Better Be Slytherin
LXXI
The Anniversary of the War

five years later

Draco put today's issue of the Daily Prophet down. Suddenly, with a jolt through his stomach he realised what day it was. Exactly six years since the battle of Hogwarts. Six years since he died.

His father had come out of Azkaban, dirt poor, about a year earlier. Their first meeting had felt like something out of a dream, Draco could hardly believe it was real. His father was there in the flesh. All the anger and resentment he felt towards his father had in that moment melted away and Lucius had embraced him like he was a little boy again. Not that Lucius had ever embraced him much in his childhood.

Life resumed to normalcy very quickly after Lucius had come home. He seemed to have learnt humility, perhaps, in prison, or else he was just overwhelmed from being out again. He wasn't as cocky and self assured, yet he had re-inhabitated the manor and it was almost like he'd never left at all.

Between solicitor fees, damages to victim's families, and Narcissa obviously not working and bringing in an income the Malfoys were basically bankrupt. Since then, Lucius had been strongly hinting for Draco to buy the manor off him, but Draco wasn't about to become a landlord for his parents. He had moved out of his childhood home and wasn't planning on returning until his parents were significantly older, if at all. After all, he was about to become a married man, and surely children were the next realistic step. He didn't want to raise his kids under Lucius' roof. Who knew how that would end up - history would probably repeat itself. And if there was anything Draco knew, it was that he didn't want his kids to become like him. At least not the person he'd been for the first 17 years of his life. He was now 24 years old, a professional Quidditch player, and a kinder person.

Indeed, life had been kind to them lately. Narcissa had been happier since Lucius had been back, and she had become fast friends with Mrs Parkinson, who along with her husband were back in the UK and had taken back the manor from Pansy. Theodore was also out of Azkaban since a long time, and of course Millicent and the older Slytherin boys were free too. Zabini had been fucking around all around the world since he and Davies broke up at Draco's engagement party five years ago, and he didn't think they'd seen each other since. He now worked in international finance very closely with the goblins of Gringotts. As far as he knew, Davies had worked her way up at the Ministry and was constantly rubbing the old codgers the wrong way along with Hermione Granger when they together tried to pass new rules to make discrimination against witches, Muggleborns and werewolves unlawful. Greengrass was now engaged to the bloke she met in university, Ben Hawthorne. Queenie was managing that pub she worked for, she bought it and is living above it.

Life had moved on all around them. Lucius was the only one stuck in the past, in the old society.

"Now, girls!" said Pansy, "Dress robes it is, then. Obviously, you'll all have to match."

"Match you or the decorations?" asked Millicent Bulstrode, brows furrowed.

"Both," snarled Pansy.

"What are you wearing then?"

"WHITE! Obviously," Pansy exclaimed over the other girls' fits of laughter.

"And the theme is silver and green, obviously," Daphne chimed in. "For Slytherin. So we'll have to find something that fits..."

"Honestly, Pans," said Queenie, "I would love to wear pink,"

Pansy pondered this for a moment. "I have always loved pink," she agreed.

"But Malfoy hates it," Daphne reminded her quickly.

"No he doesn't!" said Pansy indignantly. "He likes pink on me, at least."

"He likes it because it's on you," Daphne tittered. "But can you imagine Narcissa Malfoy letting her son's wedding be pink?"

"Pink's childish," decided Pansy haughtily, "This is an adult occasion, to celebrate our love and our future..."

"But I look really good in pink," whinged Queenie.

"Well, wear pink in your own wedding then!" snapped Pansy.

"White then?" said Daphne carefully, "I mean, obviously you'll stand out anyway, since you're the bride... but the bridesmaids wearing white is old wizarding traiditon..."

Pansy pondered this for a moment. "I was thinking white or magenta."

"That IS pink!"

"Fine, white it is then. Old wizarding traditions are important."

The saleswitch Madam Malkin looked positively relived they had come to some sort of a decision, and began collecting different sets of dress robes for them.

"Where are you going for your honeymoon, then?" squealed Daphne.

