As Ginny took her first step down the aisle, a large BANG! bounced
across the domed ceiling, and a large cloud of purple smoke issued from a
camera hidden underneath a pew. A choir of screams and gasps arose as a
small man, dressed in wizard robes, burst out from beneath a bench. Alarm
shot through me and I made an attempt to leave my seat, but Draco brushed
past me and was at the scene of the offense before I could even reach the
aisle. Instead, I held grasped onto Harry as he strode past, attempting to
hold him back. He spun on his heel and confronted me.
"Hermione, what is going on? I thought there was only supposed to be one photographer!" he shouted with blatant anger, his eyes consumed by a fire of rage.
"There is only one photographer," I answered softly, tightening my grip on his arm.
"Then what the bloody hell is that!" Harry cried out, flinging his hands out and then covering his face in anguish.
"I don't know," I replied calmly. "Draco's down there, he'll handle everything. And no, it is alright. It's your wedding and he was supposed to be on security detail. I mean, there are seven aurors down there. The usher guise was good, Harry."
It was as though he hadn't heard a word I'd just said. "What if Ginny's hurt! What if she's blinded, or, or, or-" I stopped him, placing my hand on his mouth.
"Harry, it's just a loose photographer. Like I said before, Draco's down there, your future wife is an auror-in-training, so don't fret." Although I was certain my words were entirely correct, Harry merely tossed me a weak smile and resumed scuffing his shoes on the carpet. "It's your wedding day, for God's sake! At least look happy!" I exclaimed, rapping the back of my hand on his arm. Harry's eyes found mine, and I simply smiled. Reassuringly.
"Do you know how long it took before you eradicated all of the spastic photographers and reporters from my wedding?" I returned complacently, trying to choose a safe subject. I was rewarded with a boyish smile and the retreat of his anger.
"Yeah, that took a while. Great fun though," he added, looking down the aisle, scanning the crowd for his bride. Without speaking, I guided Harry's arm to face him towards the front of the church. Wordlessly, he walked up and took his place, looking slightly nervous and still scared as hell. But, wasn't I as well? Did I not almost have second thoughts about going up the aisle on my wedding day? Just as I returned to my seat, Draco slipped in, panic smoothed over, looking as suave and cool as when he had left.
"And before you ask," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he slid his arm around my waist, "it was just a careful photographer. Snuck pask Dylan's team, Lord only knows how."
"Is he the one with the blue eyes?"
"How am I supposed to know? Kept squealing something about being from "Evening Report", some kind of sleazy tabloid. Frank threw him out on his rear end, and the reporter with him."
"Well, is he blonde? And what reporter?"
"Jesus, Hermione, I don't pay that much attention," Draco answered, a frown creasing his forehead. "She was hiding in the curtains beside the sacristy. Caught her by accident."
I smirked. "You're cute when you're angry."
"Good for me."
"Very good for you," I whispered, kissing him gently. He moved into kiss me deeper, but I pulled away and sat properly in the bench, mirth tugging at the corners of my otherwise solemn mouth.
"Damn you 'Mione. You tease me all the time," he growled playfully into my ear.
"Draco, really!" I shrieked, albeit very quietly. "This isn't our wedding! We don't want to spoil it for the bride and groom-" But before Draco and I could resume our antics, a small, yet hard, fast moving object rammed straight into my lap.
"What the-" began Draco, but just then Aiden shove his pale blonde head into my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck.
"Aiden, sweetheart, what are you doing here?" I asked, while mentally contemplating all the situations that could have brought him here. Moments later, a breathless Ron arrived, his jacket unbuttoned, hair unruly, and generally in a state of complete disarray.
"There he is, the little snitch," breathed Ron heavily as he leant over the pew.
"Will you please stop calling my child quidditch terms!" I snapped harmlessly, enclosing my arms around Aiden, smiling even as I said it.
"Cnsider it done," said Ron absently, sitting down and buttoning his jacket back up. I reached over and tucked his hair back into place.
"Well, why is he here?" Draco asked Ron, his arm now on the back of the pew.
"Your Mum dropped him off, 'Mione. Said something about needing to complete the family for pictures. Actually, I think she's buying baby gifts."
"That would be my mother," I sighed, slipping Aiden's arms off my neck and then addressing him. "Why'd your grandma drop you off at the church?"
