A/N: Here is Chapter 12! And a big thank you to Dancing-Souls for all of your lovely reviews! (Thanks to everyone else who reviewed as well!)

Disclaimer: All rights to J.K. Rowling for any material used from Harry Potter

Chapter 12 – Dressing for Disaster

"This is the Malfoy family tree?" Hermione asked in some surprise. She remembered the tree that hung in a cluttered room at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Unlike that room, this one was filled with familial photos and artefacts all displayed on shelves and pedestals around the room.

"Yes," Narcissa replied absently as she continued to add names to the guest list for the wedding. Eventually she came to a halt where Hermione was looking at Draco's name etched into the tree.

"So after the wedding will I be..." Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

"No," Narcissa cut her off. "You are a Muggleborn so you won't be added. Since Draco is an only child it will be the end of this branch of the Malfoy line." Hermione could not say she was surprised after seeing the holes blasted through the Black tree. However, given that there were already rumours surfacing about the next phase of the Marriage Law in which a child was required of each couple, she was surprised that the Malfoys would disown their grandchildren should she be the mother.

"It all seems a little extreme to me," Hermione said trying not to ruin the progress she was making. "But maybe I only think that because I am a Muggleborn."

"Well you won't need to worry about that for much longer," Narcissa said as she returned to her list with renewed focus.

"So I'll be considered a pureblood, but that is still not good enough to be put on the Malfoy tree?" Hermione asked.

"When you put it like that..." Narcissa said and then paused. "Don't be offended there is nothing you can do about your parentage."

"Which is exactly why it is wrong to judge people on it!" Hermione snapped. Narcissa pursed her lips in agitation, especially since it was clear that Hermione had outsmarted her. Hermione regretted losing her temper later though, when she was forced to choose linens for the wedding ceremony and reception. Hermione knew Narcissa was punishing her with constant criticisms of every colour she chose. Eggshell was too stark. Crème was overdone. Maize...oh mondieu!

That was how Hermione spent several days of her winter holiday: sitting through countless tastings and endless questions regarding her theme and colour schemes and her thoughts on floral arrangements – would orchids be too avant-garde for a winter wedding?

"I think red roses are classic" Narcissa mused, "but they will clash with the wintery colour scheme and we've already ordered these pale blue table runners."

"What about white roses?" Hermione asked, thinking that they could not clash with anything.

"Absolutely not!" Narcissa exclaimed as she turned from an arrangement of carnations. "White roses symbolize death. They are traditionally used for funerals. I never believed in divination, but that cannot be a good omen." Hermione went silent, once again longing for the evening so she could escape the wedding planning.

"Carnations are out of the question" Narcissa declared tossing aside a white and yellow bouquet. It whizzed pass a house elf who looked relieved that she had not thrown a vase. "They're much too cheap for a Malfoy wedding. You'll likely make the front page of the Prophet, and they have been bombarding Lucius with offers for a feature spread on the event."

"A feature in The Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked numbly. Narcissa confirmed it with obvious delight, barely mentioning that the details were not finalized. Hermione tuned her out as she continued to discuss the importance of emphasizing their wealth and status without looking tacky. Hermione browsed through what seemed like hundreds of floral centrepieces, bouquets, and boutonnieres that had been prepared in the largest ballroom. Hermione had never seen so many types of flowers in one place in her entire life. She found herself repeatedly drawn to an arrangement of blue and white orchids, it was not too large or extravagant but it was eye catching and surprisingly delicate looking given its bold colour.

"What about these?" Hermione suggested hesitantly. Narcissa had shot down every one of her suggestions so far.

"Orchids," Narcissa said thoughtfully. 'They aren't very traditional, usually I would lean towards roses, but since you chose blue as your theme colour..." Narcissa adjusted one of the blossoms, her expression considering. "It might work, given the unique circumstances of your betrothal. And I must admit this arrangement is breathtaking." Hermione could not agree more and it matched the winter inspiration perfectly. The blue and white orchids were spiralled around a tall vase filled with real crystals and fairy dust that gave off a faint shimmering glow.

"It would complement those blue table runners nicely," Narcissa said. "Let me look up the symbolism of orchids, I don't want any bad luck on the day of the wedding."For someone who did not believe in Divination, Hermione noticed that Narcissa was quite superstitious. Narcissa hurried off to retrieve her guidebook of flowers and their meanings while Hermione rummaged around for the blue table runner. She had just finished arranging the sample table when Narcissa returned.

