Another chapter, seeing as I really owe y'all one after that long wait! Yay!

Chapter Twenty Three

The days of the week preceding our wedding seemed shorter than normal days were supposed to be. Rather than being apprehensive, as I've heard most brides become, I only grew more eager to get it over with. Well, the ceremony, that is- the marriage part itself, I was sure, would be amazing. There was really nothing more appealing than a lifetime with Antonin.

My mother woke me on the morning of the wedding, in many ways just as excited as I was.

It seemed to take hours and hours to get ready. With help from Witch Bridal Magazine, my mother transformed me from my usual rather plain self into a gorgeous, dark-haired beauty that stared back at me from the mirror, a look of disbelief across her pale face.

She'd just finished pinning my hair up elegantly when Antonin's mother entered and looked me over scathingly before smoothly informing my mother, "Your husband was looking for you."

"Oh!" Lowering her voice, my mother whispered, "I'll be right back, 'Lecto," and then disappeared quickly; I watched her leave before allowing my eyes to snap back onto the woman darkly looming over me.

Her dress was so dark a green it might as well have been black, and I thought it better suited for a funeral than a wedding, but wisely didn't mention it. Voice dripping with acid, she drawled, "You know I don't think you are worthy to marry my son, yes?"

Nodding, I answered boldly, "That's not going to change anything."

A cruel smile twisted her lips. "Perhaps that's what you think."

"... What?" I quickly questioned, a tiny bit startled.

She chuckled darkly and was about to elaborate when the sound of footsteps came from the hall. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed into my ear, "You'd better pray I don't say anything when they ask if there are any objections."

My mother entered obliviously, looking a bit confused, as Antonin's mother swept out of the room without another word. "I don't know where your father's gotten to, but I suppose he'll come find me if he needs," my mum babbled, not attuned to the fact that I was holding back tears. In a moment of uncharacteristic perceptiveness, though, she paused, her eyes scanning my face. "Is something wrong, Alecto?"

Shaking my head vehemently, I quickly lied, "I'm just... happy, is all. Excited."

Her knowing smile made me feel almost guilty for lying, but my mother didn't need to know the truth.

"Yes, well, we'd best be going soon, you know," she advised. "Your father's probably gone on ahead, and you don't want to be late."

A girlish smile crossed her face, and suddenly the worn, tired look I'd come to accept as my mother's usual expression had been replaced with something much brighter that made her look years younger; I supposed that had her marriage to my father been better, it may have been the countenance I'd grown accustomed to over the course of my life.

I hugged her affectionately, something I couldn't remember doing even as a small child. "Alright, mum."

The moments ticked by, too slowly and too quickly all at once. It was like I wasn't entirely conscious of my actions up to the point where I raised my eyes to see Antonin beaming at me from in front of the altar. The only thing that kept me from sprinting down the aisle toward him then was my father's arm holding mine.

If I'd ever thought that my love was gorgeous, that thought was suddenly intensified a million times; my eyes didn't leave his face all through our vows. Everything that was going on- the man from the Daily Prophet clicking pictures from the front row, Antonin's mother glaring murderously at me but blissfully silent, my mother sobbing happily into her handkerchief- was drowned out by the fact that within seconds, he was going to be mine, bound by magic and by law, forever.

My state of ecstatic numbness remained all through the reception, which passed in a blur of dances and champagne and smiling faces and well-wishing. Antonin hardly let go of my hand through the whole evening, until the point where I had to go change into something more suitable for travel. He hadn't told me where we were going for our honeymoon, but he promised I would love it and kissed my nose whenever I asked, dodging the question.

It seemed like way too long before I was dressed in a slinky little periwinkle number that my mother had chosen. My only desire was to return to his side as my mother continued to pester me about what I'd packed in my suitcase; I dismissively assured her I'd be fine and apparated to his house in Hogsmeade, which we would be leaving from.

---

"Ally," he grinned, breathlessly, when I entered his parlour. His eyes were shining with some sort of emotion, and he curled one hand behind my head and pulled me into a kiss that was far more insistent than the one that had sealed our marriage earlier in the day. "You're absolutely radiant, darling."

A shy smile crept across my face, but I wasn't really sure what to say. Arms wrapping around my waist, he whispered into my ear, "We ought to go... our Portkey's set to leave pretty soon."

Nodding, I pressed one more short kiss to his mouth. "Where are we going?"

He let go of me and shrank my luggage down for me, slipping it into the front pocket of his shirt.

