Previously on PS:
Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Bell Tolls
Hermione sighed softly to herself as she picked the petals from an earth colored rose, charmed to look, feel, smell, and die just like a live one. She was dressed in the prim white outfit her mother had picked for her that very morning, and wedged between pews in the chapel. She'd been shoed from the room where Ginny, Narcissa, Hazel, and Madeline were dressing, as they claimed she was making them nervous. She wasn't to be dressed until absolutely necessary, as no disaster could befall her gown before show time. This left her with much time to spare and no men to bother, as they were all still stationed and dressing at Malfoy Manor, where the reception was to take place. Hermione assumed that, had Draco and the others even been on the other side of the church she wouldn't have gone to see them anyway. It was of course, customary for her father to visit as she readied and tell her how absolutely beautiful she looked, but it was his job to find her. Hermione feared her mother's wrath were she to look for her father and happen upon Draco.
The church was decorated beautifully and Madeline had repeated Hunter's assurance of the reception hall coming along just fine. The women had spent nearly two hours simply hanging lace and lighting candles. When seven rolled around, the women, minus bride, had locked themselves in the dressing room and left Hermione to wander. They assured that she would have plenty of time and attention once they were finished. That seemed like hours ago.
Now, Hermione was alone in the church, head curled over a book of hymns. She hummed softly to the music, and once or twice ventured a word or two of song. It was all in minimal amusement as she waited for some sort of news on the situation in the dressing room. However unimportant her singing may be, Hermione was so inthrawled with a particular hymn that she didn't hear the doors to the chapel open.
"Hermione?" asked a curious voice and Hermione snapped her head up, stopping her singing.
"Lucifer?" she wondered aloud, and was greeted by stomps as her almost- brother clotted down the aisle, wearing a dashing tux and polished shoes.
"Sis? Where have you been? The whole family's gone mad looking for you!" he said after a sigh, coming to a halt in front of her pew. Then, findings aside, he lifted an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" Hermione ignored his second question.
"Looking for me? Why? I've been here since they kicked me out," she told him and slipped the hymnbook back in it's holder before standing and stretching her legs a bit. "Cor, I'm exhausted. I feel like I've been crouching there for hours..."
"You nearly have," Lucifer informed before grabbing her hand and pulling her back out the pew and toward the doors.
"What? What time is it?"
"Almost eight thirty... we've been looking for an hour."
"What?" Hermione called in outrage. She was supposed to be getting married in half an hour, and she wasn't even dressed. Her hair was down and probably knotted... face bearing more oil than makeup. She no longer needed Lucifer's help or encouragement, and bolted toward the doors. He followed quite steadily, keeping up with long strides. As they burst through the doors, he announced his espial.
"I found her!"
"Oh thank heavens... Hermione! What were you thinking!" called Madeline as she bustled out of a small alcove near the dressing room and toward her daughter. The church was very small, and it was only seconds later that Narcissa entered from another hall, and Ginny from a near by bathroom. All three women looked both relieved and worried at the same time.
"Hermione! I thought for sure you'd gone and gotten cold feet..." Ginny voiced, skirt hiked as she dashed down the hall. As the only woman in the wedding party, besides the bride and Hazel, of course, she wore a simple dress of brown velvet which tied in the front in a style like Hermione's, but with much less elegance... making her look more like a well dressed chambermaid than a maid of honor.
"Where have you been, young lady?" Hermione's mother demanded, crossing her arms.
"Mum, I..." she started, but was cut off.
"Forget it, we don't have time... come on, now!" Mrs. Boyce said, taking hold of Hermione's arm and dragging her toward the dressing room where the stylist and makeup artist waited patiently, reading magazines... paid by the hour. Ginny shook her head and laughed softly to herself as she followed behind.
"Lucifer, love, go find your father and Hunter, would you? I think Hermione might need a bit more enforcement on her side... you know Maddy..."
"Yes Mum," he agreed, starting toward the door. Narcissa smiled after him and began to make her way toward the little room Hermione and her minions had entered, but gasped slightly and turned back.
"Oh, and Lucifer?" Her son turned back just as he opened the door. "Let your brother out of the closet."
~*~*~*~
Draco waited patiently, seated on a towel, which rested on a bucket. His bride was missing and the only help he could be was to sit in a four by four room and hope she didn't feel the sudden urge to mop. He understood that he wasn't allowed to see her... and that this was much bigger a deal than he'd originally assumed... but Draco just couldn't understand the point of the closet. He could have hid in the men's toilets and been absolutely sure... now he was completely paranoid each time a set of footsteps made their way down the hall.
