven. He'd read it in a book, and thought they referred to fire flies; and what child, or adult, doesn't like fire flies? A friend who liked natural solutions to pest control, had sold Lucius magically enhanced pewees, a small fly catching bird from across the pond, to get rid of the pests.

Lucius decided that if a little enhancement was good, more was better, and he fed them a potion in the bird bath; he had wanted the flies gone for the Summer Solstice ball, and made super fly catchers. Soon, the flies were gone, but the pewees' breeding cycle messed up, and they nested several times; before long, they had clouds of the little grey birds, everywhere.

Lucius wanted to kill them, but Draco heard, loved the small birds and begged for their saftey. For reasons unknown to everyone, the grey flock followed Draco everywhere even inside the Manor, and bird droppings were all over the place. The birds ruined the Ball, they were all over the guests, the food, what a disaster. By fall time most were gone, and Draco cried for days. He still believed his father was behind the massive exodus. One day he would find out, and Lucius would pay, he was a Malfoy and kept tabs, it ran in their blood.

Draco didn't answer, but at his father's, "Drop the silly name, your bride is too pretty to be called after such drab pest, why?"

"Because she is a tiny witch, but the real reason is that I used to call her a peewee, a derogatory name calling, she was and is petite; and since she is tiny as the pewees, the name stuck, besides is none of your business. The pewees weren't and aren't a pest." He gave Lucius a suspicious look, Lucius looked the other way.

"Whatever, but he witch is out for blood, better watch out for her. Don't say that I didn't warn you. She reminds me of my grandfather, the same look. He was a blood thirsty wizard, nasty wicked words were always spewing out of his lips, and he bled his enemies dry, literally," his eyes looked far away. "Ah, yes, you are lucky, very, she will make a fine Malfoy witch," he raised his eyebrows a couple of times, "I've noticed the lust is upon you, well deserved, she is a veritable beauty."

Later that day Draco stood by her room and told the guard to take a short break.

"My bride to-be-tomorrow, are you here?" Draco had volunteered to get her since even the house elves feared her.

He knocked again but nobody answered. After a slight hesitation, he came in followed by one of the Kneazles. The felines liked to follow Draco, they knew the chances that one or two pewees might be near him and perhaps they would get lucky.

When the weather was warmer, the small birds would find their way into the Manor, still attracted to Draco's magic, nothing could be done; even the Dark Lord had tried and failed, not even Nagini ever caught one. Moreover, Draco still protected the little birds, and they were untouchable. The Kneazles would get zapped when trying to have a fresh fowl snack, not that it stopped them from trying. Lucius suspected that his magic reinforcement had made the flying vermin invincible and indestructible.

"My sweet bride, my MiMi, I am in the room…" he stopped and listened, hmm, the shower was running. A wicked smile gleamed on Draco's face, why not, it won't hurt. I can always feign surprise. After all, we are nearly married, I can inspect the goods before the final purchase. She might even like it…Now, now, no lies, my Pewee might get nasty…who cares…

"Hey, I am coming in just in case you might be in, I have a gift …"

He pushed the door to the dressing room, and he froze in place. Have I died and this is an angel? Well, my idea of one.

If he was already hard, now he was beyond aroused. His cock throbbed, and all he could hear was his blood rushing.

She didn't scream, let him look, what is the sense, by tomorrow he will do more than looking. I know the drill, we will be forced to drink a lust potion. Gag, I will need a triple shot and an eye mask. Stupid law, disobedience carries a high price, Azkaban and losing your wand, just do it.

She stood there, her foot up on a low foot rest, she was facing the door, giving him a full frontal view between her thighs. Damn, her freshly washed totally naked body is still dripping, lucky water.

