~eighteen~
The wedding of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley turned out to be a highly enjoyable affair for all concerned after the swift departure of the wizarding press. All the guests palpably relaxed and Draco found himself really enjoying himself, as the afternoon passed quickly by and the evening's festivities approached.
Draco had attended many lavish pureblood nuptials over the years, with cold ceremonies and stuffy wedding receptions. Those occasions were nearly always more about etiquette and social rivalry than having anything to do with love and celebration.
He found this wedding to be nothing of the sort and discovered a real appreciation for the rustic outdoor wedding breakfast, seated at long benches adorned with yellow wildflowers and a charming cacophony of mismatched crockery and cutlery.
The elf made wine was flowing easily and Draco found this seemed to be giving many guests the confidence to approach him and to strike up pleasant conversation which he returned in earnest appreciation.
As the evening drew near, a magical canopy was erected overhead complete with those floating lights in glass jars that Draco recognised from his mother's gala. He smiled to himself as he recognised Hermione's influence. The seating was carefully rearranged around an open dancefloor and the festivities began with a wizarding band striking up lively tunes with the occasional muggle song thrown in for good measure.
Draco had been inwardly horrified when Mrs Weasley had unceremoniously dragged him up onto the dance floor, holding his hand and waist strongly in a very close position as they two-stepped awkwardly around the dancefloor. He was able to draw on all of his Slytherin cool to not convey his feelings outwardly, but very nearly broke when he saw Hermione, Harry and Neville all snickering wildly at the side of the dancefloor, while the Weasley siblings looked on in abject horror.
To add further insult to injury, Luna then nonchalantly began snapping several photographs.
Draco had thanked Mrs Weasley in his most convincing imitation of earnest gratitude as the song had mercifully come to an end, before swiftly legging it over to Hermione and helping himself to her drink, downing it in one swift gulp.
"You fucking arses," he muttered with a scowl as they howled with laughter.
"Oh Draco," Hermione cooed, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes before leaning to give him a hug. "I thought it was very sweet of you."
He gave her a broad, fake smile as Harry approached, still laughing and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "As if the security guards thing wasn't enough, you go and honour me with that little performance as well! Best. Gifts. Ever!"
Draco froze at Harry's words and Hermione gave a puzzled glance between the two men.
"Security guards?" she asked in wonder.
Draco narrowed his eyes as he glowered at Neville who was standing nearby, gazing at the canopied ceiling with wide eyed innocence.
"Longbottom?" Draco asked mutely.
"Hey! Hey! You can't blame Neville. Look, after I spoke to Pireness I started to put things together and came to the conclusion that it was all Neville's doing. Neville didn't want to take the credit, Malfoy. So he told me, alright? And really, we're truly grateful."
"Yes we really are!" Ginny added as she approached and slid her arms around her husband.
"It's meant so much for Harry's work mates to be able to be our guests."
"Not to mention how brilliant those guys were with the press and photographers!" Harry added. "It's made a world of difference to our day, Malfoy and we can't thank you enough."
Draco looked over at Neville who was mouthing the word "sorry" at him with a wincing expression that begged for mercy.
Draco shook his head with a sigh.
"Think nothing of it," he replied resignedly.
Hermione continued to look around at her friends and boyfriend with outright surprise.
"You mean, all these unconventional looking aurors that have been skulking around all day, were arranged in secret? By Draco?'
"Yep!" Ginny replied with a grin. "Pretty cool huh? Now come on husband, I think it's time for our first dance!"
"Yes Mrs Potter," Harry replied, earning himself a lascivious grin from his wife and making his way to the dance floor as their first dance was announced.
Hermione stood staring up at Draco, eyebrows raised challengingly as he patently ignored her and snatched up another glass of elf-made wine from a passing tray.
The other guests came to gather around to watch the happy couple, but Hermione didn't take her eyes from Draco.
"I can't believe you did that for Harry and Gin," she said softly.
He sighed before finally dropping his gaze down to hers. "I didn't just do it for them," he admitted quietly, reaching forwards to tuck a wayward lock of curly hair behind her ear.
She sighed and smiled up at him, shaking her head in continued disbelief before turning to watch her friends enjoy their first dance together as man and wife.
The early evening soon turned to night and Draco found that his following ventures onto the dancefloor were far more enjoyable than his first. The tempo of the evening began to slow and Hermione was pressed to Draco in a close embrace as they danced to a muggle song that he had never heard before.
Draco was once again caught up in the words that seemed to speak to him about his feelings for Hermione, just as the poem in Potter's wedding vows had earlier in the day.