And on top of all this, he was wracked with worry. Ginny had been absolutely sure that Hermione had run off to avoid the responsibilities of marriage, stated this way only so Draco would not feel guilty, but her methods hadn't worked. Draco felt immensely guilty... maybe the ring was too much... too final... he shouldn't have kissed her like that... it was much more intimate than any kiss they'd ever shared prior... and of course, those final three words. He could have kicked himself. What a way to scare away your fiancée than with a heartfelt 'I love you' just hours from your wedding? No matter what Ginny said, or how she twisted her words... it all came down to one fact. Hermione had left him at the altar. Because his only means of amusement was a ratty mop and the bucket beneath his tails, Draco laughed quietly at his own thoughts. He hadn't even seen the altar yet, much less have been waiting at it.
Just as this chuckle died, two hurried sets of footprints stomped down his hall and a muffled voice called out. This caused Draco to straighten his posture and perk his ears, but alas, he couldn't hear a thing. Curious, and sure there was talking, the groom stood from his bucket top perch and pressed an ear to the wood of the door. This didn't help in the slightest... in fact, it seemed to make his hearing worse... but Draco simply pushed harder, putting his full weight against the door.
Unexpectedly, the knob turned and the wood swung out from underneath him, leaving the soon-to-be-married Malfoy to fall unceremoniously to the floor. This was accompanied not a moment later with sharp laughter, and Draco looked up with narrowed eyes to see his brother hunched over in laughter. As the younger blonde stood, Lucifer dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Draco just scoffed.
"Yes, yes..." he mumbled angrily, brushing the invisible dirt from his tux and smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles. He stopped suddenly, embarrassment forgotten, and wiped the sneer from his face. Lucifer was just lifting himself from the ground, breathing slightly hard. "Did you find her?" Draco asked, almost desperately, and his brother looked up.
"What?"
"Hermione, did you find her?" Lucifer took a moment to look idiotic; furrowing his brows as if he had no idea what Draco was on about.
"Oh! Yeah... she was in the church."
"What?" Draco asked, but didn't sound overly concerned. He was too busy being relieved that she hadn't run away to Scotland or something as preposterous.
"I have no idea what she was doing... said something about her mother making her leave... she's getting ready now."
"So she wasn't hiding?" Draco asked, smoothing his hair, which was already flawless, despite his slipup. Lucifer chuckled a bit and slapped his brother's shoulder.
"I doubt it... the chapel wouldn't be the wisest place for that, would it? And she about ripped my arm off once I told her how late it was." Draco gave a slight sigh and followed Lucifer, who was heading back toward the exit doors.
"So we're back on?"
"Looks that way."
"What about the guests?"
"Outside," Lucifer explained, opening the heavy slabs and stepping into the sunlight. Draco followed, eyebrows slightly knotted. Instead of asking his brother why they'd banned the guests from the church, he took a look for himself. About a hundred each Malfoy and Boyce family members were crammed into a small church pavilion, chatting excitedly as if nothing wrong had happened. Draco gave his brother a look, but Lucifer shook his head and started away.
"Draco!" he heard someone call, just before a thin girl in a fluttery pink dress squeezed between two of Hermione's rather stout aunts and hurried toward him. Draco grinned and opened his arms just in time to be pummeled. He chuckled and embraced his rose clad friend.
"Pansy... how are you? It's been forever," he granted and Pansy laughed softly as she pulled back.
"No, you know what's forever? How long I've been looking for you! Where were you hiding?" she asked with a quirk to her lips, painted with a pretty coral. Draco held back a laugh at her acute accuracy.
"You'd be surprised. I couldn't just go gallivanting while they were looking for Hermione... I'm not supposed to see her, you know." As opposed to Draco's idea of Pansy's reaction, she frowned.
"Looking for Hermione? What do you mean?" Draco smirked and shook his head.
"Just some miscommunication. Everything's fine now... is Uncle Marty here?" he asked, more to change conversation, and pushed her gently back toward the crowds of people whom, once they noticed him, embraced Draco with hugs and congratulations.
~*~*~*~
"Can't you do that any faster?" Madeline pushed, giving a nasty look to the stylist who was fixing Hermione's hair. To conserve time, they'd decided to do both make up and hair simultaneously... but this just caused clutter.
"You can't rush art, Ma'am," said the young girl in a thick Scottish accent, extenuated by a pop of her bubble gum.
"Mum," Hermione scolded, trying not to move too much. Madeline threw up her hands in exasperation and plopped onto the couch next to Ginny, who was sitting straight and prim, playing with the knee of her skirt as she stared at the floor with empty eyes. "Gin?" Hermione asked, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. The make up artist rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, but said nothing and continued in his work. Madeline glared.
Ginny's head snapped up at Hermione's voice and she forced a small smile.
"What's wrong?" her friend asked and Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "Gin?"
"Nothing, Mione... I was just so sure Harry and Ron would be here..." At this, Hermione's lips fell into a deep frown and the makeup artist let out a grunt of frustration. Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes, tilting her head forward.