"Oh, Paris, perhaps," said Pansy, basking in the admiration and jealousy, "Or somewhere by the Mediterranean. A greek island, perhaps... Or the South of France,"

The girls tittered excitedly

"Draco wants the South of france, naturally... But I prefer Greece."

"Well, we all know which one it's going to be, then, don't we," sniggered Queenie.

"And the wedding night! Just imagine," said Daphne, "How romantic..."

"Yes, but we must focus on the ceremony firstly, Daph," demanded Pansy. "The ceremony and then the dinner... Everyone will be there..."

"I can imagine the press will have a right field day!" laughed Queenie, "Rita Skeeter will shit bricks rather than miss a happening like this!"

"Did you just call my wedding a happening?"

"Sorry, Pans."

"Besides, I'll cover the wedding myself," she said, smirking slightly. "In my column."

Pansy got up from her chair and every single pair of eyes followed her, and she spun around childishly in her wedding dress-robes.

"My wedding will be the most romantic and beautiful event the wizarding world has ever seen!"

The others laughed cheerfully, some clapping their hands together in excitement. Tracey thought privately, that the wedding would probably be a lot of old aristocratic Purebloods and boring speeches, but said nothing.

"What do you think girls?" she then asked haughtily, "are these the ones?"

They drowned each other out as they shouted, "Yes!"

Greengrass grabbed one of the bottles of champagne and opened it with a bang, some of the contents ran down the shaft, and she poured into the outstretched flutes of their friends.

"Cheers!" she said, "To Pansy and her fiancé!"

"to Pansy Malfoy," Queenie said, holding up her own glass.

Pansy smiled smugly and clinked her glass with the other girls.

"Good evening, Mrs Malfoy," said Draco when she stepped out of the Floo at home, onto the dark hardwood floors, in their flat above Diagon Alley. He was on the settee reading the Sunday Prophet while an iron was hovering above the ironing board, working on his dress shirts.

Pansy smirked. "You can't call me that yet. As of now I'm still Miss Parkinson."

Draco snorted. "How did it go, then?"

"You're not allowed to know."

"What's the point of being the groom if you're not allowed to know anything before the other five-hundred guests?"

Draco knew she'd been wedding dress-robes fitting at Madam Malkins. Rhe wedding was set for June at Malfoy Manor, just after his twenty fifth birthday. Pansy and Narcissa argued over flowers - Pansy naturally wanted pink ones, Narcissa found that classless and wanted white lilies, which had ended with Pansy crying that it was her wedding not Narcissa's. Lucius and Pansy's father had just laughed.

Pansy wanted swans and unicorns and diamonds and pearls and fireworks at the wedding reception. Narcissa had almost fainted when she had told them, eyes glinting, and Lucius had stifled a laugh. Draco himself had rolled his eyes and hoped Narcissa and Mrs Parkinson could persuade her out of her mad ideas - he didn't think he had that privilege. She would just say that he didn't understand, and sulk until he gave in, if he tried bringing it up. She was hopeless sometimes.

Draco had had slick black dress robes fitted for the occassion, very handsome if he may say so himself. He could hardly believe it was only a month away, the way Pansy and his mother had gone on about it for years now. They had naturally wanted to wait until Lucius was out of Azkaban, and then wedding planning had taken ages, and truth be told they hadn't felt ready until now.

"You'll probably change your mind another couple of times before it gets down to it, anyway," he said and put down the newspaper.

"How dare you accuse me of being indecisive," she laughed as she shrugged her travelling cloak off and handed it to the awaiting House-Elf. He patted the sofa next to him.

"Can't wait for you to be Mrs Malfoy," he grinned as she sat down and gave him a quick kiss.

She rolled her eyes, smile on her lips, "That sounds like Narcissa."

Draco chuckled, "Fine, can't wait for you to be my wife then."

The words sent tingles through Pansy's stomach, and she reached up to place a load of quick kisses on his lips.

"Mother wants to do a lunch with the two of us and your mother," said Pansy, "to talk final wedding stuff."

Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn't think of anything more boring.

