Disclaimer: I'm not lucky enough to own Harry Potter & the gang—they all belong to the incomparable JK Rowling!
What happens when your boyfriend's 'spare bit of parchment' takes you and your arch-nemesis twenty years back in time? With the Marauders involved, things can get pretty interesting. ..
Mischief Managed: Ch. 16—Wedded Bliss
Mr. and Mrs. Ted Tonks
Are delighted to announce the Wedding of
Their daughter
Nymphadora Starr Tonks
and
Remus John Lupin
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
The Great Hall
17 October 1996 at four o'clock in the Afternoon
With a Reception Following
The entire student body of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been invited to join in on the wedding festivities. The tables had all been cleared from the Great Hall, which was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the guests began to file in. Candles and playing violins floated in midair. Outside in the courtyard was a large tent for the reception, over which had been placed a large scarlet and gold banner that read Congratulations Newlyweds.
"You look beautiful Ginny," Hermione said delightedly as she finished flipping Ginny's hair with the miraculous Muggle item she called a "flat iron".
"So do you, Mione," Ginny said halfheartedly.
"Hello, earth to Ginny," Hermione slapped her friend playfully on the shoulder, "you've been out of it all morning—you haven't even told me what you and Malfoy have been doing for the past three and a half months."
"Nothing," Ginny said defensively, "we haven't done anything that's just it—and the minute I get home Harry just bites my head off over nothing!"
"Well," Hermione said gently, "You know how he is; you can't take half the things he says seriously—but then again, what did happen between you and Malfoy—I've been hearing some things—"
"Things, what kind of things?" Ginny interjected.
Hermione leaned close to Ginny, "they're saying he's not acting a proper Slytherin—didn't even want his old room back."
"He didn't?" Ginny said, shocked.
Hermione shook her head, "I suppose you must have changed him—well I best be getting downstairs, I promised Ronald that I'd help him with his dress robes—he's hopeless."
Everything happens for a reason, Ginny thought to herself…perhaps Malfoy was not so—evil?
Draco hastily put on his dress robes, not really caring to comb his hair. He had chosen to spend the night in Uncle Sev's chambers, rather than try to re-adapt to dormitory life right at first.
He hardly knew himself without the horrid red tie that he'd grown almost fond of—the trouble was that the rest of his 'friends' didn't recognize him either.
"Well I suppose we'd better go down," Severus said as he struggled with the high black buttons on his robes, "weddings—never an easy or a pleasant task."
"You look nice, Uncle," Draco said sincerely.
Snape rolled his eyes, "what do you want?"
Draco continued to stare at his reflection in the mirror.
"It's the Weasley girl, isn't it?" Snape put a hand on his godson's shoulder.
"I have never felt this way about anyone," Draco sighed.
"Well what are you waiting for then?" Snape exclaimed, "You're young and attractive with loads of money—what's not to like?"
"I couldn't do it," Draco said softly.
"If you want me to go confessing your love for you, I assure you I am not your messenger boy—"
"No, no, no," Draco interjected, "it's Potter—I can't hurt him like that."
"Potter?" Snape looked incredulous, "Are you feeling all right? Have you been drugged? Have you taken a hallucinogen? Been drinking?"
"I wish," Draco responded to the last statement, "but in all seriousness, how would you feel if you had spent the last three months locked up in Gryffindor Tower with his Mum and Dad and all their mates, one who ends up killing the lot of them?"
"I would probably have ended up killing one of them, if not myself," Snape said bitterly, "but I suppose I see your point."
"Thank you Uncle Sev," Draco grinned.
Snape shook his head, "you're a better man than me."
Snape's chamber door banged open and a redheaded girl sped in, oblivious to the Potion-master's presence.
"Draco, I have to talk to you—oh sir—" her voice wavered as Snape stared her down with his cold black eyes, "I'm so sorry…"
Snape seemed to be wrestling with the idea of giving her detention for the rest of the month when he caught a glimpse of his godson's face, who was making a 'please don't embarrass me' gesture.
"I was just leaving," he sneered as he stormed out, billowing robes behind him.
"Weas—Ginny," Draco said hesitantly.
Ginny smiled, "hello Draco."
"How are things?"
"Well I suppose," Ginny said quietly, playing with a strand of her hair, "Harry wasn't exactly happy to see me."
Draco raised an elegant eyebrow.
"I suppose I shouldn't have shouted at him—but he infuriates me sometimes."
"Oh no—you shouted at famous Harry Potter—call the tabloids!" he said mockingly.
"I told him to stop being an angsty hero," Ginny said with a slight smile.
"Good for you," Draco said heartily, pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.
"So," Ginny said, at a loss of what to say to him in such close proximity, "you look—nice."
"Thank you," Draco said, staring deeply into her eyes, "I told you red made me look pasty—green does much better things for my complexion."
"I see," Ginny said, clearly disappointed that the conversation had turned to clothes, "umm Malfoy?"
"Yes Ginny?"
"Do you find me attractive?"
"I—well yes."
"Then kiss me."
Draco placed his long slender hands on her shoulders, and brushed a strand of hair from her face. He leaned his face toward her, his hand gently stroking her cheek. His kiss made her feel searing hot all over, like a thousand bolts of lightning all at once.
"Don't stop," she whispered as he broke the kiss.
"No more," he said firmly, placing his finger on her mouth, "look Ginny—we have something very special between the two of us—but I can't do this—not after what we've been through."
"Am I not good enough for you?" she sniffed.
"You are too good for me," Draco kissed her forehead.
"But you don't love me," she said through tears.
"I do," Draco said firmly, "that's why I have to let you go."
"And do you Nymphadora, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"
"I do," Tonks said her vows with a firm voice.
"The rings, please," Dumbledore said with joy.
