Evaluate This!

Chapter 17

Black roses and Tombstones


Draco sat with his fiancé by his side; she was clutching his hand tightly—too tightly. He tried to wiggle his fingers, but that only made Pansy smile and scoot closer to him. He grimaced, but managed to put on his trademark smirk as Hermione entered the room.

Hermione sat down and reviewed the questions she was required to ask of each couple. She laughed inside as she watched Malfoy try to squirm away from Pansy.

"So have you two decided on a theme or your color scheme for the wedding?"

"Yes."

"No."

Pansy elbowed Draco in the ribs. "Be quiet, if you know what's good for you."

Hermione shook her head, keeping her face placid. "I'm sure you realize that you must discuss and agree together upon this."

Pansy nodded her head. "We understand that."

"No you don't." Draco mumbled.

"Shush." Pansy smiled sweetly at Hermione. "He doesn't know what's good for him."

Hermione smiled back, watching Malfoy flush pink with anger. "Though I agree wholeheartedly with you," she nodded to Pansy, "I'm supposed to let you both speak and help you come to a decision."

Pansy's eyes scrunched together as she contemplated what might be said if Draco were allowed to speak freely. Shrugging, she sighed. "If I have to."

"There's the spirit we're looking for." Hermione thought she heard Malfoy growl. "Do you have something to say Draco?" she asked sweetly.

Draco held back the urge to…well, do something very unpleasant…and wrong. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."

The two girls stared at him; their eyes intense, Draco felt himself shrink back—away from them both.

Pansy laughed. "See, this is why I don't let him talk on his own. He's so lost without guidance."

Hermione nodded. "I see what you mean." This time she distinctly heard a growl coming from the Slytherin.

"So, your idea, Pansy, for your wedding?"

Pansy sat forward, tugging Draco so that he had to sit up with her. "I was thinking…"

"Merlin, please don't say pink." Draco mumbled.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I was thinking about a dominatrix sort of theme."

Hermione coughed, leaning forward to hide the surprise on her face. When she managed to look up, Pansy was looking dreamy while Draco was as pale as a ghost.

"I…I'm not sure that that would be, um, appropriate."

"Damn right it's not!" Draco screamed, standing suddenly.

"Sit down." Both girls commanded. Draco stared, his mouth gaping, before, defeated, he sat back down.

"I'll have to check to see if you can do that. In the meantime, I think we should discuss, um, an alternate option."

"Oh, well, I guess that's a good idea."

Draco let out his breath, maybe now he'd get a say in what he wanted.

Unfortunately for him, Pansy and Hermione seemed to be forming a friendship based on his discomfort. The ideas getting rolled off became more and more and more—Draco shook his head—ridiculous.

"Oh, what do you think about this?" Pansy scuttled over from where she'd been tearing through muggle magazines Hermione had brought with her.

Hermione glanced over them and squealed. "Oh my!" She cried, looking pointedly at Draco.

Draco sighed and thought of how nice it would be if he'd just melt, melt away. He moaned as Pansy let out a shriek of delight, clapping her hands and jumping up and down—he covered his eyes and imagined how pleasant it would be to just die. He observed the two girls, glancing at the clock above them. They'd been at this for more than three hours…didn't Hermione have some other person to torture?

He watched them, as they poured over magazines and diagrams and just came up with completely ludicrous ideas…none of which he would ever—ever—ever—ever agree to.

"I think we should do a rendition of this!" Pansy said, shoving a torn page under Hermione's nose.

Hermione looked the paper over. "So," she looked at Draco, "What do you think about a who-nose?"

"Who knows? What? I don't get it!" Draco squirmed in his seat as Hermione grinned.

"You know, the Who's of Whosville? Their noses kind of grow right out of their top lip. Oh and they put eggs on a plate and wear it on their shirt and put eggnog in a punch bowl and wear it like a hat. What do you think Drakie?"

Pansy tapped Hermione's shoulder. "You can't call him Drakie."

"My apologies."

Pansy watched Draco carefully. "However, you can call him what I used to call him."

Draco turned rigid.

"What might that have been?" Hermione asked, her eyes going to Malfoy who had suddenly began doing a very good impression of a piece of wood.

"Well, it's a long story…" Pansy drawled, prolonging the torture as Draco's left eye twitched.

"Oh, we've got all day." Hermione said. "I told Ms. Danna that I would need the whole day with you two."

"And you were right." Pansy interjected.

"Touché."

Amid giggles and laughter, Draco paced the now candle lit room. He'd become nothing more than the passing shadow, neither Pansy nor Hermione had acknowledged his existence since he'd tried—and failed—to throw in his opinion. He could probably spontaneously combust and they wouldn't notice.

Or care.