"How was work?" she asked then.

"Disaster," he drawled, "Jamie forgot which team we were playing so we'd practiced all the wrong strategies... The management is appalling. I saved the day by catching the Snitch relatively early, anyway."

"Well done, Drake," she simpered, "You're brilliant."

There was another exchange of kisses and then he said: "Are we going to this Hogwarts reunion cocktail party?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Right. That. I don't know, Draco, I see everyone I want to see on a regular basis... But on the other hand I never miss an opportunity to show off my new dress robes..."

Draco grinned.

"We could go just to see whatever happened to the likes of Abbott and Longbottom..." she sniggered. "Have a laugh about it."

"That settles it then; I'll owl Gregory to let him know what time we're going. He can come by for a drink before and we'll go together."

Every year since the war they had celebrated on the second of May. Most people had quiet traditions at home, as it was not only a celebration but also a mourning. They had endured several of these events at the Ministry where there was always a lot of silent moments to honour the dead. Important - yes. Boring - also yes.

But as a general rule, treacle tart was always eaten on the anniversary. Because it was Potter's favourite pudding and it had become practice.

They hadn't been back to Hogwarts since they took their exams and got way too drunk in the common room after - so being back now felt surreal. Draco felt like a seventeen year old boy again.

Rows and rows of chairs were all facing the front of the room where the teachers table normally stood. There were no house colours anywhere, no banners in red, green yellow or blue. White flowers grew downwards from the magical ceiling making the whole huge room look more alive than ever. Suddenly the current frog choir burst into the old school song. Draco, Pansy and Gregory couldn't help but laugh.

House-Elves carried around trays of hors d'oeuvres. Everyone was there - everyone from his year that hadn't died in the battle.

In situations like this Draco used to feel like a social pariah, just after the war, but after his book, and attending countless Ministry events, and networking with the politicians and fellow Quidditch players, and meeting fans, he felt as though his place in society had solidified stronger than ever.

Harry Potter gave a short speech, looking like he'd been talked into doing so, the crowd clapped and cheered. Potter walked down from the stage and took his seat again while the Minster of Magic walked back onto the stage. They shook hands again as they passed each other.

Draco could see Zabini and Tracey Davis sneaking glances at each other when they thought the other couldn't see - he supposed they hadn't seen in each other in years. Draco and Pansy had made sure to never invite them to dinner at the same time. They had had them over for dinner separately lots of times however.

"Thank you Harry, thank you. Your speech was wonderful and I think I stand for everyone when I say thank you for everything that you did, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Without you three, I don't think that most of us would be standing here today."

The crowd clapped and murmur words of agreement. When the Minister ended his speech, the crowd enthusiastically moved closer and many shook hands with Potter, Granger and Weasley, Draco noted from the other side of the hall.

Countless speeches later and then The Weird Sisters would take the stage and the chairs disappeared to make a dance floorwhere guests mingled around.

Pansy rolled her eyes at Draco, but he didn't return her derisive look. "Oh, look, here comes the man-we-should-all-kneel-before."

"Shut it, Pans," he hissed at her, "He did me a big favour."

"Malfoy," said Potter shortly, and they shook hands.

"Doing well?" asked Draco, it looked like it strained him to be so nice/curtious.

"Fine, thanks, and you?"

"Yes, very well, thank you."

"Everytthing in order at the ministry?"

"Yeah," nodded Potter, a small smile on his face, "We're finally getting around to arresting the last few Death Eaters who went on the run after the battle."

"Very good," said Draco curtly.

"Malfoy," muttered Ron Weasley as he passed with the Mudblood Granger. "Parkinson."

Draco nodded at them. Pansy did not, the last time she'd spoken to them was just after the battle of Hogwarts, when she'd been emotionally unstable to say the least. She felt slightly embarrassed of showing herself so vulnerable in front of the trio.

"Take care," Potter said curtly and Draco smiled equally politely. The smile had vanished when he turned around to face Pansy, and Potter and the rest had moved on.

"Being polite wouldn't kill you," he hissed at her. She snorted.

