A/N: I don't own HP or the HP verse, nor am I profitting in any monetary way from this little story.
Beta adoration: Sheya Lonnie, whose stories are, in a word, wonderful.
Ch. 16
The restrained sounds of music filtered through the doors and Ginny slipped in through the narrow opening and to begin her slow, graceful walk to the end of the aisle. Molly Weasley, sitting at the front of the room, blotted tears as she waited for Hermione to enter.
Arriving at the dais, Ginny turned around, acting as the signal for the piper to begin the processional. As he reached the halfway mark, Daphne opened the doors with a wave of her wand, and Hermione and Harry stepped into the Great Hall.
Draco watched as the congregation rose in unison, his lips twitching up in a genuine smile. Here was the Hermione he saw; now the rest of the Wizarding world could see her as well. Beautiful and powerful; there was nothing — absolutely nothing! — dirty about her. As she drew close, he broke with tradition and held out his hand to her. Transferring her bouquet to her hand that was draped through Harry's arm, she accepted Draco's open palm, smiling when he squeezed hers and returned the gestured before letting him go to retrieve her flowers.
Draco silently mouthed, "You look beautiful," to her, and she beamed up at him in reply.
Kingsley began the ceremony with the universal, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . ." Hermione had always enjoyed that Wizarding marriage ceremonies were similar to Muggle ones, except the bonding ceremony at the end, different even from Wizarding ceremonies she had attended because of the unitatas sponsus ritual. "Who brings this woman to be married?"
Hermione and Harry had discussed the answer to this question and settled on an answer they felt most appropriate. "Her family and friends." Harry said and then released his best friend, kissed her on the cheek, and made his way to sit with the Weasleys in the front row. Molly had given up trying to contain her tears and sat continually blotting her eyes; Arthur simply hugged her to him with one arm.
Hermione handed off her rose and blue thistle bouquet to Ginny and turned to Draco. They linked their hands together and concentrated on one another as the familiar words of the marriage ceremony flowed over them, neither paying much attention as Kingsley spoke, both too caught up in the surprising joy of the moment.
The Minister for Magic drew the charmed, jeweled blade from his robes with a flourish and handed it, hilt first, to Draco. "And now, draw forth the blood from your wife's body to be mingled with yours and that of your House."
Draco drew a thin line diagonally down Hermione's left palm, then returned the blade to Kingsley who repeated the ritual words with Hermione. She drew a corresponding cut on Draco's left hand, then gave the blade to the Minister who restored it to its place beneath his robes. "Mix the essence of your bodies and your Houses," he instructed the young couple.
Taking deep breaths, Draco and Hermione gathered their courage and pressed their palms together, nervously waiting for the bonding. A white light emanated from their joined hands, wrapping around them and binding them together with what looked to be magical, smoky ropes. One tendril of light broke away and wrapped itself around their ring fingers. They both hissed at the sharp pain as they felt a magical tattoo etch itself there upon the tender skin.
Draco, in particular, felt something else as well. The sharp pain that briefly stung along the finger of his left hand traveled up and began throbbing through his left forearm, concentrating on the Dark Mark. He forcibly schooled his features. After only a minute or two, the magical cords pulsed brightly before being absorbed into their bodies.
After the ropes disappeared, Kingsley smiled and said, "You may kiss your bride."
Draco put the pain in his arm out of his mind, too focused on the task at hand. He leaned down to kiss Hermione, his wife. Knowing that the assemblage expected a chaste peck, Draco grinned as he purposefully decided that he wasn't going to oblige them. Their lips met and held and, without warning, he wrapped his arms around her and pushed his tongue between her lips to plunder inside. After a brief whimper, Hermione fell into the kiss, returning his ardour.
Only the Minister clearing his throat rather loudly penetrated their mutual fascination with each other.
Their lips eventually pulled apart and they stared at one another, still caught in one another's embrace. Before she realised what she was doing, Hermione mouthed, "I love you," and as soon as she did, her eyes widened in shock.
A blindingly joyful smile lit up Draco's face and he whispered her ear, "And I love you too." After a final squeeze, he released her but held tight to her hand, cherishing the look of relief she had on her face at his declaration.
Kingsley broke the spell between them when he announced, "I am pleased to present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy!"
As Hermione retrieved her bouquet from Ginny, the piper began the recessional, and they followed him down the aisle. Applause followed in the wake of the smiling couple.
…...
