Chapter Text
Draco was having a truly wonderful month. It seemed that married life suited him spectacularly, and so he settled into wedded bliss with ease and delight. January had slipped slowly into early February and he had spent a cold and snowy month almost exclusively wrapped up in thick duvets, buried between Hermione’s thighs.
Well, not the whole time. Okay fine, only a little of the time. He went to his classes and studied and was forced outside regularly for sunlight and flying by Blaise. He spent time with his friends, wrote his dissertation and watched as Astoria would back up if she saw Hermione coming and thoroughly enjoyed it.
But winter in Scotland was cold, and bed was warm and cosy, and yes, he did enjoy all the benefits of what that entailed.
Because someone (some wonderful, incredible and generous soul that he believed needed thanked on bended knee) had gifted them a belated wedding gift of a marvellous book ‘Magical Karma Sutra’ and Draco had taken every single opportunity presented to him (and created many others by utilising his sneaking, cunning and menace) to make full use of it and the small living space that was just for the two of them.
Sadly, Hermione forced him out of the Star Dome far too regularly, inciting inconsequential and boring things like ‘friendship,’ and ‘hot meals,’ and ‘studying,’ but he was persuasive and adorable and therefore he was able to seduce/entice/lure Hermione back to their rooms for long, satisfying evenings working their way through this book.
Draco had strongly suspected it was Luna Lovegood who had sent them the book and, so grateful was he for the gift, he had sent her an enormous basket of various exotic fruits and flowers in thanks. It was so big it required six flamingoes to deliver it in the Great Hall at breakfast time.
He had it on good authority that Lovegood had immediately taken it out to the Forbidden Forest in the hopes of enticing Dancing Floozies who apparently were attracted to exotic fruits and shiny objects. She had also woven herself a pink feather crown that clashed terribly with her radish earrings but she seemed to love it nonetheless.
Draco was glad she liked it. Luna was rather odd, but he found he liked her.
Alas, Draco’s explorations of the ‘Magical Karma Sutra’ were coming to a close.
As January turned to early February, bringing with it hard frosts that lingered all day long and deepened further in the evenings, Hermione became more strict with her study schedule (and his) and they spent more time in the library, working diligently on their dissertations.
Or in Draco’s case; sometimes working on his essay and in others plotting various scenarios in which Hermione might let him kiss her and distract her from studying and revision.
Their group of friends were often occupied elsewhere. In fact, come to think of it, Draco couldn’t remember the last time their now combined friendship groups had been together in a couple of weeks. He saw them all, certainly, but not all at once, which was curious.
Harry might drop by, citing some crisis or another to Hermione, once wincing and rubbing his scar and saying he needed to talk about the time he was dead (Draco chose not to ask questions because that sounded like a can of worms he didn’t want to peer into) or Blaise might stop by, asking him for help in brewing various tinctures for Esmie, who had been a little peaky.
Ginny breezed in and out as her Quidditch schedule and tryouts for various teams would allow, often asking Hermione to accompany her shopping saying she needed something smart to wear to tryout interviews.
Theo had been conspicuously absent but when Draco had asked him he had waffled something about being on the edge of ‘an evolutionary breakthrough that would allow him even more opportunities for chaos’ and that all would be revealed soon. He had even wiggled his hands mystically as he retreated into his bedroom and Draco, who had known Theo long enough that whatever chaos he was harbinging would be revealed at some point, chose not to ask questions.
Even Neville had swung by on occasion, asking if Hermione wanted to see his plant babies because they loved the scarves she knitted.
It was all very curious. Draco craved to know the meaning behind it all, but to know his friends secrets he would have to spend less time in bed with his wife and, frankly, he didn’t care enough to know their secrets that badly.
Valentines Day 1998 dawned cold and crisp, the sky a light blue and the grounds glittering with a hard frost.
Draco, who would deny until his dying breath that he was a romantic, woke Hermione up early (he had been slightly concerned for the length of his life because his darling wife was not particularly inclined to get out of bed and had threatened him with hexes) but with a little cajoling and a lot of sweet, nuzzling kisses which he knew she just loved, they were up, dressed and were on their way to the Headmistresses office at eight o’clock sharp.
