February 13th

Lucius was experiencing something which he couldn't quite put into words. It was the oddest feeling he could remember having, reminding him of his long lost childhood. He couldn't sit still, he had scarcely been able to eat, and he couldn't make himself scowl for the life of him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was feeling giddy. The idea worried him, and he nervously strode over to the mirror to take a critical look at himself. He had hoped it wouldn't show, but it did.

By Merlin, it did! He was smiling against his will and his eyes, they were too bright - filled with some sort of wild excitement. He felt nervous and restless and yet looked decidedly content. Salazar, this won't do!

Lucius tried his best to school his features into some sort of dignified expression, but failed miserably. After several minutes, he gave up. He looked at himself and, instead of fighting it, allowed the feeling to engross him. Immediately, his smile widened and his eyes actually sparkled. How humiliating. But instead of scowling at the indignity of it, he chuckled. Why not, after all? If he was to be truly giddy once in his life, let it be on his wedding day.

Another hour, and he would be hers and she would be his. Another hour, and their lives would be irrevocably intertwined and promises would have been given - and he knew with complete certainty that they would never be broken.

Let it be, then. At least his hair looked good, and thankfully, no one was around to see the way his reflection clapped its hands excitedly in the mirror.

But suddenly, the door was jerked open. Lucius rolled his eyes: his son never bothered to knock. The only reason Lucius didn't complain was that Draco had had picked that particular bad habit up from him.

"Father?" Draco stopped in his tracks, staring in surprise at his father and his strange expression.

"I know, I know", Lucius muttered. Somehow, the words came out sounding cheerful rather than cool and dismissing.

Draco smirked knowingly as he closed the door behind him. "Don't you look pretty today!"

"Watch your mouth, Draco. There's a day tomorrow as well - make sure you survive it", Lucius chastised cheerfully. "Besides, your turn will come."

"Are you saying that I'll look as - as dignified when I get married?" Draco asked.

It didn't escape Lucius that he squirmed slightly, presumably at the allusion to his own difficult love life. He turned more fully toward his son. "If you love her more than your own life", he said seriously, "then yes, I'm afraid so."

Draco nodded uncomfortably and went over to the side table to pick up their boutonniéres.

"Did you see Hermione?" Lucius asked as he accepted one of them and turned back to the mirror to attach it in his buttonhole.

"Are you kidding?" Draco snorted. "She's so heavily guarded, I doubt she'll even make it to the ceremony."

"I rather count on her guards to assist in dragging her there so nothing disturbs Potter's plan", Lucius mused.

"Afraid of being jilted at the altar?"

"Hardly."

Draco rolled his eyes, but remained silent for a moment as he finished his work with his own boutonniére. "But ", he resumed, "I did manage to get your note through to her."

"Ah", Lucius's eyes brightened. He slowly turned from his mirror to regard his son. "Any responses?"

Draco shook his head. "Do I even want to ask?" he sighed, probably suspecting something of the nature of the message passed between the spouses to be.

"Just a little history lesson", Lucius smirked. "Something to warm her up and ease her nerves."

And put a lovely blush on her cheeks.

Lucius looked himself over in the mirror one final time, and checked over Draco as well, pleased to fina him looking presentable, and was then ready to leave. It was time! He could even hear sound of the musicians tuning heir instruments through the window. Excitement flooded him once again, but just as he was putting his hand on the door handle, Draco cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Astoria's here", he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Oh?" Lucius responded in a carefully neutral tone, observing his son's expressions closely. "You went to see her, then?"

Draco simply nodded.

"Hermione will be thrilled", Lucius offered.

"I - I went to see her yesterday, to tell her she couldn't come", Draco said. "That I didn't want her to come, or even see her again. I was going to tell her to take her insecurities and stuff it."

Lucius remained silent as Draco awkwardly scratched the back of his hair. A red tint coloured his cheeks in a manner Lucius had not often seen.

"But I ended up begging her to attend", Draco admitted. "So she's coming", Draco continued awkwardly, glancing up at his father. "Just for the ceremony."

"Hermione will push her to stay for sinner", Lucius predicted.

"I couldn't as that of her", Draco replied, looking a little ashamed. "She's beating herself up about what happened and couldn't bear it. And I - I don't know what to think", he stuttered. "She should be shamed of the way she's handled everything, but at the same time I can't stand it. I just can't stand to see her in pain."

Lucius felt his strange mood overpower him again, that silly happiness he couldn't shake off. He walked over to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. "And why is that, do you think?"

Draco grimaced. "I think you know why", he muttered.

Lucius had longed for the day he would be honoured with his son's confidence and be given the opportunity to offer fatherly advice of true importance. But now that the opportunity presented itself, Lucius (in spite of a having surprisingly good stock of sound advice on the topic of love and relationships) found himself saying nothing more than: "I'm glad she agreed to come".

