A/N - I'm sorry this took so long - I actually had come off hiatus a while before the 17th, when I said I'd be done by, but I kept losing faith in the entire story. I'm looking to have the final chapters coming up, so that this can finally be done and the re-edits can start.

Also: as there's family from all over Europe, some people are going to have written parts in another language which is probably written horribly inaccurately since I don't know the language and had to use Google Translate. I apologise to those who do speak the language. Maybe you can correct me for the re-edits.

"Malfoy," he was greeted once again by Ronald Weasley. They shook hands, and Draco nodded in greeting to everyone else who was further away from him. "Hermione," he said in a rather lighter tone. He seemed to look to Draco for guidance, but he merely turned his head away and greeted Harry beside him; Ron seemed to take it as his cue to kiss her knuckles.

"I'm glad you all could make this event," Draco said stiffly. "Consider this our olive branch – though I'm not sure why we needed it."

Hermione pinched his side, and apologised on his behalf. Draco didn't take it back.

"This is going well already," Harry muttered to himself.

Ron watched Draco challengingly. "No," he said slowly, weighing his words. "He's right. I can see that he's way past his elitism." He picked up a glass of champagne as it passed by him. "And House-Elves! Marvellous."

"Ronald," Hermione admonished. "Really. Draco's been more than courteous inviting you all here for my benefit-"

Ron sneered. He didn't quite seem to think of it as courteous or a major development to be allowed to attend for the first year that it had been going on. "You used to hate the enslavement-" he interrupted.

"They're not enslaved," Hermione and Draco protested, the former reddening and the latter adding 'Weasley' in a scathing voice.

Ron scoffed, choosing to drink his champagne instead of retaliating. He could see that they were both getting flustered and frustrated, and though he wanted to ruin Draco's party more than anything in the world, he would upset Hermione even more than she already was. Guilt was a miniscule feeling.

"We're happy to be here for you, Hermione. Really," Harry cut in, giving Ron a fatigued look. He turned to Draco who was trying his hardest not to scowl, and Hermione could see that he was feeling quite uncomfortable. "I hear that inviting us was you and your mother's…idea. Thank you; I'm sure doing such an unpopular thing as this-"

"Everyone's watching us," Draco cut in pompously. Ron, Harry and Hermione turned their heads to look, but Draco quickly reprimanded them. "I'm supposed to meet with the most important family first and work my way down. I don't happen to think that you lot are the most important – you should be at the end, awaiting my graces – but I happen to think Hermione is important, and you're important to her. So here we are." He looked to Ron scathingly. "Here I am - risking my position in society and listening to you insult my kindness and lifestyle - which, apparently isn't good enough for you." He paused, enjoying the look of guilt beginning to grow on his face. The knowledge that Ron knew him to be right was too sweet. Then, he demanded, "Why are you here?"

"I'm here for Hermione," Ron retorted, his face reddening.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said quietly. They made brief eye contact and he knew that she had forgiven him.

"You better fucking act like you are," he muttered to Ron. "And watch your alcohol – I could do without you being drunk."

"Stop it," she chided. "Both of you." They all knew that he was purposely winding them up, but they weren't to be the ones to cause disruption so blatantly in this sort of public and during something that seemed as important as it did to Draco Malfoy, the repercussions of which could follow them around for years.

Draco relaxed so he didn't look so challenging, but he maintained a watchful over Ron. He didn't mind Harry so much, seeing as he seemed to be the more sensible of the two, coupled with the fact that he had never tried to make a move on Hermione during the entire time they had been at Hogwarts together. Draco smiled saccharine sweet; "Now, I'm going to go and welcome the rest of your – hopefully, grateful – family, and leave Hermione here with you for a moment, so I'm no longer bothering you," he stated. "If we're lucky you'll be better than when I'm there - and you can tell her how gorgeous she looks, because you haven't already." He let his arm slip away from Hermione's waist, leaving her blushing out of embarrassment, shook both of their hands again and moved past them to the other Weasleys.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley," Draco said kindly, shaking Arthur's hand and kissing Molly's. He was beginning to get tired of kissing people's hands. "It's so wonderful that you could join us. As those who can be considered to be Hermione's Wizarding parents, I'm glad that you could see this – transformation, if you will."

They smiled, though Draco could tell that Molly's was only slightly forced. He imagined that she didn't think very much of him for taking away Hermione from his son, no matter whether it was his active choice or not. He didn't think her – or any of the other Weasleys so ignorant, however, knowing that Fleur Delacour was a part of their family.

"You seem to have changed into a nice young man, very different from your father," Arthur commented. "From what I – we've seen, Hermione seems to be very happy with you."

