Beta love: shealone (If you aren't reading her new stories Tying the Nott and Presque Toujours Pur, why not? You really, really should be. They are brilliant.)

Ch. 15

30 October

Hermione's Room & Draco's Room

As weak sunlight filtered through the window, Hermione's eyes flew open. Tomorrow was the big day. She was getting married just hours from now. Tonight was her hen party; she'd opted for something quiet, here at the castle. Ginny, Luna, and Daphne were coming over for a "girls' night in." Draco was going to Hogsmeade with Blaise; Theo was going to meet them there, and they had taken rooms above the Three Broomsticks for the evening. Not for the first time, Hermione thanked Godric for Daphne and her organising skills. It was amazing, really, the logistics of planning such a large wedding and reception on as short timeline. And while Hermione was fully equipped to battle evil wizards, the details of wedding were just ridiculous. But with Daphne, her list was short. She had her dresses, her flowers, and everything she needed. All that was left for her to do now was show up.

She searched for the apprehension she was certain would surface as the wedding got closer. She thought back on the past six weeks and getting to know Draco without the shadow of Voldemort over their heads. He wasn't the Draco she thought he was, or the Draco he appeared to be when he was in school back in sixth year or even third. She knew he cared about her, but she just wasn't sure how much. That was the problem with Slytherins, even when they thought they were being open and honest, they were still so reserved. If he had been a Gryffindor, this would be so much easier.

Next door, Draco slowly came awake. Tomorrow was the big day, finally. His to-do list for the wedding was complete. He had his robes with an off-white tie, and he had the rings. The stag party was tonight, but he was just getting together with Blaise and Theo. Theo. Huh. Wonder if he realised what Marietta's make-up had hidden. I hope she's changed; Salazar knows that Theo deserves better than a sneak with a father like his. Draco contemplated his best friends; they had been with him through thick and thin. While they would probably never say so, Draco knew that they would all die for one another. They would just make damn certain it was necessary first, unlike those mad Gryffindors.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione and Draco ran into each other in the hall, each returning from the bathrooms.

"Hey." Hermione looked up at him through her eyelashes. Godric's bane, why am I nervous all of a sudden? I know this wizard. And I'm a Gryffindor. To hell with this retiring miss crap. She straightened her spine and looked him full in the face. "That is to say, good morning. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing quite well, Hermione. Would you like to go to breakfast with me?" Draco responded to her sudden formality in kind.

"Sure. Absolutely. I'll meet you in your room in twenty minutes?" Hermione suggested. At his nod of ascent, they both headed to their rooms to finish their morning routines.

Hermione arrived exactly on time, coming through the adjoining door. She turned and looked back at it. "You know, I wonder what will happen about this door." She glanced over at Draco. "After the wedding, I mean."

"Yeah. Good question. It's not like the castle is asking our permission or anything."

"It's weird, isn't it? I mean, do you want to share a room?" Hermione examined the doorway very closely, trying to see if there was any indication of what was to come.

"You're taking the mickey, aren't you, Hermione?" Draco sounded incredulous. "Of course I want to share a room. I just wish we didn't have to use the community bath."

"Why would that mat —" Hermione looked up into his face with its playfully lecherous expression. "Ohh. You pervert."

"I beg your pardon? I am not a pervert." She didn't see his hands move, but they snagged her hips and pulled her forward so that she was pressed against him. "I don't think wanting to share a bath with. My. Wife," he punctuated the last words with brief kisses on her lips, "is perverted." The kisses changed into one, long, serious exploration of each other.

Hermione broke the kiss and pulled back slightly. Taking a deep breath to clear her head, she finally managed to say, "We need to get to breakfast."

"No, we don't." Draco leaned forward to capture her lips again, but she dodged and pulled out of his grasp.

"Yes, we do." Hermione was insistent. With a groan, he followed her out of the door and to the Great Hall.

7:00pm

Hermione's Room

Ginny, Luna, and Daphne all converged on Hermione's room for her spa night "hen" party. Hermione was completely unprepared for their plans for the night. She had imagined a spa night, relaxing with girlfriends. Their plans were different.

"We are going out," Ginny announced.

"But, you can't. We can't. The wedding is tomorrow." Hermione started cataloging the reasons to stay with her original plan.

"Luna and I have permission, so yes, we can. And, yes, the wedding is tomorrow. That's the whole point of a hen party — one last hurrah!" Ginny enthusiasm was overwhelming. "Now, let's see what you have to wear."

