Chapter 3
Hermione gazed down at the wriggling bundle of blankets. Her heart soared as she reached down to pull the bedding away from the baby's face. She instantly recoiled as she was met with a faceless child. Her strangled screams were drowned out by the piercing sound of metal against metal. Hermione scrambled to scoop up the baby. Her fingertips grazed the soft fabric just as the floor under her feet cracked and swallowed her into a never-ending darkness…
Hermione bolted up, covered in a cold sweat and tangled sheets. She wildly kicked the covers from her legs and stumbled to the open window. A light drizzle had begun and Hermione lifted her head up, letting the cool mist bring her back to reality.
"Just a dream," Hermione murmured to herself. She enjoyed the rain for another minute, before climbing back into the bed.
This was the third night in a row that she had had the same dream. She cursed herself for not getting her prescription refilled before leaving the states. Her mind had been so overwhelmed with her trip home, she neglected her appointment with the muggle therapist. Inevitably, she found one single night terror pill left in her purse, on her first night in England. It was going to be a longer month than she had originally thought.
For the next few hours, Hermione tossed and turned, never fully falling asleep. Anytime it seemed like she might finally drift off, her subconscious slapped her awake. At six o'clock, she finally gave up and went down for breakfast.
Ginny was back in Wales, with the Harpies, and she could hear Harry in the shower. Hermione took it upon herself to make up some waffles and bacon, before he had to head off to the ministry. Before she went back to New York, she had to teach that man how to at least scramble an egg to go with his toast.
"Mmm, Hermione you're going to spoil me," Harry sighed, sneaking a piece of bacon off the griddle, then promptly yelling about it being hot.
"If you'd have a little bit of patience, I could have gotten it out of the scalding grease for you," Hermione chided. She piled the sizzling slices onto a plate and, with her wand, summoned the waffle from it's iron and floated it to a plate in front of Harry.
"Ginny's gonna hex me if I don't fit into my tux at the fitting tonight," Harry mumbled, shoveling a chunk of waffle into his mouth.
"Harry, I don't think you've gained a single ounce since we left school," Hermione remarked, drowning her own waffle in sticky syrup. "Some of us should be so lucky to have that metabolism."
"You can't complain," Harry protested. "You look fantastic. Where's your ounce of fat?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew her body was far from grotesque, but it wasn't without constant maintenance.
"I also bike and walk miles around the city, everyday."
"True, and it pays off," Harry acknowledged. "Draco sure was appreciating it the other afternoon. I caught him checking you out."
"I presume Draco Malfoy checks out every arse that passes him by." Hermione stabbed at her waffle, causing her fork to scrape against the ceramic plate. Wincing at the sound, she dropped the fork and looked at Harry. "How on earth did you come to be friends with him? You've talked about having to work with him, but I never realized you two had become so close."
"I don't think we realized it either until it finally dawned on us that we were making excuses to hang out together," Harry shared. He took a gulp of orange juice and continued on. "I was wary about him at first, of course. When I got brought on as an Auror, he and his parents were just coming to trial. I could tell during Draco and Narcissa's testimony that they were sincere in their regrets and had, in the end, been part of the wrong side completely out of fear for what would inevitably happen if they tried to defect. Lucius wasn't as forthcoming with his testimony, and in the end served another year in Azkaban, on top of his heavy fines."
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. Worry lines, that no twenty-two year old should have, creased his forehead.
"After everything we had been through, I couldn't hold the past against him," Harry admitted. "He was only a child, trying to do what was expected of him. Just like us."
"Except that we didn't walk around with Death Eaters, calling people mudbloods," Hermione growled.
"Come off it, Hermione," Harry protested. "He was a scared kid that was looking for attention, and he went about getting it the only way he had been taught how. He's not his father. He's paid for his past mistakes, and has been a big help in rounding up a good deal of the Death Eaters that escaped after the battle."
Harry's back was rigid and his mouth set in a thin line. Hermione knew she had pushed him too far and backed down. Harry relaxed his defense a little and reached out for her hand.
"I know you took a lot of abuse from him," Harry consoled, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "And I'm sorry I didn't warn you ahead of time about him being my best man. I'm not asking you to forgive him and suddenly be his best friend too. Just give him the benefit of the doubt sometimes and maybe let go of the past a little. Keep holding it all against him, and you're no less a bully then he was."