After the Ceremony
Dressing Area
"Did you mean it?" Draco looked at Hermione, suddenly unsure of himself. The words had been said at such an opportune moment, unplanned, unrehearsed, and he couldn't help but wonder if her Gryffindor recklessness had caused her to say them without thinking, without feeling. He'd held back since the Marriage Sorting, schooled his features, fought with words as he struggled to not reveal the depth of his affection for the witch. But here . . . now . . . she'd opened him up so easily with her own confession and he was trying desperately to hide how terrified he was that he would need to hide it all away again if she admitted that it had all been accidental.
Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes, I did."
"Good." Draco said with relief as he stared at his new bride. "Do you think they would miss us if we skipped the reception?" he asked eying the way her dress fit her just so nicely, a part of him wondering how easily the fabric would tear beneath his hands.
"Yes, they would, Drake." Daphne's crisp voice said, interrupting the moment. "Either go talk to Blaise outside or stand over there." She waved her hand to the other side of the room. "I need to get Hermione dressed."
Draco moved to the other side of the room, trying to ignore the low level of desire humming through his veins, but he could tell it was going to build, and quickly. Hermione stretched out her arms as Daphne began manipulating the gown, and he saw the flash of the white scar, shocked by the sight of it. Merlin, she was strong. She didn't even glamour the scar, she wore it for all to see, he thought as the vision of the word lingered in his gaze. He wished he was strong like her, to be able and willing to show the world what she'd gone through was nothing, if not, thought reminded him of the pain he felt during the ceremony.
As quickly and discreetly as possible, he unfastened his cufflink and pulled up the sleeve to inspect the Dark Mark on his arm. That morning, the physical reminder of his youthful mistake had been a dark charcoal gray, having barely faded from the deep black it had been when Voldemort branded him. The Mark, the stain upon his skin and soul was now faded by at least half, closer to a light-medium gray, a very obvious difference to him, considering he spent a great amount of time glaring at it each day when dressing. Unsure of exactly what he was seeing, Draco's shaking fingers of his right hand hovered over the old tattoo, touching it with nervous anticipation as though it would blacken again if he blinked too fast. When it didn't, he let out a slow breath and turned to look up as Hermione was being zipped into a beautiful dress with a low cut back. Her eyes met his across the room, and the look in them had his body aching to touch her.
A quick frown crossed her face as she realised that his sleeve was up. Noting her expression, he quickly straightened his sleeve and reattached his cuff link, making a plan to deal with the morphing Dark Mark some other time.
Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "Draco, what's wrong?" she asked as Daphne slipped out of the room to make sure all was in order.
He glanced down at his arm. "Nothing's wrong, just different." He shrugged, hoping to change the subject.
"Let me see it," Hermione ordered.
Draco paused and debated his next move, and then he sighed knowing that she wasn't the type to just let this go. He unfastened the cufflink again and showed her the faded Dark Mark.
"Oh Merlin, Draco," she gasped. "When did that happen?" she asked, having seen his arm the night before and remembering that the Mark had been much darker then.
He shrugged. "During the ceremony, when we mixed our blood and when we were tattooed; I felt it burning then. Not as bad as when the Dark —" he paused at her reproving look, "when Voldemort did it, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch."
Hermione reached out and touched the still slightly throbbing Mark; her fingers a soothing balm. "It's so faded now," she whispered in amazement. "I wonder if the magic in the unitatas sponsus will allow this kind of bond to exist with someone else."
"Hermione, I don't care why it has started disappearing; I'm just glad it has. I hate this ugly fucking thing." He reached out to cup his hand behind her head and draw her close, kissing her, long and deep, as though she were the reason the Mark was disappearing and he needed to show gratitude. When he drew a moan from his new wife, he pulled back just a fraction and looked directly in her eyes. "I don't think I want to stay long at this bloody reception." His eyes dropped down to her new dress. "And I didn't think you could be more beautiful than you were in the ceremony, but I was wrong."
Hermione took a few steps back and met Draco's heated gaze again. "Do you like it?" She turned around to show him the off-white, lace dress with a v-neck and deep cut back. The dress lightly hugged her figure down to just below her hips, where it fell in soft folds to the floor, with a short train behind her.
His slow smile was the only answer she needed but he gave her verbal confirmation regardless. "Oh, I do," he said with a smirk and then offered her his arm. "Shall we?" They turned in unison and headed for the door and the reception.