Clothes immediately came flying out the wardrobe. "Try this. No. I like this one…"

Hermione didn't even try to keep up with the instructions coming at her. While she had been friends with Ginny and Luna for years, she had never seen this side of them – the bossy, you are going to have fun if it kills us side. But Hermione recognised something else as well; they needed this night out as much as she did. It would not be very long before they were the ones getting married years before they had thought and having children in short order. So she decided to throw herself into this night, not only for her, but for them as well.

"Move." Hermione ordered, falling into her bossy mode. "You're making a wreck of things. I'll find something." Elbowing her way to the door of her wardrobe, she took in the contents. After a moment, she began flipping through her clothes with purpose, knowing exactly which dress she wanted. After only a few moments, she found the dress she had worn on her date to the Room of Requirement with Draco and held it out for inspection. "How's this?"

8:00pm

Three Broomsticks

Private Party Room

Theo toasted Draco with a shot of Ogden's finest. "To Draco, the first of us to the noose!"

"To Draco, leading the way." Blaise raised his glass.

"To the Slytherin Prince," the pair intoned together and their twin smirks forced a laugh from Draco.

They all spent the next two hours working their way through their two bottles, and Theo volunteered to go get another. He came back through the door almost immediately, sans bottle of firewhisky.

"Where's the Ogdens?" Draco asked clearly pissed. He spotted the lack of a bottle in Theo's hands and frowned, wanting to maintain his current inebriated state.

Theo smirked at him. "You need to get out there."

The sight that greeted the three Slytherins was the stuff of dreams, or maybe nightmares. The eighth year Hogwarts witches — plus Daphne, Ginny, and Luna — had cleared a space in the normally staid restaurant, and they were dancing their hearts out. The eighth year wizards were grouped around the girls, egging them on.

"Oh, shite." Draco muttered when he caught sight of Hermione, right in the middle of the witches with a crown on her head and a sash that said, "The Bride" and wearing the dress from the other night in the Room of Requirement. Draco wasn't sure if it was the memories that made his cock twitch or if it was the way her dress was riding up as she lifted her arms to the latest hit by the Weird Sisters. Actually, no, it was probably both, but mostly the way the dress was riding up.

As he looked around the increasingly crowded room, Draco decided that enough was enough. These wizards might enjoy watching at his fiancée, but he was not going to let them look without knowing that she was his. He glanced over at Blaise and saw a similar expression on his face as he stared at Parvati.

"Theo, I'm going to go dance with my fiancée. You'll be alright on your own?" While it was technically a question, Draco didn't wait for a response as he handed Theo his half empty glass and worked his way through the crowd until he was directly behind a dancing Hermione, still lost in the song.

Reaching his hands around to grasp her hips, he pulled her back into the shelter of his body. "Having fun without me, Granger?" he all but growled in her ear.

Gasping in surprise, Hermione spun around, eyes slightly unfocused. "Draco, what are you doing here?"

As the song changed to a slower tune, they wrapped their arms around each other. "I thought you were going to have a girls' night in, Hermione. I find that I'm a little jealous that you were dancing for all these people and not for me," he whispered in her ear. "Will you dance for me tomorrow night?"

Hermione giggled; the drinks that Ginny and Luna had pressed on her earlier had loosened her inhibitions. "Of course I'll dance for you, Draco." She leaned up and kissed him full on the lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. As they sank into the kiss, the hoots and whistles from their friends faded into the background. Draco's hands slid down her back to cup her arse and pull her even closer.

"You are so beautiful, Hermione. I feel like we are fated."

The blinding light from a camera flash penetrated their lust-filled haze. "Oh, shite," Draco muttered. "We need to stop." He moved his hands up her back to a more respectable place at the base of her spine and loosened his grip, but kept his forehead pressed to hers, so that their breath mingled, making Hermione a little more light-headed.

Hermione searched his gaze. "Do you really? Think we're fated?"

"How can you doubt it?" he asked and, with a pop, disapparated them to the private room, away from prying eyes.

Hermione returned an hour later, looking a bit more disheveled, but much more relaxed.

Halloween Morning

Hogwarts

Draco and Hermione woke the next morning and availed themselves of Hangover Potions and Invigoration draughts to get ready for the busy day and met up in the Great Hall. Titters filled the room as the owls delivered the mail. The Daily Prophet had struck again:

LOVE MATCH AFTER ALL?

Below it was a photo of Draco and Hermione dancing the previous night and the start of a very serious-looking kiss. The article included all the details of the wedding that evening and, of course, speculated on the exact nature of the relationship between the bride and the groom.