"Dammit, I hate when you make sense," Hermione glowered. She let out her breath and managed a weak smile. "I will give it my best shot, for you and Ginny." She took a bite of waffle and chewed thoughtfully. "Draco doesn't think too much of Ron, does he?"
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "I have come to find that Ron is an acquired taste, appreciated by only a select few." He gave Hermione's hand one last pat before taking his dishes to the sink. "I'll be back around five-thirty tonight. I'm thinking Ginny should back around that time also. The fitting is at six, so we should probably apparate around quarter 'til."
"Wow. She might not be the most organized witch, but Ginny has you on a pretty solid schedule there," Hermione admired.
Harry laughed and kissed Hermione's head before flooing off to the Ministry.
Hermione changed into a pair of white shorts and a purple tank top. Perusing the bookshelf, Hermione found a cheesy muggle romance novel of Ginny's and took it to a lounge chair in the back garden. The earlier rain had done nothing to drive out the heavy, smothering heat.
The weather wasn't the only thing that was hot and heavy though. Halfway through the book, Hermione had to close it or else she'd need to detour to her bedroom and relieve some pent up tension. Flushed from the heat, both outside and inside her body, Hermione slipped on her trainers, grabbed her purse, and set off for the market, in the center of the village.
After strolling up and down the narrow aisles, Hermione decided on lamb and mint jelly, with grilled asparagus and roasted potatoes, for dinner. Back at the house, she pulled out a David Bowie album, from Harry's record collection, and set about singing and cooking. At ten to five, Hermione heard the sound of the floo and moments later a soaking wet Ginny trudged through, to the mudroom.
"Bit stormy in the south?" Hermione called, slicing up a loaf of bread.
"Could say that," Ginny mumbled. A few moments later, she padded back into the kitchen, wearing just her bra and knickers. "You know I'm going to have to hex you if I don't fit into my wedding gown," she said, laying her weary head on Hermione's shoulder.
"That's almost exactly what Harry told me this morning, when I made him waffles," Hermione laughed, leaning her head against her friend's.
"Damn, I missed waffles?" Ginny whined, pouting.
The floo sounded again, from the sitting room, and Harry ambled in. He stopped in the doorway and a grin spread across his face.
"I need to make it home early more often," he proclaimed, dropping his messenger bag and sauntering over to the island.
"Like we'd invite you," Ginny taunted, as Harry came up behind her.
"I'll be happy to just watch," he purred, wrapping his arms around Ginny's bare waist and nuzzling her neck.
"Leave me out of your kinky fantasies," Hermione scoffed, slapping Harry's arm. "Since you're both home early, we can actually enjoy dinner instead of hurrying through it."
"Just let me go put on some clothes." Ginny gave Harry a kiss and hurried off, up the stairs.
Hermione glanced back as Harry watched his fiancé's backside disappear to the second floor. She felt a pang of jealousy at the wanton need she saw in his eyes. Not that she wanted Harry, of course. As much as others had wanted there to be something more between them, her and Harry's relationship never went beyond a brother/sister love for each other. As far as romance went, Harry only had eyes for Ginny.
Hermione just missed having someone look at her in that way. Her and Ron had had that at the beginning. One minute he'd be staring at her, as she was washing dishes or folding the laundry. The next, he had her pinned on top of the kitchen table, ripping her shirt off like it was nothing more than a tissue. On her more lonely nights, Hermione could still feel all of him, pulsing against her, as she begged him not to stop.
But, it had stopped. All the chemistry in the bedroom couldn't mask the unrest that was between them in the real world. At first, all the fighting led to amazing reconciliations between the sheets. It wasn't long, though, before fighting became more frequent than sex and neither of them could stand the sight of the other.
Hermione sighed and pushed the thoughts of sex and her ex-husband to the back of her mind. She would be seeing him within the hour, for the first time in two years, and she wanted to be calm and cool, with a hint of aloofness. Not the weak and sobbing mental case that she constantly felt like.
She met Harry's eyes with a weak smile and he pulled her into an understanding hug.
"You'll be fine, Min," Harry whispered. "In the end, he's just Ron."
"Yup, just Ron," Hermione sniffled.
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Draco arrived at Willow's Wedding Essentials a few minutes before six. A small chime above the door signaled his arrival to the empty shop. Looking around, he saw the right side of the store was devoted to tuxes, suits, and formal wizard robes. To the left, the racks were filled with endless white gowns and robes. Over the last few years, muggle style wedding attire had become a trend and Draco could see why. The dress adorning a mannequin seemed to hug a witch quite nicely. Of course, getting a witch into one of those dresses requires a proposal. These days Draco never so much as proposed a second date.