"Look...H... whatever, bride... I'm going to need you to stop moving now. Are you comfortable with this face, or would you like to change positioning before I begin again?" huffed the man in front of her, and Hermione opened her eyes just long enough to glare at him before she heaved a heavy sigh and closed them again. With a sigh of his own, the artist again began to dust her face with color.
~*~*~*~
As Madeline had significantly higher expectations than her daughter, Hermione didn't make an appearance in the chapel until ten AM. She was ready on time... but Madeline wasn't satisfied. She made the hair stylist try three different styles before deciding on the original one. Hermione, had she not been so nervous, would have told her mother off. Right now, her thoughts were elsewhere. A certain thirty feet elsewhere.
"Hermione?" Narcissa asked from her side, and Hermione turned toward her, somewhat startled. "Ready, love?" the blonde woman asked, handing Hermione a large bouquet of flowers and tilting her head slightly. Hermione could tell she was ecstatic.
"Honestly, Narcissa... no, I'm not."
"Don't worry dear... it won't be all that bad, I promise," Narcissa assured just moments before a loud organ began to play a familiar tune. "Oh, that's my cue. You'll be fine," she said, kissed Hermione's cheek through the veil and walked the short distance to the doors, taking her husband's arm. Just ahead of them were Madeline and Lucifer, as Mr. Boyce would be accompanying his daughter.
"Easy for you to say..." Hermione mumbled to herself. "You married for love." Unexpectedly, as she said these words, Hermione felt her stomach lurch. What she'd just uttered could very well be taken to mean that she didn't love Draco. By at least some extent, she knew this was entirely untrue. Given another option, she probably wouldn't have jumped directly into a marriage, but Hermione was assured, even by herself, that she would be reduced to nothing were something to happen to him. There was no doubt that Draco was extremely important to her... Hermione immediately regretted her words.
"Princess?" asked Mr. Boyce, breaking Hermione once again from her thoughts. She smiled at her father, but her attention was averted then to Ginny, who waved before starting down the aisle. "You look beautiful, love," Hunter stated, and again, Hermione turned to him with a smile. "Excited?" She made a tiny moan.
"I don't even know, Daddy... I'm so nervous..."
"I know you've probably heard this a million times by now, but trust your dear old dad... it'll get better."
"I hope so, Daddy," Hermione said, trying as best as she could to be optimistic. Just then, a great commotion was heard from the church as all those present stood to greet their main attraction. In moments, the wedding march began to play, and Hunter held out his arm. "That's us, I think." Hermione gave a weak smile and took a deep breath, before linking her arm in her fathers and allowing him to lead her toward the doors.
For what seemed like hours, Hermione endured the torture of happy smiles, and warm nods as she marched down the center aisle, clutching her father's arm and keeping a magazine smile on her face. No matter what, Hermione would not look straight ahead. Had someone frozen time and asked her if Draco were standing at the altar, she honestly wouldn't have been able to give a positive answer. An assumption of yes, as her father seemed near tears. Instead of focusing on the task at hand, Hermione took in the scenery. It was nothing new... it had been planned and executed with her help that very morning... brown roses and petals lined the aisle, candles hung from everywhere imaginable, the ends of the pews decorated in bunches of calla lilies, and spritzes of lace and mesh along the rows and walls. It was beautiful... but old to her eyes.
After what seemed like hours, her father came to a stop. Hermione was almost startled, she had grown nearly accustomed to marching down the hall, eyes everywhere but forward. She turned to her father with innocent eyes, only to see tiny teardrops forming in the corners of his own. She gave him a weak smile and he lifted her veil, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"I love you, Mina," he whispered, then broke away to sit with her mother, who was already dabbing her eyes with a floral hanky. As Hunter sat down, she turned her head into his shoulder and commenced bawling, while he patted her back and nodded for Hermione to take the step forward needed to start the ceremony. Heart racing, Hermione turned back ahead and slowly brought her eyes from Draco's shiny shoes, to his equally polished hair. She lost herself for a moment as they made eye contact. He was beautiful.
When they'd gone to school, she'd despised the way he wore his hair... slicked back like a cue ball... but today it accented his face... crowned him like a halo. He was grinning, obviously a bit more at ease than she was. Beside him was Lucifer, dressed in a similar tux, but with a smaller boutonnière, long hair plaited with black ribbon behind his head. To Draco's right was the space she was to occupy, and further down the line stood Ginny, looking rustic and excited. Next to her, and a surprise to Hermione, was Hazel, wearing what looked like a christening gown, and seated in a lacy white stroller.
As the wedding march ended, Hermione focused her attention back on Draco, who was still smiling, and waiting patiently. A note of silence pierced the air, and Hermione swallowed her fear, stepping up to take her position. She handed her bouquet to Ginny, then turned back to her fiancé, soon to be husband. She suppressed a shudder, and spent nearly a moment pondering its cause.
