Hi everyone!
Thank you so much to everyone who left me such kind notes on the last chapter. It really means a lot. Here is chapter 20, the engagement ball! Finally. Well, sort of. There was so much I wanted to fit into this chapter that I had to split it into two parts. I'm sorry in is part one, and I am working very hard to finish up part two. Either way, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for all you love, kindness, and support. Let me know what you think might happen in part two...you never know...
Best.
E
Today was the day. The day that Hermione would officially be tethering herself to Draco Malfoy for the rest of her life. Publicly and socially, that is.
Friday had passed by in a whirlwind of work and last minute preparations. Everything at the Ministry was still a bit wonky, as everyone around her was still trying to adjust to the news of Hermione's impending nuptials. Had it been anyone else in the world, she knew that the people of Wizarding Britain would be celebrating. But now, everyone just assumed that she was mad, or like Ron, that she was under an intense case of the Imperius Curse.
Either way, Hermione was doing her best to adjust to her new normal.
Her conversation with Amelia the day before had done little to settle the enormous amount of nerves that had been boiling in her stomach since mid-week. The pair had once again taken their lunch in the Ministry Cafe's enclosed courtyard, where it was only a short amount of time before the conversation turned to the subject of the engagement ball.
"A party planned by the one and only Narcissa Malfoy. This is going to be absolutely legendary." Amelia mused as she stabbed a forkful of her cobb salad, shoving the bite in her mouth as her eyes wandered in awe.
"It's just a party, Amelia. I've been to plenty of them before. I don't believe this one will be any different. Besides the fact that it is to announce my engagement to the Pureblood Malfoy heir, that is." Hermione responded, taking in a spoonful of her roasted pumpkin and garlic soup.
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…" Amelia laughed, making fun of the curly haired witches naivete.
"What?"
"This is Narcissa Malfoy we're talking about. The former queen of Pure Blooded, aristocratic parties herself. She basically wrote the handbook on how to be a socialite. And this isn't just any party. It's the engagement ball of her only son. It's going to be the affair of the century, after your wedding, of course." Amelia laughed, and Hermione had to keep herself from nervously fidgeting with the paper napkin strewn haphazardly across her lap.
But Hermione knew, deep down, that her beaming co-worker wasn't wrong.
Narcissa Malfoy was an expert at planning the most elaborate affairs known to witches and wizards alike. If the experience of her and Draco's engagement portraits hadn't been a telling sign, the incredibly detail laden invitations that the party guests had received certainly were.
And so afterwork on Friday, Hermione began a night of preparations with Ginny. Face and hair masks were applied, manicures and pedicures painted, and an unorthodox amount of waxing had been performed, much to Hermione's chagrin.
Normally she loved rocking her more naturally bushy eyebrows. She was confident in them. But Ginny had insisted that the new trend was more polished, thinned out eyebrow shapes, Hermione had caved. Her friend knew more about fashion and beauty than she did, after all. Being surrounded by twenty other women everyday helped that fact.
The night of pampering had left Hermione feeling somewhat more confident in her appearance. Ginny had also given her seal of approval before heading off and back home to Harry. Hermione had spent the rest of the night cuddling with Crookshanks and trying not to mess with the smooth curls that had somehow been achieved. While Ginny and Hermione had agreed to leave Hermione's usual hair texture, a hair mask with honey and jojoba oil had given her curls the moisture they had so desperately needed.
"You're going to do amazing tomorrow, Hermione. Don't doubt yourself. And also don't forget, Harry and I will be there too if you really need anything." Ginny had reassured her as she stepped through the Floo.
The young witch knew that the youngest Weasley wasn't wrong. And she also had her fiance, as weird as it was to still say. Draco would be there as well, and Hermione knew, with some certainty, that the pale headed wizard wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He had promised, after all.
So there she stood, wrapped in her comfy, terry cloth robe as she gazed at the dress that hung elegantly from her armoire. Narcissa had once again taken it upon herself to provide Hermione with a multitude of fashion helpings, including once again insisting that Hermione wear some of the Malfoy family jewelry. The case that had been delivered this morning had contained a three piece set, consisting of a bracelet, earrings, and necklace.
The silver filigree work of the baubles was similar to her engagement ring, Hermione had instantly noted. Smooth opals were the gemstones of choice, with limited faucets but heavy in carats. Hermione had instantly fallen in love with the collection, and they were patiently awaiting to be put on, laid out on her unmade bed.
"Well Crooks, let's get ready, shall we?" Hermione spoke to her furry familiar, who mewled loudly from his bed in the corner of the witch's room.
"Alright then."
—00000—
From the first time that he had been forced into formal wizarding dress robes at the tender age of five, Draco Malfoy had hated dressing up with a passion. The traditional balck velvet collar of his dress robes had always made him itchy, and the stark white of his shirt had always made him seem even more pale than normal, if that was even a possibility.