Inside the Great Hall, the House tables had magically reappeared with hors d'oeuvres and drinks. The dais was shrouded and silenced as the Weird Sisters began to set up for the informal dancing later in the evening. In the meantime, the quartet from the ceremony provided soft musical accompaniment suitable for conversation. The reporters had been dismissed after the wedding with promises of pictures from the reception in the morning. Professor McGonagall had personally ensured that Rita Skeeter took the first Portkey out of Hogwarts.
Of all the decorations, the cake attracted the most attention as it rested resplendent in the corner, a full six layers high, alternating between Draco and Hermione's favorite flavors: vanilla and carrot. The icing was the same color as Hermione's dresses and accented with gold leaf.
At a pre-arranged, discreet signal, Kingsley performed the Sonorus Charm. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the bridal party."
The doors swept open as he introduced each of them in turn.
"Mother of the groom, Narcissa Malfoy." Narcissa glided in, elegant in a green dress with a beautiful matching lace overlay and small train. Her face showed only beautiful, purebred calm and satisfaction.
"Harry Potter and his lovely fiancée, Daphne Greengrass." Harry was all smiles when he entered with the wedding planner on his arm. She looked serene, with a small smile for the crowd.
"Best Man, Blaise Zabini and his beautiful fiancée Parvati Patil." Blaise had assumed his superior air, but a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth; Parvati's exuberant expression was excited enough for the both of them.
"Maid of Honour, Ginevra Weasley with her fiancé Michael Corner." Ginny and Michael were the picture of a happy couple as well, with Ginny practically floating in on his arm.
"And finally, your bride and groom, Draco and Hermione Malfoy." Gasps followed the couple's entry. In addition to the genuine smile on Draco's face, Hermione looked radiant. And, true to Liliana's prediction, Hermione's second dress caused a sensation. Draco swept his bride into his arms immediately for the first dance as the quartet struck up a familiar waltz, one they'd all learned in their fourth year for the Yule Ball.
He had not realised the advantage of her new dress until the moment he placed his palm on her back to lead her into the dance. The low cut allowed him to touch the bare flesh of her back and he felt the sizzle on his skin, moving up through the faded Dark Mark on his arm, and down to his cock. Hermione shivered in response.
His eyes darkened and when he spoke it was for her ears only. "Do you feel it, Hermione?"
"I do," she said in a breathy voice.
He pulled her even closer. "We leave at midnight, love. Your bracelet is our Portkey, so be prepared."
"Did you mean it, Draco?" she asked and he knew exactly to what she referred, when he had returned her sentiment during the ceremony. Her Gryffindor courage had its limits and she needed the same reassurance he had after the ceremony, this vulnerability endearing her even further to her new husband.
His smile was gentle as he drew her even closer to him, his cheek brushing hers as he whispered in her ear. "More than you will ever know, Hermione."
When the strains of the first waltz died out, they took a bow for the applauding crowd. Almost immediately, the quartet launched into another dance, and this time the wedding party joined Draco and Hermione on the floor, with Kingsley partnering Narcissa. Mid-way through, Ron and Tracey signaled the opening of the dance floor by joining the revolving couples. Quickly following them was the entirety of the Weasley family. The dancing continued for several songs, but Draco and Hermione left the floor after the second to greet their guests for until the cake cutting ceremony.
Draco had already given his mother her gift that afternoon; she was going to be allowed to visit other Malfoy properties in Britain for the duration of her house arrest. But that wasn't a gift that he could rightly give her in front of hundreds of people, and since Hermione's mother and father weren't even there, they were going to skip that tradition of presenting presents to their parents. The toasts, however, could not be avoided.
Harry's was predictably sincere but brief. "Errr, I'm rubbish at these public speaking things." He cleared his throat. "But Hermione, you are the sister of my heart, and I've seen you grow close to Draco," he said and Draco's eyebrows rose at Harry's unusual use of his first name, "over the last few weeks. So, we all wish you the best. We love you." Harry raised his glass. "To the Bride and Groom."
"To the Bride and Groom," the guests chorused back and toasted Hermione and Draco.
After Ginny and Blaise gave toasts, much to Hermione's surprise, Ron stepped forward. "Hermione, I'll admit to being surprised when the Sorting Hat matched you with Mal . . . err . . . Draco." Ron said, looking a bit sheepish at the slip-up. "But, it didn't take long to realise that you two are a perfect couple. And if he doesn't continue to make you happy, then you just let me know, yeah? We'll —" he said and gestured to himself and Harry, "— take care of it. Because you deserve to be happy, Hermione. And he'll make you happy." Ron quirked an eyebrow at Draco. "Right, Malfoy?"
Draco smirked at Ron, but nodded in the affirmative.
