Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.
You may be an ass, but your fashion sense is impeccable.
CHAPTER TEN
Hermione, of course, had no idea where to find an owl or even parchment and ink, and she wouldn't go back and ask Lucius if her life depended on it. Luckily she did manage to find a house-elf to help her. After a quick owl to Ron asking if he'd do the honors at the binding ceremony and another to Molly asking if she'd be willing to help her get ready in the morning, Hermione dropped back into the drawing room, swiping a sandwich and interrupting Severus, Draco and Rodolphus to check that Severus wasn't overdoing it. She made both Draco and Rodolphus promise to watch over him, much to their amusement.
"You're not my mother, girl," the Potions Master snarled with irritation.
"No, but it is my wifely prerogative to fuss." Sparring with Lucius left her feeling quite giddy and more than a little brave. If she could manage the elder Malfoy, the rest of her husbands would be as simple as a Wingardium Leviosa. "I don't want you back in the hospital and tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"I'm not one of your moronic friends to be led by the nose, Miss Granger." His scowl was as black as any he'd ever directed at Neville, but it didn't faze her in the slightest.
"I am exceptionally bossy, you will find, and I am willing to hex you if I don't get my way. Ask Mr. Lestrange."
"It's true. She transfigured the Weasley boy into a toad this morning. Although I do believe he had it coming, Miss Granger."
"That and more, but it isn't worth dwelling on. So unless you'd like to spend the afternoon as a bat, Professor, I suggest you do me the simple favor of taking it easy, which is in your best interest anyway."
"You know if you turn me into a ferret, it'll mean war," Draco said, smirking.
"And we've only just declared a truce." She mocked up a big sigh and a fake pout. "In that case, I hope you don't do anything to make me really angry. I'm enjoying the peace." She and the blond boy shared a smile. "Well I must be off; I've another husband to irritate."
As she left the room, she heard Draco remark, "I do believe she is enjoying this too much."
She went back to the parlor, smiling to herself, and found Lucius sipping a Firewhiskey. "Have I driven you to drink already?"
"It is a concatenation of factors, of which you are merely one small part. I've just had a conversation with my former wife."
"Draco told me about her situation. I think it's horrible what the Ministry's done. I hope she will not mind all of us invading her home."
"I'm quite certain she does mind, but she doesn't have a choice."
"We could go elsewhere."
"I'd rather not have to share a room with someone in that hovel Weasley calls a house."
Hermione bristled at his insult to the Weasleys, but took a deep calming breath before responding, "I'll admit the Manor is grander than any of the others, though Longbottom Hall is lovely, but I'm certain we could manage to find an alternative if that would be easier."
"Nonsense. Narcissa will adapt. We all must." He tossed back the remainder of his drink. "Are you ready to go?"
Hermione just nodded.
"If you will allow me to apparate you, we needn't walk all the way beyond the gate. Once we are married, I'll be able to make you an exception to the wards."
"That would be more convenient, thank you."
He held out his arm for her and she took it, closing her eyes against the dizzying sensation. They reappeared in a narrow space between two buildings on the south end of Diagon Alley.
"Aren't we going to Madam Malkins?" she asked.
"Madam Malkin's is fine for school robes, but has nothing appropriate for a binding of this nature. We'll go to Twilfit and Tattings."
She released his arm in preparation to step from the alley onto the street, but he stopped her. "Are you uncomfortable being seen in public with me?"
"Of course not," she said taking his arm again, "I'm just not accustomed to being escorted."
"That is because you've been keeping company with cretins."
"I'll not comment on the kind of company you've been known to keep. I'll take my cretins over that lot any day."
"Touché, Miss Granger." He sounded chastened, but he was still smirking as he led her from the shadows.
Diagon Alley, like all of the other wizarding communities, was much altered since the end of the war. Many of the stores still had not reopened, either because the new Ministry had closed down stores catering to the Dark Arts, or because the proprietors had not survived the war or the plague afterwards. Even still, there always seemed to be wizards and witches on the street as it remained the most concentrated area of commerce in the country.
Since the final battle, Hermione was used to attracting attention when she was in public, but even being out and about with Harry didn't compare to the attention she and Lucius attracted on their short walk to the store's entrance.
Once inside the quiet store, Hermione tried to forget the odd stares and long looks, but there was a small group gathered on the street, looking through the windows.
The number of gowns available for the binding was staggering and what complicated matters was that witches did not only wear white. There were gowns of every conceivable color and a few Hermione had never seen before. But, in her case, Lucius insisted she wear white as it would symbolize her purity and innocence. It did help narrow things down a bit and as she had always expected to wear white to her wedding, she didn't argue.
As an associate showed her the selection, Lucius chose the dress robes for her other husbands. She'd managed to whittle the choices down to three by the time he'd finished.
"Well let's see them on you."
"Isn't it bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the ceremony?"
"Where did that ridiculous superstition come from?"