He swallowed to wet his dry mouth, his eyes traveling the promised land, his mind stuttering, if that were possible. His innate ability to catalog all he saw was in full force. How, how, Merlin…the creamy treats topped with those delicious pale cherries, oh gods. Lick them, yes taste them, run your lips and your tongue. Botticelli's Venus is nothing, give me my witch…that sweet firm bod, holly cow… my tongue lapping the water droplets…fuck I am thirsty. Go, walk, do it, lick her, all the way down to that yummy treat…she trims it, only an arrow, damn the naughty Pewee, my witchy, mine. Move…

Hermione's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed and twisted to the side. She was used to the boys 'walking in' when she showered during their stint in the Forest. They were pervies at the time and wanted a free peep show. No skin of her back, she had no hang ups with her body. She had gone with her parents to Muggle resorts all her life were nude sunbathing was not unusual. The body was the body, but in the Wizarding world with their Victorian attitudes, well…come to think, Wilbur wasn't any different; he had screamed like a girl when he had seen her sunbathing during a vacation and had thrown a towel to cover her, the prude.

She stopped drying, "Are you going to move? You look like a frozen penguin. What are you looking at, and are you doing in my room? Are you coming to get me out my cell?"

He still stood in place, one foot stretched in front of him, he was catatonic. His eyes fixed on what? She followed the path of his pupils and saw his eyes' target, "You, you, pervert, the nerve, didn't 'the prettiest of them all,' tell you that it was rude to stare." She dropped the towel; harrumphed; lowered her foot; wrapped a towel…around her hair, her head was dripping after all; and came towards him, less than happy.

Draco was still frozen, well, not completely, his eyes weren't, neither was he below his waist. His arms unlocked the moment she reached him with her arm stretched out, ready to push him

His arms locked around his prey, the witch gave a surprised strangled sound. She hadn't seen it coming. The surprise attack, as she saw it, had disabled her temporarily. His hands got busy at work sliding down to her bum. Once the target was reached, he both caressed the soft, luscious cheeks, and brought her closer.

His vocal chords remained locked, and only tiny moans could be heard at the instant that his aroused cock felt the pressure of her body. His lips moved across her face rapidly, he was already in a frenzy. She was no match for his masterful bedroom skills..

Hermione was amazed at how she liked the ferret's hands on her bum, and his hard weapon against her belly (Ron called his bit, 'my best weapon,' if only). His tall, solid body was fine as well. Her hormonal reaction — she later thought that it had been purely instinctual—had temporarily distracted her.

Draco's mind no longer functioned, he was overtaken by lust. His hips pressing against her felt so good. Her fragrance surrounded him inside the steamy bathroom, further inflaming him. He pushed her towards the sink counter, to have better access. He nearly had her there, when his lips were next to her mouth.

This was also the moment she opened her eyes, her inner Hermione had tapped her shoulder, 'Girl, wake up, those arms belong to your scaly enemy, and that large hardness is his, yuck!'

Indeed, her open eyes revealed Draco's closed eyes and felt his lips nearly upon hers. She pushed him with all her might; he stumbled backwards and saw her eyes blazing with disgust. With a shrilly voice she screamed,"OUT. OUT. DIRTY SNAKE, QUIT MOLESTING ME…" along with a stream of nastiness and false accusations, not mad at him, mostly mad with herself because she had felt equally aroused.

Draco straightened and responded, "Listen you witch, say it, you liked it." The one-track Draco was back, and all he could think was about her body still present on his hands. Yes, she did, she wanted it. I can smell you, your aroused body. So pretty, so naked and so angry. My lioness... growling...chasing me…

He smiled one of his predatory smiles, "Aha, methinks you are so angry but it's not at me, oh no, you are mad at yourself you because you liked it so much, ha, ha." He looked at her lazily and appreciative. Oh yes sweet bonbon, you li…

He froze again with the view in front of him when she turned around and bent to pick up her towel. Not possible, perfection, true beauty, my witch is a perfect treat front and back... our wedding night is not soon enough.

He knew better and turned to leave, but at the door, he turned around, and was greeted by a evil glare that would scare a lesser wizard.

"Cool it, I am going...ah, here, for tomorrow," he moved to a counter and dropped a gorgeous pearl necklace with a pendant of a grey bird holding an emerald.

"I had it made for you, my sweet Pewee, my witch…the mother of my children…ah, children, the making…" his smile scared her.