"So, welcome to our family, Draco," Ron said and Draco's already pale skin drained of all remaining colour at the prospect of being an honourary Weasley. "To the bride and groom!"
The room chorused back, "To the bride and groom!"
Draco leaned over, kissed the side of Hermione's head, and spoke for her ears alone. "I think that last bit was a threat, Hermione."
"Which part? The one where they will take of it if you make me unhappy or the welcome to the family?" she asked, unable to resist teasing him.
"Please, as if the Weasel — umph," Draco grunted when his witch elbowed him in the belly and he quickly tried to correct himself, "As if—" he began again but didn't get a chance to finish his whispered thought as Kingsley began his toast.
…...
Meanwhile
Somewhere in the wilds of Ireland
The dirty and unkempt man with yellowing teeth reached up to get the letter from the nondescript barn owl. He recognized the handwriting on the front. What could be so important that Lucius Malfoy would risk further imprisonment by writing to me?
Antonin Dolohov read the coded letter and grinned. "Of course I'll help you, old friend. Can't have Mudbloods thinking they are equal to us, now can we?"
He pulled a piece of parchment from his small collection. Just because he was willing to help Lucius, that did not mean that assistance did not come at a price. This is my chance to get out of this hellhole for good.
…...
Back at the Reception
Hogwarts Great Hall
After the cake-cutting, Hermione decided to break from tradition and present her bouquet to someone as opposed throwing it to her single friends. The tradition was hardly pertinent anyway as Hermione knew exactly who was getting married next: Parvati.
Draco pulled his wand from a wand pocket tucked in his robes, pointed it at Hermione, and muttered, "Sonorus," and held it discreetly as Hermione began her speech.
"First, I would like to thank you all for coming to our wedding this evening to share in our happiness." She turned slightly towards Draco, reached out her free hand, the other holding her bouquet, and squeezed his, just briefly. Even Pansy Parkinson, there on the arm of Seamus Finnigan, smiled at Hermione's obvious affection for her new husband. "And while I know it is traditional that I throw my bouquet to see who is the next bride, I believe we have a pretty good idea who that will be." Scattered laughter filled the room, and Blaise and Parvati laughed the loudest of them all. "So, instead, I would like to present my bouquet to someone who has been an inspiration for most of my childhood; she has been a loyal wife and mother, a strong soldier, a rock and an inspiration to so many of us. Molly Weasley, will you please accept my bouquet as a symbol and token of my deep and abiding affection for you?"
Draco quickly ended the Sonorous Charm as Mrs. Weasley came forward to accept the roses and thistles. He could not hear the whispered conversation as the witches tightly hugged, but the tears in both their eyes looked to be tears of joy rather than pain. He really couldn't bring himself to mind that there would be no garter toss; he'd always found the ritual funny, but a bit gauche. He sipped his drink and glanced around the room, spotting his mother in conversation. While her face gave nothing away, Draco could see by the set of his mother's shoulders that she was unhappy.
"It really is wonderful to see you here tonight, Narcissa. That dress is just lovely." Posy Parkinson smiled at Draco's mother. "Is that from last year's collection from Madam Malkin? That green is just your colour."
Narcissa smiled tightly. "Liliana's custom collection, made just for today, actually."
Posy tried again to jab at Narcissa. "Draco looks so handsome. Such a shame about her. He deserves so much more."
"I afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Posy. Hermione is a lovely young witch, and she will be a wonderful addition to the Malfoy family." She paused a beat. "And who is Pansy engaged to?"
Posy's eyes flashed with venom as the verbal jab hit home. While Seamus was a half-blood who had fought with Harry Potter in the war, he was far from a member of the Golden Trio, Muggle-born though Hermione was.
Narcissa continued, "And I would hate for dear Hermione to feel unwelcome in our circle of friends. Wouldn't you, dear, dear Posy? Now, when will your annual summer party be this year? It would be a shame for my garden party to fall on the same day," she said with a smile that was pure Slytherin; absolute viper.
Posy blanched at the implicit threat. "Oh, I'm sure she is a lovely young lady. Perhaps I'll have Pansy owl her. They can have tea."
"You do that little thing, Posy. Thank you so much for coming." Narcissa reached out and pressed hands with the other witch. "It was just lovely catching up with you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe the newlyweds are preparing to leave, and I want say goodbye." The blonde turned and swept away, her short train flowing out behind her.
...
A/N: Thank you to all my lovely, beautiful reviewers. I wish all blessings upon you all. (((HUGS)))