"Are you a part of the Potter/Weasley wedding party?" a sugary voice called.
Draco pulled his gaze away from the dress and met the alluring blue eyes of a tall, blonde witch.
"I am indeed," Draco replied, letting his gaze wander a little lower to her snug, white sweater and black, pencil skirt.
"Are you the groom?" she asked, her bright red lips twitching upwards.
"No, I am definitely not." Not that it looked like that would have stopped this particular woman. Draco would have to remember to give Harry a warning before letting this huntress measure his inseam. "I'm the best man."
"You most certainly are," the brazen temptress cooed, running her finger tips along his arm. "I'm Kirsten, Ms Willow's assistant."
"I'll be sure to call on you then, should I need assistance," Draco casually replied, leaning a few inches closer to Kirsten.
The door chime sounded and Kirsten quickly withdrew. Draco smirked as she stood up straight and scurried to the front desk. Without turning around, the new voices told him that they had just been joined by the bride and groom.
He slowly turned around to greet them, but they were already in discussion with Kirsten. Hermione was standing off to the side, glaring at him, with her arms crossed. What had her knickers in a twist already? If only she'd drop the attitude, he'd happily untwist them for her.
"Like what you see, Granger?"
She pursed her lips and started walking towards him. "Bit of an obvious pull there, isn't it Malfoy?" she spurned, breezing by him to look at the dresses.
Draco glared at the back of her head. Didn't she know that that was the point? If he is had to work to get into a witch's bed, it wasn't worth it.
More of the wedding party entered the shop and Hermione looked up from the gown she had been inspecting. The way her body went stiff and her eyes widened, Draco knew who had turned up. Without a word, Hermione turned and walked deeper into the store.
Draco turned around and nodded at the tall red head. "Weasley," he acknowledged.
"Malfoy," Ron replied, striding past him. Ron stopped for a moment, watching Hermione, before detouring right, to the wizards' section.
"Are we all here?" an old witch called, standing in the center of the shop and looking around her. Her snow white hair was pulled back in a long braid, and half moon glasses hung from a silver chain around her neck.
"Yes, Ms Willow, this is our crew," Ginny assured, squeezing through to the shop owner. "Where should we start?"
"I'd like to get the bride and groom out of the way first. While we finalize those measurements, the others can get changed and we'll work out their details last," Ms Willow asserted. "If I am correct, you have yet to settle on a color scheme."
"No, we have not," Ginny sighed.
"Kirsten, why don't you take Genevra here and help her into her dress, and then pass out the other ladies' dresses." Ms Willow ordered, pointing to the witches' dressing room. "I will take these fine gentlemen back and let them get into their tuxes. Come, come," the old witch beckoned.
Draco followed Harry and the other groomsmen into the fitting room area. For her age, Ms Willow worked quickly and efficiently. Draco had a zippered garment bag pressed into his chest and was bustled into a dressing stall. He easily slipped into the tux and attempted to knot his bowtie, finding it trickier than just a regular necktie. Three attempts later, and he left the stall with the tie hanging loose around his neck. Charlie and George were already out and dressed, getting fussed over by Ms Willow.
Draco admired himself in one of the three-sixty mirrors. The tuxes were standard black, with white collared shirts. The vests and bowties remained colorless. Usually he preferred a darker shirt, so as not to completely wash out his pale complexion, but he could work with the white.
Ms Willow turned her critical eye on him, swishing her wand up and down his inseam and around his waist and chest.
"Perfect Mr. Malfoy, thank you," she declared, waving him off.
Draco scurried out to the shared area with Charlie and George. None of the girls had come out yet and the other men seemed content in their conversation, so Draco wandered about the shop as he waited for the others.
"Hermione!"
Draco glanced back and saw George wrapping Hermione in a hug, a grin spreading across her face. What was it about the Weasleys that made that girl happy?
"You think you can just sneak back into the country and ignore your favorite brother?" George joked, kissing her head.
"Who said you're her favorite brother?" Charlie countered, nudging George out of the way.
"Hi Charlie," Hermione laughed, giving the eldest brother a hug. When she released him, she caught Draco's eye. She patted Charlie's shoulder and started walking over to Draco.