But surprisingly tonight, Draco did not have that issue. Changes in wizarding fashion after the war had meant that the previous dress robes that Draco had been raised wearing were obscure. Now, his dress robes consisted of a well-fitted tailcoat, a white textured dress shirt, and a pair of very well tailored dress pants. No more horrid velvet collar, and no more overbearing overcoat. Draco figured that the height of wizarding fashion was now highly influenced by the Muggle world, much to his own mother's horror.
Narcissa had tried desperately, and failed miserably, to try and convince Draco to dress in the familiar garb of his ancestors. Draco had happily declined. So happily he stood, adjusting the edges of his soft white leather dress gloves, made of the finest dragonhide. That detail of his outfit was the one thing Narcissa had refused to let him ignore.
"Oh my dragon, you look absolutely dashing." Narcissa greeted her son, entering the room with a swish of her skirts. Draco turned to address his mother, a small smile gracing his chiseled face.
"Thank you, Mother. You look absolutely stunning, as usual." Draco complemented his mum, placing a small peck on her check as she embraced him.
Once again in her element, Narcissa Malfoy looked like pure royalty. Her hair was swept up in a beautiful arrangement, dotted with small glimmering pins. The dress she had chosen was a striking charcoal gray, the fabric alternating colors depending on how the light hit it. Her jewelry was simple, with only a delicate pair of silver studs and a singular diamond pendant on her neck. The utmost representation of less is more.
"Thank you, my love." Narcissa spoke, waiting a few beats before continuing with her statement.
"I can't believe we are really here. At your engagement ball. For so long, I never thought this day would come. I am so proud of you, my dragon. I know you may not feel it now, you and Hermione create a beautiful life together." Narcissa spoke with hope in her eyes, and Draco couldn't help but smile again at his mother's dreaming.
"Let's get through tonight, Mum, before you get ahead of yourself."
"Well, it is true. Anyways, the guests have already begun arriving. I saw Mr. Nott and Ms. Greengrass, as well as Mr. Zabini. Mr. Potter and his Ms. Weasley have also arrived. I saw a few other of Hermione's friends as well. Hermione hasn't arrived yet either, but I assume that she is just making some final touches before Flooing in. Now you do remember that you will be escorting her down the main staircase, correct?" Narcissa was back into party planning mode.
"Yes, Mother, I remember." Draco had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. His mother had been pestering him all day with instructions and details on how the evening was to go. From which types of hors d'oeuvres to eat, and which to avoid, to what the lineup of dances were going to be. She had had him assisting the string quartet earlier, and a large bass had nearly taken out his shoulder.
"Just confirming, darling. I want this night to go perfectly." Narcissa smiled.
"It will, I promise." Draco reassured her.
"Alright then. Well, Hermione should be Flooing into this room soon. I'm going to go and find your father. Good luck, my dragon." Narcissa bid her son farewell, now in search of Lucius.
Draco knew his father was probably hiding away In his study, drowning his sorrows in a very expensive bottle of liquor. Lucius had always hated these social events as much as Draco did, but at least Draco had always the decency to show his mother some sort of respect in his actions.
Looking at the clock on the fireplace mantel, Graco stationed himself to dutifully await his future bride's arrival.
—00000—
Hermione took one last look in the mirror, carefully smoothing down the skirts of her periwinkle gown. Her hair was done up in an elegant updo, with small tendrils of honey-colored curls framing her face. The soft satin of her gloves brushed the skin of her arms, making her feel like a princess from a fairy tale. The jewelry that Narcissa had sent her made her glimmer. She had paired the dress with a simple strappy silver heel, which gave her some height to her petite frame.
Looking at the glowing numbers of the alarm clock on her bedside table, Hermione realized that she was almost running late. Gathering her wits, she made her way into the living room, stepping in front of the floo. With a deep breath and a scoop of the neon green powder in her gloved hand, Hermione whispered the address of Malfoy Manor before stepping into the familiar roaring flames.
Instantly she was greeted with the sight of Draco Malfoy, dressed in what almost appeared to be a Muggle tuxedo. But with closer inspection, she also noticed the wizarding touches of the fabric and scrollwork details of the hardware.
"Hermione Granger, nearly late to her own engagement ball. How absolutely shocking." Draco's voice drawled in an amused tone, and Hermione couldn't help but break a smile at his teasing commentary.
"Very funny, Malfoy. You try getting ready with a gown that laces up the back by yourself." Hermione quipped.
"Touche. So are you ready to look doom in the face?" Draco questioned his fiance, who gave him a small nod.
"I helped defeat the darkest wizard that ever lived. This should be a cake walk in comparison." Hermione sighed, and Draco tried not to stiffen at her joke.
"I assume you know all the proper etiquette that is expected of you tonight?" Draco asked, knowing good and well that Hermione had studied for this event.