"Here it is the Orchidaceae family," Narcissa read. "It signifies beauty and elegance. In Victorian England they were considered a luxury because only the elite could afford to have them shipped there. They symbolize fertility, which is good for a new marriage." Hermione tried not to blush as Narcissa continued excitedly, "and they have a section specifically for blue orchids! Blue orchids are rare and luxurious, they are symbolic of strength, charm, calmness, and beauty of great value. I think they are the perfect choice. The centerpieces look lovely as they are and boutonnieres shouldn't be a problem, but I'll work on somedesigns for the ceremony and your bouquet."

Narcissa quickly became engaged arranging flowers and estimating how many they would need. Hermione barely hesitated before saying "if you don't need any help I'm heading to the ballroom." Narcissa waved Hermione off with an absentminded smile. Hermione was pretty sure Narcissa was glad to be rid of her. Especially since whenever Hermione said she was going to the ballroom she really meant she was meeting Draco in the ballroom.

Hermione bounded up the stairs eagerly. It wasn't that she did not like Narcissa, she was much more bearable than Lucius, but all the wedding planning was driving Hermione crazy. All they did was discuss fabric and themes and other topics that were of no use to the Order, which Moody was sure to tell Hermione when she returned. At least her time with Draco was more productive and by far more enjoyable.

Every night after dinner Hermione and Draco would escape to the ballroom where Draco was still trying to find a weapon for Hermione. It was the only time of day when Hermione felt herself. She treaded carefully around Narcissa and Lucius and was only a polite shadow of herself. But then they retired to the parlor, whereaccordingto Draco Narcissa would play the piano or embroider or do something else expected of refined ladies while Lucius attended to business letters, and Hermione felt free to be herself. She was surprised at how well Draco had come to know her throughout their years at Hogwarts. She was constantly unnerved by his knowledge of her, especially since he was so different than the boy she grew up was a fast learner though, so it wasn't long before she knew more about Draco than he would have liked.

Hermione waited impatiently in the ballroom, curious as to what Draco weapon Draco would attempt to teach her today. So far swords, spears, and throwing knives were out. Hermione's patience turned into anxiety, Draco was rarely late and when he was it usually had something to do with Voldemort. Hermione was seriously considering asking Narcissa when he finally arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," he said pulling off his travelling cloak and tossing it aside. His nose was tinged pink and there were snowflakes glistening in his silvery blond hair.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked, and Draco looked at her curiously. "I mean usually when you're late it's because of the Dark Lord."

"Oh no," Draco waved away her concerns. "But apparently there is some new prophecy baby that he is paranoid about," Draco scoffed. Hermione looked up in surprise, but reminded herself that not all prophecies came to pass. She knew how preoccupied Voldemort had been with the prophecy about him and Harry and wondered if someone was trying to use his obsession as a distraction.

"Anyway, I had some personal errands to run today," Draco continued on, clearly unconcerned with this latest piece of gossip. "One of them was finding a weapon for you." He turned away and pulled out a long gold cord wound into a loop. "I bought you a whip."

"You bought me a whip!" Hermione eyed the golden cord again in disbelief. "I could never whip someone. It's crude and degrading!"

"I expected that reaction" Draco said calmly, "but I am running out of ideas and I figured a whip was a better option than a dagger which happens to be Aunt Bella's weapon of choice. And swords were a complete disaster."

"I don't see how that solves my inability to whip people," Hermione interrupted.

"I had a revelation while I was out today" Draco replied. "We've been focusing on technique so much that we have overlooked the key problem. Are you actually going to be able to hurt anyone?"

Hermione pursed her lips. Draco was far too aware of Hermione's hesitations when it came to violence and unfortunately it often drew attention to her true opinion of Voldemort's plans. "Hurting people I can handle, it was murder I had an issue with," Hermione said recalling her disastrous first Death Eater meeting. Draco smiled at her in a way Hermione could only describe as indulgent. She frowned at his obvious disbelief, even though she knew he was probably right.

"Good" he replied "because you are going to have to whip people, but since whips are so loud and intimidating you'll only have to do it occasionally to avoid suspicion." Draco handed her the whip and Hermione unwound it tentatively. "Also whips require much less physical skill than the other weapons we've tried."

Draco finished his explanation and looked at her expectantly. Hermione realized he was waiting for her to try it out. She tightened her grip on the cool gold handle and jerked her arm up and then brought the whip in a sharp downwards motion. A satisfying cracking sound echoed throughout the ballroom.

Hermione felt empowered. It was a similar feeling to the first time she cast a spell. At the time nothing seemed more natural or effortless to her. She cracked the whip again and again.

