A/N: thanks all reviewers! was worried about the responses i might get. and no, it's not a one-shot :)) enjoy then-

Chapter 2

and here comes (the disgruntled) bride.

"How… grunt.. am I… gasp! … supposed to bloody fit into this bloody dress?"

Ginny watched her best friend in amusement as Hermione laced herself us with surprising difficulty into a corset-like satin wedding gown muttering dark and often bloody prophecies of Draco Malfoy's future. "That fowl.. Manipulative.. Son of a bi… how dare he, dazzling me into submission with that accursed Slytherin jewel…He tricked me into spending the rest of the year in living hell.. Just he wait.."

"He didn't trick you, Hermione. I believe that proposing with a ring is traditional."

Hermione let out a thoroughly disgruntled groan. "Humour me, Ginny." and then, "Do I look fat?"

Ginny laughed and leapt up from the bed, helping Hermione brush her formerly untamable bush of hair into a deep chocolate flow. A blood red flower bloomed in her ear, and Hermione, with a final, unsure glance at the mirror, grabbed her bouquet of flowers carelessly and ran lightly out of the room.

Back in the Gryffindor girls' dorm, Ginny looked as Parvati and Lavender made their separate ways down the stairs. Let the fireworks begin.



Draco Malfoy had indeed seen many beautiful women in his life, had done more than just seeing, in fact, but the lithe figure that ran, flushed, into the transformed Transfiguration classroom that Wednesday was quite beyond beauty.

Mud would never look the same again.

Mud. Wait, that was right. Granger was just a Mudblood. Filth of the earth. Her supposed beauty concealed the sullied blood coursing through her veins. Get a grip, Malfoy.

He knew perfectly well that the beauty of the Mudbloods and Muggles had been famed in the Pureblooded realm, and the rumours that the Muggles were actually witches and wizards, whose magic remained dormant. That was how Mudbloods supposedly obtained theirs from nowhere.

Draco had always disliked rumours.

He stepped up coolly to Hermione and offered her his arm, sneering. Best she didn't think herself better than him.

Openly eyeing her with a sneer stamped on his face, "Let's get on with this, shall we?"

A look of intense annoyance grossed Granger's features. "I wasn't the one who wanted to marry me."

"No, Granger, that is, curiously, impossible, you know."

"Don't change the subject, Malferret."

"Was there any in the first place?"

Granger blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Git."

"Mudblood," He retorted, almost conversationally, smirking at her.

"You don't have to be an ass, you know."

"Even though I have a nice one?" he said, innocently.

Fortunately, they arrived un front of Dumbledore (dressed in fully white priest robes) before Hermione could retort. She shut her eyes, and her small, sharp fingernails dug painfully into Draco's arm and he was torn between laughing, and yelling in pain. He compromised with a loud grunt.

Dumbledore glanced at the couple quizzically. "Shall we begin, then?"

Hermione gave a tight-lipped nod. Yes, let's get this nightmare over with and continue to the next one, said her resigned expression. She pressed her nails further into Draco's silken arm till he felt the skin break.
There was something warm seeping into her fingernails. Regardless of Dumbledore serenely reading the traditional nuptial vows, Hermione glanced down at the arm she was clutching. The muscles were abnormally taut.

Her eyes widened in shock.

"Miss Hermione Athena Granger, do you accept Mr Draco Ingram Malfoy as your husband?"

Startled, Hermione stammered, "Um, sure, whatever. I mean, I do," she said hastily. Whatever?

"Mr Malfoy?"

"I do," Draco- Malfoy fixed his gaze on Dumbledore and something flickered in his eye.

Hermione suddenly realized, with a surge of sheer horror, what was coming next.

"You may kiss the bride."

Hermione froze, feeling the blood begin to dry on her fingers. Numbly, she felt herself being bodily turned to the right, but just as the smirking blond lowered his head, pouting his pale lips, Hermione looked up.

And spit on his.

"Don't even think about it," she hissed, wiping her lips as she attempted to pull away, but Draco sodding Malfoy suddenly clamped her arms to her sides. Hermione found herself loathing the Quiddich practices for bestowing him with such muscles.

His silver eyes were darkening, and flashing dangerously. "You know what, Granger, I'd prefer your muddy saliva somewhere else."

He winked.

Then he lifted her up, above his head, and pressed his lips onto hers.

Hermione opened her mouth in pain as Malfoy gripped her arms harshly. Of course, that was pretty much akin to opening the gates of hell. As her lips parted, Malfoy slyly slipped his tongue into her mouth and Oohh.. it writhed pleasurably in there… like a snake.

Hermione felt herself go limp, and vaguely heard a moan. Draco snogged like an angel..

Malfoy??

Hermione tore her mouth away from his, struggling more frantically than ever to get out of his grasp. "Let me go, Malfoy!" she gasped, when she saw that he was not trying to stop her movements, rather, had closed his eyes in perverted apppreciation of the friction she was providing.

Malfoy smiled slowly, and dropped her. Incidentally, she fell, heavily, on his, and he thoughtfully supported her from landing flat on the ground, though his hand placements were questionable.

Whacking his hands away, she reached out to push his leering face to she side, smearing it with blood.

A low, amused voice sounded behind Hermione.

"You sure give new meaning to the term 'bloody fine kiss, 'Mione," the Boy Who Lived commented as Ron collapsed behind hi,, sniggering.

She turned. "Let's see you do better, then." and whacked them.

Behind them, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode appeared to be struggling between disgust and sheer mirth.