"So, we've decided on a pale lavender for your bridesmaids and a classic pureblood style wedding, correct?"

"Yes, and powder blue tux's for the best groomsmen. Oh, and I think that the best man should be a different color from the rest, and so should the maid of honor."

Hermione scratched down the requests. "Okay, so, what colors?"

Draco tuned them out. The endless discussing of colors or fabrics or colors and fabrics or colors of printed fabric…he was going to go insane.

"Too late." He murmured to himself…he continued pacing…but something was different. His footsteps slowed, and his eyes came off the floor to see two sets of female eyes staring at him. "What?"

"You talked." Hermione kept a straight face as the blond Slytherin ran a hand through his hair.

Pansy sniffled. "He's going to ruin it!" She cried, breaking down into tears.

Draco's jaw hit the floor. "I didn't do a damn thing! What is your problem Pansy?"

Pansy looked up at Hermione with teary eyes. "You see what I have to go through?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco wanted to pull his hair out. "You can't fucking believe this!" He motioned to Pansy. "Why are you siding with her? Why?"

"I'm not siding with anyone Malfoy." Hermione said, her face remaining composed.

"Arghhh! Yes you are!"

"No. I'm not." Her voice was calm.

"How can you sit there and do this to me!" Draco's voice was nearing a very high pitch.

"I'm not doing anything." Hermione patted the now sobbing Pansy on the back.

Draco did a very impromptu dance…one with a lot of kicking, jumping, and air punching.

"You done yet?"

Draco sneered. "No." But instead of staying another minute, he walked out of the room.

Pansy sat up.

"You got a real gem in that one."

Wiping the fake tears from her eyes, Pansy grinned. "Don't I know it." She smoothed her hair back, glanced at the clock. "Well, I think it's time you paid up."

Hermione shook her head and handed Pansy two galleons. "He couldn't have held out for twenty more minutes."

"Nope. He can't stand being ignored for more than an hour—it's hard on his ego."

"You would know." Hermione yawned. "So, I think I've got what you want down. All's I need now is a song—for you two to dance to."

"Oh, I've had that picked out for years." Pansy grabbed a quill and scribbled something down on a piece of paper, handing it to Hermione.

"I'll see what I can do."


As soon as Hermione had finally straightened up her makeshift office, she left. The halls was deserted, all students were in their dormitories. Picking up the knit sweater she'd brought with her, she put it on and headed outside.

The sky was clean, the kind of crisp clean that comes during fall and lasts through winter—leaving the sky a wonderful pattern of sparkling diamonds. Dreams.

Hermione stared at the sky, remembering a time when she'd look up at those stars as a little girl and wish—wish for something extraordinary to happen to her.

"What are you doing? You should be back in our room by now."

Hermione groaned. If only her wish had come true. A world without Malfoy…oh what a world that would be.

"Our room, Malfoy?"

"Yes, our room. Got a problem?"

"Yes—I"

"No. Shut up. No more talking."

Hermione had to put her hand over her mouth to control her laughing. "I know you've been whipped, but seriously don't take out your pathetic excuse of male ego on me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She's horrible."

"I could say the same thing about you."

Draco looked incredulous. "What could you possibly be talking about?"

"Easy, you've made many people's lives hell, including mine. So I'd say, your getting what you deserve."

"No one deserves this."

Hermione could only shake her head.

"You want to take a walk?"

"So that you can murder me in the deep dark woods, no, I don't think so."

"I don't want to kill you. What would be the fun in that?"

"What would you want?"

"I'd want to marry you."


Blaise and Ginny didn't need Hermione's help…except for ordering and obtaining decorations. They had already worked everything out.

"May I just say, you two are doing really great. I think the psychologists didn't do too good of research."

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked.

"I just meant that they were trying to pair us off for the worst."

Ginny and Blaise shrugged.

"I guess we just overcame our differences."

"And quickly found out what we had in common."

Hermione applauded.


It wasn't that easy however for poor Ron. Hermione slouched in the chair, nodding her head tiredly at Ron who had been talking non-stop since he and Charlotte had walked in. Charlotte mirrored Hermione, slumped in her seat and on the verge of tears.

"She doesn't respect my wishes. She doesn't do anything but make fun of me. She puts me down constantly. I can't do this, it is immoral to put us together, and she told me to jump out a window. Not that I would mind you, even though it would get me away from her, but Malfoy already did that and I can't follow in his footsteps. And I think she knew this when she said it cause she looked really smug and I just wanted to smack her but mum said I could never hurt a girl or anyone but I think she'd make an exception for Malfoy and all those other pureblood idiots. She hates me, she's done nothing but tell me so since I met her on the train. And my hair is not pumpkin orange. Its red! Red! I am a red head not a pumpkin head! I do not have large ears, I measured them, they are just fine, between my eyes and nose, and they are the right size! So stop making fun of my ears. And for the last time, I don't have pale skin; I'm a red head! I don't know what her problem is; I can't open my mouth without her yelling at me to shut it. I can't walk down the hallway without her screaming at me that I'm stupid, or dumb, or dimwitted, or a pumpkin head!"