He had acquired special permission from McGonagall and Minister Shacklebolt to step out for the day, and with a twist and turn of the Portkey (an old Victorian shoe horn) they arrived in a bright, sunny, and bloody cold Paris.
Draco treated Hermione to petit-dejeuner at the Ritz Paris, thoroughly enjoying seeing her absolute delight at their patio table; a delightful and light space with cream coloured chairs, thick white tablecloths and the famous Belle Époque glass roof. The space was suited to the season and so the walls and tables were styled to suit a winter garden.
They enjoyed a breakfast of the lightest and butteriest French pastries, a selection of cheeses from the cheese cart, fresh fruits and hams. Breakfast dispensed with, they stepped out into the city to explore the Parisian Wizarding quarters and they both indulged in perusing the magical book stops, before a wander along the Seine and a warming chocolat chaud. Their Portkey brought them back to Hogwarts around mid-afternoon.
Draco had vague notions of a bubble bath for two and a sleepy afternoon reading when they arrived in front of the Great Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were blocked off with enormous red and yellow stripped banners emblazoned with the words ‘keep out or feel my wrath’ along with a pop up head of Pansy threatening to slit someones throat and then smiling sweetly, along with their entire friendship group milling about.
“What on earth is going on here?” he asked Hermione, who was looking at Harry and Ron taking directions from Pansy like she was hallucinating. He saw her pinch her arm discreetly to see if what she was seeing was real.
“Now Parks, don’t despair,” said Theo, as he stretched lazily against a pillar, twirling his wand like a baton. “I have it on good authority that they won’t be back for a couple of hours and even then—“
“NOBODY APPRECIATES THE IMPORTANCE OF THE VISION! IT MUST BE TRANSCENDENT!” screeched Pansy, stamping her foot and scowling at a piece of parchment. Neville walked up to her and rubbed her arm soothingly, murmuring in her ear until, still grumbling, she let the fury out her stance and eyed the group in front of her.
“This must be executed perfectly. I will not have this being ruined because of a bunch of miscreants who don’t know how to put together a wedding—“ said Pansy.
“AAAARRRGHHHH!” screamed Theo, spotting Hermione and Draco and flinging a silencing charm at Pansy. Pansy went red with fury and glared at Theo like she was trying to blow him up with her eyes alone.
“Why, hello there Draco and Hermione.” said Theo really loudly, turning everyone’s attention to them. “Why, what a corking surprise to see you here! Let’s just step this way,” - he wrapped an arm around Draco’s and Hermione’s shoulders and attempted to steer them away from the Great Hall doors - “and lets hear all about your morning. Belle Paris! Are the pastries as delectable as ever, or…”
Draco glanced ate Hermione, who was looking very skeptical, and they both quickly extracted themselves from Theo. Harry and Ron were gaping at them, Pansy waved her wand to Unsilence herself and heaved in a dignified breath.
Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose and Draco supposed his best friend was likely sighing at being the only pillar of sense in a sea of chaos.
“What’s going on?” Draco asked, eyeing the ‘keep out’ signs warily.
“Harry? Ron?” demanded Hermione, looking at her friends who immediately stumbled over themselves.
“Well ‘Mione, what it is… is… is…”
“What Ron means to say is that we find ourselves in this position where…”
“She told us…”
“Pansy asked us to…”
“No! We can’t say! Its top secret. No girls allowed!”
“Ron, Hermione is a girl. So is Pansy!”
“Oh yeah, right. Well, anyway—”
“Oh for goodness sake. SHUT IT!” roared Ginny. She gave a small ladylike cough that was in direct juxtaposition to the noise she had just made and smiled at them sweetly. “What those two idiots mean to say is that we are throwing you a party. Well, a wedding reception to be precise. Only, Theo estimated we still had a couple of hours to decorate and now I need to incinerate him for ruining the surprise but anyway, surprise!!”
Her words were cut off as Hermione launched forwards and yanked Ginny into a strangling hug.
“Hermione… between this and your hair I can’t breathe…” Ginny choked out, flailing about as she struggled for air.
“Yeah, and I think you’ll find this was my idea!” added Ron, looking indignant.“Where’s my hug?!”