It was enough to put a small smile on Draco's face, and together, they finally went downstairs to wait for the ceremony to begin.

Hermione was seated in a tent close to the gazebo where she - within minutes - was to become Lucius's wife. The air was clear and fresh, her dress comfortable and yet ethereal in its simple elegance, her hands were shaking with anticipation and she longed for Lucius. She hadn't seen him since the morning, when she'd been dragged off by Ginny to go through all kinds of beautifying procedures. They'd done a good job, if her own judgement was anything to go by: her hair was properly tamed and interwoven with flowers, the dress she'd picked out a few weeks ago fit her perfectly - making her look like a woman with child rather than An oversized whale, as she'd feared, and her complexion was brightened by equal measures of excitement and soft makeup.

But now that she'd been left alone for a few minutes, she was getting anxious. She had no second thoughts, of course, but nervous, eager, full of butterflies and joyful anticipation. She sat there, trying to breathe slowly and relax while listening to the murmurs and sounds of steps outsides. The musicians were tuning their instruments, the guests were taking their seats, her baby appeared just as eager as she, judging by its impatient movements inside her - and minute by minute the fixed upon time came closer.

Hermione smiled at the idea and amused herself by trying to distinguish to whom each voice that passed outside belonged to. There were the Weasleys - given away by Arthur's low murmurings and Ron's loud surprise at finding himself at Malfoy Manor again. And there, she was sure she heard Harry mumble something - probably to the Aurors he had appointed to watch over them this day. She couldn't hear Ginny, so she was probably off somewhere scolding one of the staff. Lucius should hire her as matron to this place.

And there... Hermione's eyes watered. There were Monica and Andrew Granger. Her parents.

They'd been invited even though they wouldn't understand the significance of the event and would witness a lot of magic they didn't know existed. Hermione half-hoped it would make them finally remember her, though she had started to think it was a lost cause. He had to accept that they might never remember, so she had forced herself to be happy they were here at all.

And there - Hermione's heart beat faster - there was Lucius's voice! A part of her had worried that he'd spend the night brooding about possible misfortunes that might befall them, or that he'd changed his mind for some reason. But he was here, and he sounded happy.

Since her father couldn't walk her down the aisle, she and Lucius had decided to go together. He had said something utterly sweet about keeping her by his side wherever he went henceforth - but then tried to cover up his romantic notions by blaming his fear of her having an accident. He claimed he didn't trust her ability to manoeuvre herself across a lawn in a wedding gown while unable to see her feet.

"Hermione?" Ginny slipped into the tent with a big smile on her face. "Are you ready? You can still dump him and get out of here, you know."

Lucius's voice immediately called out: "I'll throw you out yet, Ginevra!"

"I'm ready", Hermione laughed, slowly standing up.

Ginny helped her with the final touches to her dress, making sure her curls were exactly where she wanted them, and then opened the tent flap so Hermione could exit. The bright February sun blinded her for a second, but when she opened her eyes, Lucius was standing before her. For a good few seconds, he said nothing. He simply stared at her, dragging his eyes from head to toe - until he seemed to recall the need for breath and exhaled in a half-chuckle.

"You're -" He shook his head at his own lack of words, and stepped closer to her and put one hand on her belly. He was rewarded with a kick right in his palm, and smiled before he leaned closer to Hermione. "You look like a goddess", he whispered, so quietly Draco and Ginny wouldn't be able to hear him. "What are you doing here with me, mere mortal?"

"What happened to Lucius Malfoy, the self-crowned king of everything?" Hermione smiled.

"He took one look at you and passed out", Lucius answered, kissing her hand.

Hermione blushed, happy to feel his lips on her skin. Which reminded her... She narrowed her eyes at her soon-to-be husband. "About that little message you sent to me -"

Lucius smirked knowingly, but kept his voice innocent. "Yes?"

"A family tradition? Really?" She couldn't stop the heat from creeping up her cheeks. Again. What he had written in that note had been utterly indecent.

"I swear on my father's grave, my love", Lucius grinned. "Do you think you're up for it?"

Hermione tried to glare at him, but doubted she looked very frightening. She couldn't believe they were discussing this in front of Draco and Ginny, who were watching their hushed conversation with curiosity.

"It took me fifteen minutes to get Ginny to stop pestering me about it", Hermione hissed.

"Really? Why would that be?" Lucius asked. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the becoming blush on your cheeks, would it?"

"Not at all", Hermione pouted. Lucius looked too smug for his own good, and Hermione realised there was only one thing to do. They couldn't enter into matrimony with him thinking he had the upper hand, so she needed to throw him off balance. "But I n the end, the only way to get her to shut up was to tell her exactly how I got my wand back from Patrick."

Lucius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And how did you do that?"

Hermione leaned forward to whisper in his ear: "By pinching his butt."

Lucius glared at her with just the right amount of uncertainty. "You didn't."