High off the moment, Hermione turned to the balcony doors and on a complete whim directed her whip to the handle. She felt the cord tightened around the latch and gave a sharp tug. The handle gave easily and an icy winter breeze pushed the doors open. Hermione went out on the balcony only slightly aware of Draco behind her. She was cold outside without a cloak, but she took a deep breath savoring the moment and ignoring the sharp pain in her lungs.

She felt unbelievably free. Free of Moody's order and inquisitions. Free of Voldemort's threats and endless expectations. And most importantly free of inhibitions. She had Draco to thank for it all really. She turned to find him standing closer than she realized and her arms were around his neck without a second thought. Of all the people in the world, Hermione never imagined Draco Malfoy being the one to set her free. It was a terrifying thought. One she would examine more carefully later, when she was not so exhilarated.

After a moment Draco's arms came to rest on her back, but Hermione could sense his hesitation. She knew after she rejected his last kiss that she would need to take the lead now if that was what she wanted. And on that cold balcony, Hermione found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him for real. Not to surprise him or because people were watching. She could feel him watching her with bated breath, waiting for her to decide whether or not to close that distance between them.

Hermione was relieved when he returned the kiss willingly. She had almost expected him to turn away just to humiliate her as she had done to him. But no, he was pressing his lips against hers with increasing pressure as he tunneled his fingers through her wild hair. When he pressed his tongue against her lips, Hermione didn't resist. She met his tongue with her own, and heard him emit a small moan. Breathless Hermione pulled away and felt blood rushing to her cheeks in a telltale blush.

Then the moment was over and the silence unbearable as their actions caught up with them. Draco muttered something unintelligible before leaving. Hermione pulled herself together and was not surprised when she found the ballroom empty.

Hermione closed the balcony doors and retrieved the whip from the floor. On a closer look, Hermione realized it was actually a golden snake with rubies embedded where the eyes should be. Hermione could not help but smile at the collaboration of their school houses. She was so distracted that she jumped when she heard Lucius enter the ballroom.

"Malfoy's not here," Hermione said quickly. Lucius merely raised his eyebrows and turned his attention to the whip in her hands.

"I see you like the whip," he commented "it is a well-crafted instrument." Hermione had no idea how to respond to that so she simply nodded. "I have to admit I didn't think you would like it given your heritage, whips are a common discipline tool for slaves you know. But Draco insisted and put quite a bit of effort into finding something to suit you. I see it paid off."

Hermione was impressed that Lucius managed to insult her blood status in the middle of his explanation, but she should have known better than to be surprised. She was even more surprised that Draco had put so much effort into finding something for her. Hermione found herself smiling as she left the ballroom. She never thought a weapon could be a sweet gift, but Draco had proved otherwise. Hermione masked her emotions as she entered their room, knowing that Draco would be in bed already. Things were getting much too complicated for Hermione's liking. She should not find him sweet. And she should not be imagining what it would be like to kiss him again.

After weaponry they moved onto the Dark Arts and defensive spells, and though Hermione was the brightest witch of her age Draco had a lot to teach was shocked at her own interest in the Dark Arts. She still found most of it repulsive, but fascinating as well. She was especially interested in the traces it left behind. She remembered Harry telling her how Dumbledore found Voldemort's horcrux in the cave by finding the traces his dark magic left behind.

They also worked on defensive spells, but after all her practice with the DA Hermione was an expert at them. She even managed to teach him how to produce a patronus, although he refused to tell her what his happy thought was no matter how much she pestered did tell her that he had not been able to produce a patronus when his mother had tried to teach him after his fifth year, leaving Hermione with the impression that his happy memory was a recent one. His patronus, she learned, was a wolverine which she knew was from the same family as otters.

On one of the last days of winter break Hermione was sipping her coffee as Draco piled more eggs onto his plate when Narcissa entered the room in an excited frenzy. Lucius looked up over his copy of The Daily Prophet curiously, but she brushed by him and grabbed Hermione instead.

"The dresses are here!" Her delighted words were met with silence from all three occupants.

"What dresses?" Hermione asked cautiously. She had never seen Narcissa quite this excited, except maybe when she was bragging about the wedding feature to the Parkinsons.

"Wedding dresses of course," Narcissa exclaimed. "You need to pick one out before you go back to school so we can make any necessary alterations."

"I thought you could choose the dress," Hermione said quickly, and just to be safe she added "you picked out such a lovely one for Christmas."

"That is absolutely out of the question," Narcissa said. "It is your wedding dress, it has to say something about you and your marriage." Hermione looked to Draco for support, but he and Lucius had mysteriously vanished from the dining room. Hermione sighed in defeat. She'd always thought Harry and Ron were stubborn, but they had nothing on Narcissa Malfoy.