Draco smiled widely, looking over to where Hermione was standing and observing the trio's interactions. "Thank you, Sir. It's in my nature to make her happy, as I'm sure you both already know from your son, William," he said. "I do hope, however, that there is no love lost between you both and Hermione. I hear from my mother that you both have Black relations, so it appears that we'll be family once again. Perhaps Hermione won't be as close family as she would've been with your son, if I had not…But we'll still be family, and I hope to invite you to more of these events."

"We understand the choices she had to make, and while of course, we're sad for our son, I think we do appreciate that this is the choice that's best for her," Arthur said. "And it's always nice to gain a new member of our ever-growing family."

He nodded, clearing his throat. "I know it doesn't change anything at all, but I offer my condolences for the death of your son, Fred. I can't begin to understand that sort of pain – both for you or for George."

They nodded solemnly, slightly misty-eyed. Molly couldn't seem to find any words to convey what she felt for Draco and his words, whether they were bad or good – but he didn't mind; he understood in whatever capacity he had to understand that type of close loss. Arthur murmured a thank you well-enough for the both of them.

He briefly looked back around the hall to see that he was still being watched, but by not so many people. "I must be going, but I hope to come back again with Hermione later. Mrs Weasley. If it's not too much to ask, I'd like you to save a dance for me – and could you ask your daughter if she would also save me a dance? I'd very much like to dance with her too."

Draco paraded her around the room, from person to person, introducing her to multiple families who were all more than enthusiastic to have an audience with her. Despite smugly being told otherwise, she had originally just thought them to be fervent in trying to please Draco, but when the more people they met focused on her more than they did him, it was clear that he was right.

This was probably only the second time in her life that she had felt so amazed.

Hermione hadn't quite expected everything to be so pleasant – hadn't quite expected to be receiving high-end job offers from those from the Ministry (not just Britain's Ministry of Magic) that had good connections, purely for who she was and not for who she was with. She had imagined this room to be rife with hostility, but so far the only hostility she had come across was from Ron; people had stopped scrutinising them once they had moved onto the other, more regular, pure-bloods. Even the strong families with young daughters, who looked at Draco as if he were a prince of some sort, weren't particularly bitter – and the daughters themselves seemed to have a unique understanding of the bond shared between them both, but still looked at them inquisitively, as if they didn't quite understand it.

Draco had been a fine escort as well, whispering sweet words to her en-route to the next family, and occasionally stopping to kiss her. He had been a translator for those that didn't speak fine English, and instead encouraged them to speak their native tongue; Hermione hadn't quite known that he was as well-versed in as many different languages as he was, thinking that it didn't exceed French or Latin. He could travel freely in the world, and not have to worry about language being a barrier for him, and she was vaguely jealous of him – but also quite fairly aroused at hearing him speak foreign words.

Would their children know as many tongues as him? Would she ever master a language or would he be her permanent translator?

"Gracias señora Aparicio por la oferta de empleo para mi Hermione. Estoy seguro de que ella misma se lo agradecería a sí misma, pero ella parece estar un poco sorprendido por el momento," he said, kissing her hand in parting. "Es bueno verlos a los dos de nuevo. Disfrute de su noche."

"Gracias señor y señora Malfoy," she croaked. Hermione herself was aware enough to understand that señora meant that she was Draco's wife, but he didn't seem to correct her; he only nodded and walked them both away. Perhaps her assumption was wrong. "El empleo le pertenece a Hermione, siempre que ella lo desee."

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, decidedly taking a long route to the next family. "You seemed to just…zone out for a moment there."

He was so lovely. "I'm fine," she said. "Just a bit overwhelmed. And nervous - about the dance."

"Understandable." He nodded. "We're fine though, right?"

"Of course." She ran her fingers across his jaw. "I've missed you."

Draco missed the contact of her skin, and wished that they could do without the gloves. He caught her hand in his own and laced their fingers together, pressing a kiss to the inside of her palm. It didn't feel the same, his lips touching the silken fabric. "I've died without you," he retorted.

"Melodramatic," she quipped and he rolled his eyes.

He smiled at her plainly. "Je t'adore," he said softly.

She smiled back at him, and leaned her head onto his shoulder. "I do love it when you seduce me with foreign words."

He seemed proud.

"Where's Blaise, then? I thought that I would've seen him around by now."

Draco chuckled. "Hiding. Blaise Zabini is hiding, and we can't leave the public eye to find him. Don't worry; I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later."

"Hiding?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think that I was the only one that hated these things, did you?"