We were young, we were wrong,
We were fine all along,
If there's somebody calling me on
She's the one.
When you get to where you wanna go
And you know the things you wanna know
You're smiling,
When you said what you wanna say
And you know the way you want to play, yeah,
You'll be so high, you'll be flying.
Though the sea will be strong
I know we'll carry on,
'Cause if there's somebody calling me on
She's the one…
Draco gazed intently into Hermione's eyes as they danced closely. His mind was racing as he tried to comprehend how the events of recent years had somehow led up to this moment.
He, Draco Malfoy, was attending the wedding of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, being welcomed and accepted and was enjoying dancing the night away with the witch of his dreams in his arms. And that witch just happened to be Hermione Granger.
It was hard to believe that only four years ago, he had been pointing his wand at Dumbledore, unable to see any logical path ahead that would lead him to a happy future. If Hermione hadn't spoken in his defence at his trial, he would most certainly have ended up in Azkaban and his life in ruins.
He owed her so, so much. To now think that she had not only forgiven him but had also found herself able to move so far on from their past to be able to begin a relationship with him was incomprehensible.
He swallowed thickly as he became overwhelmed by his emotions, battling to keep them in check.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked with concern, taking in his intense expression.
"I'm fine," he replied, quickly drawing his feelings within.
Hermione withdrew slightly and looked him over, appraising his pensive mood. She hummed to herself and took his hand in hers, leading him casually away from the dance floor.
"Well I'm feeling rather done in," she said, grabbing a half- drank bottle of firewhiskey that had been left unattended on a nearby table and discretely concealing it. She then continued to lead Draco away and towards the exit.
"Come on… let's go have a little night cap shall we?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows mischievously.
"You sure?" Draco asked, not wanting her to miss out on the late evening festivities on account of him.
"Absolutely." she replied. "The party is on its last legs now anyway, and it's not like we need to announce our departure and thank our hosts now is it? We'll be seeing them tomorrow."
Draco gave a nod and a shrug of relent, and seeing that no one had even noticed their imminent departure, followed Hermione eagerly away.
Once outside the canopied reception, Hermione immediately bent down and removed her shoes, taking a sharp breath and giving a sigh of relief as her aching soles made contact with the cool grass beneath.
"Feels good?" Draco asked.
"You have no idea." she replied. "I've been casting a slipper-soft charm on them all day, but it's been losing its efficacy due to repeated application."
She uncorked the bottle of firewhiskey and took a hearty swig as they made their way down the hill and towards the tents.
"Bloody hell Granger, you want to go easy! Firewhiskey on top of all that wine is not a winning combination," Draco warned, playfully.
"What, even if it's medicinal?"
"Medicinal?"
"Yes - to numb the pain of my poor aching feet!" she explained, before taking another sip.
Draco scoffed before snatching the bottle from her hand and taking a large swig of his own.
They entered the field that housed the tents, finding it blissfully empty. Little floating jar lights were dotted all around, helping them to find their way as the sound of another slow ballad and the chatter of the wedding guests drifted down the hill on the breeze.
Their tent was also cosily lit with the soft twinkling lights that welcomed them as they ducked through the curtained entrance. Draco paused to remove his jacket and tie, tossing them down on the small chaise and opening his top shirt buttons with relief.
Looking up, he found that Hermione had already made her way over to the bed and was lying back on it, arms outstretched, with her lower legs dangling over the edge. Draco gave a low chuckle at her ungraceful posture and made his own way over to join her on the bed.
He kicked off his shoes and removed his emerald cufflinks from his sleeves. He then hiked his legs up on the bed and reclined back against the soft headboard.
Hermione spun herself around, bringing her own legs up and onto the bed, but lying the opposite way around to Draco in a top to tail position. She propped herself up on her elbows and gently placed her right foot on his chest with a pleading expression, wiggling her toes suggestively.
Draco feigned ignorance, crossing his arms and closing his eyes in a fake sleep.
"Draco…" Hermione whined, worming her toes into his armpit and tickling him with another wiggle of her toes.
"Hey!" he yelled, abruptly squirming sideways and grabbing the offending foot.
"Well look at that!" Hermione said with a gleeful smile. "You may as well give it a little rub now that you've got hold of it."
Draco rolled his eyes and gave a quiet 'hmph' of derision.
"Really Granger? I bet you say that to all the boys?"
She smacked him playfully before he predictably relented and began to indulge her with a firm foot massage, slowly and carefully kneading away the aches and pains of their long day. She sighed contentedly, lying back and offering her second foot for the same treatment after a few minutes.