By mid-afternoon Hermione felt like she was drowning in satin, or silk, she honestly could not tell the difference any more. She had tried on what felt like hundreds of gowns, she had lost count after fifty.

"Hermione try this one," Narcissa called through the door as she handed Hermione a dress with elaborate embroidery that weighed almost as much as Hermione did. Hermione carefully lugged the dress over her body. She pulled back the curtain on the temporary dressing area that had been set up and allowed Madam Malkin to lace up the back of the had hired her for the day and Hermione was somewhat relieved to have someone familiar helping her, even if she was pulling the dress too tight. Hermione teetered onto the pedestal in front of the mirror. The dress was too heavy and too tight, but Narcissa and Madam Malkinseemed to love it. The dress was covered in elaborate silver stitching and there was a swirl of sapphires sewn in from her left shoulder that circled around her body.

"Isn't it a bit over the top?" Hermione asked while struggling to remain upright. "I don't think I could even manage to walk in it all day." Narcissa sighed theatrically and went off to find herself a calming draught. Madam Malkin was a little more productive and pulled out a simpler dress for Hermione to try on.

Hermione was relieved once the ornate dress was safely back on the rack and turned to the dress Madam Malkin had suggested. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and lace bodice. It was the most classic dress Hermione had tried on so far and for the first time the reality of the wedding hit her. It was the sort of dress she imagined her mum picking out for her and the thought brought tears to Hermione's eyes. She stood there unmoving as the tears slid down her face and tried to hold back her sobs to avoid being tried to find the source of her tears. It was not grief or pain or anger, the only word that seemed to suit it was despair.

Unlike most girls Hermione had never spent much time imagining her wedding, but in the back of her mind her parents always played a part in it. She'd always assumed her mother would help her find a dress and her father would give her away. Instead she had an exasperated Narcissa 'helping' her choose a dress and no one to walk her down the aisle. Narcissa had suggested Lucius for that job, and both Hermione and Lucius looked so horrified at the concept that Narcissa agreed that Hermione could walk down alone. Hermione had never felt so isolated.

Hermione dried her tears quickly and waited a moment for the redness to subside before showing Narcissa and Madam Malkin her dress. "What do you think of that one dear?" Madam Malkin asked without turning from her search for more dresses. Hermione actually smiled, but did not reply. Instead she stood before the mirror and swished the skirt around imagining herself dancing in it, which she could not have done in half of the previous dresses. "Is everything alright dear?" Madam Malkin asked turning around, then she let out a soft "oh."

Madam Malkin quickly returned to Hermione's side and began pinning the dress. She then sorted through piles of sheer white fabric before selecting a veil. She gently placed the goblin made tiara Hermione was supposed to wear on her head along with a veil. Hermione could not tear her gaze from the mirror, and as a result had to fight off the tears that had begun to sting her eyes.

"Alright, I'm back," Narcissa announced. "We are going to find you a dress Hermione, even if we need to pull you out of school to try on more-" Narcissa's sentence was cut short as she caught sight of Hermione. "I see you found your dress." Narcissa's words were simple, but they were a huge relief to Hermione who thought she was going to have to persuade made a fuss over arranging the train and smoothing out her skirts, and Hermione was pretty sure she saw her wipe away a tear. She felt instantly guilty for betraying her, even though she had yet to tell Moody anything substantial. Deep down Hermione knew her upcoming marriage was not Narcissa's fault, it was Voldemort's.

As much as Hermione loved her dress, she was relieved to take it off and escape the wedding madness. She escaped to the green house where she continued to work on potions for Voldemort. It took all her effort to resist botching them up on purpose, but she would be no use as a spy if they suspected she was still loyal to the Order. Hermione felt no desire to see Draco that night; she was much too preoccupied with her own thoughts about their wedding. Eventually she made her way to the ballroom where he was already waiting for her.

"I was thinking we could take a break from the defensive spells today," Draco said once she arrived. Hermione had been eager for their usual routine. She had experienced enough change for one day. "I know you are trying to learn Occlumency."

Hermione froze. Occlumency was supposed to be a secret. If Draco knew she was trying to protect her thoughts, he would know she had something to hide. "Yes," Hermione said slowly as she tried to gauge his reaction.

"Don't look so nervous," he said smiling, "I know there are things in your head that you don't want other people prying into." As he said this, he tapped her temple gentling, allowing his hand to caress her face. Hermione's heart sped up, and he continued.

