There had been no point in packing clothes.
It was Sunday morning and true to his word, Hermione hadn't worn a single item of clothing since being disrobed after closing their suite door on Friday. They'd had more sex than she could count in such a short span of time. If she counted all acts of foreplay beforehand and in between, then Merlin help them. Her body was sore in all the good ways, and with an amused chuckle she thought that Draco would have one hell of a time topping this weekend. But then again, they had the rest of their lives to do that, didn't they?
As Draco slept, Hermione took a moment to admire her ring as she so often did when he wasn't paying attention. She still couldn't get the word "engaged" out of her mouth without disbelief trickling after it. Their love story was one for the ages. Bitter enemies. Fighting on opposite sides of a war. Defending him at his hearing. Avoiding him in the halls when Hogwarts reopened. A magical tryst in the snow. A forbidden affair in a library. All the way down to love and now this. A fast-track route to marriage.
She loved him. She really did. And she was prepared to face any backlash that might come out of this. Hermione could name one person off the back who would think her engagement to Draco to be a horrible idea. Harry, on the other hand, would probably take the logical route and point out that she and Draco had only been together for a short amount of time. While true, time meant nothing when you loved someone. Simple. She couldn't imagine herself with anyone else nor did she want to.
Aside from friends, Hermione also thought about the Daily Prophet. They had been decent over the summer and had calmed themselves when it concerned her and Draco. But a pending marriage? They'd come out of the woodworks for this juicy bit of gossip. And then there was that pesky little thought concerning Theo's words at Draco's party back in August. What exactly had he meant? Draco had been livid when she had told him, but before he could even confront the man it appeared that he had already left.
Obstacles were ahead –some harmless, others not so much. But as Hermione looked over at Draco's sleeping form, all of the possible hardships disappeared. Without him her heart would break. It was as simple as that.
"Watching someone sleep is a bit creepy."
Hermione laughed and lifted her hand to run it lightly through his hair. There were very few times when she was allowed to disturb it from its perfectly groomed condition. This and sex were the only moments.
"You watch me when I sleep."
Draco grinned and stared at her with an inquisitive eye. "You've never caught me doing that."
"Or so you think,"
Draco rolled his eyes and pulled her close to him. Merlin knew how many times this small action led to a romp somewhere around the suite. Skin to skin, such warmth, such comfort… Hermione could fall asleep like this. Or, well, do the other thing considering her fiancé's dancing fingers were running along her thigh, around her hip, and up the side of her body just to do the action over again.
"I wish it was Friday so we could do this weekend all over again." Hermione said.
"And replay how I royally destroyed my proposal to you?" Draco chuckled. "I don't think so."
Hermione smiled and buried her face in his neck. He smelled of fresh mint and fruity shampoo –the latter of which was completely her fault.
"I would've said yes no matter how you did it. Simply asking was enough."
"And now you get to plan a wedding for the ages."
"And gain a massive migraine in the process." Hermione playfully groaned. "Ginny's been going mad trying to plan hers."
"Little Miss Red doesn't have my mother." Draco reminded. "With her input you can have anything that you want. Money isn't exactly an obstacle."
Anything that she wanted. It was perhaps in this moment that Hermione actually realized that her boyfriend-turned-fiancé was a wealthy man. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what that meant. What that "anything" entailed. Sure the definition was self-explanatory, but it was one thing to say it, to comprehend it, but to dabble in it? That was on a whole other level. There was only one thing that she knew for sure.
"I would love for us to get married on Christmas." Hermione said. "It had always been my favorite holiday –even more so since we were reacquainted around then. It would be special, I think."
"Christmas…" Draco repeated as he tapped his chin with his finger. "Alright. With my mother's help I'm sure we can pull something together between now and December."
Hermione furrowed her brow. "This December?"
"Yes. I can only speak for myself here, but I don't want to wait a whole year to marry you. Can you wait?"
Hermione smiled broadly. "No."
Draco returned her smile and kissed her gently on the forehead. "This Christmas it is then."
