Disclaimer: All... everythings, rights, ideas, characters... expressed in
this fic belong to JKRowling. Yep, they do. Surprising, isn't it? :oD
Previously on PS:
"I have to say though," Hermione continued, "My mother has the worst taste in everything... there was this one dress..." she shuddered. "Let me show you..." Hermione fished in her pocket for her wand and charmed one of the bed drapes to take the form of her mother's hideous dress, then slip itself onto her. Although it was black velvet, the effect was enough. Draco burst out laughing.
"You're kidding... she did NOT like that," he said, but Hermione nodded and turned around shaking her bum at him.
"Yep. Pretty, hm?"
"Please tell me you didn't agree on it?"
"I suppose you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" she stated, smirking. "After all, I did promise." Draco looked frankly a little scared. Hermione laughed. "Whaddaya think, Hazy?" she asked, stepping toward the little blonde and tickling her tummy. She squealed in delight, and Hermione smiled. "Guess she likes it too."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER FOUR: Pigs and Mice
Hermione grumbled as she made her way from the kitchen to the door, where someone was quite animatedly ringing the doorbell. Her mother and father were groggily eating pancakes, which she had painstakingly cooked herself, and simply mumbled requests as they heard the ring. When she opened the door, a familiar blonde became visible, leaning against the wall, which extended a foot or so past the door. An undeniable smile graced her lips.
"Hey. Bit early, isn't it?" Draco smirked and lifted a shoulder.
"I knew you'd be up. Nice robe, by the way." Hermione looked down at herself and, if he were anyone else, would have blushed. She was in fact wearing silk shorts and a cotton tank top under her robe, which only stretched to mid-thigh.
"Thanks. Coming in?" Draco chuckled.
"If you insist. Although, I'm not staying long; but have no fear, you're coming with me," he said as he stepped past her and into the living room. Hermione lifted and eyebrow at him as she closed the door.
"Why? And more importantly, where?" Draco tried to remain innocent.
"Oh, nowhere you haven't been before. The invitations have arrived, although undeniably late, and Mother has requested your presence as she addresses them," he said, then added, "And, due to the fact that my brother is up and licking envelopes, I would request you don some... warmer attire?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Fine, fine... give me five minutes," she agreed, dashing up the stairs without another word. Draco chuckled to himself as he slipped off his black leather trench coat.
"I'll make that fifteen," he mumbled before seating himself on the sofa. As expected, it took Hermione considerably longer than five minutes... in fact, it was around twenty when Draco started to get impatient. Being a gentleman, however, he kept his watch over the living room, allowing her as much time as she needed. He only hoped it'd be worth it.
Of course, it was.
Hermione could be heard tumbling down the stairs at a record twenty-six and a half minutes. She was, in Draco's opinion, worth the wait... but he would never tell her so. He loved everything from the little fur-lined Eskimo snow boots to the tight buns which resided on each side of her head, dangling with red and pink ribbons that matched her top. She held up a finger to him and Draco nodded impassively as he watched her bid adieu to her parents, then scurry back into the room.
"Alright, I'm ready." Draco nodded and led her back toward the door, opening it while she donned black gloves.
"About time. You do realize we are merely going to meet my mother, and she is only at my house, don't you? Was I hazy on that before?" Hermione, although laughing, poked him in the ribs.
"So what if I want to look good. Is that a crime? And besides, you never know who'll show up." Draco bit back his original 'You always look good', and replaced the smug smirk of a witty retort with a frown.
"You're still waiting on Harry and Ron, aren't you?" Hermione frowned as well, crossing her arms and looking away. Although they'd only walked a block, and it'd taken them about five minutes, a rosy tint was already forming in her cheeks.
"And if I am?" she spoke defiantly, as if trying to prove her loyalty. Draco sighed.
"Hermione..." It had been nearly three months since she'd even heard from either of her school chums. She'd wanted to wait until a few weeks before the wedding, but Draco thought it better if she alerted them sooner. After a game of heads-or-tails, which dubbed Draco victor, Hermione had promised to tell them everything in what would be a very lengthy letter, as soon as they wrote her their first of the summer. Unfortunately, that letter arrived via Hedwig no less than a week after she'd returned to her home. As promised, Hermione wrote a seven-page letter describing her identity, predicament, relationship with Draco, and the numerous reasons why they'd been left out. She had yet to receive a reply.
"Draco, I don't care what you say. I know Harry and Ron... they'll understand... they have to understand. They wouldn't just abandon me." Draco, lifting his hands as request for seize-fire, pretended to literally back off.
"Alright, alright... I'm sorry. So... what are you going to do?"
"Send them invitations," Hermione replied as if it were the most rudimentary thing possible, but Draco seemed surprised.
"Just... send them invitations? Did you tell them about the betrothal?" Hermione remained silent. "I believe that would be a no..."