"Oh right," Ron said pulling the rings in question out of his vest pocket.
Remus shook his head as Ron handed the gold bands to Dumbledore, and Ginny could clearly make out his lips saying, 'just like Sirius.'
"With the giving and receiving of rings, Remus and Nymphadora have pledged their love to one another. I now pronounce them man and wife."
The entire Great Hall erupted with cheers as Mr. and Mrs. Remus J. Lupin made walked down the aisle together and the guests began to file toward the tent for well-wishing and as Ron was thinking, free food.
Ginny had to fight back tears as she watched Lupin and Tonks, who were so obviously in love. "Would you like to dance?" a familiar hand tapped her on the shoulder.
"Sure Harry, that would be lovely," she said softly.
"Thank you," Harry said as he pulled her close to him, "for the photographs I mean—I didn't mean to go off on you like that earlier."
"Its fine," she sighed, "really Harry, don't worry about it."
"When you and Malfoy disappeared, I thought I'd lost you forever—and I—I suppose that I couldn't bare to lose anyone else, especially after Sirius—and I felt like if something happened to you it was my fault—and when you appeared—with Malfoy—I just couldn't take it anymore—but I want you to know that if you want to be with him, I'll understand."
"Oh Harry," Ginny said, "I can't believe that you blamed yourself—oh Harry, I'm so sorry about everything."
"I love you Ginny Weasley," Harry whispered into her ear.
"I love you Harry James Potter," she grinned from ear to ear, "I just needed to hear you say that."
"Sickening, isn't it?" Severus joined his young godson, whose attention seemed to be focused on the dancing couples, namely Potter and that Weasley girl.
"So it's just you and me huh, Uncle Sev?" Draco gave his godfather a half smile.
"I suppose," Snape said bitterly, "but I don't understand why she'd choose Potter over you."
"Because I told her to," Draco answered.
"I see," Severus studied the blonde boy carefully, "you have changed, Draco."
"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you."
Snape raised an eyebrow, "you should—because I rarely give them—so the holidays—I assume you won't be returning to the Manor?"
"I was meaning to talk to you about that."
"Well if you were expecting me to let you sleep in my chambers for the rest of the year you are sorely mistaken."
"Well I could always crash at Nott's—"
"Don't be silly Draco, I mean—I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble to pull out the sofa for you—if I must."
"Thanks Uncle Sev."
"Excuse me?"
Severus and Draco both whirled around in their chairs to face the speaker, who turned out to be a girl—a very pretty girl.
"Are you Draco Malfoy?" the girl said in a strange accent.
"That's me," Draco subconsciously brushed his bangs out of his face.
"Cyprian Gay," the girl extended her hand, "I'm Remus's cousin, down from Clerkenwell."
"Charmed," Draco shook her hand, his eyes taking in the girl's long blonde hair, cool blue eyes, and flawless pale skin.
"Well, are you going to ask me to dance or stare at me all day?" the girl said snappily.
"That was the plan," Draco stuttered.
"Well come on then, let's not wait for the grass to grow."
"See you, Uncle Sev!"
"Have you been training with the ballet while we've been gone, Potter?" Draco touched Harry's shoulder as he and Cyprian began to dance.
Harry rolled his eyes but nodded, "hey Malfoy—thanks."
"We aren't friends Potter," Draco sneered, "don't forget it."
"Of course not," Harry shook his head fervently, "just—neutral."
"Fine then," Draco stared into the eyes of his dancing partner.
"That's the famous Harry Potter?" she stared at Harry incredulously, "but they told me he was a fox—I thought he was gay when I first saw him."
Draco liked this girl more and more.
"All right everybody," Tonks said as she held the bouquet high in the air, "it's time for a little Muggle tradition!"
"Oh she's going to throw it," Hermione clapped her hands excitedly.
"What does that have to do with anything, Granger?" Draco said rudely, annoyed that the slow song had been interrupted.
"Whoever catches it is next to get married," Hermione jumped up and down, "oh I hope it's me!"
"WHAT?" Ron said with a slightly frightened look on his face.
Tonks turned to throw the bouquet into the throng of young witches clamoring for it, but she had an unusually good arm, and it flew high above the crowd.
"I got it!" squealed Hermione excitedly.
"No I'll get it!" Ginny sprinted toward the bouquet, nearly knocking Hermione over.
Ron and Harry exchanged horrified looks.
Severus meanwhile was sitting quietly at his table working on a crossword puzzle and enjoying a glass of firewhiskey, minding his own business when suddenly—SMACK!
"What the devil!" Snape bellowed, holding the bouquet in the air, "who threw these cursed flowers at me? Well?"
Draco whistled. Ron and Harry's jaws dropped. Ginny and Hermione felt cheated. The rest of the assembly broke into quiet applause, but the phenomenon was quickly forgotten. What woman would want Severus Snape anyway?
"Congratulations on catching the bouquet Mr. Snape," said a voice with a thick Welsh accent.
"Dr. FITCH?" Snape said with horror, "you—you're a witch?"
"A Squib actually, yes, yes I knew you were a wizard—had no idea you worked with Dumbledore though, fine chap he is—I helped his poor brother through a crisis couple years back."
"So why are you here?" Snape said with wide eyes.
"Actually, I had hoped I might see you here," she smiled, "you know, just to see how you were doing with your new medication."
"I find it's helping my stress," he said with all the politeness he could muster, "err—would you like to—sit down?"
Dr. Fitch grinned at him, "I thought you'd never ask."
As Draco danced with his blonde girl, Potter with the Weasley girl, Granger with Weasley, Lupin with Tonks, Snape surveyed the scene with satisfaction.
It had turned out to be a bloody good wedding—and for him—that was saying something.
And for now…Mischief ManagedJ
The End