Hermione's eyebrow rose and Charlotte shrugged. "Ron, let me clue you in on something, it's called 'puppy love' and Charlotte has it bad for you."

"And there you go again, saying all these muggle words!" He turned to Charlotte. "I am NOT a muggle! I did not grow up with that stupid crap! I do not know what the hell you guys are talking about. I know what love means, and I know what a puppy is, but what the hell is 'puppy love'? It probably doesn't even mean anything. You just made up a new word to confuse me again."

"Would you please just shut up!"

Ron ground to a halt.

Hermione said a silent blessing. "Okay, Ron, now calmly sit down in that chair…over there." She had begun to point to the chair next to Charlotte, but reconsidered.

Ron sat down and Charlotte yawned. "Finally."

"What is your problem?" Ron screamed.

Shaking her head Hermione pushed on Ron's shoulders, keeping him seated. "She is only messing with you. Calm down."

"I don't understand what I did wrong." Ron said miserably.

"You breathe." Charlotte hissed.

"So do you." Ron replied—completely missing the implication.

Hermione sat back down, watching Ron as he mumbled. "How bout we do this in a really simple manner. Okay? This is what we'll do. I will ask a question, you can only answer if you raise your hand and I call on you. Got it?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

"That goes for you too. I told you to lay off him for a bit."

"I just wanted him to see what he was going to be coming home to each night."

"Oh Merlin." Ron slumped in his seat. "I am never getting married. Ever."

"I second that." Charlotte flipped her hair out of her face. "You should never be given the opportunity to reproduce."

"Damn it, what is your problem?" Ron stood.

Hermione leapt up to intercept an almost angry Ron. "I am enacting the no talking without permission policy right now. Sit down, Ron!" she shoved him back in his chair. "Neither of you are to move unless I say so, talk unless I say so, or breathe. Got it?"

Ron nodded.

Charlotte only glared fingering the pendant around her neck she slowly raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Can I glare?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course. Now. Have either of you got an idea of what you want to do for your wedding?"

"Tombstones." Charlotte muttered.

"Raise your hand if you want to speak. Remember?" Ron mimicked Hermione.

"I'll speak when I want, and where I want you Pumpkin head."

"I am not a Pumpkin head!"

"ENOUGH!" Hermione took a deep breath. "You two are worse than children. Grow up!"

Both Ron and Charlotte glared at the floor.

"What did you mean by 'Tombstones'?"

Charlotte sighed. "Well, since this isn't exactly a peachy predicament, I thought it rather fitting if Pumpkin head and I were married in a graveyard."

"Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "Whatever she wants, give it to her. I'm just going to be the corpse standing next to her. Maybe then our honeymoon could be to go see hell, cause I think the devil and Charlotte have a lot of catching up to do."

Hermione nodded, a small grin on her face. "Always a bright spot in even the darkest room."

Ron grinned, his old cheery self back. "Yep!"


Harry and Miriam were quiet as Hermione searched for another well of ink. "So do you guys have an idea yet about your wedding?"

"Yes." Miriam said softly as she watched Hermione crawl under the desk after the paper she'd knocked down there in search for the ink. "Taxidermy, actually."

A loud thump was heard and Harry grinned. Hermione emerged from under the desk.

"Are you serious?"

"Completely." Miriam took Harry's hand.

Hermione stared at them wide-eyed.

For one minute.

Two.

Three..

Four…

Four and a half…

Harry waved his hand in front of Hermione. "It was a joke. She isn't serious."

"But I am serious about the snakeskin suit."

"I am not wearing anything made out of a snake." Harry crossed his arms.

"Many snakes."

"That's just sick."

Hermione nodded her head, agreeing with Harry. "I wouldn't support that, so you can drop all thoughts of a snakeskin suit."

Miriam shrugged. "Okay, how about a gorilla suit?"

"How bout not." Harry rubbed his head. "I think we should have a historical based wedding. I'll let you choose the time period if you'll lay off this costume obsession."

Miriam sat for a moment. "Fine, sounds good. Are we done yet?" She looked to Hermione.

"All's I need is the time period and you're done for today."

After the last couple had left, Hermione began to sort the mess of notes. Her job was more difficult than she had initially expected. She had to book bands, initiate spells, find spells…it was going to be a long week. A very long week.


A/N: Please Review...