"Well, I thought I'd soften the blow a bit and save that until my next letter... but I can't break the back and forth... it's like tradition. Etiquette. Unchangeable."
"And a wedding invitation between their best friend and worst enemy won't come as a total shock?" Hermione shifted her arms a bit, as if uncomfortable.
"Don't you think I've thought of that? I can't think of another way... if I don't hear from them... I'll leave them to their peace. If they don't want me, I'll keep away... simple as that." Draco sighed.
"Aw, come on... Hermione," he said, almost pleadingly. He didn't want her to feel unwanted... Harry and Ron weren't everyone. "Don't go getting all depressed on me. You've got to help Mum. Come on now, big smile. Like this," he prodded and gave a big and cheesy grin, chock full of pearly teeth. Of course, he looked absolutely ridiculous, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him. "There ya go. See?" he asked, swooping behind her and to her other side, gripping her shoulders and shaking playfully as if she were hot cocoa. Hermione couldn't help but smile after that. Draco could always do that... always make her smile. "Oh," he said after a moment, "And I was going to tell you... you'd have looked good even if you kept your word and came down in five minutes."
"Oh really?" she asked, smirking at his near satisfactory attempt at a compliment, although cheesy. "Do you mean that, or are you hinting at something?"
"Oh, I mean it..." he assured. "I don't know why you bother, anyway. What took so long? You girls... you've got about as much ability to manage a time budget as you do a cash one."
"And you're any better? What was that last thing you bought... oh, that's right. A Harley?"
"Hey!" Draco said, laughing. "That's not fair. I took that back." Hermione laughed.
"Only because Cissa fainted and we had to pretend it never happened."
"Alright, given... but I still don't see why you women take so much time to get ready. Honestly, it's all of you. Mum... Maddy... lord, it even takes Hazy half an hour to get dressed... and that's with help! And don't even tell me it's your hair, because, being a very vain and proud of it male, I happen to know that with skill that could also be accomplished in under five minutes." Hermione gave a snort.
"Yeah, when all you have to do is run your hand over it. I'd like to see you make pigs in a blanket on your head in five minutes. I've been doing my hair my entire life... I know these things."
"Is that what that's called?" he asked, gesturing to her head, and Hermione gave a shrug.
"That's what I've always called it."
"Well..." Draco said, pretending as if he were inspecting this new creation. "I think it makes you look like a mouse." Hermione's jaw dropped in outrage.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, placing hands on her hips, and Draco blinked his eyes innocently. In retaliation, Hermione pushed him. Being as Draco was of much greater mass than she, he barely moved... but when he pushed her back, she toppled right into the shrubbery behind her. After a bit of a fight and many small wails of struggle, Hermione freed herself from the bush's confines, only to see Draco had dashed down the street. "Draco Demetrius Malfoy, you get your scrawny Slytherin arse back here right now!" she called down the street, and Draco turned around, giving her a tiny wave before picking up speed and heading toward home. With a scowl, Hermione stormed after him, huffing the entire way.
~*~*~*~
When Hermione made it into Malfoy Manor, Draco was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and pulled off her gloves before heading toward the drawing room, which seemed the most likely place to address a thousand some-odd envelopes. The door was closed, but there was definite movement behind, so Hermione knocked.
"Cissa? It's Hermione."
"Oh! Come in dear! I'm glad you're finally here!" called the unmistakable voice of Narcissa Malfoy, and Hermione took her advice, stepping through the doorway. Her mother-in-law was sitting at a desk, a stack of addressed envelopes to one side, and a larger stack of blanks to the other. Hermione watched as she placed three or four different cards in one envelope and scribbled out an address, then handed it to Lucifer, who, as Draco had said, was licking envelopes. As Hermione entered, Lucifer stopped mid-lick and sniggered. Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but at that moment, Narcissa looked up. "Hermione, love, what happened?" she asked, making Hermione feel extremely self conscious. She brought a hand to her face, as if expecting to feel blood.
"What do you mean?" The older women stood from her seat and bustled over, then proceeded to pick something from Hermione's hair.
"Leaves," she explained, holding them out to her. Hermione scowled at the little green plants.
"Draco," she said, then sighed. "Prick. Anyway... what do I do?" Narcissa, clueless expression forgone, smiled.
"Well," she said, "If you can put the packets together while I address them, it will go much faster. I already have the list your mother wrote up, and I've added mine. When we're done with that, you can have whatever's left. Draco has already informed me that he has no one he wishes to invite. Typical, if you ask me." Hermione, as requested, sat down and began assembling the packets, after much instruction from her matron.
"Why is there so much?"
"Well, there's the invite... then the reply card and envelope, a menu, a schedule, directions, and the address to send gifts to. Quite a lot, isn't it?" Hermione nodded, and started in.