Hermione was glad when other couples joined her and Draco on the dancefloor. It wasn't because it had been a complete disaster (on the contrary, she had followed the steps exactly as she had been taught them and it was fine), but she couldn't quite move past the knowledge of being watched by over 100 people – most of whom could probably foxtrot a lot more gracefully than she currently was. Nevertheless, it was a fun dance – more so than a waltz – and she and Draco had shared a few secret smiles during it from when they had practiced the other day. It gave a few opportunities for her to be flirty with him, which was possibly the most fun part of it, to know that his eyes were excitably and amusedly watching her. It was the closest that they had been to each other in a day for some parts, and his touch was so lovely.

As Draco twirled her around again, she saw that a young pure-blood girl had managed to convince Ron into being her partner for this song, and he had politely obliged – though he wasn't very good at it. She saw Harry and Ginny contently watching everyone else, before her back was turned on them and they became lost in a sea of white dresses and flaring skirts.

When they had finished, Draco held their hands aloft and the others that had been dancing around them, as well as those who hadn't danced, turned to them and applauded. He nodded his head to random individuals and said thank you to those who were close, and Hermione, less confidentially than he was, did the same. As the next song begun to play, others joined those already on the dance floor, whilst her and Draco, with a few others, moved off and stood on the side-lines. He had just bent his head to kiss her when a young girl in white rushed up to them, causing him to frown slightly and turn to address her; the girl, who sported the blackest hair she had ever seen without causing her to look paler than she really was. She wore a mask that was crafted in such a way that it looked like a bat. Altogether, she was so beautiful that Hermione had an extraordinary idea of who she was.

"I remember that dress!" She exclaimed in an excited manner. "That is my bridesmaids dress, isn't it? I never thought the red one suited any of my ladies, but oh, you look lovely."

"Yes, it is." Hermione fingered the fabric distantly. "Thank you – er," Hermione said, slightly unnerved by her enthusiasm. She would've thought that any of these girls would've hated the girl who 'stole' their pure-blood fiancé away from them – especially if it were she, who was, effectively, dirtying their bloodline. Didn't she think of her as the lesser of both of them? And to notice her bridesmaids' dress – how long had she spent planning their wedding, how close were they to the actual day before it had to be cancelled? Hermione didn't think that she would be this genuinely enthusiastic to see another girl wearing her bridesmaids' dress with her old fiancé.

"Oh," she said quickly. "I'm sorry – where are my manners?" She offered her hand to Hermione, ignoring Draco's eye roll. "I'm Astoria Greengrass. You probably know my sister, Daphne."

"Astoria," Hermione said politely, taking her proffered hand and shaking it. "How lovely to see you, finally."

"Won't your father be looking for you? I understand you're not supposed to be bothering me tonight," Draco said coolly.

"Oh no," she said. "I'm not bothering you."

Draco rolled his eyes, clearly thinking the opposite. "Why are you here?" He asked. "Hermione and I haven't had much of a moment alone together yet - and when we finally do, you show up. I'm not above dragging you back to Augustus."

Hermione blushed. She felt as if she needed to tell Astoria not to mind him, but she probably already knew what he was like.

"I merely came to compliment your Hermione," Astoria retorted.

Your Hermione…Why did everyone call her your Hermione? She wasn't exactly his.

"Despite being your ex-fiancée, I do believe I still have that right," she continued. "Besides, I thought you might have seen where the Edlunds' son is - or more importantly, who he is."

"Noah Edlund?" Draco asked, confused. He watched her gaze around the room, her eyes flitting from person to person. "Why would you want to know who he is?"

"Is he not nice?" Astoria asked. "Daphne says that he's very handsome."

Draco blinked slowly, his lips turning down into a frown. "You're engaged?" Without even looking at him, she showed him the ring on her finger; it was a rather large diamond set in the middle of a fine silver rose, it caught the light and glinted prettily. "Astoria," he said, demanding her attention. "You're engaged to Noah Edlund?"

From what Draco knew of the Edlunds, they were of Swedish descent, and Noah was their eldest son at twenty-five years old. He had never personally known him, but he vaguely knew his youngest sister, Katarina, who was slightly younger than Astoria, and the eldest of the girls, Astrid, who was closer to Noah's age. They were one of the richest ones in Sweden, and owned some land in Switzerland, on their mother's side; Noah didn't live in either of those places, though. He lived in Romania, for the dragons, where he worked.

She turned around, and tilted her head. "Yes. Can you not see the ring? It's a big enough diamond is it not?"

"Were you here to collect my blessings, being your ex-fiancé?"

"As I was told by my father."