"I will not be two-faced."

"Are you saying that I am?"

She didn't answer, but grabbed a new glass of champagne from a passing House-Elf's tray.

"Let's find the Greengrasses, " she said then.

"You go on," he said shortly, "I think I've just seen Nott and Zabini."

He stalked away from her and she rolled her eyes.

Draco was being silly, she thought. He'd never liked Potter and his Blood-Traitor mates, so why was he pretending to now?

"Ah, just the man I wished to see." Malfoy had appeared from behind a pillar, the usual smirk plastered on his face.

"Draco," said Blaise, they shook hands. "Pleasure to see you. Where's the missus?"

Theodore Nott gave a small unwilling jerk next to them. Bloody Theodore and his school crush, thought Blaise.

"Don't know," grunted Draco, seemingly irritated, "With Greengrass I think. How are you then, Theodore?"

They shared a stiff handshake.

"Now, Blaise," said Draco, grabbing him by the arm and leading him away. "Is business going well? I was meaning to speak to you, actually, about a rather nice piece of potential goblin investment. I'm sure you'll pass it on to your, erm, collegues... As a matter of fact, the Cannons are looking for new investors..."

Theodore felt, yet again, defeated by Draco Malfoy, this time for the attention of their common friend.

"Now, Draco, here I thought you wanted a friendly catch-up," sniggered Blaise,"But it's all business straight away with you, isn't it.."

"I'm afraid so," smirked Draco, "but once we're finished we'll do a few shots of Fire Whiskey for old times sake."

"You coming, Theodore?" called Blaise. Theodore sighed, but followed them. Malfoy looked quite displeased.

"Ah, speak of the devil..." said Malfoy and grabbed a couple glasses of Fire Whiskey off a passing house-elf. He stuck a glass of the dark liquid in Theodore's hand with a dark look, Blaise had already sipped his own, not noticing, when Malfoy said: "To old school friends."

Blaise sniggered. "To Theodore's good health," he said, raising his glass.

"To Astoria Greengrass' very revealing robes," said Theodore with a small smile.

"To Draco's fiancé," sniggered Blaise.

"That's enough," said Malfoy, rolling his eyes. "Toast Ron Weasley next, will you?"

Theodore and Blaise shared an amused look.

"Where's Goyle?" asked Theodore then, after their joke was over, his tone now more serious.

"No clue," said Malfoy, a hint of frustration shone over his usually obscure face, "Probably chasing after the House-Elves for more drink."

"It's still that bad, then, is it?"

"It's gotten out of hand," said Draco dystert. "It's been five years and he's still acting as though it were yesterday..."

"The war affected us all differently," said Blaise wisely. Both him and Theodore knew Malfoy was still dealing with some guilt over Vincent's death, perhaps not as excessive as it had been a few years ago. Goyle was quite expressively emotionally over their friend's death, and had taken to drinking, but he had stopped crying long ago. Malfoy kept it all in, Theodore doubted he even spoke to Pansy about it, but what did he know. They did however know that Malfoy never ever wanted to speak about Vincent, his reaction the few times they had in the past five years had taught them enough. Theodore supposed he should be angry with Malfoy after everything that happened years ago, but his short stint in Azkaban had made him somehow less angry and resentful of the world. It had shown him that perhaps he had been wrong all along. His father died still clinging on the belief that the world was wrong and he was the only one who had it all figured out. It was sad, and terrifying. Theodore didn't want to end up like him, it was his biggest nightmare. So somehow his friendship with both Blaise and Malfoy had bounced back after he had repented in Azkaban, and he no longer held the same resentment towards them. He had been such an angry, unhappy teenager, and growing up into a young adult he had realised the world wasn't as bad as he'd previously thought. Becoming an adult, it was almost like things mattered less. Things you'd spent your teenage years agonising over almost seemed comical now.

"How about we pop in for a drink at the Minister's Arms, suggested Blaise, I don't particularly fancy catching up with Hufflepuffs about school. Do you?"