"I learned it too, so I thought I could help you practice. I can't imagine how hard it has been learning it on your own. Aunt Bella only taught me last year, but it takes much longer to learn without someone to practice with. I've been working on Legilimency so this will help me too."

Hermione hesitated. Having Draco attempt to delve into her mind could not be a good idea. The whole point of learning Occlumency was to prevent that from happening. But Draco was a beginner Legilimens, and Hermione was quite sure she could handle it. Unlike Harry she made sure to empty her mind every night. Hermione finally agreed, mostly because she knew it would look suspicious if she did not comply.

"Okay, whenever you're ready then," Hermione said. Draco gave her a moment to prepare herself and Hermione imagined her mind was a piece of parchment and the more she focused the words blurred until the sheet was blank. She shut out all the horrible memories from that day and before and trained her mind to be calm and collected.

His entrance into her mind was less forceful than Voldemort's had been. She was almost led astray by his gentle probing and for a moment she was eleven years old again tearing open her Hogwarts letter. She could feel the excitement and confusion as though it was only yesterday. Next she felt a strong feeling of contentment before she felt the familiar fur in her arms. She was holding Crookshanks in Diagon Alley and he was the most precious cat Hermione had ever seen. Hermione realized her mistake quickly though and pushed the memory away, Draco left with it and Hermione's mind was her own once more.

"Not bad," Draco commented, "I only got into two memories and they were both older."

"Is it more difficult to get into older memories?" Hermione asked. She had read nothing about the difference between accessing earlier memories.

"It doesn't make much of a difference to a skilled Legilimens," Draco replied, "but as an Occlumens it takes a greater effort to protect older memories because our minds were less guarded when we were younger." Hermione wondered if she would be able to see any of Draco's memories. She recalled that happening when Snape was training Harry.

Hermione was distracted when Draco entered her mind a second time, and as a result she felt him navigate towards more recent memories. She was at the burrow and a distant feeling of relief washed over her from the knowledge of receiving so many O. . But under the relief Hermione felt a rising sense of panic. That was a recent memory and she felt Draco plunging forward into her mind again. This time Hermione was helpless against him and she was transported to the greenhouse at Hogwarts. She could tell it was sixth year and her heart plummeted when she heard herself telling Ron she wanted to attend Slughorn's party with him.

Draco pulled out of her mind sharply and Hermione stumbled backwards. She was breathing too heavy and the back of her neck was damp with perspiration. Draco looked angry. Hermione could tell by the set of his shoulders and his tightly pursed lips. "Let's try again shall we?" He said in a calm tone that displayed none of his true jealousy.

He did not wait for Hermione this time and just plunged right in. Hermione was far more aware of him this time, but no matter how hard she tried she could not force him out of her thoughts. He was a better Legilimens than she had expected, and her training in Occlumency paled in comparison. The memories were recent. Too recent. The memories Hermione knew she had to keep hidden. Harry at the Burrow a snitch in one hand, the sword of Gryffindor in the other.

Then Draco went back further and settled into a single memory. Possibly the most dangerous of all the memories Hermione possessed. She was in the common room. Harry had just returned from one of his meetings with Dumbledore. Hermione knew what was coming next. Harry was going to tell them about Voldemort's Horcruxes. Hermione panicked and just before that secret word left Harry's lips Hermione pulled up the strongest most recent memory she had. She felt Draco's presence, insistent and irritated, as she cried alone in her wedding dress. The memory focused for a moment. And when it was clear Hermione had no strength to shut Draco out, he left of his own accord.

Hermione hit the ground and could not stop the sob from escaping her lips. It was all too much. She'd almost ruined everything. This was the second time she had almost revealed Harry's secret. She wondered why that particular memory came up so easily, when it was the one she was trying so hard to protect. On top of that, all of her emotions from trying on wedding dresses felt new again. She felt raw and exposed.

She wanted to blame Draco, was tempted to shoot canaries at him, but when he got down beside her and held her close Hermione found herself holding on tight. She buried her head in his neck and tried to calm down. He felt warm and familiar, but it was a different feeling from when she hugged Harry or Ron. She felt hyperaware of him. His scent, the feel of his breath on her neck, and his thumbs drawing reassuring circles on her back.

Hermione knew eventually he would ask her about that memory. She could not say how long they stayed like that, sprawled on the floor not saying a word. But when she pulled away Draco did not ask her that inevitable question and Hermione began to have hope. Maybe she was not alone after all.


Coming Up in Till Death Do Us Part:

When he arrived in the formal sitting room, Rita Skeeter was already settled in an armchair next to the fireplace.