~*~*~*~
It was nearly noon before the trio had come close to even remotely finishing the list of people. In the end, Narcissa had counted out the number she needed (as Hermione had become quite good at her job and filled the remainder much quicker than Narcissa could emboss them with fancy calligraphy) and given the rest to her daughter. Hermione had left promptly, giving the excuse of cooking lunch before Madeline harmed herself, although she had no intention to do so. Instead, Hermione climbed the latter to the little tree house in the Malfoy yard, planning on having a good heart to heart with herself.
What she didn't plan on, however, was that Draco would be stretched out across the floor, levitating a magazine a foot from his face. She made a slight sound of disgust and toyed with the idea of leaving before he noticed her... but Draco was too quick for that.
"Hey," he said, tossing his book to the side and gracefully pulling himself into a sitting position. Deciding she would go with her original plan, Hermione said nothing back and climbed into the room, settling herself in the corner. She pulled the pile of envelopes from her bag, and began the task of addressing them. Of course, she would forgo calligraphy, making the ordeal take considerably less time. Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Hello?" Again, Hermione remained silent. "Herm-I-o-ne.... hello? Anyone home?"
"I'm not speaking to you," she finally admitted, and Draco laughed.
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Right... is this about the bush thing?" Hermione looked up from her first card, which was still addressee-less, and scowled. "I'll take that as a yes. Oh, come on... you pushed me first."
"You called me a mouse," she retorted, and Draco shrugged as if to say 'guilty'.
"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"
"Well, you're just so insufferable! Sometimes I just want to strangle you," Hermione threatened, teeth clenched, but Draco simply shook his head.
"You don't mean that," he told her. "You could never stay mad at little ol' me." Hermione glared.
"Watch me." With that, she turned back to her envelope and began addressing it to Harry. It was decided then that if they didn't come, she didn't want anyone there. Although the stack contained at least a dozen invitations... only two would be used. Well, perhaps three. Pansy Parkinson had been on the inside scoop throughout their Hogwarts years... pretending to be Draco's girlfriend for cover-up purposes. It would have looked odd for such a wealthy and desirable Slytherin male to remain single for his entire time at school. Hermione trusted Pansy and knew she'd never do anything, or let Draco do anything, untrustworthy.
"Aw... what can I do to make you feel better?" Draco asked, but Hermione ignored him, even as he scooted up beside her and rested his chin on her shoulder. He gave a pouty frown. "Come on, Mina."
"Don't even attempt to guilt me into this. It's your fault... not mine," she said. "I have every right in the world to be upset with you, and I plan on taking advantage of each and every one." Draco pouted for a moment, but it did nothing to better Hermione's mood. With a sigh, he opted for a less submissive approach.
"Fine," he agreed, lips in a tight and deadpan line, then turned away and pulled back his magazine. Although Draco's back was facing her, he was still very close. She knew what he was doing; the psychology may have worked in third or forth year, but she was much too intelligent to fall for it now. Besides, she knew what was going to happen. He'd start groveling again as soon as he realized his attempts were futile. In the mean time, Hermione planned to take advantage of his silence. As expected, in under two minutes, Draco turned back around, wearing that pout again. She blatantly ignored him. "Oh, is that how it is?" Again, she said nothing. "Alright then, you asked for it."
Before Hermione could even fathom what Draco had planned, he jumped on her, knocking over the pile of letters in his haste, and tickled her with all he was worth. Hermione, although she didn't seem to be, was always a very ticklish person, especially in the lower abdomen. From much research done over the years, Draco knew of this Achilles heel, and went directly for it. Hermione was curled on her back in seconds, face red as she shouted pleas through her laughter.
"Draco! Stop it! Oh, I'm gonna KILL you!" she gasped, but it made Draco smirk.
"Not the way to go about it, I'm afraid," he informed, before putting in a bit more effort and making his fiancée squeal.
"Draco, please!" When he was good and ready, or so he told himself, Draco let her off the hook, but didn't move from his hover above her. Hermione took a few moments to compose herself, getting through some last minute giggles and slowing her breathing. When she was rested again, he gave a dashing smile.
"So, do you forgive me?" Hermione gave a short laugh.
"Forgive you, why should I forgive you? I should be angrier."
"Oh, come on, don't be such a sour puss. You're reminding me of McGonagall right now, and as this," he said reaching for one of the unaddressed envelopes, "is an invitation to our wedding, that is a scary visualization." Hermione stuck out her tongue.
"Don't stick it out unless you're going to use it," Draco reminded primly, impersonating his father. Lucius always had a way of forcing habits out of them... by linking everything to kissing. Ever since they'd become old enough to know what he was talking about, Lucius had recited that line each time they'd stick their tongues out at one another. This always did keep them from fighting, however, as they were first entirely disgusted, and would then co-despise the older Malfoy together. This time, however, Hermione smirked.