He heard her growl when he left, listening her nasty response. She was hot, but her mouth…yes, her mouth, those lips around my cock, that pink tongue licking it …Yup Draco you are in trouble, face it, you will put up with her nastiness to get to the yummies you saw earlier.

He had not noticed that his light color trousers and cashmere silk jumper, were soaked. Lucius who was coming towards him guffawed, "Were you trying to catch a slippery witch," he taunted Draco. He was proud if his son. He was lucky marrying his true lust, love would come soon enough, maybe, it came for those who married their true lust, whatever, the past was gone.

"If I did, so what? But really, she will never accept me. Why did Mother had to have such a big wedding, why? My witch is about to bail. How much longer before she escapes?"

The Unhappy Bride. Wedding Day-

Malfoy Manor was bursting at the seams. The society doors had indeed opened for the Malfoy, what a coup, a non-violent one, almost. The guest list of thousands was nearly fully attended. Of course the invitations and preparations, were underway days before the owls had delivered the marriage mandates.

Everyone was talking, a Malfoy no less, dark as a midnight shade, marrying the Princess of Light, the golden witch, a Muggle at that. It was true, everyone agreed the Malfoy had done it, their sins would be all forgotten when the vows were said. The white wedding theme said it all, the Manor was dressed all in white; the formula was simple, a bride in thru the Manors door, and every wall that was stained with sins was washed white. And the Malfoy would again be at the center of it all.

Great move, and the study had been a great success judging from all the happy newlyweds, most have been real well analyzed matches; some more than others, at least four were made to specifications; namely: Hermione and Draco, Harry and Daphne, Theo and Luna, and Ron and Lydia; it paid to be in charge of the results. What they hadn't really checked, was that Hermione was really Draco's best match, as for Hermione, well, she had many maybes, but nothing concrete. Then best match was a squib by many points was a Muggle noble, and that wouldn't do.

Here doesn't come the Bride

Hermione looked like a princess, an angry one, Hermione was still partially bound. She was kept in partial restrains whenever she was taken out her non-magic proof room. Paid guards were kept all around to prevent an untoward escape.

Draco was sick of her attitude, and all he wanted was to be married to able to shag her. His mind was stuck and all he could think was about her, but her sharp tongue was taking a toll.

It would seem she remembered each of his transgressions against her since day one. The damn witch kept tabs, who would have known. The list was long, a litany, a play by play of each, down to location, time, to include what he wore at the time. His friends were all laughing, all knew that she didn't want to marry him. Their prince truly hooked by a siren who despised him, it was way too sweet to let it pass, and all were advising him to wear protective gear tonight.

"Draco, she is hotness personified, but, bloody hell, she is an evil witch. If I were you, I would protect my bits with a charm you are sure to find in your father's library. Maybe the same that made the nasty little birds indestructible."

He had given her a few kisses near the mouth and nearly got her, but as soon as she opened an eye, his life was in peril. Last evening when he saw her wet from shower, he was catatonic for hours. When he walked away from Lucius his eyes were flooded with reels of her from the second he saw her wet body. People just buzzed around him. He kept thinking that his angry Pewee was a dream come true. Harry had called her Mimi, and he also liked that name. One-track-Draco only thought in terms of sex with his witch. He was worthless at work and everywhere else; so his thoughts were nothing new, Mimi is a fine name, only four syllables, well actually two...a great boudoir name while I drive inside the tight paradise, Mi-Mi…cannot wait to practice. When a name took him to sex land, he'd vaguely realized how deep he was in.

Hermione had been dressed in her finery by force. Her mother had finally showed up, wearing a chic retro hat with her face partially coved by a silk net.

She was in a tiff, so her beautiful mother, another petite witch with the same curly hair, tried to calm her daughter. The Muggle mother, who had been eyed by most males over 30, was an object of talks all round. Too bad she was wearing Remus ring, they were marrying, maybe that was the reason Remus growled whenever he caught someone's eye. Hmm, oh well.

"Hermione, honey, darling, please be reasonable, you need to settle down, " her mother held the angry daughter's hand.

