Wedding Part IV: The Reception

The south gardens of the Malfoy estate had never looked so beautiful. Elegant topiaries towered above the guests. So did the wedding cake, having a prominent place in the center of the courtyard, all twelve feet of it. The Malfoy elves, each one having been glamoured to look like human butlers, were busy supplying the wedding guests with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Near Narcissa's prized roses, a string quartet played.

"They should be here soon, right Harry?" asked Ron as they patiently waited for the bride and groom to make their appearance.

"Yeah…..I reckon. How long should posing for pictures take?"

"A lot longer than you think," said Ginny. "Or don't you remember?"

Harry grinned at his wife. "Not really. My mind was elsewhere when it happened to us."

"Ugh….don't start with that again," Ron pretended to shudder. "It was bad enough the first time having to watch you two."

Harry blushed. "Watch what?"

Ron donned a maddening grin. "Oh…..you know."

Ginny choked on her wine. "I assure you, you weren't around when that happened."

Ron waved her protest aside. "Ugh, not that. But I had to watch the previews, didn't I? All that hugging…..kissing…... those goo-goo eyes you made at each other. It was nauseating."

"Says the man who can't find a girlfriend."

"Hey!" he objected. "I have a girlfriend. What do you think Lavender is?"

"An octopus?" grinned Harry. It was time for him to end the snipping between his wife and best friend. "Come on, guys. Let's get another drink and try to remember this day is about Hermione and Draco."

"Don't forget they're family now, Ronald," Ginny added. "No teasing my sister. Or her handsome husband."

The ginger third of the golden trio fumed. "What is this? Pick on Ron day?"

Ginny chuckled as she gave Harry a wink. "Every day is that, brother."

After the ceremony, Rita Skeeter wasted no time pinning down the mother of the groom.

"Narcissa, love!" she gushed in her best imitation of a sincere congratulation, "how happy you must be this day. What a triumph for your family to add to its tree a member of the golden trio."

Narcissa looked over the shoulder of Jean Granger. "I apologize for what you are about to endure," she whispered to the doctor.

Jean grinned. "Is it awful of me that I've looked forward to this?"

Narcissa's eyes twinkled. "No more than I." Turning around, she put on her best society face. "Rita, darling. So thankful you could make it. I wasn't sure you would be back in time."

Rita grimaced. "Yes….I don't know why my editor thought it necessary to send me on assignment to that horrible place."

The horrible place Rita was referring to was a high-security prison created for the worst female offenders. While Azkaban was still the ultimate nightmare for all male evil-doers, The Correctional Institution for Wayward Witches had risen to strike terror in the hearts of all lawbreaking women.

"Well, you know…...the war brought about many changes within the ministry. It had become corrupt under Fudge."

"Does that mean they should now go after everyone?"

Narcissa pursed her lips to keep from laughing at the incensed reporter. "Only those who break the law, dear."

Rita humphed. "These registrations are hardly necessary. They infringe on one's free will and expression."

"They also protect the public," Jean spoke up for the first time. "It's no different in the muggle world. The extra securities feel like an inconvenience at first, but soon one gets used to it. If it makes the world a safer place, isn't it worth it?"

Rita glared at Hermione's mother. "You can't understand. Being an animagus is not a crime."

"But being an unregistered one is," said Narcissa softly.

All pretenses gone, Rita sneered, "I suppose you are the expert on the subject of crime. By the way, how's the dear husband? Bless him, I hear Azkaban is so hard on the elder wizards. Particularly those with a certain mark on their arm."

Jean watched as Narcissa's face went pale. The vicious reporter's words had hit their mark. Coming to her aid, the good doctor pulled a small glass jar out of her pocket. "Hermione gave me this," she said. Noting the sudden, terrified look at Rita's face, she added, "Oh, I'm no witch. I can't force you into your beetle form and trap you….."

"But I can," Narcissa finished, her eyes gleaming with controlled anger. "Now, what were you asking me, dear Rita?"

The blonde reporter gulped.