Draco looked to Hermione quickly and then back to Astoria, frowning disappointedly. "You don't even know who he is," he stated.

Astoria scoffed. "You sound surprised."

He scowled. "You're fifteen. He's almost twice your age."

Though he didn't particularly know why, he felt maddened by her lack of seriousness over the idea of being engaged to someone she didn't know. In another life, he would be following the same route as Astoria was – marrying whomever his parents chose – so though he could understand why she wasn't actively rebelling against it, with his newfound understanding of love, he didn't understand why she wasn't scared or nervous that they might not quite be compatible.

"You're just angry that I'm going to be married before you." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Or embarrassed."

Draco sniffed. "I don't find that it's the right time to be engaged."

Hermione felt embarrassed to be standing there, listening to all of this. It didn't exactly feel like she should involve herself, and so she felt like she shouldn't be there at all. She understood why Draco would be peeved that she was engaged to someone much older than she was – and at fifteen – but this was part of their traditions; she would've thought that he understood that better than she did.

"Oh?" She smirked quite pleasantly now. "Father tells me that it's the perfect time to be engaged - and I quite agree. There's no Dark Lord - or promise of Him returning; and all the prominent Death Eaters have been sent to Azkaban. I hear Britain has never been safer. Besides, we're quite recovered from all the death and damage from the war now: Hogwarts - which I imagine your own children would attend - has been rebuilt, as you know; the economy is growing; medical care is forever improving, and-," she gave him a playful nudge, "old beliefs are dying out."

"You don't even know him - what he wants and everything. Does he even know you're underage?"

She rolled her eyes, amused at his panic. "Of course he knows! Our family isn't one to trick someone into a marriage." She sniffed, lifting her chin. "And I do know him, thank you very much. We've been sending owls for a few months now, and I like him."

"But Astoria-"

"Look, Draco: this isn't your decision anymore," she said, not unkindly. "I know what I want to do, and I know that, as a good daughter, I'm going to marry him anyway. Noah hasn't pressured me into anything, as you haven't pressured Hermione into anything. If it were the other way around, I wouldn't be telling you not to marry her."

"It's different for you," he said sulkily.

"Because he's older, right? What does five years matter once I'm passed eighteen? Absolutely nothing," she stated. "Please Draco; just give me your blessing and I'll leave you two alone."

He released a breath, his fingers curling against Hermione's hip. "Fine," he said. Draco felt lighter after saying it, but he still preferred not to indulge this. "Hermione, if you excuse us, I have to go speak to Astoria's father with her. I'll be back soon." He kissed her on the cheek, and then escorted Astoria away with him, who seemed pleased to be getting her way. She promised to come back and speak to Hermione later as she was pulled away.

She was left standing alone.

A large smile overtook Astoria's face as she quickened her pace in order to keep up with Draco's large steps. "Now," she said, "when are you going to do whatever it is that Veelas do instead of marriage? I can see it in you, desperately wanting to make a move."

He scowled further; he wasn't going to indulge her in that either. "Stop it," he warned. Nevertheless, he allowed her to continue to ask him questions – though, most he left unanswered.

Astoria returned to Hermione soon after, apologising on behalf of Draco, who was engaged in a deep conversation with someone whom he had yet to introduce her to. She continued to be very bright and enthusiastic with her, complimenting her entrance and asking her blunt and naïve questions about her and Draco's future, as well as telling her stories of the previous balls.

Hermione was still unsure of how to receive her, but her bubbliness made her amicable and she very quickly decided that she liked Astoria. Her questions, however, were best left vaguely answered or not at all, lest they gave her a place to prod further into a relationship that Hermione would rather not tell her anything about, otherwise it wouldn't be theirs.

Astoria fell quiet as Lucius approached, and Hermione watched him warily, but he didn't do anything deplorable, and instead offered her his arm as he guided them onto the dancefloor for the next song.

"I am sure Draconis would take this as a wonderful event," he murmured to her, calming her fears as they moved into position for an upbeat waltz. "The customary father-daughter dance, as much as it can be without being fully related. All in good faith, of course. Contrary to the family name."

"What do you want?" She asked cautiously, allowing him to lead her easily. She had no fear; Draco was lingering with some others nearby, carefully watching the two of them.

"I have not had a chance to speak to you properly since you arrived here," he replied airily. "It has been terribly busy."

"There were gaps in the schedule." Her eyes caught sight of Draco excusing himself and moving to the Weasley's table, where his mother was conversing with them. Both Malfoys took the hands of a Weasley and led them to the dancefloor to join in.