Draco and Hermione split ways after getting home from Chamonix so they could tell their respective friends and family the good news. However, aside from the fact that it would kill time to break it up this way, the brunette knew good and well that having him with her when she went to see her friends might not turn out in a positive manner. So, she broke the news to a certain over-ecstatic witch first.
"Ginny!" Hermione choked out. "I…can't breathe."
"Oh! Sorry!" Ginny said as she finally let her go. Hermione hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello when she came through the Potter residence's fireplace. The redhead's eyes had immediately gravitated to her hand, she squealed, and then ran over to give her a back-breaking hug.
"Give me your hand." She ordered and took Hermione's hand in hers. "Oh, would you look at that. That ring looks beautiful on you! I told him so!"
"Told him so?" Hermione furrowed her brow. Then her eyes widened in understanding and she smiled broadly. "Why Ginny, did you know that Draco was going to propose to me?"
"Well…I…might have known a little something."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
"And ruin it?! Of course not! If it makes you feel better, I've been badgering Malfoy through letters to propose since he bought the damn thing. I would've hexed him if he didn't do it soon."
Hermione laughed. "Well, technically speaking I kind of forced him to propose. I found the ring in his drawer."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Idiot. Now sit! I've been dying to start planning this wedding with you."
"Funny that you should start mentioning that. We actually already have a date."
"That's great! When? The summer?"
"Actually…Christmas."
"Christmas? You mean this Christmas?"
"I know. It's soon. It's really soon." Hermione told her as she fingered her engagement ring. "Honestly, when I had mentioned it I was thinking about next year. But Draco doesn't want to wait, and you know what, Gin? I don't want to wait either. Is that crazy?"
Ginny smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not crazy at all. In fact I should probably thank you."
"Thank me?"
"That's right. The Daily Prophet has been all over Harry and me for our wedding, but with you and Draco tying the knot, they can finally focus on something else."
Hermione groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Did you have to remind me of that?"
Ginny laughed and patted her on the knee. "You'll be fine. It'll be a wedding for the ages. I can't wait to go."
"Who else is getting married besides us?" Came Harry's voice. Both women turned to find Harry walking into the living room. Ron was next to him and he, too, was waiting for the answer. Ginny looked over at Hermione and gave her a "might as well just do it" expression. Hermione sighed and stood, raising her left hand for them to see.
"I am."
Their jaws dropped simultaneously. It would've been comical were Hermione not anxious to hear their responses.
"Malfoy proposed?" Harry asked although her ring clearly answered his question. "That's… Wow, that's-"
"Has it even been a year for you two yet?" Ron questioned her. Hermione sighed.
"No, it hasn't."
"But it doesn't matter." Ginny inputted from behind Hermione. "Right, Ron?"
"No, Ginny, it's okay." Hermione said. "Ron's entitled to say whatever it is he wants."
"Not in front of us, he isn't. Harry?"
Harry knew that tone of voice anywhere and he gave Ron one last look before heading upstairs with her. Ron continued to stand where he was as did Hermione. What he said when they were definitely out of earshot didn't surprise her in the slightest.
"Marriage is so final, Hermione."
"I know."
"You'll be a Malfoy at the end of it."
"Yes, that is the idea."
"He may be…alright." Ron gritted out, much to her surprise. "But what about his family? They'll be your family too."
"Narcissa's fine with me."
"She's not his only family."
"Everything that you're saying I get, Ron. I do." Hermione pleaded with him. "And if I let it get to me then Draco and I can never be happy. There's always going to someone or something trying to ruin us. I've never given up on anything in my life and I am not going to start now. So just…ignore the potential bad and be happy for me? Please?"
Determined. That's what Hermione Granger was and Ron knew that about her. It wasn't a jealousy thing. Although it still touched a sore spot with him, he just wanted to make sure that his best friend knew what she was doing. As he looked at her, really looked at her, it appeared that she was going to go through with this whether he thought it a good idea or not.
"So…when's the wedding?"