"I hear Dolores Umbridge has yet to find a cellmate who can tolerate her," Narcissa spoke to Jean as if she were discussing the weather. "I wonder how a beetle would fare with a toad? What do you think, Jean?"

"I think it would be a lovely science experiment finding out, don't you think, my dear?" she simpered. Rita now knew where Hermione had gotten her thirst for vengeance.

Jean heard Narcissa mutter a strange-sounding phrase while giving her wrist a little flick. Rita instantly transformed into the smallish alter ego. Narcissa scooped her up and covered her in a cheesecloth before putting her in the jar where she buzzed angrily.

"Maybe prison isn't the place for a reporter, now that I think of it," said Narcissa, pretending to be considering options. Turning to Jean, she said, "Your husband was inquiring about all the magical plants I have in my garden this morning. It's time my Venomous Tentacula was fed; do you think he'd like to watch me while I do that?" She gave Jean a wink.

The beetle buzzed again, this time in obvious fright.

"I think he might," agreed Jean. "He is so fascinated by everything in the magical world."

"Ah, good. Well, tell him we can do that as soon as the reception is over," she said as she patted the pocket of her robes where Rita had been unceremoniously deposited.

That taken care of, she left Jean to speak to the new Minister of Magic.

What a family, Jean snickered to herself. Hermione will feel right at home.

"Hey you," Draco whispered in Hermione's ear as he held his bride. She snuggled as close as she could while they danced. Peeking over Draco's shoulder, Hermione sighed.

"What is it, love?"

"Still too many people watching," she shrugged. Then she looked at his face and was instantly rewarded with a kiss.

"I don't doubt they're staring at my wife. She IS the most beautiful witch in the world," he said smugly.

Hermione laughed. "Of course I am. Because Malfoys have to have the best, don't they?"

He grinned. "That's right."

Her face softened, her eyes filled with adoration. "I'm a Malfoy too, now."
He didn't understand what she was saying at first, but then her compliment hit him. He tightened his hold on his treasure. "Gods, I don't deserve you."

Hermione kissed him tenderly. "I feel the same way."

Standing by the fountain, Theo watched the bride and groom. He sighed wistfully at their obvious joy and love of the other. Taking one more sip of his champagne, he set the flute down and began to walk toward the area where the bridesmaids were congregating for the traditional tossing of the bridal bouquet. He kept a raven-haired beauty in his sights. While watching her, Theo recalled Draco's words and the heated exchange of looks between him and Pansy during the ceremony.

Draco said to show her how I feel. I hope he was right about that, he said to himself. Impulsive Gryffindor displays were not his forte. He tried to keep his mind still from imagining the worst, but some thoughts still slipped by him.

What if she doesn't return my feelings?

What if she laughs at me?

Theo's hands began to sweat. He absently ran his fingers through his hair. What he would give for a smoke right then, but he knew his time had run out.

"All right, ladies. Here is your chance to catch the bouquet that has been charmed with every love enhancement known to Wizardkind, said Isadora Bracken, the famous magical wedding planner for the event. "Space yourselves out so no one is hurt. Ready?"

She turned to the bride. "You may proceed with the throwing, Mrs. Malfoy."

Beside Hermione, Draco smirked. "Mrs. Malfoy. I love it."

"It would be a little late now if you didn't," Hermione replied merrily. "Here goes!"

Turning her back to the witches, she tossed her bouquet high in the air. Squeals erupted until the airborne flowers totally went against the laws of physics and made a bizarre swerve to the left to land in the hands of a handsome wizard.

Immediately the squeals cut off to be replaced with silence. Theo, flowers in hand, approached a shocked Pansy.

"Pans," he began, "I've wanted this for us since we were nine and you convinced me to try a bite of your banoffee pie."

She chuckled, although her eyes were already beginning to tear up. "You remember that?"

Theo gave her the flowers while cradling her face in his hands. "I remember everything that has you in it."

A collective romantic sigh went through the audience of watchers.

Bleeding sap, thought Ron. He was still a little bit peeved at the titled wizard.