He sniffed. "In any case, it has only recently come to my attention that you promised to Bond with my son," he said slowly.

"I also told Draco that I loved him, if that means anything extra," she said coolly.

"You promising to Bond with him tells me that much already," he retorted. "I just wanted to talk to you about the Ceremony. It might not be what you expect."

She watched him carefully, seeing the sincerity in his face. He wants to protect his son. He thinks that I might back out. Why does everyone think that I will back out? "How?"

He licked his lips, glancing around them, moving in to a more open space. "He will not be able to control himself. You might not be able to control him. The Ceremony was not originally for humans - it is for animals. Veelas are animals." He moved them into a twirl, and spun over to another free space. "The Veela will be in control. Complete control. I know that you had a bad experience with that, but you should not fear him on that day. He will be more sedated, easier, more loving and affectionate – perhaps not having such different mannerisms from your mask's character."

Hermione's hand flew to it, tracing the design. It was a lion; Narcissa had thought it'd be complimentary with Draco's old, reused snake-themed mask and she couldn't help but agree. She didn't know how she felt now. Did she expect that she was going to do the Ceremony with the Veela instead of Draco?

She should've; it was obvious. This was never for Draco.

"I don't remember that encounter, so I don't fear him at all." It was only half a lie and she could see that Lucius knew that it was. "When Draco was stuck in Veela form at Hogwarts, he was more than lovely. I'm sure we can deal with his lack of control-"

"We?" He seemed amused. "You mean, you. It will be you and him in a room with a Seer – no one else is even allowed to go near it. The Seer will not get involved in your business, and Draconis will be a lost cause to appeal to. His lack of control will be easy to deal with and be over quicker if you do not delay in giving him what he wants," he stated. "Blood." Another pause as they twirled and moved to a new clearing. "I am sure he told you about that already though."

She remembered what she had learned from the Veela about the Ceremony. "We ingest each other's blood."

He nodded. "It is mixed together first, and then evenly distributed into two goblets. You have to drink all of it. He will not like it if you do not finish it; it does not look good for him if his own Mate does not enjoy the taste of his blood."

Hermione swallowed nervously. She didn't think that she could drink a whole goblet of blood; she thought that she may only have to suck some of his blood from an incision and vice versa. "Of course," she said.

"And then some extra blood taken from each of you will be placed in necklaces, as symbols of your Bonding." He looked to his own Mate and wife, on the other side of the ballroom, dancing with Arthur Weasley. "Narcissa and I still wear ours. Do not let it get broken."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Lucius," she said sincerely.

He looked around the ballroom, seemingly ignoring her. After a moment, he turned back to her, caught her eye, and said, "I hope you do not spend the rest of your lives waiting and waiting and forestalling things. I have been in this house for almost 46 years - Narcissa for almost 18. We need a change of scenery."

"You know Draco can hear you saying these things," Hermione reminded him. She didn't think that Lucius would say this to anyone else. He was conceding.

He smirked. Instead of snapping that he hadn't forgotten that his son was a Veela, he said, "Good. So I do not have to waste more of my breath warning the two of you. And he will rest easy knowing that you are fine with the Bonding Ceremony - and look, he is even behaving better now, knowing he has got this Manor."

Hermione looked to him, politely smiling and conversing with Ginny as he led her in the rough outline of a box. Those two had come far since the day on the train when he had mistaken her for his Mate. Draco looked up from Ginny at that precise moment, and caught her eye; his resulting grin was infectious.

"So you're going to name him formally and officially the heir."

"Who else am I going to give it to?" He fired back, amused. "He is my only son. Perhaps you will have better luck with your own family."

The dance ended suddenly, and he stepped away from her, bowing low as she curtseyed, and then strode back to Narcissa, who had released a slightly flustered Arthur Weasley and greeted Lucius warmly, despite their short separation from each other. Draco, after saying a quick goodbye and thank you to Ginny, who seemed a bit star struck, quickly swaggered over to where she was standing.

"So," he purred, elongating the word as he led her off the dancefloor, and pulled her close to him, leading them back to their secret corner. His eyes turned completely black with a blink. "When are you planning to mate with this…Veela?" His tongue poked out to lick up the column of her neck; she jumped at the suddenness, causing him to laugh. "When are you going to bleed for his consumption?"

"Sooner the better if it stops you being like this," she said playfully, pushing him away from her.

He quickly grinned, his eyes bleeding back into grey, and swopped down to kiss her. He moaned at the contact; his body was electric. "We should really set a date though," he mumbled against her lips.

"What does it matter? We're going to be the only ones there. Do it whenever."