Meanwhile

Azkaban Prison

Lucius Malfoy methodically shredded the newspaper after seeing the headline and the photo of his only son, his heir, publicly groping that Mudblood. This was not to be borne. He accessed his small store of parchment to compose a letter. This one needed to be carefully worded in order to pass the censors. He would send it with the evening post.

Halloween Afternoon

Hogwarts

Hermione sat in a small, but comfortable room on the first floor, normally used as a reception area for visitors. She tried to contain her nerves knowing that Narcissa was coming in to talk with her. She fought to keep the image of her memory of Narcissa at the Manor out of her mind; that expressionless face, watching as Bellatrix tortured her.

The door opened almost silently, and the elegant blonde stepped in. The witches took a moment to size each other up. Hermione could see the wear that Azkaban — and perhaps the year under Voldemort's thumb as well — had caused the older witch. Still beautiful and sophisticated, Narcissa had a few more wrinkles than one might expect, and there were strands of silver shot through her hair but she wore the signs of aging well.

Narcissa appraised the witch that she was quite convinced was the love of her son's life. Pretty — but not perfect — curly, light brown hair; and open, honest eyes. But the girl was powerful. Narcissa could almost feel the magic humming in her veins, Muggle-born or not. A pity about her bad blood. But, if she has the power to make Draco happy, Narcissa thought, I'll accept her accept her. Perhaps not with open arms, but with graciousness befitting one born of my station.

Hermione took the lead, stretching out her hand, "Mrs. Malfoy, it is very nice to see you today. I hope that you are doing well."

Narcissa briefly touched hands with Hermione. "Thank you, Miss Granger. It is very nice to see you as well, under . . . happier circumstances."

Hermione gestured to the open chair and tea service. "Call me Hermione. Please, would you sit? Perhaps have a cup of tea?" she asked as she poured, trying to think of a conversation starter. What do I say? This is so bloody awkward. How was Azkaban? Is your husband really a nutter? Your son is hot? Instead, she offered Narcissa her tea and asked, "Milk, sugar?"

"Yes, please, just a splash of milk and a spoon of sugar."

They sat in awkward silence for a what felt like hours. Hermione cleared her throat and offered, "So, are you enjoying being home?"

Narcissa looked amused at the question. "But of course. Azkaban was far from comfortable, as you can well imagine. However, I'd rather talk about something more pleasant. Draco tells me that you have been getting along well. He appears to be looking forward to the wedding."

Hermione's lips tilted up in a brief, small smile. "He's quite different that I thought he would be. He's been everything I could have hoped for, given the circumstances," she said, deciding that relaying Draco's ability to make her scream with pleasure was probably not something she needed to tell her future mother-in-law. It certainly wasn't a conversation she wanted to have. Ever.

Narcissa's blank expression dropped momentarily and Hermione saw the proud mother behind the facade. "He is quite a young man; I'm so proud of him," the blonde said and set her tea cup and saucer on the table. "But tell me about the wedding and your gown. Draco gave me the bare minimum of details."

It was on that note that Hermione spent the afternoon getting to know her future mother-in-law.

Early Evening

Eighth Hall

The witches banished the wizards to their respective Houses to get ready while they monopolised the Eighth Hall to get ready for the wedding.

Hermione stood before a conjured mirror in the common room, unable to believe the witch reflecting back was her. She wore her hair down, curls smoothed into manageable waves that gently touched the dupioni silk, off-white dress. The strapless, sweetheart, ruched bodice flowed into a full ballroom skirt with a short train. The only ornamentation on the dress was a diamond-encrusted waistband. Around her neck and in her ears, she wore the sapphires that Draco had given her. She looked, and felt, like a princess.

Her attention caught on the white scar on her left forearm. She was still looking at it when Ginny drew her attention. "Hey, what's on your mind?" the redhead asked, seeing Hermione's concerned expression.

She looked up at her friend, uncertain. "Should I cover it up? Glamour it?"

Her maid of honour raised her eyebrows. "That's up to you, Hermione." She paused. "But that scar does not define you. It's just bullshite. And if people want to talk, I say let them."

"No, you're right. It doesn't define me. But it's part of me and I think I'll let everyone see it." It was exactly what she had thought herself, but questioned momentarily.

Their conversation was interrupted by Daphne calling Ginny away for an errand. She returned only moments later with a small box in her and stood next to Hermione in the mirror. The navy blue, floor length dress had a slight train, but the slim cut flattered Ginny's svelte figure. The cap sleeves were matching navy lace and the open back of the dress was the perfect complement for both of Hermione's dresses.

"You look . . . perfect," Ginny breathed the words. "Draco was just here. He asked me to give this to you." She held out a narrow jewelry box tied with entwined gold and silver ribbons.