"Who said I wasn't going to?" Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"Is that an invitation?" She rolled her eyes innocently.
"Well," Hermione said, "It might have been... if I weren't supposed to not speak to you." At this, Draco smirked.
"You don't need to speak for that, Mina. Think about it." At that, Hermione pushed him playfully, a smile dancing on her face. "Alright, alright... tell you what. If you forgive me, I'll take Hazel for the rest of our sentence, with absolutely no help from you whatsoever." Hermione laughed out loud.
"As if! You couldn't last one night Draco... we experimented, remember?" He grinned.
"Yes, but now I've gotten over my diaper phobia." Hermione lifted an eyebrow and Draco gave a quiet chuckle. "Alright, I'm on my way at least. Come on, please?" Hermione studied his face for a moment, then shook her head.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you're not telling me something. This is just a petty, commonplace argument. You know I'll forgive you anyway in under an hour. Why would you make such a top heavy deal?" Draco smiled.
"I always knew you were too smart for me. Mum's taking her." Hermione looked confused.
"What do you mean, 'Mum's taking her'? Taking her where?"
"Nowhere... but they'll be there for the next two weeks. She's relieving us of our duties early, because she wants us to enjoy our last few days of... I want to say freedom, but..." She slapped him again, in the arm. "That's why I hesitated."
"So you were trying to shortchange me?" Hermione accused, eyes narrowed, and Draco laughed.
"I knew you'd forgive me anyway... like you said. I was trying to be... I don't know, 'sweet' I suppose... although I despise that word when it becomes a characteristic adjective to describe a person." At this, Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him, this time harder than she had on the street. Pretending to be beaten, Draco rolled off and flopped onto the floor. "Well, then." Hermione shook her head and sat up, pulling the envelopes back into a pile. Draco, after a moment, resumed his seat beside her. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"But I thought Mum was addressing."
"Not the people I'm inviting, just the ten thousand people we've never met, but are in some way related to." Draco looked amused.
"Oh. And... who will I actually know?"
"Pansy... and Ginny if they agree to come. I'm inviting Harry and Ron, as I said... but I'm beginning to think you're right. They'd have written or something..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold the phone. Did you just admit that I might possibly be right?"
"Don't let it go to your head," Hermione said, although she knew it was in vain. Draco, smirking, knew as well.
"Already there, love... already there."
~*~
A/N I thought this chapter was a little more interesting than the previous. I know you wouldn't want to send out invites only two weeks ahead of time, But Draco said they were late... and it's not like the owls take as long as postmen. Oh yes, and the links... let me try that again...
Dress:
Sleeves:
PRF: As always, I have forgone the I love you, update soons. I like them, but... :oD
Brokenflower: I know! Little sister is the apple of his eye ;o) Aw....
Hermione Sakke: Yeah... Medieval is my FAV time period. It's about nowadays in this fic... ya know. Well, if you think about it, first year was technically 1998, I guess... then I said it was the summer after graduation, but now it's about November... so it's about 2005. Future is scary OoooOOOooo :oD
Naoko Ten'ou: I agree about the Lucius thing. I usually either make him nice, or I kill him. Narcissa is always nice... the helpless victim of years of abuse, in most cases. Like, killed him in Flames, she was nice... killed him in MPES, she was nice... made him go crazy and turn into a child in LGG, she was nice, although slightly depressed, And he's nice here... and then none of the chapters in FLYT (except this one) even mention him :oD
Croft: Ohhhh I get it now :oD Well, it DOES sort of involve that, as we need to know what Harry and Ron are going to think and everything, but basically, yeah, I see what you're saying. And I put the links up there again... I think they'll show this time :oD That is a really pretty dress... I'd look terrible in it, of course, but... :oD
Crystalline Lily: I thought it was pretty obvious he had something up his sleeve (and still does, mind you) considering he was like, alright... you caught me... and didn't even bother to deny it for a while. :oD And Drakey would NEVER do such a thing. ;o) or at least, not in MY fic...
October Potter-Snape: Me too, I love that dress :oD
Swimcutie: Yep, Medieval is my FAV era... :oD
Joebob1379: You very well might have, if you only found the first chapter familiar. It was posted under FLYT which is my collection of short stories (reviewed that is, you might have reviewed) And I will indeed add you to the mailing list, no problem :oD
Lovestruckbyanelf: Yes, they are real dresses... and they can be found at the links above :oD
Kate13: I do that sometimes... just read someone's Harry/Ginny fic or something... I appreciate it :oD
Ezmerelda: My stepmom and dad got married less than five years ago, and I KNOW what hideous concoctions there are in some of those books... makes you wonder why anyone would even DESIGN a dress like that... you know? Yick
Cotton Candy3: Yep, I did... put the links up, I mean. They should show up now :oD
Previously on PS:
"I have to say though," Hermione continued, "My mother has the worst taste in everything... there was this one dress..." she shuddered. "Let me show you..." Hermione fished in her pocket for her wand and charmed one of the bed drapes to take the form of her mother's hideous dress, then slip itself onto her. Although it was black velvet, the effect was enough. Draco burst out laughing.