He pulled away suddenly. "This is important," he whined. "There needs to be some serious preparation put into this." He traced a vein in her neck idly with his finger. "Like where to cut. How to cut effectively – properly. We need to get the necklaces. Adjust your dress." He swallowed. "I need to get a reading. We need to learn the Ceremony."

"I didn't think that there was that much to it," she confessed.

He pressed their foreheads together; their masks scraped against each other. "Perhaps not as much as a wedding, but still a lot. It won't take long to sort out, however. Three months, tops," he said.

She gripped the lapels of his suit, holding him closer to her. "And how much longer do you have?"

His eyes closed. "Four months and twenty days."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her face further into his neck. "I'm sorry that I couldn't love you sooner."

"I didn't try either." He hummed, stroking her hair. "Don't fret, princess. It's not your fault. I have more than enough time."

Two high-backed chairs had been placed in the centre of the ballroom, so that all the families that were sitting at their tables had an equal view of the two new members of their society.

Draco stood from his chair, the one on Hermione's right, when Lucius approached them with his mother trailing after him. In his hands were the Malfoy heirlooms: the snake-headed cane, the family ring, and a set of three keys.

"I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, name my son, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, the sole heir of Malfoy Manor and the family name," Lucius recited loudly to the hall, handing Draco each of the heirlooms. When it came to passing over the family ring, Lucius slipped it onto his son's finger; it altered its size to fit his son's nimble fingers. "Upon the conception of his child, Malfoy Manor will cease to belong to me or Narcissa Malfoy, and will become his, as is compliant with our traditions. With each of these keys, you will have unrestricted access to the manor, the gardens, and all its secreted rooms." He reached out and guided Hermione to her feet. "I approve of Hermione Jean Granger as your partner, to continue the Malfoy line."

Narcissa stepped forward and handed Hermione a bouquet of red, white and pink roses, interspersed with white carnations, and kissed her cheeks with a smile. She didn't know the meanings of any of them, but from Draco's smug look, she knew that he'd be explaining each one to her with joy.

Both Narcissa and Lucius stepped aside so that their audience could have an unblocked view of the new Malfoy heirs. Draco sidled closer to her as Narcissa began the clapping, and slipped a hand around her waist. He pretended to sniff the flowers, using the bouquet to hide his maddening grin; he laughed quietly, the sound of it drowned out by the overwhelming applause. Obviously, there were some that weren't clapping at all, but Draco had warned her not to worry about those, that they would eventually come around; all Hermione could notice, however, was that the ones that weren't clapping were the few people in the room that Draco had never introduced her to and had avoided at all costs. There were hisses and insults here and there, but they were largely ignored, or looked upon disapprovingly.

Looking around, she saw that Blaise had come out of hiding to eat dinner, as well as some other former Slytherins that she used to know. Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass (obviously), Adrian Pucey, to name a few. Blaise was clapping rather audaciously, which made Hermione laugh; but so was Astoria (who seemed to have found Noah Edlund, if his resemblance to his parents was anything to go by), and the entire Weasley clan, as well as a select few others. Draco's hold on her tightened slightly when they heard someone wolf whistle, but when he saw Blaise wink at him, he laughed, loosening his grip again, and inclined his head towards him.

He withdrew his face from the flowers after a moment, knowing that he couldn't keep his face there for long and faced his supporters, nodding to each one, murmuring "thank you" under his breath, saving a particularly heartfelt one for when he faced his parents. As the clapping died down, Draco gestured for everyone to resume their seats, twirling his cane in one hand as he guided Hermione to their table, the one that they shared with his parents.

He pulled out her chair for her, as Lucius did for Narcissa, and sat down to the right of their Mates only after they had seated themselves. Draco wished that everyone enjoyed their meal as the House-Elves burst from the doors, their small arms piled high with platters of all sorts of hot, steaming food for winter. Hermione was relieved; she was absolutely starving by now, after all the dancing and parading, and the food from the Malfoy's kitchens had always been so delicious. She was even impressed to see the grandeur of the Christmas dinner that they were being served, each plate being delivered directly to a witch or wizard, before the elves scurried away to retrieve the next one. There seemed to be a never-ending flow of elves, as they came pouring out of the doors.

She felt Draco's hand in her hair, and she looked at him to see him gently pulling her tiara out of her hair and replacing it with a gold-coloured paper crown. It was too big for her head, and slipped down to obscure her eyesight, causing Draco to grin harder. "Regal," he told her, her tiara dangling carelessly from his fingers. His mother told him to be careful with it, and with a frown, he placed it in the middle of the table, so as not to be dirtied by food, for whenever Hermione decided to put it back on.