"Oh I do. Your mother was sure to include a very helpful pamphlet in with the jewelry that she so graciously loaned me this morning." Hermione laughed, and instantly thought of the nearly three foot long piece of parchment Narcissa had sent her that morning. Hermione, of course, had studied it like it was her Transfiguration final exam. She had memorized nearly every word, down to how she should properly remove her glove to take an hors d'oeuvres. She even now knew how to properly take a sip of champagne after a formal toast.
"I figured she would. Now I know that you probably are somewhat familiar with the dances that will be performed, but if you need any guidance, I will be there." Draco referenced the very brief dance training that they had both received before the Yule Ball in fourth year. Draco has been trained in dancing since he was merely a tot, But he didn't know how familiar Hermione would be with the steps of old Preblooded dances.
"If I need any help, I'll let you know." Hermione agreed, before Narcissa once again floated into the room.
"Oh Hermione, how absolutely stunning you look. The jewelry suits you beautifully." Narcissa complimented her future daughter-in-law.
"Thank you, Narcissa. You look wonderful as well." Hermione returned the compliment.
"Well, the guests have arrived. It's time to introduce the newly-engaged couple. If you both will follow me, time to present you to our guests." Narcissa motioned for the couple to follow her out the room and down the hall, to where there was a large mezzanine looking over the large ballroom.
People dressed in all sorts of finery filled the vast room, and Hermione could hear the soft melodic songs of the string quartet playing. The sound of clinking champagne glasses filled her ears, and suddenly the butterflies that had been trapped in her stomach once again erupted in a flurry of nerves.
Draco could sense that Hermione was nervous. Reaching out, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Hermione looked at him, shocked by his sweet gesture. He gave her a reassuring smile, and just like that, the butterflies in her stomach instantly seemed to settle.
It was the crystalline sound of Narcissa's voice that Drew their gazes away from one another.
"Friends, family, acquaintances, and all that are gathered today. I welcome you to our home. We are gathered here to celebrate the joining of two bright young souls in the promise of marriage. Tonight, I ask you to join me in welcoming my son, Draco Lucius Malfoy and his bride-to-be the beautiful Hermione Jean Granger." Narcissa swept out her arm, inviting Draco and Hermione into the spotlight.
Draco took Hermione's arm in his, gently placing his gloved hand on her own. They approached the banister of the mezzanine, where they entered the view of the crowd below.
"Now, if you will all please clear the dance floor, as Hermione and Draco will lead us in the first dance of the night." Narcissa announced proudly, and Draco turned to whisper quietly in Hermione's ear as before they descended the mahogany staircase.
"Are you ready for this?" Draco asks Hermione.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
—00000—
The couple reached the Dance Floor, where the string quartet were patiently waiting to begin their song. Hermione recognized many people amongst the crowd. Familiar faces looked upon her and Draco as they positioned themselves to start the first dance of the evening.
"Place your hand on my shoulder. Take a deep breath. Let me lead." Draco instructed Hermione. His tone was gentle, guiding. Hermione was thankful, as she could feel herself almost instantly tensing up. She did as he recommended, placing her hands in the proper positioning for a waltz.
Hermione couldn't help but notice how warm Draco's hand was when he placed them on her waist. He took her small hand in his own, and Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself and her overflowing emotions. The music started to play, and Draco began to move them in the pattern of a waltz.
Almost instantly, Hermione recognized the song that was stealing the large ceilings of the room. It was a piece that her father would often play on his record player as she was growing up, from a classical album that he'd always loved. Draco noticed the surprise on her face, and couldn't help but give her an amused smile.
"I'm guessing this song seems familiar." He commented as he twirled them about the room. Hermione nodded, speaking to him while also trying to keep her focus on her footing.
"Is this…Tchaikovsky?" Hermione finally asked, the song finally connecting with the composer in her memories. Draco nodded.
"The Swan Lake Waltz, to be exact. One of my mother's favorites, and mine as well, if I'm being honest." Draco admitted. Hermione gave him a confused stare as the music played on, and other couples began to join the couple in the dance.
"I thought Tchaikovsky was a Muggle composer?" Hermione asked.
"You would be surprised about who is not who they seem to be." Draco smiled, and Hermione was amazed with the answer. She had never known such an interesting fact, tying the familiarity of her Muggle upbringing to the current situation of her wizarding life.
As they spun around, performing the intricate footwork of the traditional promenade, Hermione kept thinking one thing that she needed to say to her fiance. As the song came to an end, Draco took her by the waist with both hands, dipping her in a deep flourish. Looking up at him, she held a hard gaze with his stormy gray eyes, now revealing themselves to include small flecks of silver.
"Draco?" Hermione whispered as he pulled her back to a standing position, applause feeling the air around them.
"Yes, Hermione?" The young heir answered, a concerned glance filling his face.
"I just wanted to say thank you." Hermione smiled.
"For what?" Draco questioned, confused by her sudden statement.
"For being who I never thought you could be."
And while the night had just begun, Hermione realized that maybe what seemed to be a nightmare, could really be a fairy tale in disguise.