"Ah, I guess it is just a Muggle thing. The groom isn't supposed to see the gown and he isn't supposed to see her on the day of the wedding until she arrives for the service."
"What a silly custom. We have no need for such things. Besides, we'll be married tomorrow, good luck or no."
"That is true. Well I suppose I'll just try these on."
The attendant helped her into each of the gowns and she could see that Lucius appreciated her figure in the first dress and that he didn't especially care for the second. But it was clear that the third dress was the winner.
It was a strapless charmeuse gown with ruching on the bodice and a silver pendant adorning the banded waist made from intertwined runes in a Celtic style. The gathered skirt flowed freely to the ground, trailing just a small train behind.
"Lovely," he said, watching her in the mirror.
"I quite like this one. Do you think it appropriate?"
"I think it's perfect. You must wear your hair down with flowers in it, orange blossoms if I can find them."
"No veil?"
"No, that's another Muggle tradition. I see no reason to hide your beauty beneath a veil."
"If you keep paying me compliments, Mr. Malfoy, I might have to visit St. Mungo's. I'm certainly going insane."
"There's little use denying it, you're a beautiful girl, no matter any other less appealing qualities..."
"See you had to ruin it," she interjected.
"…like your sharp tongue," he finished with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. "What shoes do you think?"
"No shoes, poppet. Two hundred years ago, none of us would have worn any clothing during this rite, to allow us to be at one with magics of the earth, sky and heavens. Now, we go barefoot. It's a bit less scandalous."
"Dear heavens."
"Two hundred years before that, the consummation would have occurred as part of the ceremony, in front of the witnesses." He had come up behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his body on her bare shoulders.
Hermione spun, covering her gaping mouth with her hand. She could feel the blood in her cheeks and he was smirking down at her. After she finally got her voice working, she managed to say, "Just imagine how long the ceremony would have taken with ten husbands."
He threw back his head and laughed at that, a deep, rich sound that surprised her. What surprised her more was when he kissed her after. It was a spontaneous gesture that took her breath away and left her feeling like she'd been hit with the Jelly-Legs Jinx.
Her cheeks were still blazing and he was still smirking when he finally pulled away to find the associate who had discreetly left to give them privacy.
"We will take this one, and we will need appropriate slippers for the reception. Also keep Miss Granger's measurements on hand. She will need additional formalwear and day robes, and maternity wear before too long."
At the counter they argued over who would pay, but Hermione finally won. "This gown is the last thing I will purchase as a single witch. I'm buying it with money that my parent's would have given me, if they could be here." She paused to take a deep breath and gather her emotions. "Please let them contribute to this day, even if they do so unwittingly."
"Of course. My apologies for pressing the matter."
"Don't worry about it." She turned, blotting the wetness from the corner of her eye discreetly.
Lucius carried the bags, holding the door for her to exit onto the street. The little crowd had grown while they were shopping and Hermione found herself separated from her escort.
An old, wizened witch grasped her arm. "Do you need any help, dearie?" she asked, taking her hand and leading her away farther from Lucius.
"No, thank you, madam. I'm quite well."
"You seem like such a sweet girl. I don't like to see you with the likes of Lucius Malfoy."
"Thank you, but I assure you I am quite safe." She looked back and was unable to see him for the wizards standing in the way.
"I wouldn't be so sure. He has a nasty reputation."
"I am quite familiar with his reputation and his character. I was present during the final battle when he stood against Voldemort in the end. Now if you will please excuse me, I must find him." Hermione pulled her arm from the crone's grip and pushed her way through the bodies to find Lucius.
He was standing in the midst of the crowd, being heckled by some, jostled by others. One witch spat at his feet. Hermione immediately pushed forward, wand drawn. "Get back. All of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves, accosting a man on the street like this."
"He should be rottin' in Azkaban." There was a chorus of agreements.
"He was cleared of all charges," she responded, her wand steady.
"He bought himself out of all charges, more like."
"I don't recognize a single one of you as taking up arms in the final battle against Voldemort. You did less than Mr. Malfoy and his family did to bring about that maniac's demise. Harry Potter even testified personally on his behalf during his trial. Do you honestly doubt Harry Potter's character?"
The question was met with a ripple of murmurs through the crowd. Harry's popularity was immense since the battle. No one would dare speak against him. Even Rita Skeeter only had positive things to print about him nowadays. He probably could become Minister if he had the inclination. In Hermione's opinion, it was a good thing Harry had no interest in it. The public would soon find their hero wasn't exactly infallible.
Finally one wizard spoke up. "We meant no harm, miss. It looked like you two were arguing and we didn't want you hurt."
"While I appreciate the intention, you misunderstood the situation. We had a disagreement as to who would pay for my new dress robes. He wanted to pay, but I insisted that he allow me to pay for it myself. I assure you Mr. Malfoy means me no harm. We're to be bound tomorrow."