Hermione didn't know that they even had the traditional paper crowns set beside each plate. She looked around the room only to see that other than her, only children were wearing the paper crowns – well, the Weasley family were as well, but some (Ron and Harry) seemed more embarrassed to be wearing it than the others did. She managed to catch their eye, and wave at them, pushing the paper crown back up her face, to rest properly on her head again. They seemed to feel better about seeing her also wearing the crown, and waved sheepishly back.

She picked up the folded crown that had been placed by her plate, and opened it. Knowing what she was about to do, a highly amused Draco bent his head for her to place his own golden crown atop his head. His, contrary to hers, fit perfectly; though, he didn't suit it nearly as much as he thought that Hermione did. Draco kissed Hermione on the nose as his lifted his head, murmuring something about queens that made her blush, as he pulled her chair closer to him.

His father tried to not look at him, as if he was already creating an embarrassment of himself as their heir.

"Oh cheer up, Lucius," Narcissa teased. She waved a delicate hand in their direction. "They are just having some Christmas joy. Where is yours?"

Lucius didn't splutter or try to defend himself; he only ground his teeth together and sighed, which Narcissa found very entertaining. She laughed gaily, whilst Draco only smiled, looking between them and to Hermione, who didn't seem to be taking any notice of what was happening.

He threw his arm around the back of her chair, and leaned forward to whisper in Hermione's ear. "That's what we have to look forward to," he said. She looked up from her plate of food, and saw Narcissa fixing a blue crown upon her own head; her own, similar tiara, sitting next to Hermione's in the middle of the table. Lucius allowed her to fix a green one upon his head; though he didn't look overtly happy, there was a little spark of joy in his eyes, seeing his Mate so merry. "I, for one, can't wait."

She hummed, pressing herself into him. Hermione secretly watched them for a little while longer, smiling warmly, before turning back to Draco. "I'm still not letting you feed me," she told him. "We're not quite them."

"Not yet."

After dinner, the music had restarted and so did the dancing.

Draco stood in the side-lines for most of it, positively guffawing and cheering "dance, Hermione" as he watched her be swept into a group of pure-blood girls and Astoria (the only time since Draco gave her his blessing, that he had seen her apart from Noah) that tried to teach her a very particular, annual dance. She seemed to struggle with it at first, but the girls were patient, and Draco took pleasure in watching her master it, eventually giggling herself as the group of them got into the swing of it. She hadn't put her tiara back on after dinner and her paper crown had quickly flew from her head as she engaged in all the spinning and bending. He clapped to the beat, with the other spectators, never feeling more in love with her than he had tonight.

He guarded her shoes at his feet, with his cane, she preferring to go barefoot after a few hours in the heels, and dutifully permitted each young pure-blood male, engaged or otherwise, as well as the few patriarchs that asked, to take her dancing. Sometimes Draco even accepted offers from other women to dance with them, trying to give himself a break from watching her be swept off her feet by other people. Nevertheless, he never interrupted any of her dances or did anything to ruin the immense amount of fun that she seemed to be having - but he was wary of Blaise when he deigned to show his face in the ballroom, asking if he could take Hermione for a rumba.

When Ronald Weasley had shown that he could follow curtesy and requested one dance with his Hermione, he didn't deny him. However, he knew that he couldn't stay still watching them together, so, as a further gift to them he took the violin from the violinist on the orchestra, and joined in playing them the Swan Lake Waltz.

Everyone danced and danced, and pleaded for Draco to play them a tune on the violin while they danced (Astoria jokingly requested that he do A Musical Joke, knowing that he couldn't play it), until their feet were sore and it was the end of the night.

"Merci beaucoup, Gerard," Draco said, taking the photograph from him. "J'espère que vous avez apprécié votre nuit."

"Au revoir," Gerard said as he exited the manor doors with his fiancée. He shook hands with Draco before his departure and promised that they would meet again soon, as well as wishing him luck.

He shut the doors, thinking that they were the last people to leave and sighed, dreadfully tired. His parents had retired to their room over an hour ago now, once the first few people had started to leave, leaving him and Hermione to dismiss everyone from their house. He took control of escorting people out of the house and saying the final farewells, leaving Hermione to continue to entertain in the ballroom during his absences; now, she was probably waiting for him to come and collect her so that they could finally go to bed.

Draco didn't quite think that they would be having parties as frequently as the others seemed to; this one had exhausted them enough. It didn't quite seem like it, looking at the photograph of him and Hermione in his hand – one that a friend of his, Gerard Bellegarde, had taken for them, close to the beginning of the night – where he repeatedly twirled Hermione under his arm until she became dizzy and stumbled; but he at least, was on the verge of collapse. The picture though…that gave him a little more strength, seeing the happiness of them both. He'd have to show her – tomorrow, perhaps.