The priest, an elderly man with a beard to rival Dumbledore and large bottle-cap glasses that gave him the appearance of a large insect, motioned for the congregation to be seated. Hermione, as she hadn't seen the hand gesture, was startled by this, and gasped slightly, turning her head to the crowd in a paranoiac manor. When she calmed herself and the priest began to speak, Hermione turned her attention back to Draco, who was now lifting an eyebrow. She gave him a weak smile, and he reached for her hands, as commanded by the bible-clad man. As the squat little friar droned on about vows and the sacred union of matrimony, Hermione kept her eyes on the floor, as if in prayer. Draco squeezed her hand after a few moments, and Hermione lifted her head to again meet his eyes. He was still smiling, and spoke silently, mouthing his words.
'You look beautiful,' he told her, and Hermione smiled a bit, but didn't respond. Draco grew a bit daring. From the moment he'd seen her in the entryway, he knew this wasn't a mistake. He might very well have wanted to marry her regardless of bloodlines, birthright, or family obligation. If they were just two teenagers who met at the beach... he'd have never let her go. 'I love you.' He tried, and Hermione felt a warmth course through her. He hadn't even said it out loud and still it had such an effect. Although she wasn't entirely sure of herself, Hermione figured she owed it to him. She spoke a silent 'I love you too', and watched with amusement as Draco's eyebrows shot up. She nearly laughed out loud. It didn't matter if she wasn't consciously aware of the exact truth to that statement, as she would be married in a half hour's time... to the man before her. Why shouldn't she love him? Or at least humor him...
~*~*~*~
"And... Let's see... by the... by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and..." The priest carried on, much to the relief of the wedding party and guests. They'd evidently gotten a seasoned minister, as he'd taken over an hour and a half to perform a simple ceremony, with provided vows and no special services. Just vows, rings, kiss... marriage. It couldn't possibly have taken any longer... but he paused. "And..." The old man adjusted his glasses, trying to read the tiny bible script. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Wife," she whispered, much to the amusement of the man so very close to being her husband.
"What?" barked the priest, looking up from the book and setting his bug eyes on the bride. She smiled kindly, as if he were a child.
"Man and wife," she provided, and the already enormous eyes widened.
"Right, then... I now pronounce you man and wife," he announced, and closed his bible, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Draco and Hermione, hand in hand, stared at him expectantly, but the little man was finished. He just grinned at them.
"Oh, forget it," Draco said in exasparation and leaned forward, giving Hermione a solid peck on the lips. The congregation burst into applause and Draco released Hermione's left hand, pulling her back down the aisle. As per custom, the newlyweds were pelted with rice, then chased out the chapel toward the limo that awaited him. Hermione had never had so much fun in her life... it had yet to sink in that she was now officially Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Hermione Boyce-Malfoy.
Instead, she threw caution to the wind and giggled like mad as the little twangs touched her skin. Draco seemed in a hurry to get out of that mess, and rushed her to their transportation. Like a gentleman, he opened the door, allowing Hermione to slide in. She didn't stop laughing until he was safely seated beside her and the door had closed. Draco just watched in amusement. When her spasms died down and she simply stared at him with blissful eyes, Draco lifted one arm over the back of the seat, and brought the other hand to brush a bit of rice from her nose. Hermione laughed again, and covered her face. Draco smirked deviously, and she let her hands fall into her lap.
"That was fun," Hermione admitted, "Although I was nervous as hell." Draco smiled.
"I'll have to admit to both those conclusions myself. I'm rather glad it's over, to tell you the truth." Hermione bit her lip slightly and nodded, then heaved a heavy sigh.
"Why aren't we moving?" Draco chuckled.
"Because we have to wait until everyone else gets there... that way we can make a fashionable entrance."
"Oh... right," Hermione said, but it was interrupted by a yawn. Smirking to himself, Draco pushed her shoulder gently, and Hermione gratefully accepted his suggestion, resting her head below his chin and closing her eyes. Draco replaced his arm on the back of the seat and slid down a bit, sighing.
"Hermione?" he asked, disturbing the quiet.
"Hm?"
"We're married." Hermione smiled, but didn't bother to respond. It was nearly five minutes later before she said anything.
"Draco?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you smell like furniture polish?"
~*~*~*~
A/N: I have just been informed by a person who shall remain nameless, that this story is 1) boring 2) melodramatic 3)overdone. I find this saddening, as I was not aware of this before. If you agree with Kr... I mean, this anonymous person, please let me know. I do not much care for pseudo- reviews... "Awesome! I love it!" when they don't mean a thing. I would like to know. I'm sorry if I've been boring you all this entire time...
Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Bell Tolls
Hermione sighed softly to herself as she picked the petals from an earth colored rose, charmed to look, feel, smell, and die just like a live one. She was dressed in the prim white outfit her mother had picked for her that very morning, and wedged between pews in the chapel. She'd been shoed from the room where Ginny, Narcissa, Hazel, and Madeline were dressing, as they claimed she was making them nervous. She wasn't to be dressed until absolutely necessary, as no disaster could befall her gown before show time. This left her with much time to spare and no men to bother, as they were all still stationed and dressing at Malfoy Manor, where the reception was to take place. Hermione assumed that, had Draco and the others even been on the other side of the church she wouldn't have gone to see them anyway. It was of course, customary for her father to visit as she readied and tell her how absolutely beautiful she looked, but it was his job to find her. Hermione feared her mother's wrath were she to look for her father and happen upon Draco.
The church was decorated beautifully and Madeline had repeated Hunter's assurance of the reception hall coming along just fine. The women had spent nearly two hours simply hanging lace and lighting candles. When seven rolled around, the women, minus bride, had locked themselves in the dressing room and left Hermione to wander. They assured that she would have plenty of time and attention once they were finished. That seemed like hours ago.
Now, Hermione was alone in the church, head curled over a book of hymns. She hummed softly to the music, and once or twice ventured a word or two of song. It was all in minimal amusement as she waited for some sort of news on the situation in the dressing room. However unimportant her singing may be, Hermione was so inthrawled with a particular hymn that she didn't hear the doors to the chapel open.
"Hermione?" asked a curious voice and Hermione snapped her head up, stopping her singing.
"Lucifer?" she wondered aloud, and was greeted by stomps as her almost- brother clotted down the aisle, wearing a dashing tux and polished shoes.
"Sis? Where have you been? The whole family's gone mad looking for you!" he said after a sigh, coming to a halt in front of her pew. Then, findings aside, he lifted an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" Hermione ignored his second question.
"Looking for me? Why? I've been here since they kicked me out," she told him and slipped the hymnbook back in it's holder before standing and stretching her legs a bit. "Cor, I'm exhausted. I feel like I've been crouching there for hours..."
"You nearly have," Lucifer informed before grabbing her hand and pulling her back out the pew and toward the doors.
"What? What time is it?"
"Almost eight thirty... we've been looking for an hour."
"What?" Hermione called in outrage. She was supposed to be getting married in half an hour, and she wasn't even dressed. Her hair was down and probably knotted... face bearing more oil than makeup. She no longer needed Lucifer's help or encouragement, and bolted toward the doors. He followed quite steadily, keeping up with long strides. As they burst through the doors, he announced his espial.
"I found her!"
"Oh thank heavens... Hermione! What were you thinking!" called Madeline as she bustled out of a small alcove near the dressing room and toward her daughter. The church was very small, and it was only seconds later that Narcissa entered from another hall, and Ginny from a near by bathroom. All three women looked both relieved and worried at the same time.
"Hermione! I thought for sure you'd gone and gotten cold feet..." Ginny voiced, skirt hiked as she dashed down the hall. As the only woman in the wedding party, besides the bride and Hazel, of course, she wore a simple dress of brown velvet which tied in the front in a style like Hermione's, but with much less elegance... making her look more like a well dressed chambermaid than a maid of honor.
"Where have you been, young lady?" Hermione's mother demanded, crossing her arms.
"Mum, I..." she started, but was cut off.
"Forget it, we don't have time... come on, now!" Mrs. Boyce said, taking hold of Hermione's arm and dragging her toward the dressing room where the stylist and makeup artist waited patiently, reading magazines... paid by the hour. Ginny shook her head and laughed softly to herself as she followed behind.
"Lucifer, love, go find your father and Hunter, would you? I think Hermione might need a bit more enforcement on her side... you know Maddy..."
"Yes Mum," he agreed, starting toward the door. Narcissa smiled after him and began to make her way toward the little room Hermione and her minions had entered, but gasped slightly and turned back.
"Oh, and Lucifer?" Her son turned back just as he opened the door. "Let your brother out of the closet."
~*~*~*~
Draco waited patiently, seated on a towel, which rested on a bucket. His bride was missing and the only help he could be was to sit in a four by four room and hope she didn't feel the sudden urge to mop. He understood that he wasn't allowed to see her... and that this was much bigger a deal than he'd originally assumed... but Draco just couldn't understand the point of the closet. He could have hid in the men's toilets and been absolutely sure... now he was completely paranoid each time a set of footsteps made their way down the hall.