He shrugged. "She said I needed to remember Uncle Harry's wudding. Because he's your and Daddy's fiend."
"Because he's what?" I replied, not quite deciphering what my 3 ½ year old had just said. Ron stifled a laugh and even Draco had pure amusement written across his face.
"Fiend. I think."
"You know, for a 2 year old, he's pretty good," remarked Ron. I rolled my eyes.
"He's 3 ½. He'll be 4 in October."
"Oh. Right."
"Friend, don't you mean?" interjected Draco.
"Mmhm!" exclaimed Aiden, nodding fiercely and sliding off my lap to perch beside his father on the bench.
"Got to go," muttered Ron. "Harry looks as though he just saw his pet canary shred his socks." I didn't get time to ask whether the socks would have been the canary's or Harry's.
A giggle escaped in spite of the atmosphere and Ron cast a sidelong glance at me and then left, shaking his head. His eyebrows raised, Draco looked over at me and gestured to our son, who was playing with the hymn books in between us. I just shrugged. Mum had seen fit to drop him off, and I knew enough by now that her decisions were usually, if not always, correct.
Just then the piano struck a chord once again, and everyone stood up, turning to watch the bridal party. I chanced a glance at Harry, who wasn't quite as green as the last time, and then resumed my position.
When Ginny, accompanied by Mr. Weasley, walked past us, I could see the excitement and apprehension reflected in her face. She had a death grip on both her father's arm and her bouquet as the music carried them down the aisle, toward Harry and her future. Following them came Ron and Luna, looking quite the pair with her pale grey dress and brilliant raspberry flowers bringing out the flush in her cheeks.
"Mum," Aiden said rather loudly, tugging on my dress.
"Yes?" I answered, whispering and motioning for him to be quieter.
"Hold me up," came back his hoarse, childish whisper, much louder than necessary. I grinned at him and he smiled back the same, his baby teeth now all in. But before I could even pick him up, Draco swept Aiden onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the entire church. He giggled with glee at being on his father's shoulders, a treat I rarely allowed, and looked down at me, slightly nervous. I placed his worries aside, however, when I returned his gaze with a nod and smile. Draco cast a glance at me, concern dusting his features, making him look much older than 25.
Without speaking I conveyed the question, raising my eyebrows towards our son. Draco gestured his head in the direction of my stomach, to our second child, and I smiled with gratitude holding his left arm with both hands and leaning on his shoulder.
"Hermione, what is going on? I thought there was only supposed to be one photographer!" he shouted with blatant anger, his eyes consumed by a fire of rage.
"There is only one photographer," I answered softly, tightening my grip on his arm.
"Then what the bloody hell is that!" Harry cried out, flinging his hands out and then covering his face in anguish.
"I don't know," I replied calmly. "Draco's down there, he'll handle everything. And no, it is alright. It's your wedding and he was supposed to be on security detail. I mean, there are seven aurors down there. The usher guise was good, Harry."
It was as though he hadn't heard a word I'd just said. "What if Ginny's hurt! What if she's blinded, or, or, or-" I stopped him, placing my hand on his mouth.
"Harry, it's just a loose photographer. Like I said before, Draco's down there, your future wife is an auror-in-training, so don't fret." Although I was certain my words were entirely correct, Harry merely tossed me a weak smile and resumed scuffing his shoes on the carpet. "It's your wedding day, for God's sake! At least look happy!" I exclaimed, rapping the back of my hand on his arm. Harry's eyes found mine, and I simply smiled. Reassuringly.
"Do you know how long it took before you eradicated all of the spastic photographers and reporters from my wedding?" I returned complacently, trying to choose a safe subject. I was rewarded with a boyish smile and the retreat of his anger.
"Yeah, that took a while. Great fun though," he added, looking down the aisle, scanning the crowd for his bride. Without speaking, I guided Harry's arm to face him towards the front of the church. Wordlessly, he walked up and took his place, looking slightly nervous and still scared as hell. But, wasn't I as well? Did I not almost have second thoughts about going up the aisle on my wedding day? Just as I returned to my seat, Draco slipped in, panic smoothed over, looking as suave and cool as when he had left.
"And before you ask," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he slid his arm around my waist, "it was just a careful photographer. Snuck pask Dylan's team, Lord only knows how."
"Is he the one with the blue eyes?"