He smiled goofily, when he caught sight of where Hermione was. He tucked the photograph into his pocket as he strode over to her quietly.

His Mate was slumped in one of the chairs - fast asleep, if the string of drool hanging out of her mouth was anything to go by. He wiped the spit from her chin and gently lifted her sleeping body into his arms so that he could carry her back up to their room. She stirred against him, moving a hand to tightly grip the fabric of his shirt and pressing her face further into his chest. He levitated his new cane, her tiara and her shoes behind them.

"Let's get you to bed," he whispered, his hand brushing her hair away from her face, so that it fell onto one side of her shoulder.

As he turned to carry her up the stairs, he almost knocked into Astoria and her fiancé, who he had thought already left.

"Sorry," Astoria started, looking slightly panicked. She took a step back from Draco and Hermione, moving towards Noah. "We – well, I – wanted to congratulate you. Personally." She found her fiancé's hand behind her back and clung onto his fingers. "You handled this party very well. I'm proud of you."

Draco closed his eyes briefly, flattered and feeling prideful. "Thank you. Both of you," he said deeply. "From the both of us." He didn't like the idea of Astoria marrying him, he being 5 years her senior - but, as he'd been told, her protection was no longer of his concern. She was happy to be engaged to someone like him, which was all that seemed to be necessary since she was the one that was going to be marrying him. "You did a lot for her tonight, Astoria, and I am very grateful to you for it. I only wish that she was awake to thank you herself."

She shrugged delicately, a light blush rising onto her cheeks. "Well, it's understandable. It's been a long night for her," she said softly. "I hope to see you both soon – and maybe even with a smaller Malfoy." Astoria smiled excitedly, feeling the same rush of emotion that Draco felt whenever he thought of the prospect of children. "I think Noah and I are to have an engagement party soon in the coming months – you are, of course, invited. Anyway, I think our carriage should be ready to leave us here if we take any longer, and you're so obviously drained as well, so I won't keep you any longer."

Slowly and carefully, Astoria reached out to touch Hermione's cheek with three fingers, curling them so that her knuckles also pressed against her skin, in a sign of respect. Draco knew the gesture well, though it was only really used by the women in society; it was for something more than just respect, but also as a blessing – perhaps, a wish for a good night. She withdrew her hand from Hermione to do the same to Draco, but instead, he pulled her closer to him and firmly kissed both her cheeks and forehead, as his sign of respect.

She smirked, still holding onto Noah's fingers.

"Expect to receive some owls from us," Draco said in parting. "Noah, you have a lovely-" Draco swallowed and ground his teeth together harshly. Astoria wasn't a child anymore, and calling her one would only cause harsh embarrassment for all of them. He didn't want to call her a woman, when she was only just a woman, and he was sure that her fiancé and seen his fair share of 'women', but...He supposed this was still about support. "You have a lovely woman; I wish you both the best."

By the time they reached his room, she was half-lucid and was able to drowsily keep herself sitting upright on his bed as he dressed her down to go to sleep. Originally, she had tried to help him along by undoing some of her jewellery herself, but she had spent so long fumbling with the necklace's clasp, that Draco had gently told her to leave it and removed her hands so that he may do it himself. He did all of it himself in a methodical manner, as if he wanted to remember it.

"I love you," she had slurred, eyes fluttering.

He pressed his forehead to hers again, his own eyes closing and said, "I know."

Her shoes were pulled off first when he sat her on their bed, followed by her necklace and tiara, which were neatly set aside on his desk with her white gloves - of which, she had already taken off herself. For a short amount of time, he had to get her to stand up so that he was able to undo her corset and pull her out of the dress, which he supposed would've been easier if he wasn't tired himself and had to support Hermione, who was swaying on her feet. He then sat her back down on his bed while he draped her dress over the back of a chair, ready to hand back to his mother later on in the morning. He removed the clips in her hair slowly and carefully, watching it in a mesmerized fashion as it all cascaded down her bare back. They, too, were placed on his desk.

Draco then moved to his cupboard and removed an old Quidditch jersey from its rails for her to wear as temporary pyjamas. He didn't have any sweatpants, unfortunately for her in case she got cold, but his old uniform was probably big enough for it not to matter. He gently pulled it over her head and put her arms through the sleeves, before lifting her legs onto the bed and tucking her under the covers. He thought that she felt asleep almost instantly.