Hermione's dress was colorless, with one strap sweeping over her left shoulder. The bodice and strap were thin and lacy, with an equally thin mesh skirt that fell to just above her knees. As she grew nearer, Draco's eyes grew wide. Bless the gods, she wasn't wearing a bra and the shop's cooling charms were working a treat on her perky breasts and nipples.
"Close your mouth. You're drooling Malfoy," Hermione commanded.
"Do you get off on giving orders, Granger?"
"Wouldn't you like to know what gets me off," she jeered, eyes narrowing.
Draco thought he actually wouldn't mind knowing that factoid, but didn't tell her that. Instead he let out a haughty sigh and asked, "I assume you came over here for something?"
"I was going to offer you some help." Hermione gestured to his bowtie. "May I?"
Draco hesitated for a moment, before giving her a curt nod. She gently lifted his chin and then deftly worked the strip of fabric into a perfect bow.
"You look more put together now." She gently patted the tie, her fingertips grazing his neck.
"Do my ears detect a compliment?"
"I do have a little sugar and spice left in me," Hermione answered, smiling and letting her fingers linger on his collar.
A loud cough turned their heads to the back of the shop. Ron was now standing with his brothers, glaring at Draco and Hermione.
"Don't let us ruin such a touching moment," Ron snarled.
"Don't worry, you weren't," Draco casually replied.
Hermione wasn't as amused. She narrowed her eyes and growled, "Mind your own business, Ronald," before she sashayed off to the opposite side of the shop.
Draco watched her hips swish under the mesh and wondered if she was doing that on purpose. Either way, he was starting to think he'd like to sample a bit of that sugar. Though he doubted if Hermione could loosen up enough to give anyone a taste, let alone him.
Ms Willow came shuffling out as the last two bridesmaids and Ginny came out of the dressing area. "Right, Genevra. We need to sort out colors. What were you thinking?"
"Draco," Ginny called, searching through the throng of people. Draco gave her a wave and she beckoned him forward. "Can you stand beside Hermione please? I want to try a few colors out, to see what works best. We're going to make your colors a slightly darker shade, to make your positions stand out a bit," she said, with a wink.
Draco moved to stand next to Hermione, as Ginny and Ms Willow looked them over.
"If it helps, I'm partial to green," Draco suggested.
"Not for a summer wedding, Draco," Ginny remarked. "What about magenta?"
Ms Willow flicked her wand and Hermione and Draco's clothes lit up in bright pink.
Draco looked down and frowned. "Potter, don't let her do this to us," he pleaded.
Harry hid his laugh, but his eyes twinkled merrily.
"No, dear. They both have too pale of complexions for something so bright." Ms Willow flicked her wand again and the pink switched to a deep red.
"That's not going to work with Weasly hair," Harry commented.
Ms Willow cloaked them in royal blue, charcoal grey, rustic orange. Each one getting a shake of her head.
"Try a deep, plum color," Hermione finally offered. "It won't wash either of us out, and a softer lilac color should look fine on the rest of the party."
From the corner of his vision, Draco saw Ron roll his eyes. Apparently, the action was not lost on Hermione either.
"Yes, even on the men, Ronald," she gritted, without looking directly at her ex.
Draco snorted, trying to keep his composure. Ms Willow waved her wand and the orange was replaced with a dark purple.
"Ooh, I like that!" Ginny exclaimed. "Go have a look."
Draco followed Hermione to a three-sixty mirror and watched as she slowly spun around. She was right- the color was a good compliment to her milky complexion. Draco eyed himself skeptically in the mirror. It wouldn't go down in the books as his favorite color, but it was acceptable for one day.
"Not a bad choice, Granger," Draco admitted, taking off the jacket and getting a full view of the vest. "I can work with this." He caught Kirsten's eye and winked.
"Happy to be of service," Hermione grumbled, stepping away from the mirror. "Gin, is it okay if I go change?"
"Go ahead," Ginny called, not bothering to look over. She was working on getting the perfect shade of lilac on the other bridesmaids' dresses.
Hermione stalked off back to the dressing room and Draco worked his way over to Harry.
"I'm going to go change also, and get going," Draco said, patting Harry's shoulder. "While this has been a fun filled evening, rest assured we have something even better planned for Friday night."
"I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a little scared, Malfoy."
"I'd be offended if you weren't, mate."