Rachel bit her lip as the bell chime woke her from her sleep. It was six in the morning of the day that she, Rachel Marie Black, was to marry Draco Thomas Malfoy. She showered quickly, knowing that any moment, her door would be opening to half a dozen witches to get her ready for that night's ceremony. It was to be done, as could be presumed, at midnight; the Dark Lord himself had honored them by insisting on conducting the ceremony. Rachel felt the warm water smooth it way down her body and sighed as she contemplated her situation. Things had changed between her and Draco, that was for sure. It seemed that every time she was around him, she felt somewhat strange. Like she was at home in comfort, yet still as frightened as if she were falling off a high cliff into a vast and icy ocean. In a few hours, they would be married and everything would change. She put on a robe of black silk and walked back into the room she would be sleeping in for the last time. After tonight, she would be in Draco's much larger chambers in his dark wooden bed with black and emerald satin sheets and coverings. She gave a small "Oh!" of an emotion almost like surprise, yet more like grief as she contemplated having to share a bed with Draco, in more than one way.
Of course, if they were married, that's what they were supposed to do, EXPECTED to do. Rachel just wasn't sure that she was ready for that sort of a commitment yet. She was still so young and had the sad wanting of holding onto the last bit of her innocence that was left. It was, in her mind, the one thing that separated her from the others. In her day, her Aunt Bella was an awful big flirt, as well as her Aunt Andromeda. The other noble, full-blooded witches and wizards found love-making to be a leisure-like activity; and if they were to incidentally procreate all the better for a good bloodline. Rachel, however, did not subscribe to this particular theory. No sooner did she enter the room than Narcissa and Bella entered, several house-elves in tow carrying various boxes and chests.
"Oh good, you're awake!" Narcissa smiled. "We have to get my daughter-in-law ready for her wedding!" Both the older women were beaming at her and Rachel gave them a small smile back. She barely had time to reflect on being called daughter-in-law when she was being stripped and then dressed. (She had on her underclothes.) While Narcissa tied her dress Bella was using magic to put make-up on Rachel's pale face. Rachel just stood there and let them ornament her like a life-sized doll and tried to take her mind off of her concerns for the time being, singing in her head. 'I'm getting married!'
Draco turned the faucets on to his preferred temperature and took the towel off of his waist before stepping into the shower. He closed his eyes as the water ran over his long blond hair and down his defined chest, trickling all the way down to his feet. He took his own precious time to wash off, attempting to relax before what was sure to be a grueling, tiresome day and night. He could hear some fussing coming from the next room and heard his mother's voice exclaim
"It would look sooo much better without a bra on, Rachel, Dear!" This sentence wove a smirk onto Draco's lips as he thought about Rachel removing her bra in what was surely an act of reluctance. He committed his own act of reluctance in shutting off the water as he heard a knock at his door. He let the water drip from his body onto the floor and wrapped the same green towel from before around his waist.
"Yes?" He opened the door, leaning on the frame.
"Master told me to bring this to you, young Master." A house-elf held up a chest for Draco, who took it and tossed onto the bed. Draco nodded and the house-elf fled. Reluctantly, he opened the chest to find his vestments for the night. They were to wear their wedding clothes all day long, something Draco was not looking forward to. They looked quite uncomfortable. He put them on slowly and then checked his reflection in the mirror. The black pants fit him well as did the boots that covered the bottom of his feet. The top was a medieval-looking tunic that was light and breezy in the color of blood and on top of it he wore a black vest.
"Not bad." He thought aloud as he admired his own reflection. He contemplated how to do his hair. It had grown far too long to slick it back like he had in his earlier years, he COULD put it in a bit of a ponytail, but didn't like the girly-ness of the thought. He settled for combing it nicely, the shortest parts of his long bangs just touching his well-carved cheekbones. With nothing else to do, he leaned back on his bed, propping himself up on the bedpost and entertained himself with a book. The whole picture of him was very inviting, and had Rachel seen him, she would have felt more than a little nervous. Draco just relaxed, trying to distract himself before the wedding.