Hermione held the box for just a moment, pondering the meaning of the gold and silver ribbons, before untying them to reveal a beautiful bracelet that complemented her necklace, earrings, and engagement ring. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached out to stroke the sparkling sapphires and diamonds.

The gasp from Ginny brought her out of her reverie. "Merlin, that is gorgeous, Hermione. You're going to be a princess going down the aisle." She reached over and pulled the bracelet from its case to secure it around Hermione's wrist. "You just need a tiara."

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head with a slightly panicked expression on her face. "No, don't say that. Draco will have one made. Please don't say that. I can't even imagine where I'll wear these again." She looked back in the mirror. "I can't even believe this is me," she said, waving her hand towards the reflection in the mirror. "Ginny, I'm getting married."

"Are you nervous?"

"Of being married? Or of the wedding?" Hermione wasn't sure which Ginny meant.

"Either? Both?"

Hermione took a few moments to consider her answer. What were the butterflies for? "It's a lot of people, Ginny. I think I would have rather had a smaller wedding. But," she paused again, "I'm excited to marry Draco," she said, sounding surprised at her own realisation.

Ginny grinned. "Well then, I guess it's time to get this show on the road."

Early Evening

Slytherin House

Errand to the Eighth Hall complete, Draco stared into the mirror and made a final adjustment to his tie. He then checked his diamond cufflinks and, after giving his reflection a nod, he spun on his heel, robes flaring behind him in a dramatic fashion the likes of which Hogwarts had not seen since the days of the late, great Severus Snape.

He met Blaise in the Slytherin common room and from there moved to the Great Hall to wait for the ceremony to start. Seven o'clock could not come soon enough to suit him.

6:55pm

In Front of the Great Hall

Hermione stood with Harry before the closed doors of the Great Hall, her hand looped in his arm, taking deep breaths to calm herself knowing that beyond the doors lay her future.

"I'll get you out of here, you know. You don't have to go through with this," Harry offered with a deadly serious tone. "We'll give up our magic or go to the continent. Ron will come with us."

Before Hermione could say anything, Ron slipped out of the doors, holding them open a fraction of an inch past his own large frame to prevent guests on the other side — most notably the impatient reporters — from catching a glimpse at the bride before the big reveal. It was quite a feat for a person of his size, but Hermione could tell he was determined. "Bloody well right, I will," he said and leaned down to kiss Hermione on the forehead. "So, are we leaving then?"

Hermione smiled at her best friends. "No, of course not. Just last-minute nerves — so many people in there. But you both know that." She cupped the side of Harry's face and then Ron's. "And I don't think either of you actually want out of your marriages either." She looked at each of them in turn as they blushed and averted her gaze. "No. I didn't think so," she said with a smile. "And surprisingly I don't either."

Ron heaved a sigh of relief. "No, I don't. But I don't want you unhappy." He returned her gesture, cupping her cheek in his hand. "You look amazing, Hermione," he said and then hugged her. "And if the ferret hurts you, you'll tell me, and I'll kill him, yeah?" After a final squeeze, he released her and slipped back in the Great Hall.

"You're sure?" Harry asked one last time before they entered the Great Hall.

"I'm sure," she said and looked up as Daphne arrived with the piper and Ginny.

"Alright, Hermione, Harry," Daphne said, reaching up to adjust her fiance's collar, "you know the drill — been to enough weddings over the years, right? Ginny is going to lead off. When she gets to the end of the aisle, the piper will take over. When I give the signal, the doors will open, and you will follow him. I'm going to fix your train now, so don't get it tangled up," Daphne ordered, using a commanding tone. "Do you have questions?" At their negative nods, she softened. "You look lovely, Hermione. Draco isn't going to know what hit him."

6:55pm

At the end of the aisle in the Great Hall

The Great Hall was filled to capacity. Draco had never seen this many people in one place at once. Reporters lined the walls, Quick Quills at the ready, and Draco spotted Rita Skeeter looking especially lurid in a chartreuse and magenta dress. He smirked at the sour look on her face.

Blaise, looking impassive as always, leaned over and muttered, "Nervous, Drake?"

"No, but you're up next. Better ask yourself that question," he said as he saw Weasley slip back into the Great Hall and make his way up the side aisle to sit beside Tracey on the bride's side.

He breathed sigh of relief. If the Weasel is coming back in, then Hermione will follow. I bet they were offering her a chance to skip out.

Kingsley came to stand beside Draco, distracting him from thoughts of murdering the Dunderhead Duo and kidnapping Hermione if necessary. The band began to play a slow tune.

Here we go, he thought, and it's about damn time.