And on top of all this, he was wracked with worry. Ginny had been absolutely sure that Hermione had run off to avoid the responsibilities of marriage, stated this way only so Draco would not feel guilty, but her methods hadn't worked. Draco felt immensely guilty... maybe the ring was too much... too final... he shouldn't have kissed her like that... it was much more intimate than any kiss they'd ever shared prior... and of course, those final three words. He could have kicked himself. What a way to scare away your fiancée than with a heartfelt 'I love you' just hours from your wedding? No matter what Ginny said, or how she twisted her words... it all came down to one fact. Hermione had left him at the altar. Because his only means of amusement was a ratty mop and the bucket beneath his tails, Draco laughed quietly at his own thoughts. He hadn't even seen the altar yet, much less have been waiting at it.
Just as this chuckle died, two hurried sets of footprints stomped down his hall and a muffled voice called out. This caused Draco to straighten his posture and perk his ears, but alas, he couldn't hear a thing. Curious, and sure there was talking, the groom stood from his bucket top perch and pressed an ear to the wood of the door. This didn't help in the slightest... in fact, it seemed to make his hearing worse... but Draco simply pushed harder, putting his full weight against the door.
Unexpectedly, the knob turned and the wood swung out from underneath him, leaving the soon-to-be-married Malfoy to fall unceremoniously to the floor. This was accompanied not a moment later with sharp laughter, and Draco looked up with narrowed eyes to see his brother hunched over in laughter. As the younger blonde stood, Lucifer dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Draco just scoffed.
"Yes, yes..." he mumbled angrily, brushing the invisible dirt from his tux and smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles. He stopped suddenly, embarrassment forgotten, and wiped the sneer from his face. Lucifer was just lifting himself from the ground, breathing slightly hard. "Did you find her?" Draco asked, almost desperately, and his brother looked up.
"What?"
"Hermione, did you find her?" Lucifer took a moment to look idiotic; furrowing his brows as if he had no idea what Draco was on about.
"Oh! Yeah... she was in the church."
"What?" Draco asked, but didn't sound overly concerned. He was too busy being relieved that she hadn't run away to Scotland or something as preposterous.
"I have no idea what she was doing... said something about her mother making her leave... she's getting ready now."
"So she wasn't hiding?" Draco asked, smoothing his hair, which was already flawless, despite his slipup. Lucifer chuckled a bit and slapped his brother's shoulder.
"I doubt it... the chapel wouldn't be the wisest place for that, would it? And she about ripped my arm off once I told her how late it was." Draco gave a slight sigh and followed Lucifer, who was heading back toward the exit doors.
"So we're back on?"
"Looks that way."
"What about the guests?"
"Outside," Lucifer explained, opening the heavy slabs and stepping into the sunlight. Draco followed, eyebrows slightly knotted. Instead of asking his brother why they'd banned the guests from the church, he took a look for himself. About a hundred each Malfoy and Boyce family members were crammed into a small church pavilion, chatting excitedly as if nothing wrong had happened. Draco gave his brother a look, but Lucifer shook his head and started away.
"Draco!" he heard someone call, just before a thin girl in a fluttery pink dress squeezed between two of Hermione's rather stout aunts and hurried toward him. Draco grinned and opened his arms just in time to be pummeled. He chuckled and embraced his rose clad friend.
"Pansy... how are you? It's been forever," he granted and Pansy laughed softly as she pulled back.
"No, you know what's forever? How long I've been looking for you! Where were you hiding?" she asked with a quirk to her lips, painted with a pretty coral. Draco held back a laugh at her acute accuracy.
"You'd be surprised. I couldn't just go gallivanting while they were looking for Hermione... I'm not supposed to see her, you know." As opposed to Draco's idea of Pansy's reaction, she frowned.
"Looking for Hermione? What do you mean?" Draco smirked and shook his head.
"Just some miscommunication. Everything's fine now... is Uncle Marty here?" he asked, more to change conversation, and pushed her gently back toward the crowds of people whom, once they noticed him, embraced Draco with hugs and congratulations.
~*~*~*~
"Can't you do that any faster?" Madeline pushed, giving a nasty look to the stylist who was fixing Hermione's hair. To conserve time, they'd decided to do both make up and hair simultaneously... but this just caused clutter.
"You can't rush art, Ma'am," said the young girl in a thick Scottish accent, extenuated by a pop of her bubble gum.
"Mum," Hermione scolded, trying not to move too much. Madeline threw up her hands in exasperation and plopped onto the couch next to Ginny, who was sitting straight and prim, playing with the knee of her skirt as she stared at the floor with empty eyes. "Gin?" Hermione asked, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. The make up artist rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, but said nothing and continued in his work. Madeline glared.
Ginny's head snapped up at Hermione's voice and she forced a small smile.
"What's wrong?" her friend asked and Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "Gin?"
"Nothing, Mione... I was just so sure Harry and Ron would be here..." At this, Hermione's lips fell into a deep frown and the makeup artist let out a grunt of frustration. Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes, tilting her head forward.