Hermione's face broke out into a huge smile and she ran across the room to hug him. "Oh, Ron, I could kiss you!"
"And have your ex-Deatheater boyfriend kick my arse? I don't think so." Ron chuckled, but he hugged her back just the same.
It was deep into November. The wedding was officially five weeks away and Hermione and Draco were working to the death with any and every one to pull this weeding off in record time. Ginny was helping Hermione with her side of the guest list while Narcissa was helping with Draco's. The venue had been an easy choice seeing as the mother of the groom was still on house arrest until the summer of the following year. In her spare time (which was honestly very little) Hermione picked out color schemes, flower arrangements, how she wanted the reception to be set up, and other things of the like all from a set of books that Narcissa had owled over.
It had been evident at Draco's Auror celebration that the matriarch loved a good celebration. It seemed now that she loved planning weddings even more. Having money worked wonders Hermione realized, and with everything Narcissa sent for the witch's approval a note of encouragement was sent with it saying to choose whatever she wished and to ignore the cost. But Merlin that cost. Flowers alone were an insane amount of money, but to save her from the headache, Draco had magically blacked it all out so that the price didn't influence her choices. It made her highly self-conscious and in the end it turned out that she had quite the expensive taste.
"You're having sculptures made in France and sent here?" Mrs. Granger said as she drank tea with her daughter. Hermione nodded.
"Narcissa insisted. I wasn't going to go for them at first, but then she showed me photographs of them and I couldn't resist."
"Well, when you told me that Draco's family had money I didn't fathom for a moment that it was on such a large scale."
"You haven't seen their Manor yet." Hermione chuckled. "Trust me. It's on that scale."
"Is that what you'll end up getting for yourselves then? A Manor or something of the like?"
Hermione paused. She hadn't thought of that. Draco had settled so neatly into her modest apartment that she hadn't once entertained the idea that he might want to move. Before she could answer her mother a house elf appeared at her side. Having been in constant communication with Narcissa, she could recognize almost every house elf that the woman owned. This particular house elf's name was Yule.
"Afternoon, Miss Granger. Mistress Malfoy has sent Yule to invite you to Malfoy Manor. There is something set up for you."
"Is there really?" Hermione said in surprise. "Um, well yes, alright. Could you inform her that I'll be bringing my mother with me?"
"Yes, Miss Granger. Of course."
Yule left with a pop and Hermione turned to her mother. "I hope you don't mind."
"No, no, it's fine." Mrs. Granger replied as she stood. "I'll have to meet my daughter's future mother-in-law eventually, won't I?"
Yes. Draco's very pureblood mother to meet my very muggle one. Hermione, what on earth have you done?
It was too late now and there was no turning back. Hermione took hold of her mother and ushered her to the Floo. Apparating would've been easier for sure, but sometimes muggles and apparating didn't mix. Higher chances of splinching. The worst that could happen in a Floo was going to the wrong destination and that was a lot better than losing a limb.
Hermione watched her mother intently when they walked out of the main fireplace in Malfoy Manor. The woman was clearly mesmerized already and all she was seeing was the foyer.
"Oh, Hermione," Mrs. Granger gasped. "This home is lovely."
"Why thank you." Narcissa's voice filtered in. Both Grangers looked up to find her descending the stairs with nothing sort of pure sophistication. Once she had reached the landing Hermione felt her anxiousness levels rise tenfold. She kept looking between her mother –absolutely bubbling with personality because that's just who she was –and Narcissa, who seemed to be biting her tongue to hold back any negative comments. Or at least that was what Hermione was thinking anyway.
"Miss Granger, lovely to see you. And you," Narcissa said charmingly. "You must be her mother. Wonderful to meet you. Narcissa Malfoy,"
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Mrs. Granger said as she stretched out her hand to shake. Hermione noted the small bout of hesitance on Narcissa's part, but she stayed proper and took her mother's hand. A brief shake and it was over.
"Yule said that you have something set up for me?" Hermione asked. Narcissa turned to her and smiled brightly.