“The weasel had an idea?” Draco enquired of Blaise.
“We were all as shocked as you are,” nodded Blaise, still lounging against the stone wall.
“AND I AM IN CHARGE!” boomed Pansy, eyes gleaming with fiendish delight.
Draco snorted in laughter. “Of course you are, Parks.” She stuck her tongue out at him good naturally before turning around to corral her minions.
“Ginny, go and sort Hermione out. As we discussed. You know what to do.” Said Pansy, pointing her finger.
Pansy turned to Draco and eyed him critically, looking him up and down. “Draco, go and find something to do. Have one of your luxurious bubble baths and be in Blaise’s room no later than six. If I catch either you or Hermione down here spoiling more of your surprise I will make Neville set his venomous plants on you.”
“Erm Pansy, I’m n-not sure that I’m comfortable with that…” stammered Neville awkwardly, looking apologetically at Hermione.
Pansy pressed a kiss to Neville’s cheek, who immediately blushed and then nodded his agreement. “Quite so, Pansy. As you say. Venomous plants it’ll be.”
“Wonderful!” announced Pansy, clapping her hands together and eyeing Hermione and Draco. “Now Mr and Mrs Malfoy, please piss off so that I might have room to create THE VISION…” Pansy’s eyes gleamed demonically. Draco was quite happy to get out from under her feet. The witch looked possessed.
Ginny tried to steer Hermione away but she escaped Ginny’s death grip on her arm and went straight up to Pansy.
“Hermione, I simply don’t have time for sentimentality right now. I’m on a tight schedule and The Vision requires my full concentration—“ Her words cut off as Hermione pulled Pansy into a tight hug.
“Thank you,” Hermione said, absolutely beaming at Pansy.
Pansy smiled, her cheeks flushed and she fussed with the paper crown she was wearing. “Yes well, I told you several months ago we were going to be best friends. I believe this is what one does for one’s best friend.” She straightened up and pointed a manicured finger in Hermione’s face. “Right, and as your bestie and as Best Bitch in charge, off you go. Shoo! Go and let Ginny be in charge of whatever lotions and potions she wants to dollop on you, and I’ll be here accepting champagne and thank you’s at precisely seven o’clock.”
With that Pansy whirled around and started barking orders at everyone who remained standing. Ginny tried to drag Hermione off again but Draco stole a few kisses from his wife first before letting her go. He then wandered off to the Prefects bath, thinking to himself that a luxury bubble bath after a morning exploring Paris wasn’t too much of a hardship.
Several hours, and one spectacular bath later (complete with a new lengthy hair care routine courtesy of a Parisian hair salon he had popped into) and Draco marched himself up to Blaise’s room. He found his best friend standing with Pansy and holding a magnificent set of dress robes.
The trousers were Draco’s favoured sharp black, embroidered in silver and green constellations, with a crisp white shirt and cream dinner jacket, along with a silk bow tie in a shade of green so dark it almost looked black save for a small shimmer of colour under the candlelight.
Draco trailed his fingertips over the jacket and found the weight of the material was as he favoured in his clothes with a small smile.
“I took inspiration from what you actually married Hermione in, but thought that a step up was required now that you no longer need to blend into Muggle Edinburgh.” said Pansy excitedly, showing him black and gold dragon cufflinks. “Now off you pop!” and she shoved him into Blaise’s ensuite bathroom to get ready.
Dressed, hair coiffed, cufflinks on and boutonnieré in place (‘a thistle,’ murmured Pansy. ‘Another nod to your wedding location,’) and Draco found himself being strong armed down the stairs and stood outside the Great Hall.
“Now, you will stand here and await your bride and once the clock strikes seven o’clock, the doors are enchanted to open.” said Pansy, smoothing her hair even though it was already sleek and perfect, as always.
Draco tugged at his collar slightly, a small swell of excitement and nervous anticipation stirring in his belly.
“Stop fidgeting!” Pansy snarked, smacking his hands away. “You’ll mess up your bow tie!” and she fussed with the thing, brushing him down and examining him critically for any pieces of fluff. She gave a satisfied smile and nodded.