Draco willingly obliged, using it as an opportunity to ogle Hermione's beautiful form once more as she lay before him.
"It's been an incredible day, Draco," Hermione announced quietly after a few moments.
"It has indeed."
"I'm so glad that you came," she added, removing her feet from his grasp and spinning once more to lie alongside him, resting her head on his chest.
"I'm glad you asked me," he replied, enveloping her in his arms and stroking her back and shoulders lovingly.
They lay holding each other in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the music and revelry at The Burrow beyond. Draco gently reached for his wand, extinguishing the light inside the bedroom and casting an invisibility charm on the ceiling above them, making it instantly transparent.
Hermione gave a short gasp, turning her head to get a better view of the twinkling stars above them.
"I always loved Astronomy classes at school," she said, her eyes roaming over the skies.
"Hmmm?" Draco responded. "I guess I enjoyed it, but being a descendant of the noble and most ancient House of Black gave me something of a head start on everyone else."
"Oh, of course! All named after constellations?"
"Well, not quite all. But a lot of us, that's for sure. And it's an expectation that any Black offspring are able to identify all the family namesakes in the night sky by the time they are five years old."
Hermione was quiet for a moment before she tentatively asked; "And what about you, Draco? Do you plan to continue the constellation tradition with children of your own? Assuming you want to have children, that is?"
"Oh I definitely want to have children," he replied without missing a beat. "Marriage, children, the whole shebang. And I guess I would like to carry on the tradition because, let's face it, there are not many other family traditions from the Black-Malfoy line that I would particularly want to continue, you know?"
"Hmm, yes I suppose so," Hermione agreed quietly.
"But I suppose it all depends on the lucky witch who gets to marry me," he continued, stretching out nonchalantly with a smirk. "I suppose I'd have to let her have a say in it before I go and name her child 'Scutum' or 'Camelopardalis'."
Hermione let out a snigger. "Yes, I think that might be wise Draco. So… go on then, astronomy expert. Who can you see up there right now?"
Accepting her challenge, Draco scooted down the bed slightly so that his face was closely pressed to the side of hers and took hold of her hand, guiding it gently whilst pointing out the stars with their vision aligned.
"Well, for starters there is my mother's star, Narcissus, which can be found in the Gemini constellation. The twins of Gemini are Pollux - which was my Great Grandfather's name, and Caspar. Casper Black was my Great Grandfather's cousin. Great Grandfather Pollux had a sister, my Great, Great Aunt and she was named Cassiopeia, which is… here. Over here, we have Grandfather Cygnus the swan and his brother, Great Uncle Orion is easily recognisable of course, right...there. Cygnus was actually the name of my Great, Great, Great Grandfather as well."
"Wow." Hermione said quietly. She noted how he had avoided pointing out Aunt Bellatrix's star with a smile of gratitude to herself.
"There are a few others. But of course we also have the most impressive and dazzling constellation known to human-kind, I present to you, the handsome 17-65. Otherwise known as… yours truly."
Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes at his vanity.
"Of course. The never- setting, mighty dragon," she sighed and snuggled back into his chest. Humouring his vanity she asked him to tell her more about his namesake.
Draco pulled her in closely again and quietly began to retell the myth associated with the dragon.
"To begin, the dragon's name was actually Ladon and it was tasked by Hera to guard the golden apples in the gardens of the Hesperides, Atlas' daughters. Ladon was placed around the tree so that the Hesperides would not pick any apples from it."
"As part of his twelve labours, Heracles was tasked to steal some golden apples from the tree. He killed Ladon with his poisoned arrows and took the apples. Hera was so saddened by the dragon's death that she placed its image in the sky among the constellations."
"It's quite a sad tale really," Draco added, after he had finished his story. "I hope the story of my life doesn't end quite so dramatically."
The tent was silent for a moment before Draco heard the sound of Hermione's quiet deep breathing coming from his chest. She had fallen fast asleep and looked incredibly serene and comfortable.
Draco smiled and shook his head with a short laugh to himself. Drunk Hermione had been quite the revelation with her needy foot rubbing and whisky stealing antics. He felt a vague wave of disappointment that their evening hadn't ended in something more unbridled than stargazing and storytelling, but he felt so content and warm with his witch nestled in his arms under the twinkly canopy that hung above them, that he didn't pay the feeling much attention.
He soon found himself giving in to his own fatigue and the effects of the firewhiskey nightcap. His his blond lashes gradually fluttered shut as his arms enveloped Hermione more closely to his heart.