"Please Pansy," Theo begged, his eyes eloquent and pleading, "Please say you want this for us, too. Let ours be the next wedding."

The brunette witch gulped. "Are….are you sure about this Theo? I mean…..it's not like we've been dating…..I…..I thought you'd lost interest."

"Never. There will be only one duchess for me, and you're it. Please say yes."

Pansy's tears finally escaped from her eyes as they made a silver trail down her cheeks. "It's yes, Theo."

"Sweetheart," he murmured as he gathered her into his arms, crushing the bouquet to bits, though neither of them cared at the moment.

"Well, there go your flowers, love," observed Draco, whispering so only she could hear him.

Hermione smiled. "Doesn't matter. My wealthy husband will get me more if I want them."

That earned her a hug from said husband. "Spoiled already. Just like a Malfoy."

"That again? I'm not like a Malfoy; I am a Malfoy. What must I do to convince you?"

Draco gave her a wicked grin. "Ask me again tonight."

Hermione's father was having the time of his life speaking to the numerous wizards and witches at the reception, even though many of them didn't know what to make of the inquisitive muggle. When Jean and Narcissa finally made it back to him, he was discussing various modes of transportation with Arthur Weasley.

"So…..I imagine flying carpets would violate your secrecy rules."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, well….now that you mention that….It's one of the reasons apparition became so popular. "

Richard shivered. "Ugh….I did that once with Hermione, you know. Quite a horrible experience. I vomited afterward."

"I did too, the first time I apparated," said Hermione as she and Draco walked up, arm in arm, to where their parents were standing.

"There's my little cabbage!" Dr. Granger exclaimed in delight.

"Oh, Dad….really," Hermione blushed while Draco grinned at her discomfort.

"Allow your bereft father his endearments," he replied, trying to look forlorn, but failing miserably. "My only child is leaving me this day."

"Richard, I understand your feelings completely," added Narcissa, giving her son a pointed look.

Draco rolled his eyes while Hermione asked her mother, "Well? Aren't you going to jump on the 'make them feel guilty' bandwagon?"

"Who, me? Not at all," she said breezily. "I've looked forward to this day."

"Jean! You're not helping," Richard complained.

"Oh yes, I am. The sooner our daughter goes, the sooner we'll have grandchildren. Did you forget that little perk?" she asked with a gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, good Lord," Hermione moaned.

Dr. Granger's face was alit with mischief. "That's right, the thought did slip my mind. Draco, my man, you have your orders. Wave your wand and give me some grandchildren to spoil."

This time, it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "It doesn't quite work that way, Daddy."

"Are you sure? It did when I was your age," he said with a devilish wink.

Narcissa laughed. "I'm sure my son is very adept in fancy wand-work."

"Would everyone quit talking about my husband's body?" Hermione said petulantly. "Although I can see why his wand would be a topic of discussion. It is rather impressive."

Beside her, Draco chuckled.

Richard grimaced. "Your father doesn't want to hear his little girl speak of such things."

Hermione snorted. "You don't want me talking about it, you just want me to do something with it."

"I still don't see why you can't produce children the way I was telling your mother."

"What way is that, Richard?" Narcissa was curious.

"Oh…..you know. Just popping them out with an abracadabra," he said as he snapped his fingers, indicating how he thought it should be handled.

Narcissa began to cough, having choked on the sip of champagne she'd just taken. Draco took one look at Hermione and began to laugh, doubling over with mirth.

Hermione just stood there, crimson-faced while her father grinned at the effect he'd had on his daughter's regal husband and mother-in-law, until Harry came up to her and said, "It's time, 'Mione. The portkey is beginning to glow."

All joking stopped as goodbye hugs were given out to their families. But right before they departed, Hermione left their parents with this parting sally.

"Just so you know, I WAS abracadabra'ed with the Weasley's fertility, thanks to Ginny's blessing, so a grandchild may come sooner than you think."

It was hard to say whose shocked expression was the most comical.

But Harry thought it was Draco's.