That caused another wave of whispers through the group.
"Now please stand aside and let us pass."
The crowd began to back up, those on the fringes wandering off, probably to spread the gossip that the Golden Girl, as she'd been dubbed in the papers, was going to be bound to the disgraced Malfoy.
Hermione took Lucius' arm, protecting him from the lingering wizards more than anything else. His muscles were tense beneath her fingers as they made their way through the crowd. She nodded to those who met her eye, trying to remember that while public opinion mattered little to her, it was important for Kingsley. Though she didn't look up, she could imagine the haughty expression on Lucius' face.
When they got to the relative privacy of the alley, Hermione let out a shaky breath, her hands starting to tremble.
Lucius wrapped an arm around her waist. "Hold on, poppet," he said before apparating them to Malfoy Manor.
In a blink, they were back in the parlor and out of any danger, but the girl seemed to be shaking even harder now. Calling for Tutti, Lucius set aside the bags and sat on the sofa, scooping the girl onto his lap.
"Master called," the house-elf squeaked, blinking into the room silently.
"Tea and a mild calming draught."
The elf blinked out again and within a minute a tea service and little green bottle popped onto the sofa table.
Lucius held the girl for a moment, wondering what had happened. She'd been impressive in front of that crowd, a fearless lioness, ready to take them all on. And she'd defended him…him of all people.
But now she was falling apart.
"Miss Granger," he said, pushing her curls back over her shoulder. Her arms squeezed him tighter, but it was doubtful she knew what she was doing or just who she was clinging to.
Since he couldn't get her to let go, he poured her a cup of tea one-handed, adding extra sugar and a drop of the calming draught. He used his wand to cool the tea, just enough so she wouldn't burn herself and then brought the cup to her lips. "Drink, poppet."
She drank reflexively as he tipped the cup back. After a few sips, the trembling lessened and she relaxed against him.
It was rather pleasant, feeling a witch in his arms again. Narcissa hadn't let him hold her, hadn't let him touch her, for a long time. Their relationship had been strained before the Dark Lord's second ascension and all that occurred after only made it worse.
Eventually, the girl lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder. Her cheeks were pink, a sure improvement over her pallor a few minutes earlier.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy." She stiffened and pulled away. Reluctantly, he let her go. He leaned over to the table and selected a few sandwiches and biscuits the elves had sent along with the tea.
"Eat. I don't think you got enough lunch."
She looked at the plate he was holding out to her and then looked at him curiously. "Thanks."
"Yes, well, we can't have you going into fits at the ceremony."
He was disappointed when there was no response to this jibe. It seemed she'd typically have a smart retort.
After a long stretch of silence, he finally said, "Thank you." She just looked at him blankly for a moment. Though these weren't words he'd usually utter, they didn't require that dumbfounded expression. He elaborated. "For intervening on my behalf. I'm not permitted to draw my wand first."
"I know," she said, smiling slightly. "Like it or not, you're my family now."
"And you are mine."
She set her teacup aside. "Thank you for the tea. I was hungrier than I thought, but I'd best be going. I've packing to do and a big day tomorrow."
"Very well. Would you like to use the floo?"
"No, I think I'll apparate. The walk will do me good."
"You're certain you're up for it?"
"I'll be fine. Thanks."
Despite her protests, he walked her to the gates and for reasons he couldn't explain to himself, he kissed her hand before she disapparated.
As he walked back to the manor, he considered her words. Like it or not, you're my family now. That was the truth. But if he considered how he felt now compared to how he'd felt this morning, he was definitely leaning more towards the "like it" portion of that equation.
In the entrance hall, he was distracted from his intention to join his son and the others in planning by the sight of his former wife, standing on the staircase.
"I find it reprehensible that you are courting that girl. Forget her lack of breeding and manners. She is to be your son's wife. She will bear your son's children, your grandchildren. Will your children be aunts and uncles to his, or will they be siblings?"
"What they will be, madam, is none of your concern."
"Of course it's my concern. Draco's happiness is my concern."
"He is an adult wizard. His happiness is his own concern, and perhaps that of his wife. I do hope you will refrain from behaving like the cliché mother-in-law. I had also hoped you would restrain yourself from acting like a jealous ex-wife, but it appears my hopes are for naught."
"This is all so convenient for you, isn't it? The Ministry says jump and you say how high. Not one argument. It's like the Dark Lord all over again. You're a pathetic excuse for a wizard, Lucius Malfoy. Only happy if you're serving a master. No better than a house-elf."
"That is enough, witch. I am allowing you to remain on the property for Draco's sake, but you are trying my patience. You will remove yourself and your belongings to the dower house tonight and you will keep your distance from me if you do not want to be turned out into the street."
The witch glared at him coldly and then turned to ascend the stairs, as regally as any queen.
Lucius went back to the parlor. He needed another Firewhiskey.
Up next: A wedding...times ten.
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