"How am I supposed to know? Kept squealing something about being from "Evening Report", some kind of sleazy tabloid. Frank threw him out on his rear end, and the reporter with him."
"Well, is he blonde? And what reporter?"
"Jesus, Hermione, I don't pay that much attention," Draco answered, a frown creasing his forehead. "She was hiding in the curtains beside the sacristy. Caught her by accident."
I smirked. "You're cute when you're angry."
"Good for me."
"Very good for you," I whispered, kissing him gently. He moved into kiss me deeper, but I pulled away and sat properly in the bench, mirth tugging at the corners of my otherwise solemn mouth.
"Damn you 'Mione. You tease me all the time," he growled playfully into my ear.
"Draco, really!" I shrieked, albeit very quietly. "This isn't our wedding! We don't want to spoil it for the bride and groom-" But before Draco and I could resume our antics, a small, yet hard, fast moving object rammed straight into my lap.
"What the-" began Draco, but just then Aiden shove his pale blonde head into my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck.
"Aiden, sweetheart, what are you doing here?" I asked, while mentally contemplating all the situations that could have brought him here. Moments later, a breathless Ron arrived, his jacket unbuttoned, hair unruly, and generally in a state of complete disarray.
"There he is, the little snitch," breathed Ron heavily as he leant over the pew.
"Will you please stop calling my child quidditch terms!" I snapped harmlessly, enclosing my arms around Aiden, smiling even as I said it.
"Cnsider it done," said Ron absently, sitting down and buttoning his jacket back up. I reached over and tucked his hair back into place.
"Well, why is he here?" Draco asked Ron, his arm now on the back of the pew.
"Your Mum dropped him off, 'Mione. Said something about needing to complete the family for pictures. Actually, I think she's buying baby gifts."
"That would be my mother," I sighed, slipping Aiden's arms off my neck and then addressing him. "Why'd your grandma drop you off at the church?"
He shrugged. "She said I needed to remember Uncle Harry's wudding. Because he's your and Daddy's fiend."
"Because he's what?" I replied, not quite deciphering what my 3 ½ year old had just said. Ron stifled a laugh and even Draco had pure amusement written across his face.
"Fiend. I think."
"You know, for a 2 year old, he's pretty good," remarked Ron. I rolled my eyes.
"He's 3 ½. He'll be 4 in October."
"Oh. Right."
"Friend, don't you mean?" interjected Draco.
"Mmhm!" exclaimed Aiden, nodding fiercely and sliding off my lap to perch beside his father on the bench.
"Got to go," muttered Ron. "Harry looks as though he just saw his pet canary shred his socks." I didn't get time to ask whether the socks would have been the canary's or Harry's.
A giggle escaped in spite of the atmosphere and Ron cast a sidelong glance at me and then left, shaking his head. His eyebrows raised, Draco looked over at me and gestured to our son, who was playing with the hymn books in between us. I just shrugged. Mum had seen fit to drop him off, and I knew enough by now that her decisions were usually, if not always, correct.
Just then the piano struck a chord once again, and everyone stood up, turning to watch the bridal party. I chanced a glance at Harry, who wasn't quite as green as the last time, and then resumed my position.
When Ginny, accompanied by Mr. Weasley, walked past us, I could see the excitement and apprehension reflected in her face. She had a death grip on both her father's arm and her bouquet as the music carried them down the aisle, toward Harry and her future. Following them came Ron and Luna, looking quite the pair with her pale grey dress and brilliant raspberry flowers bringing out the flush in her cheeks.
"Mum," Aiden said rather loudly, tugging on my dress.
"Yes?" I answered, whispering and motioning for him to be quieter.
"Hold me up," came back his hoarse, childish whisper, much louder than necessary. I grinned at him and he smiled back the same, his baby teeth now all in. But before I could even pick him up, Draco swept Aiden onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the entire church. He giggled with glee at being on his father's shoulders, a treat I rarely allowed, and looked down at me, slightly nervous. I placed his worries aside, however, when I returned his gaze with a nod and smile. Draco cast a glance at me, concern dusting his features, making him look much older than 25.
Without speaking I conveyed the question, raising my eyebrows towards our son. Draco gestured his head in the direction of my stomach, to our second child, and I smiled with gratitude holding his left arm with both hands and leaning on his shoulder.