"Look...H... whatever, bride... I'm going to need you to stop moving now. Are you comfortable with this face, or would you like to change positioning before I begin again?" huffed the man in front of her, and Hermione opened her eyes just long enough to glare at him before she heaved a heavy sigh and closed them again. With a sigh of his own, the artist again began to dust her face with color.
~*~*~*~
As Madeline had significantly higher expectations than her daughter, Hermione didn't make an appearance in the chapel until ten AM. She was ready on time... but Madeline wasn't satisfied. She made the hair stylist try three different styles before deciding on the original one. Hermione, had she not been so nervous, would have told her mother off. Right now, her thoughts were elsewhere. A certain thirty feet elsewhere.
"Hermione?" Narcissa asked from her side, and Hermione turned toward her, somewhat startled. "Ready, love?" the blonde woman asked, handing Hermione a large bouquet of flowers and tilting her head slightly. Hermione could tell she was ecstatic.
"Honestly, Narcissa... no, I'm not."
"Don't worry dear... it won't be all that bad, I promise," Narcissa assured just moments before a loud organ began to play a familiar tune. "Oh, that's my cue. You'll be fine," she said, kissed Hermione's cheek through the veil and walked the short distance to the doors, taking her husband's arm. Just ahead of them were Madeline and Lucifer, as Mr. Boyce would be accompanying his daughter.
"Easy for you to say..." Hermione mumbled to herself. "You married for love." Unexpectedly, as she said these words, Hermione felt her stomach lurch. What she'd just uttered could very well be taken to mean that she didn't love Draco. By at least some extent, she knew this was entirely untrue. Given another option, she probably wouldn't have jumped directly into a marriage, but Hermione was assured, even by herself, that she would be reduced to nothing were something to happen to him. There was no doubt that Draco was extremely important to her... Hermione immediately regretted her words.
"Princess?" asked Mr. Boyce, breaking Hermione once again from her thoughts. She smiled at her father, but her attention was averted then to Ginny, who waved before starting down the aisle. "You look beautiful, love," Hunter stated, and again, Hermione turned to him with a smile. "Excited?" She made a tiny moan.
"I don't even know, Daddy... I'm so nervous..."
"I know you've probably heard this a million times by now, but trust your dear old dad... it'll get better."
"I hope so, Daddy," Hermione said, trying as best as she could to be optimistic. Just then, a great commotion was heard from the church as all those present stood to greet their main attraction. In moments, the wedding march began to play, and Hunter held out his arm. "That's us, I think." Hermione gave a weak smile and took a deep breath, before linking her arm in her fathers and allowing him to lead her toward the doors.
For what seemed like hours, Hermione endured the torture of happy smiles, and warm nods as she marched down the center aisle, clutching her father's arm and keeping a magazine smile on her face. No matter what, Hermione would not look straight ahead. Had someone frozen time and asked her if Draco were standing at the altar, she honestly wouldn't have been able to give a positive answer. An assumption of yes, as her father seemed near tears. Instead of focusing on the task at hand, Hermione took in the scenery. It was nothing new... it had been planned and executed with her help that very morning... brown roses and petals lined the aisle, candles hung from everywhere imaginable, the ends of the pews decorated in bunches of calla lilies, and spritzes of lace and mesh along the rows and walls. It was beautiful... but old to her eyes.
After what seemed like hours, her father came to a stop. Hermione was almost startled, she had grown nearly accustomed to marching down the hall, eyes everywhere but forward. She turned to her father with innocent eyes, only to see tiny teardrops forming in the corners of his own. She gave him a weak smile and he lifted her veil, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"I love you, Mina," he whispered, then broke away to sit with her mother, who was already dabbing her eyes with a floral hanky. As Hunter sat down, she turned her head into his shoulder and commenced bawling, while he patted her back and nodded for Hermione to take the step forward needed to start the ceremony. Heart racing, Hermione turned back ahead and slowly brought her eyes from Draco's shiny shoes, to his equally polished hair. She lost herself for a moment as they made eye contact. He was beautiful.
When they'd gone to school, she'd despised the way he wore his hair... slicked back like a cue ball... but today it accented his face... crowned him like a halo. He was grinning, obviously a bit more at ease than she was. Beside him was Lucifer, dressed in a similar tux, but with a smaller boutonnière, long hair plaited with black ribbon behind his head. To Draco's right was the space she was to occupy, and further down the line stood Ginny, looking rustic and excited. Next to her, and a surprise to Hermione, was Hazel, wearing what looked like a christening gown, and seated in a lacy white stroller.
As the wedding march ended, Hermione focused her attention back on Draco, who was still smiling, and waiting patiently. A note of silence pierced the air, and Hermione swallowed her fear, stepping up to take her position. She handed her bouquet to Ginny, then turned back to her fiancé, soon to be husband. She suppressed a shudder, and spent nearly a moment pondering its cause.