"Sure," said Malfoy, "That's right below the flat. I'm sure Pansy will want to say hello to Wilkes, anyway. I'll go and get her. And," he added with a sneer at Blaise, "She'll probably bring your ex too."

"Why weren't you at the Hogwarts reunion?" demanded Pansy of Queenie Wilkes the moment they entered the pub in Diagon Alley.

"Had to work," said Queenie irritably. She was polishing large mead-glasses when they stepped inside. "Who was there?" and then she spotted Malfoy, Zabini, Tracey and Theodore coming in after Pansy.

"Oh, hello," she said cheerfully, moving around the bar to come and hug them.

"Besides this lot," said Pansy, having a seat at the bar, "a bunch of old Hufflepuffs and the likes. Oh and the chosen one, of course," she said sarcastically rolling her eyes. "He never misses an opportunity for attention, does he."

"Still hasn't gotten over his saviour complex then?" said Queenie, pouring Malfoy a glass of Fire Whiskey. "The usual, Pans, Trace?"

"Sure," said Pansy while Tracey nodded and Queenie poured them each a glass of elf-made red wine.

"And yous?" she asked Theodore and Blaise.

"Mead," said Theodore.

"Just a Butterbeer, thanks," said Zabini.

"Daphne is planning my hen do," said Pansy smugly. "It'll be the first week in june."

Theodore's stomach lurched. He didn't feel like swallowing his mead.

"Can't wait," laughed Queenie. "Malfoy should probably go out of town that weekend."

Malfoy scowled at her.

Malfoy and Pansy had left to get their beauty sleep or whatever they did, Blaise wasn't sure, but they never stayed out as late as him. It was him, Theodore, Queenie and Tracey left. Just like the old school days. Tracey had avoided his eye contact all evening, but Theodore and Queenie was chatting on like old friends.

Blaise turned to Tracey quietly, and sipped his Fire Whiskey. "How have you been Davis?"

She had definitely heard him, but didn't acknowledge him straight away. He could see her swallowing. Nervously? There was definitely a hint of her composing herself. She had probbly planned out their first meeting in her head multiple times.

"Good, thank you," she said slowly, meeting his eye contact surprisingly confidently. He looked back for a moment. He got the feeling the old Davis was back - the one she was before he'd broken down her self respect. It intimidated him slightly. He noticed she didn't ask how he'd been.

He cleared his throat. "Work all good?"

"Yes," she said curtly.

"You been travelling much?"

"A bit," she shrugged. "What about you?"

"Yeah, lots for work. With the goblins."

She nodded. Something in him made him feel slightly... insecure? He wasn't sure, because he thought he'd never felt that way before in his whole, self assured life. Something about her disinterest made him question how he'd treated her. But he'd been so young. Who wanted to settle down in their early twenties? Definitely not him.

"You know," he said tentatively. "It's a shame how everything ended up."

"With us?" she said.

"Yeah. Like, I was so immature."

She shrugged again. He suddenly noticed her hair was longer than ever, her cheeks rosy, her eyes didn't have that perpetually worried look, and he suddenly got the cold realisation that nothing he said would hurt her now. It hit him like a punch in the stomach. He wanted her to say "that's ok," and reassure him. But she had probably learnt that it wasn't ok and that she didn't want a man like him. Broken.

"I didn't treat you right," he blurted out, despite himself.

"No, you didn't," she said. It wasn't dramatic, or hurt, it was matter of factly. Like there wasn't any emotion behind it anymore, just a logic resolution.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you just because..." he fumbled for the first. "I guess, I didn't know what I was doing. Or what I had."

"Thank you," she said. "I got over it."

He knew that she was telling the truth. How the tables had turned on cold, confident Blaise Zabini. He knew he couldn't get a reaction out of her anymore. And maybe never again. She didn't care anymore. He held no power whatsoever, and it slightly frightened him.

He may have squandered and wasted the best potential partner he could've ever had. But, he wasn't destined for happiness regardless.

