Chapter 7
Hermione and Draco were rudely awoken from their sleep by the door bursting open.
"Both of you have a lot of explaining to do!"
Startled into a sitting position, they looked groggily at a furious Narcissa Malfoy, who had the day's Daily Prophet in her hands. Staring back at them were their own faces, smiling and waving from the front page. Behind them stood a smug Minister for Magic. The headline screamed, Marriage Act Triumph! Hermione groaned and buried her head against her knees.
"I nearly scalded myself with my tea when this was delivered. I've also received a slew of congratulatory letters, one from the Minister himself, and very smug he sounded too! I have never been so furious and disappointed in my entire life! How could you do this to me, Draco?"
"I'm sorry, Mummy! I - we - "
"Even calling me 'Mummy' is not getting you out of trouble, young man! You did not give me one hint that you were serious about anyone, and now you've gone and gotten married to someone to whom I was only properly introduced last night! I don't care to discuss the fact that you did not have a proper Bonding ceremony. And judging from this photograph, you did not even have proper witnesses! All of your friends were there at the Ball last night! You could have asked any one of them! And you, Ms. Granger, how could you be so unscrupulous? I've always thought, in spite of your upbringing, that you had better sense and stricter morals than to behave in such an outrageous fashion! When Draco first told me that he had chosen to be one of your suitors, I rejoiced that finally, there would be someone to help him regain the family honour! I am extremely disappointed!"
Hermione looked as if she would burst into tears. An image of her austere great-grandmother had superimposed itself over Narcissa's face, and that now-departed Dragon Lady, as she was dubbed, had been the terror of her childhood. Draco sat with his head hung in shame beside her.
"You will get dressed and meet me in the sitting room in half an hour. We need to discuss how we are to amend this disaster. Since a Bonding ceremony is needless at this point, we should at least hold a formal evening to properly introduce you as a married couple to society. So, you had better start thinking of who you want to invite, Ms. Granger. Or, should I say, Mrs. Malfoy." And with that, Narcissa exited the room.
"Malfoy, I apologize. You're not such a prat now that I know what terrors you faced growing up."
"Oh, don't worry about Mother. She's just upset that she didn't get to plan a lavish wedding for us. You'll see: she'll be our staunchest supporter in front of her harpy friends. I think you should be more worried about how you're going to explain this to your bunch." Hermione groaned.
A faint hoot was heard from the window. Looking up, Hermione saw Pigwidgeon sitting at the sill. Resigned, she walked over to retrieve the message tied to his leg. He flew away.
"Is that Weasel's owl?"
"Yes it is. And his name is Ron Weasley. And that's another thing, Malfoy: whether or not you like it or not, you are going to treat my friends with common civility from now on. While sober. So, no name calling, no disparaging remarks, no hexing or cursing, no - "
"Alright, alright! Same goes for my friends!"
"Agreed. Provided they don't provoke me first."
"And same goes for Potter and Weasley."
"I'll talk with them. Hmmm, Ginny's beginning to sound more and more like her mother. And yours. She sends her congratulations, though, on behalf of herself, her family, and Harry and Ron, who are too stunned to offer it themselves. And we are invited to Sunday breakfast at Tthe Burrow. You're going to behave, aren't you, Malfoy?"
"Summoned already! Given the circumstances, we may as well start getting used to calling each other by our given names, Hermione."
"Agreed. You're going to behave at Tthe Burrow on Sunday, aren't you, Draco?"
"You're such a harpy! I swear I'll never drink - " But they were interrupted by another owl, who deposited a red envelope onto the bed and flew off. "Fuck!" The envelope exploded into a magnified cacophony of his friends, who haphazardly berated and congratulated him on his nuptials in their typical lewd and hungover fashion. "Wankers! Wait 'til I get my hands on them!" But he was laughing. Hermione had blushed furiously at some of their comments. She suddenly became conscious that she was standing in the nude in the middle of the room and that Draco was eyeing her appreciatively. She gave a small yelp and ran into the bathroom.