"Yes. Do follow me."
Narcissa said nothing more except led the way up the stairs she had come down just moments ago. They made a left at the top and down a few doors until they were inside an enormous bedroom. In all honesty it was the size of her entire apartment –possibly bigger. A massive four-poster King-sized bed, bedside tables carved out of what had to be expensive wood, ornate lamps settled on top of them. There was a bureau with a vanity mirror, two dresser drawers, and behind the bed the entire wall was not a wall, but rather a line of ceiling-to-floor windows covered by light cream curtains.
"This will be yours."
Hermione snapped her gaze away from the beautiful furniture and stared at Narcissa. "Mine?"
"Yes, dear. You will need somewhere to sleep the night before your wedding as well as somewhere to dress."
"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, this is… I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing." Narcissa said happily. "Not until you see the rest."
Mrs. Granger raised a hand to her mouth to stifle yet another gasp of approval. "There's more?"
A bit smug, but Draco's mother replied that yes, there was more, and she proceeded to head to a door behind them which led to a bathroom. Along with the standard sink and toilet, there was a large tub that required three steps up on marble stairs to get into as well as a shower in the corner. After that they left the bathroom, walked across it, and went into yet another room that left Hermione speechless. A room to dress in, Narcissa had said, and apparently she had meant it. There was a pedestal to stand on, a huge mirror in length in width, a large armoire, and something else that was unexpected.
"Ah, Miss Granger," a woman Hermione had only ever seen on the covers of Ginny's magazines greeted her. "My name is Antoinette Marcel. Mrs. Malfoy has hired me to make you the wedding dress of the century."
Hermione almost fell. Instead she faced her fiancé's mother with her mouth agape. "You arranged a fitting for me?"
"Of course," Narcissa replied. "When you're pleased, so is my son. It's a simple conclusion to draw. Antoinette," she addressed. "You're welcome to get started."
Hermione was too lost in the generosity of all of this to linger on the fact that while she was busy getting a wedding dress made, her mother and Narcissa would be left alone to talk. Both women sat down in lush armchairs and watched the fitting from the sidelines.
"Razzle!" Narcissa called. A house elf appeared to her right and bowed.
"Yes, Mistress Malfoy?"
"A pot of tea, Razzle. Two cups, cream, sugar, etcetera…"
"Right away, Mistress Malfoy."
Mrs. Granger watched the scene with fascination and smiled sweetly when the creature was gone. "That was one of those house things, yes?"
Narcissa looked over at her and put on her best face. "A house elf, yes."
"Right. Hermione's told me about them. Such a shame that they can't wear clothes."
Narcissa nearly slid out of her chair for such a comment as that. Care? For a house elf of all things? Instead she kept her poise and was more than happy when Razzle came back with a tray of tea and its essential components, setting on top of a small coffee table in front of them.
"Your home is beautifully decorated."
"Thank you,"
"No, thank you for treating my daughter so well." Mrs. Granger said. "She's…told me about…what's happened in the past."
Narcissa tensed. She reached for the pot and tried her best to pour two cups with as steady a hand as possible. "Did she now?"
"Hermione didn't quite have a choice. She had done some memory erase thing for her father and me during that war. Took herself right out of our thoughts and sent us away. We were owed a detailed explanation for that."
"I… I didn't know she had done that."
Mrs. Granger nodded and accepted the tea from her hand. "She had wanted to protect us. Us being muggles and everything, it's not like we could've protected ourselves very well."
"No, you really couldn't have." Narcissa agreed. "You would've been killed quickly."
"But I would've been happy to give my life for her if it really had come down to it. That's what a mother does. Any parent, really. They would do anything for their children. Don't you agree?"
Narcissa sipped her tea. Here she was, sitting next to a muggle, amicably drinking tea, while watching her pureblood son's muggleborn fiancée get fitted for a gown in her own Manor. Yes, a mother would do anything for her children. This was certain.
Author's note: A Christmas wedding! And I just love Narcissa and her doting ways :)
-WP