"You're kidding... she did NOT like that," he said, but Hermione nodded and turned around shaking her bum at him.
"Yep. Pretty, hm?"
"Please tell me you didn't agree on it?"
"I suppose you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" she stated, smirking. "After all, I did promise." Draco looked frankly a little scared. Hermione laughed. "Whaddaya think, Hazy?" she asked, stepping toward the little blonde and tickling her tummy. She squealed in delight, and Hermione smiled. "Guess she likes it too."
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER FOUR: Pigs and Mice
Hermione grumbled as she made her way from the kitchen to the door, where someone was quite animatedly ringing the doorbell. Her mother and father were groggily eating pancakes, which she had painstakingly cooked herself, and simply mumbled requests as they heard the ring. When she opened the door, a familiar blonde became visible, leaning against the wall, which extended a foot or so past the door. An undeniable smile graced her lips.
"Hey. Bit early, isn't it?" Draco smirked and lifted a shoulder.
"I knew you'd be up. Nice robe, by the way." Hermione looked down at herself and, if he were anyone else, would have blushed. She was in fact wearing silk shorts and a cotton tank top under her robe, which only stretched to mid-thigh.
"Thanks. Coming in?" Draco chuckled.
"If you insist. Although, I'm not staying long; but have no fear, you're coming with me," he said as he stepped past her and into the living room. Hermione lifted and eyebrow at him as she closed the door.
"Why? And more importantly, where?" Draco tried to remain innocent.
"Oh, nowhere you haven't been before. The invitations have arrived, although undeniably late, and Mother has requested your presence as she addresses them," he said, then added, "And, due to the fact that my brother is up and licking envelopes, I would request you don some... warmer attire?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Fine, fine... give me five minutes," she agreed, dashing up the stairs without another word. Draco chuckled to himself as he slipped off his black leather trench coat.
"I'll make that fifteen," he mumbled before seating himself on the sofa. As expected, it took Hermione considerably longer than five minutes... in fact, it was around twenty when Draco started to get impatient. Being a gentleman, however, he kept his watch over the living room, allowing her as much time as she needed. He only hoped it'd be worth it.
Of course, it was.
Hermione could be heard tumbling down the stairs at a record twenty-six and a half minutes. She was, in Draco's opinion, worth the wait... but he would never tell her so. He loved everything from the little fur-lined Eskimo snow boots to the tight buns which resided on each side of her head, dangling with red and pink ribbons that matched her top. She held up a finger to him and Draco nodded impassively as he watched her bid adieu to her parents, then scurry back into the room.
"Alright, I'm ready." Draco nodded and led her back toward the door, opening it while she donned black gloves.
"About time. You do realize we are merely going to meet my mother, and she is only at my house, don't you? Was I hazy on that before?" Hermione, although laughing, poked him in the ribs.
"So what if I want to look good. Is that a crime? And besides, you never know who'll show up." Draco bit back his original 'You always look good', and replaced the smug smirk of a witty retort with a frown.
"You're still waiting on Harry and Ron, aren't you?" Hermione frowned as well, crossing her arms and looking away. Although they'd only walked a block, and it'd taken them about five minutes, a rosy tint was already forming in her cheeks.
"And if I am?" she spoke defiantly, as if trying to prove her loyalty. Draco sighed.
"Hermione..." It had been nearly three months since she'd even heard from either of her school chums. She'd wanted to wait until a few weeks before the wedding, but Draco thought it better if she alerted them sooner. After a game of heads-or-tails, which dubbed Draco victor, Hermione had promised to tell them everything in what would be a very lengthy letter, as soon as they wrote her their first of the summer. Unfortunately, that letter arrived via Hedwig no less than a week after she'd returned to her home. As promised, Hermione wrote a seven-page letter describing her identity, predicament, relationship with Draco, and the numerous reasons why they'd been left out. She had yet to receive a reply.
"Draco, I don't care what you say. I know Harry and Ron... they'll understand... they have to understand. They wouldn't just abandon me." Draco, lifting his hands as request for seize-fire, pretended to literally back off.
"Alright, alright... I'm sorry. So... what are you going to do?"
"Send them invitations," Hermione replied as if it were the most rudimentary thing possible, but Draco seemed surprised.
"Just... send them invitations? Did you tell them about the betrothal?" Hermione remained silent. "I believe that would be a no..."