"Would it kill you to just tell me?" I prodded, but he just shook his head.

"You'll find out in all of five minutes, Mrs. Dolohov." I was a tad taken aback at the name, but I knew I could get used to it.

Five minutes too long, I wanted to reply, but instead I rolled my eyes and queried, "So... where's the Portkey?"

With a soft laugh, he slipped his fingers through mine. "The back yard, love. Come on."

I'd been at his- now our- house a few times over the summer, but never in the yard. The sun was setting over the grassy lawn, which was surrounded by a white picket fence and nothing too remarkable. There was a little patio, but it lacked any furniture; I supposed that Antonin seldom travelled out there, so there really hadn't been a point.

"Here," he said softly, rummaging through the pocket of his pants and producing a rather old looking piece of paper. "Quickly, Ally."

My fingers brushed against the parchment just in time. The yard spun out of view and I closed my eyes; I'd never enjoyed travel by Portkey when I could help it. I stumbled into Antonin moments later, having presumably arrived at our destination. Though my head was spinning and my stomach a bit unsettled, I felt my eyes widening as I pulled back and got a good look around myself.

"Oh, Merlin," I whispered, astonished, turning to look at my husband. He only grinned in return, seeming quite self-satisfied.

"Welcome to Zamok Krasivaya, love," he beamed, gesturing around the incredible hall that surrounded us. "It's been in my family for generations."

"What is this place?" I breathed.

The room we stood in- which had so many doors I knew it was only one of many grand halls in the building- could easily have swallowed five of my bedroom at home. The whole place was draped in rich colours, with expensive looking art lining the walls, covering the ceiling, and even etched into the doors and floor. The glinting of gold caught my eye whenever I turned my head; it took me a moment to adjust to the elaborate furnishings.

"It's where my family lived before some of them immigrated to England," he answered. "Come on, I'll show you the master suite."

I followed him for what seemed like hours, turning down many hallways and climbing many stairwells until I was sure I would never be able to navigate the way out of the castle without him. The entire place was decorated in much the same way as the entry hall, though the temperature grew cooler as we climbed. Finally, he pushed an elaborately carved door open, gesturing for me to go in before him.

It was a room that any self-respecting Slytherin would have considered well-decorated. Everything seemed to be covered in the same iridescent dark green, though the furniture was black and trimmed in silver. Remembering that he had been the first in his family not to attend Durmstrang, I wondered at this until he answered my thoughts, "I had the furnishings updated in here. I hope you'll find it accommodating."

Gesturing to a door on the far side of the room, he added, "The bathroom's been modernized a bit, as well. I hope you don't mind the green, I thought it might make it feel a bit more... homey to you."

I nodded, and he smiled gently. "Do you need anything, love?"

"No," I answered softly, glancing at the empty fireplace that took up a large portion of the wall opposite- which was really saying something, considering the considerable size of the wall.

"I'm going to go let the house elves know we've arrived, then." He seemed to understand the fact that my thoughts were currently scattered, and I needed a moment to myself to re-focus. I'd had a very long day, after all. "I'll be back in a minute, alright?"

Again, I nodded, smiling at him, and then occupied myself by observing the details of the room more closely. The canopy bed was large, and yet was dwarfed in the spacious suite. There was a massive wardrobe standing next to the large window, through which I could only see a sliver of the moon in the night sky. And the walls were covered in narrow panels, twice as tall as I was, into which were carved what I recognized as fairy tales from my childhood.

Moving to take a closer look, I wondered how long the stories had truly been around; this castle must have been at least a couple centuries old, and the woodwork was probably equally as antiquated.

"This is one of the oldest buildings in Russia, you know," a voice stated from behind, surprising me.

Antonin's hand caught mine before I could run my fingers over the dark paneling on the wall. "And, seeing as it's been uninhabited since my great uncle Demetri died, I figured it would be a good place to, ah..." spinning me around, he pulled me against himself, tilting his head so that his face as barely an inch above my own. "Spend time together. And of course there's always the Wizarding district in Moscow we can visit, if you want."

At the moment, though, there was only one thing I wanted, and it certainly wasn't a visit to a city. I pressed my lips against his with some insistence by means of answer, and he, realising exactly what I was trying to communicate, pulled me closer willingly, one hand trailing to the zipper of my dress.

Mmm steamy, right? Haha. Next chapter coming soon- and sorry I rushed the wedding. It was just awkward for me, I dunno. Review? I think you should.