The priest, an elderly man with a beard to rival Dumbledore and large bottle-cap glasses that gave him the appearance of a large insect, motioned for the congregation to be seated. Hermione, as she hadn't seen the hand gesture, was startled by this, and gasped slightly, turning her head to the crowd in a paranoiac manor. When she calmed herself and the priest began to speak, Hermione turned her attention back to Draco, who was now lifting an eyebrow. She gave him a weak smile, and he reached for her hands, as commanded by the bible-clad man. As the squat little friar droned on about vows and the sacred union of matrimony, Hermione kept her eyes on the floor, as if in prayer. Draco squeezed her hand after a few moments, and Hermione lifted her head to again meet his eyes. He was still smiling, and spoke silently, mouthing his words.
'You look beautiful,' he told her, and Hermione smiled a bit, but didn't respond. Draco grew a bit daring. From the moment he'd seen her in the entryway, he knew this wasn't a mistake. He might very well have wanted to marry her regardless of bloodlines, birthright, or family obligation. If they were just two teenagers who met at the beach... he'd have never let her go. 'I love you.' He tried, and Hermione felt a warmth course through her. He hadn't even said it out loud and still it had such an effect. Although she wasn't entirely sure of herself, Hermione figured she owed it to him. She spoke a silent 'I love you too', and watched with amusement as Draco's eyebrows shot up. She nearly laughed out loud. It didn't matter if she wasn't consciously aware of the exact truth to that statement, as she would be married in a half hour's time... to the man before her. Why shouldn't she love him? Or at least humor him...
~*~*~*~
"And... Let's see... by the... by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and..." The priest carried on, much to the relief of the wedding party and guests. They'd evidently gotten a seasoned minister, as he'd taken over an hour and a half to perform a simple ceremony, with provided vows and no special services. Just vows, rings, kiss... marriage. It couldn't possibly have taken any longer... but he paused. "And..." The old man adjusted his glasses, trying to read the tiny bible script. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Wife," she whispered, much to the amusement of the man so very close to being her husband.
"What?" barked the priest, looking up from the book and setting his bug eyes on the bride. She smiled kindly, as if he were a child.
"Man and wife," she provided, and the already enormous eyes widened.
"Right, then... I now pronounce you man and wife," he announced, and closed his bible, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Draco and Hermione, hand in hand, stared at him expectantly, but the little man was finished. He just grinned at them.
"Oh, forget it," Draco said in exasparation and leaned forward, giving Hermione a solid peck on the lips. The congregation burst into applause and Draco released Hermione's left hand, pulling her back down the aisle. As per custom, the newlyweds were pelted with rice, then chased out the chapel toward the limo that awaited him. Hermione had never had so much fun in her life... it had yet to sink in that she was now officially Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Hermione Boyce-Malfoy.
Instead, she threw caution to the wind and giggled like mad as the little twangs touched her skin. Draco seemed in a hurry to get out of that mess, and rushed her to their transportation. Like a gentleman, he opened the door, allowing Hermione to slide in. She didn't stop laughing until he was safely seated beside her and the door had closed. Draco just watched in amusement. When her spasms died down and she simply stared at him with blissful eyes, Draco lifted one arm over the back of the seat, and brought the other hand to brush a bit of rice from her nose. Hermione laughed again, and covered her face. Draco smirked deviously, and she let her hands fall into her lap.
"That was fun," Hermione admitted, "Although I was nervous as hell." Draco smiled.
"I'll have to admit to both those conclusions myself. I'm rather glad it's over, to tell you the truth." Hermione bit her lip slightly and nodded, then heaved a heavy sigh.
"Why aren't we moving?" Draco chuckled.
"Because we have to wait until everyone else gets there... that way we can make a fashionable entrance."
"Oh... right," Hermione said, but it was interrupted by a yawn. Smirking to himself, Draco pushed her shoulder gently, and Hermione gratefully accepted his suggestion, resting her head below his chin and closing her eyes. Draco replaced his arm on the back of the seat and slid down a bit, sighing.
"Hermione?" he asked, disturbing the quiet.
"Hm?"
"We're married." Hermione smiled, but didn't bother to respond. It was nearly five minutes later before she said anything.
"Draco?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you smell like furniture polish?"
~*~*~*~
A/N: I have just been informed by a person who shall remain nameless, that this story is 1) boring 2) melodramatic 3)overdone. I find this saddening, as I was not aware of this before. If you agree with Kr... I mean, this anonymous person, please let me know. I do not much care for pseudo- reviews... "Awesome! I love it!" when they don't mean a thing. I would like to know. I'm sorry if I've been boring you all this entire time...