"Well, I thought I'd soften the blow a bit and save that until my next letter... but I can't break the back and forth... it's like tradition. Etiquette. Unchangeable."
"And a wedding invitation between their best friend and worst enemy won't come as a total shock?" Hermione shifted her arms a bit, as if uncomfortable.
"Don't you think I've thought of that? I can't think of another way... if I don't hear from them... I'll leave them to their peace. If they don't want me, I'll keep away... simple as that." Draco sighed.
"Aw, come on... Hermione," he said, almost pleadingly. He didn't want her to feel unwanted... Harry and Ron weren't everyone. "Don't go getting all depressed on me. You've got to help Mum. Come on now, big smile. Like this," he prodded and gave a big and cheesy grin, chock full of pearly teeth. Of course, he looked absolutely ridiculous, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him. "There ya go. See?" he asked, swooping behind her and to her other side, gripping her shoulders and shaking playfully as if she were hot cocoa. Hermione couldn't help but smile after that. Draco could always do that... always make her smile. "Oh," he said after a moment, "And I was going to tell you... you'd have looked good even if you kept your word and came down in five minutes."
"Oh really?" she asked, smirking at his near satisfactory attempt at a compliment, although cheesy. "Do you mean that, or are you hinting at something?"
"Oh, I mean it..." he assured. "I don't know why you bother, anyway. What took so long? You girls... you've got about as much ability to manage a time budget as you do a cash one."
"And you're any better? What was that last thing you bought... oh, that's right. A Harley?"
"Hey!" Draco said, laughing. "That's not fair. I took that back." Hermione laughed.
"Only because Cissa fainted and we had to pretend it never happened."
"Alright, given... but I still don't see why you women take so much time to get ready. Honestly, it's all of you. Mum... Maddy... lord, it even takes Hazy half an hour to get dressed... and that's with help! And don't even tell me it's your hair, because, being a very vain and proud of it male, I happen to know that with skill that could also be accomplished in under five minutes." Hermione gave a snort.
"Yeah, when all you have to do is run your hand over it. I'd like to see you make pigs in a blanket on your head in five minutes. I've been doing my hair my entire life... I know these things."
"Is that what that's called?" he asked, gesturing to her head, and Hermione gave a shrug.
"That's what I've always called it."
"Well..." Draco said, pretending as if he were inspecting this new creation. "I think it makes you look like a mouse." Hermione's jaw dropped in outrage.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, placing hands on her hips, and Draco blinked his eyes innocently. In retaliation, Hermione pushed him. Being as Draco was of much greater mass than she, he barely moved... but when he pushed her back, she toppled right into the shrubbery behind her. After a bit of a fight and many small wails of struggle, Hermione freed herself from the bush's confines, only to see Draco had dashed down the street. "Draco Demetrius Malfoy, you get your scrawny Slytherin arse back here right now!" she called down the street, and Draco turned around, giving her a tiny wave before picking up speed and heading toward home. With a scowl, Hermione stormed after him, huffing the entire way.
~*~*~*~
When Hermione made it into Malfoy Manor, Draco was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and pulled off her gloves before heading toward the drawing room, which seemed the most likely place to address a thousand some-odd envelopes. The door was closed, but there was definite movement behind, so Hermione knocked.
"Cissa? It's Hermione."
"Oh! Come in dear! I'm glad you're finally here!" called the unmistakable voice of Narcissa Malfoy, and Hermione took her advice, stepping through the doorway. Her mother-in-law was sitting at a desk, a stack of addressed envelopes to one side, and a larger stack of blanks to the other. Hermione watched as she placed three or four different cards in one envelope and scribbled out an address, then handed it to Lucifer, who, as Draco had said, was licking envelopes. As Hermione entered, Lucifer stopped mid-lick and sniggered. Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but at that moment, Narcissa looked up. "Hermione, love, what happened?" she asked, making Hermione feel extremely self conscious. She brought a hand to her face, as if expecting to feel blood.
"What do you mean?" The older women stood from her seat and bustled over, then proceeded to pick something from Hermione's hair.
"Leaves," she explained, holding them out to her. Hermione scowled at the little green plants.
"Draco," she said, then sighed. "Prick. Anyway... what do I do?" Narcissa, clueless expression forgone, smiled.
"Well," she said, "If you can put the packets together while I address them, it will go much faster. I already have the list your mother wrote up, and I've added mine. When we're done with that, you can have whatever's left. Draco has already informed me that he has no one he wishes to invite. Typical, if you ask me." Hermione, as requested, sat down and began assembling the packets, after much instruction from her matron.
"Why is there so much?"
"Well, there's the invite... then the reply card and envelope, a menu, a schedule, directions, and the address to send gifts to. Quite a lot, isn't it?" Hermione nodded, and started in.