Before the wedding they had a stag do. In early June, Draco, Gregory, Nott, Zabini, a couple of the younger Slytherin boys, as well as Timothy Morcott and Adrian Pucey (who was the only one Draco hadn't sent to prison out of the older Slytherin boys) as well as all of Draco's current teammates and Daphne's partner Ben Hawthorpe whom he'd grown close friends with, all got drunk at the Leaky Cauldron in London and Greg and Blaise had to drag Draco home and into bed.

Pansy's hen party is a bit more civilised, twenty girls had dinner at a fancy restaurant in Diagon Alley and then they went to a newly opened nightclub called L'Discoteque.

When they got back to the room they were staying in at the Leaky Cauldron, Pansy sang, "I'm getting married in the moooorning," and they all collapsed in drunken giggles.

The next morning after putting on their matching bridesmaids dress robes and helping make sure Pansy's hair and makeup were perfect, they apparated to Wiltshire, slightly hungover. The wedding ceremony was set to be in the rose garden of an old but majestic manor house with a view over Stonehenge, larger than both the Parkinsons' and the Malfoys'. They had debated having it at Malfoy manor but something about having it so close to the drawing room hadn't felt quite right with all Draco's bad memories.

Their arrival was set to be in a Thestral drawn carriage (sadly, Pansy's dream of unicorns hadn't been plausible) and so they all got in, and they slowly drove up the long driveway. Pansy nervously handled her boquet of gardenias.

The Pureblood elite were there, Draco knew. Pansys grandmother's hat was as big as an umbrella. But also lots of family, friends, cousins, Ministry people, even Daily Prophet editors. Most of Draco's relatives were dead, but Andromeda and Teddy were there. He had seen them out the window of the second floor ensuite as he was getting ready. Dhad monogrammed cufflinks on his dressrobes. His hands shook slightly as he fastened them, and looked himself in the mirror. Pinstriped dress robes, his blonde hair slicked back. He was handsome today. And nervous.

"Ready?" said Goyle by the door. Draco turned slowly to him and then gave a nod. He joined him and Zabini, and they walked downstairs and outside together.

Goyle ushered Pansy's very Pureblood prejudiced grandparents to their seats and then it began. Draco took his place at the front. Daphne and Blaise walked down the aisle together arm in arm and Blaise seated her on the first row, and then moved to sit further down the first row next to Theodore. He was the best man and she was the maid of honour which is why they walked together. Everyone looked shocked to see them together. Theodore didn't look happy either, it being Pansy's wedding day to somebody else. Draco's hands were sweaty as he looked down to see if Pansy was on her way yet. He was uncomfortable with this many people looking at him.

His face lit up in an uncontrollable smile when Pansy and her father appeared. She was wearing a long white wedding dress robe, as well as Narcissa's great grandmother's golden necklace, and a tiara with matching emeralds from the Parkinson family. There was a P for Parkinson and an S for Slytherin was engraved on it. Pansy was smirking at him, holding his eye the whole way.

Graham walked her down between the rows of chairs and reluctantly gave her away to Draco.

"Hi," she breathed, smiling. "Hello," he smiled back, and suddenly forgot about all the people looking at them.

The same man from Dumbledore's funeral led the ceremony. He was talking for ages but Draco wasn't listening. He was just looking at Pansy and she was looking back at him. They were struggling to not giggle.

Teddy was now walking down the aisle, people were smiling and making awing sounds. When he reached him, Draco bent down and Teddy held up the dark green velvet cushions were the rings lay. Draco took them from him and they embraced. Then Teddy went to sit next to Andromeda on the second row. Their wedding bands were simple, gold.

His friends and family were on the first couple rows and he finally felt a hint of pride. Draco's voice sounded softer than they'd ever heard it as he spoke his vows.

"I bind myself to you by magic and love," he said.

"I bind myself to you by magic and love," she said. Pansy looked slightly flustered, he knew she had never admitted to anyone but him that she did love him. Neither had he, to be fair.

The Ministry official sent out stars over them when they had finished.