"Yes, settle down? It seems everyone is cozy with their picks. Luna the traitor, she is nearly shagging Theo, I just saw them going behind a curtain, they are marrying later today. As for Harry, he won't look at me on the eye, yes, he is with Daphne, and I saw him with his arm around Pansy, well around both their waists. Even Ron, so much for let's marry now, less than a week ago, now ready to marry some strange witch…" she seemed defeated.

"Sigh, and…well no… Astoria has it worse," and a wicked smile a came across her lips…"He he he, that Pureblood snob that looked down on me." She laughed quite unpleasantly. Her mother raised an eyebrow, frankly, her daughter was showing the worse of her character, she sounded like an evil witch.

Hermione was glad, Nobody trusted Astoria, and Lucius had made a bracelet enhanced with Magical Muggle tech. If she came within 20 meters of Bill, the alarm would flash at the Malfoy security headquarters. She owed him one.

But, wait, Lucius had sent her a cuff, made of platinum and gold, the head of a lioness and a snake head at each end, the eyes emeralds and rubies…Lucius-the-snake sending her a 'little present,' the thought of being in that family…

"Mom, quick, I need to barf…"

"Not again, enough is enough, that makes it worse, six times in two hours are too many. You have to do it, or better, time to take your place in our world. Why not? You will nor even accept any of your tittles; would it kill you to be properly addressed? By the way, Wilbur is waiting for you; our families, your dear departed father's family and his go back to the Crusaders times. Old traditions, if there is a marriageable Granger daughter still single at 24 she must..."

"No, no, stop it. Don't use Father. Don't say it."

"Knock, knock''

A squeaky voice, it was Mipsy the bossy elf, "Missus you hurries, ten minutes."

"That little b.i.t.c.h no wonder poor Dobby went batty, she was his aunt. I hate them all."

Her mother tried her best to ignore her and continued " Wilbur is right outside, your father signed an old contract, and may I remind…"

Hermione tuned her mother out, she sighed. Wilbur was the driest, dullest man in the entire universe, boring didn't come close, and a prude to top it all. She had tried, after all he wasn't bad in the looks department, truly he was nearly as pretty as the prettiest, so during her hormonal years she sat on his lap. Needless to say, it had not ended well. He accused her of trying to tempt him, and how improper it was. And how about when she sunbathed topless, sigh. If he had shown a little interest, she was willing at the time. True she had been, what 16? Maybe younger, no worries, her mother would brow beat her, he was high nobility, and the only way out this mess. Who knew they said shy males were fire crackers in bed.

His father an Earl, was her father's childhood friend, and if she wasn't married five moths before her 24th b-day, it was walking down the aisle with him. She had agreed when she was 17, before going with Harry, at the time 24 years old seemed 100 years away. Somehow her mother had known about Unbreakables, she said Harry had told her, just a little insurance. Her own fault for not being careful.

"Fine, you win I'll do it but count on this, I will be out a minute later after it is legally possible."

Her mother started crying, Hermione rolled her eyes, "Here we go."

"It is difficult being pregnant and all this…"

"Mom you cannot pull out the pregnant card all the time. You have done this about 1,000 times by now. Face it, to them I will always be a Mudblood."

Her mother with her bag of mother's tricks started to say something, sometimes she could swear her mother was a Slytheryn. A good thing she wasn't magical, otherwise it would be a given. Why, she had dried her tears and looked like a rattlesnake, sounding her rattle to warn her of the impending attack. Hermione did a double take...nah, just seeing nonsense.

"Darling? What if I confess an itty-bitty lie of omission, one that I've hidden for years... for your own good." Her eyes had an unhealthy gleam.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, she hated the 'for your own good preamble,' it was never good, "What now? Let it roll, I cannot even start to guess, let's see, no, hmm, yeah, you are a witch, and you been hiding, because, let's see."

She should have looked at her mother nodding her head, looking somewhat relieved.

a/n oh, oh, Hermione is bound to find more bad news. Why not, nothing seems to be going well. She is another kind of Bridezilla, a very peeved one. Any guesses of what might be going on?