~*~*~*~
It was nearly noon before the trio had come close to even remotely finishing the list of people. In the end, Narcissa had counted out the number she needed (as Hermione had become quite good at her job and filled the remainder much quicker than Narcissa could emboss them with fancy calligraphy) and given the rest to her daughter. Hermione had left promptly, giving the excuse of cooking lunch before Madeline harmed herself, although she had no intention to do so. Instead, Hermione climbed the latter to the little tree house in the Malfoy yard, planning on having a good heart to heart with herself.
What she didn't plan on, however, was that Draco would be stretched out across the floor, levitating a magazine a foot from his face. She made a slight sound of disgust and toyed with the idea of leaving before he noticed her... but Draco was too quick for that.
"Hey," he said, tossing his book to the side and gracefully pulling himself into a sitting position. Deciding she would go with her original plan, Hermione said nothing back and climbed into the room, settling herself in the corner. She pulled the pile of envelopes from her bag, and began the task of addressing them. Of course, she would forgo calligraphy, making the ordeal take considerably less time. Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Hello?" Again, Hermione remained silent. "Herm-I-o-ne.... hello? Anyone home?"
"I'm not speaking to you," she finally admitted, and Draco laughed.
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Right... is this about the bush thing?" Hermione looked up from her first card, which was still addressee-less, and scowled. "I'll take that as a yes. Oh, come on... you pushed me first."
"You called me a mouse," she retorted, and Draco shrugged as if to say 'guilty'.
"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"
"Well, you're just so insufferable! Sometimes I just want to strangle you," Hermione threatened, teeth clenched, but Draco simply shook his head.
"You don't mean that," he told her. "You could never stay mad at little ol' me." Hermione glared.
"Watch me." With that, she turned back to her envelope and began addressing it to Harry. It was decided then that if they didn't come, she didn't want anyone there. Although the stack contained at least a dozen invitations... only two would be used. Well, perhaps three. Pansy Parkinson had been on the inside scoop throughout their Hogwarts years... pretending to be Draco's girlfriend for cover-up purposes. It would have looked odd for such a wealthy and desirable Slytherin male to remain single for his entire time at school. Hermione trusted Pansy and knew she'd never do anything, or let Draco do anything, untrustworthy.
"Aw... what can I do to make you feel better?" Draco asked, but Hermione ignored him, even as he scooted up beside her and rested his chin on her shoulder. He gave a pouty frown. "Come on, Mina."
"Don't even attempt to guilt me into this. It's your fault... not mine," she said. "I have every right in the world to be upset with you, and I plan on taking advantage of each and every one." Draco pouted for a moment, but it did nothing to better Hermione's mood. With a sigh, he opted for a less submissive approach.
"Fine," he agreed, lips in a tight and deadpan line, then turned away and pulled back his magazine. Although Draco's back was facing her, he was still very close. She knew what he was doing; the psychology may have worked in third or forth year, but she was much too intelligent to fall for it now. Besides, she knew what was going to happen. He'd start groveling again as soon as he realized his attempts were futile. In the mean time, Hermione planned to take advantage of his silence. As expected, in under two minutes, Draco turned back around, wearing that pout again. She blatantly ignored him. "Oh, is that how it is?" Again, she said nothing. "Alright then, you asked for it."
Before Hermione could even fathom what Draco had planned, he jumped on her, knocking over the pile of letters in his haste, and tickled her with all he was worth. Hermione, although she didn't seem to be, was always a very ticklish person, especially in the lower abdomen. From much research done over the years, Draco knew of this Achilles heel, and went directly for it. Hermione was curled on her back in seconds, face red as she shouted pleas through her laughter.
"Draco! Stop it! Oh, I'm gonna KILL you!" she gasped, but it made Draco smirk.
"Not the way to go about it, I'm afraid," he informed, before putting in a bit more effort and making his fiancée squeal.
"Draco, please!" When he was good and ready, or so he told himself, Draco let her off the hook, but didn't move from his hover above her. Hermione took a few moments to compose herself, getting through some last minute giggles and slowing her breathing. When she was rested again, he gave a dashing smile.
"So, do you forgive me?" Hermione gave a short laugh.
"Forgive you, why should I forgive you? I should be angrier."
"Oh, come on, don't be such a sour puss. You're reminding me of McGonagall right now, and as this," he said reaching for one of the unaddressed envelopes, "is an invitation to our wedding, that is a scary visualization." Hermione stuck out her tongue.
"Don't stick it out unless you're going to use it," Draco reminded primly, impersonating his father. Lucius always had a way of forcing habits out of them... by linking everything to kissing. Ever since they'd become old enough to know what he was talking about, Lucius had recited that line each time they'd stick their tongues out at one another. This always did keep them from fighting, however, as they were first entirely disgusted, and would then co-despise the older Malfoy together. This time, however, Hermione smirked.