When he placed the ring onto Pansy's finger he finally let out a tensed breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

Rather than throwing rice, the guests all Lumos'd their wands and waved them around. Pansy turned around to throw the boquet. Millicent Bulstrode caught it.

Mrs Parkinson and Narcissa insisted on taking photos of the bride and groom, and then of Pansy and her father, and Draco and his mother. Draco with both parents - Pansy with both parents -Pansy with her numerous bridesmaids - Draco and Goyle - Draco and Blaise - Pansy and Daphne. Draco endured it purely because he saw how happy Pansy was. He didn't have to fake his smile in the photos.

Everybody lined up for Portkeys, or else had been told to Apparate to Malfoy Manor where the reception was held. There were Slytherin crest on every banner as decoration. Champagne levitating around, and House-Elves carrying silver trays full of appetizers. The guests were mingling, laughing, chatting, eating and drinking, until the newly married couple reappeared.

A huge marquee had been set up in the garden, under which lots of white clothed round tables stood. Dinner was duck, which appeared on your plate by magic. Many guests clapped when it happened. As it got darker and louder, the marquee filled with laughter and conversation, the speeches started. First Draco's best man Blaise, then Gregory, followed by Narcissa and Lucius. Pansy's both parents and grandparents also spoke, as well as the Greengrass sisters. Pansy's mother entertained them for the longest time out of all the speakers, and made the guests laugh a lot. Pansy rolled her eyes at her mum's humorous digs at her but Draco only smiled. Lucius' speech was mostly about how they were suited because of social standings.

The bridesmaids table of Daphne, Tracey, Queenie, Millicent, Astoria, Theodora, Clara, Arabella as well as Pansy's multiple female cousins seemed to have the most fun, and they were also the first to take to the dance floor.

There was an enormous pink wedding cake and a pile of wedding presents up to the ceiling in one corner of the marquee. Etiquette suggested Blaise should dance with Daphne they all knew but somehow that tradition didn't happen. Several parties were probably thankful of that. Pansy should dance with both fathers and Draco with both mothers.

"I remember when Lucius asked for my hand in marriage," Narcissa was saying a few hours later. Draco had never seen her drunk before. She was always so kept together. "My mother was so pleased - me being married into the 'ancient and wealthy house of Malfoy'," she seemed to be mocking her mother, whom Draco had never met, in a voice if possible even more haughty than her own.

It sounded like this had happened a hundred years ago.

Perpetua Parkinson started chiming in and soon the women were locked in a loud, merry and drunk conversation.

Draco and Pansy cut the cake in front of flashing cameras, as if that was meant to signify the start of their life together or something. Draco found it all slightly ridiculous, they had been together for almost ten years at this point after all.

When Magic Works by The Weird Sisters came on, Draco and Pansy glanced at each other and smiled lovingly. They both got up.

Pansy scratched the hair at the back of his neck lovingly, as they slow danced, close to each other. "Remember how we danced to this at the Yule Ball? Wow, it must be what, nine years ago now."

Draco smiled. "Yes you're right. Who knew we'd end up here."

"That's where it all began," Pansy sighed blissfully. She pulled away and their eyes met. He leaned in for a kiss. Then her head goes on his shoulder.

I'm glad I asked you to the ball," he mumbled. Pansy smiled happily.

The stars were shining more brightly than before the war, or so it felt.

A little while later, Draco och Gregory were looking out over the fields surrounding the manor, and the stars, with a Firewhiskey each.

"I wish he could've been here," said Goyle. "I think he'd like it."

"So do I, Greg." said Draco. He glanced back at the marquee. It was dark now so the floating candles had come out. Pansy emerged, her white dress robes lit her up in the darkness.

He had barely had time to talk to Pansy all night, but they had held hands under the table the whole time.

People were still dancing and it was past midnight. Pansy lay her head on his shoulder.

"I'm glad this day is over," said Pansy and stifled a yawn.

Draco was glad a lot of things were over. Finally, he could have peace.

"Let's go join the others," said Gregory. "Let's party."

Pansy looked as surprised as he felt, at seeing Goyle so cheerful. Perhaps things were actually getting better.