Hermione smiled sweetly, and waved at the musicians to start before she took Lucius's arm: "Oh yes, I did."

The ceremony took forever and yet passed in a few moments. Every word, every movement, every tone stood out, and yet passed in a blur. A thousand thoughts passed through her mind as she held tightly on to Lucius's arm and smiled at the familiar faces around her.

They were all here, her most beloved: the Weasleys, her mother and father, Harry and Ron, Luna, Neville, Astoria and Draco... Together with the joy of seeing them, however, was sadness. She couldn't help missing the many who had passed away before their time. What would Remus and Tonks have said, had they known? She imagined they would have been among the first to understand. Sirius? He would have been opposed to it to the last, no doubt - and George would have made crude jokes, and possibly pulled some sort of prank with Fred (she would have killed them!). And Dumbledore. Hermione smiled. He wouldn't have had so say anything, she knew he would have given them his blessing.

When the minister told them to, they took their vows and exchanged rings, and then turned to face each other. Lucius's bright grey eyes were fixed on her as he offered her his hand, and spoke the ancient words:

"I am yours. I claim you as mine."

Looking into his shining grey eyes, Hermione put her hand in his. It was warm and firm. Safe.

"I am yours", she responded. "I claim you as mine."

The minister waved his wand, and a warm, wonderful sensation enveloped their hands and a golden light momentarily took the form of a rope that tightened around their wrists. Even if she had wanted it, she couldn't have pulled her hand away at that moment. They were bound together.

Finally.

When the ceremony was completed, they walked back down the aisle together and were granted a few minutes alone in the tent as the small crowd gathered outside, waiting to congratulate them. As soon as they were inside, Lucius pulled Hermione to his chest and kissed her with all his might. Her lips moulded into his, and he was pleased to find her breathing quickening in response. Soon, he felt her fingers slipping inside his cravat, while his hands somehow travelled to her decolletage.

Too soon, he made himself pull back. He had something to say to her, and mustn't let himself get distracted.

"Thank you", he whispered in an exhale as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"What for?" Hermione asked with an amused expression.

He couldn't resist kissing her again, relishing in the way her lips curved into a smile against his mouth. But it must be said now, as his very first promise to her as his wife. He broke away again and caught her hands in both of his.

"I know that you sometimes feel as if you are broken", he began. "As if there is nothing more to you but wounds and unhealed cuts." She looked confused and pained. "It's not true, of course, but I want you to know that I cherish your wounds and your weaknesses."

Hermione's mouth fell open, and for a moment she simply stared at him. "Why would you do that?" she asked hoarsely.

He lifted his hand to caress her cheek.

"Because you offered them to me", he answered. "Somehow and somewhere along the way, you traded your wounds for the sad shreds that were left of me, and I'd rather spend a lifetime healing your wounds than take any of my wreckage back."

One of Hermione's hands came up to rest upon his, pressing his palm even closer to her cheek.

"You're not broken, Lucius", she said, with eyes full of tears. "Not beyond repair."

Her gaze wandered across his face: his eyes, his temple, his jaw. When it touched upon his lips, Lucius leaned in and kissed her again, holding her as tightly as he dared. She was his now. His! That overwhelming glee threatened to overtake him again, but he was not yet finished. He had one more thing to say.

"If you ever leave me -" he began.

Hermione tried to protest, but he silenced her by putting a finger on her lips. He took a deep breath, and started again:

"If you ever need to leave me again, I want you to know that you can always have me back. You only have to ask." He shook his head. "No, not even ask. Just come back, and I will be yours. You can leave as many times as you find necessary for your sanity and mine – but you can always have me back."

He met her gaze, taking in the lovely rich colour of her eyes, the golden flecks, the tear that spilled over and began to trickle down her cheek. And he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he was finally where he was supposed to be. After all - what good was pride when all he wanted was her? What use was dignity when he could be happy? And integrity – what did it ever do for him? No, he would gladly trade it all for her. Leaning down, he caught the sweet, salty tear glittering on her jawline with his lips.

"I won't leave unless you force me to", Hermione vowed, her voice breaking. "And I'll always come back."

"I love you", Lucius breathed.

Hermione had no chance to respond before he kissed her fiercely, leaving them both breathless.

"All right", he said as he finally took a step back and allowed that silly smile to take its rightful place on his face. Hermione giggled at the sight. In his eyes, she looked like a goddess of beauty and nature, a warrior dressed as an angel. His witch.

They took each other's hands, and smiled stupidly. Lucius put his hand on there tent flap, and grinning stupidly, he asked: "Shall we go and face the commoners, Lady Malfoy?"

I've been looking forward to this chapter for quite some time now - I hope it came out as filled with joy as I intended it to!

Some of Lucius's words and thoughts were inspired by two songs in Swedish: "Paradiset" by Bo Sundström and Frida Andersson, and "Så får du mig ändå" by Emil Jensen.