"Who said I wasn't going to?" Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"Is that an invitation?" She rolled her eyes innocently.
"Well," Hermione said, "It might have been... if I weren't supposed to not speak to you." At this, Draco smirked.
"You don't need to speak for that, Mina. Think about it." At that, Hermione pushed him playfully, a smile dancing on her face. "Alright, alright... tell you what. If you forgive me, I'll take Hazel for the rest of our sentence, with absolutely no help from you whatsoever." Hermione laughed out loud.
"As if! You couldn't last one night Draco... we experimented, remember?" He grinned.
"Yes, but now I've gotten over my diaper phobia." Hermione lifted an eyebrow and Draco gave a quiet chuckle. "Alright, I'm on my way at least. Come on, please?" Hermione studied his face for a moment, then shook her head.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you're not telling me something. This is just a petty, commonplace argument. You know I'll forgive you anyway in under an hour. Why would you make such a top heavy deal?" Draco smiled.
"I always knew you were too smart for me. Mum's taking her." Hermione looked confused.
"What do you mean, 'Mum's taking her'? Taking her where?"
"Nowhere... but they'll be there for the next two weeks. She's relieving us of our duties early, because she wants us to enjoy our last few days of... I want to say freedom, but..." She slapped him again, in the arm. "That's why I hesitated."
"So you were trying to shortchange me?" Hermione accused, eyes narrowed, and Draco laughed.
"I knew you'd forgive me anyway... like you said. I was trying to be... I don't know, 'sweet' I suppose... although I despise that word when it becomes a characteristic adjective to describe a person." At this, Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him, this time harder than she had on the street. Pretending to be beaten, Draco rolled off and flopped onto the floor. "Well, then." Hermione shook her head and sat up, pulling the envelopes back into a pile. Draco, after a moment, resumed his seat beside her. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"But I thought Mum was addressing."
"Not the people I'm inviting, just the ten thousand people we've never met, but are in some way related to." Draco looked amused.
"Oh. And... who will I actually know?"
"Pansy... and Ginny if they agree to come. I'm inviting Harry and Ron, as I said... but I'm beginning to think you're right. They'd have written or something..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold the phone. Did you just admit that I might possibly be right?"
"Don't let it go to your head," Hermione said, although she knew it was in vain. Draco, smirking, knew as well.
"Already there, love... already there."
~*~
A/N I thought this chapter was a little more interesting than the previous. I know you wouldn't want to send out invites only two weeks ahead of time, But Draco said they were late... and it's not like the owls take as long as postmen. Oh yes, and the links... let me try that again...
Dress:
Sleeves:
PRF: As always, I have forgone the I love you, update soons. I like them, but... :oD
Brokenflower: I know! Little sister is the apple of his eye ;o) Aw....
Hermione Sakke: Yeah... Medieval is my FAV time period. It's about nowadays in this fic... ya know. Well, if you think about it, first year was technically 1998, I guess... then I said it was the summer after graduation, but now it's about November... so it's about 2005. Future is scary OoooOOOooo :oD
Naoko Ten'ou: I agree about the Lucius thing. I usually either make him nice, or I kill him. Narcissa is always nice... the helpless victim of years of abuse, in most cases. Like, killed him in Flames, she was nice... killed him in MPES, she was nice... made him go crazy and turn into a child in LGG, she was nice, although slightly depressed, And he's nice here... and then none of the chapters in FLYT (except this one) even mention him :oD
Croft: Ohhhh I get it now :oD Well, it DOES sort of involve that, as we need to know what Harry and Ron are going to think and everything, but basically, yeah, I see what you're saying. And I put the links up there again... I think they'll show this time :oD That is a really pretty dress... I'd look terrible in it, of course, but... :oD
Crystalline Lily: I thought it was pretty obvious he had something up his sleeve (and still does, mind you) considering he was like, alright... you caught me... and didn't even bother to deny it for a while. :oD And Drakey would NEVER do such a thing. ;o) or at least, not in MY fic...
October Potter-Snape: Me too, I love that dress :oD
Swimcutie: Yep, Medieval is my FAV era... :oD
Joebob1379: You very well might have, if you only found the first chapter familiar. It was posted under FLYT which is my collection of short stories (reviewed that is, you might have reviewed) And I will indeed add you to the mailing list, no problem :oD
Lovestruckbyanelf: Yes, they are real dresses... and they can be found at the links above :oD
Kate13: I do that sometimes... just read someone's Harry/Ginny fic or something... I appreciate it :oD
Ezmerelda: My stepmom and dad got married less than five years ago, and I KNOW what hideous concoctions there are in some of those books... makes you wonder why anyone would even DESIGN a dress like that... you know? Yick
Cotton Candy3: Yep, I did... put the links up, I mean. They should show up now :oD