“Pansy,” Draco murmured, catching her by her wrist. She turned back to him and raised one perfect eyebrow, her jade green silk dress rustling and reflecting the candle light outside the Great Hall.
“This is… thank you for this, Pans. This is incredible.”
Pansy smiled and wrinkled her nose affectionally at him. “Stop or you’ll make me cry and ruin my make up.” She heaved in a deep breath then gave him a small grin. “Just wait til you see the inside. The Vision is even better than I imagined! Seven o’clock!”
She turned and slipped through a door that had appeared to the side of the Great Hall main doors and slipped through, followed by Ginny who was in a deep sapphire gown. She caught his eye, gave a sharp grin, winked and then looked somewhere a little over his shoulder before quickly turning away.
Draco felt a tingling along his shoulders and chest as he always did when Hermione was nearby and he spun in place, looking for his witch. He took her in and gasped in awe at the woman in front of him.
His wife. Gods, how he loved her.
Hermione was in front of him in a floor length white gown, the bodice and train of the dress covered in delicate and intricate lace. Delicate angel sleeves fluted down to her elbows, and an ivory velvet trim nipped in at her waist. He spied her favourite snowflake necklace winking against her golden skin in the V cut around her breasts.
But it was her hair that caught his attention the most. It was long and loose, his favourite, and although it was styled more than her everyday look her curls maintained an air of wildness to them, swirling around her shoulders and down her back just begging for him to fist them and pull her into a deep kiss.
And perched on them was a flower crown that made her look like she was a fairy queen come to life. He took her in in absolute awe. In fact his jaw might have been on his chest.
“Hi,” Hermione said softly, something shy in her stance. She took a moment, taking in his outfit, her eyes lingering on his legs and shoulders before reaching her hand out for him. He captured her hand with his and he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her fingers, her wedding rings and then to the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.
“My darling wife. You look incredible.” he murmured, standing back up to his full height and pulling her closer.
A pleased flush coloured her cheeks and she laughed a little as she spun in place so he could see the swirl of her dress, the deep V of the back of the dress that left her spine bare to him.
“It was my mothers dress,” she said smiling, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she turned back to face him and fingered the lace at the swell of her hips. “I don’t know how on earth Ginny and Pansy managed to get hold of it, but I had saved it before I sent my parents away. I was never much one for dreaming of wedding dresses but this is… pretty perfect actually.”
Draco wrapped his arms around her and wiped away a tear that spilled over with the pad of his thumb and whispered a spell to right her smudged make up. “Is this what you would have worn? If we had been able to marry the way we wanted?”
Hermione smiled and nodded. “It’s perfect.” he murmured. He pulled back to look at her again. “And you, darling wife, are a vision.”
He pulled her in for a kiss but just at that moment there was the sound of the clock in the entrance hall chiming the hour and the red and yellow banners bearing Pansy’s warning on the Great Hall doors disappeared.
A tingle of magic washed over the doors and the enormous handles were wreathed in floral arrangements. They were flowers of every type imaginable, the colour scheme resplendent in deep pinks, reds, citrus and burnt orange flashes, along with dark green foliage and a smattering of a tiny blue flower that cut through the reds and lifted the entire arrangement.
Hundreds of floating candles appeared around them, their stems a soft, smoky grey rather than the usual white standard Hogwarts affair, candle wax rippling down the stems.
The doors creaked open and a swirl of something smoky and intriguing escaped the Great Hall inviting them in.
Draco smiled at Hermione. “Ready to let Pansy throw us what is likely to be the most extravagant affair Hogwarts has seen in years?”
She threaded her fingers through his and beamed up at him. “Of course!” she replied happily.
They stepped into the Great Hall, the smoke dissipating quickly now that they were inside, and were blown away as they were met with friends, family and faculty shouting ‘surprise!’ in chorus.
The Great Hall was completely different from how it looked on the average day and Draco had to admit to himself, Pansy had absolutely outdone herself on The Vision and as he took in all her hard work in awe, he caught her eye. She raised a glass of champagne in toast to him and mouthed ‘you’re welcome’ looking incredibly proud of herself.
Gone were the four house tables and in their place was one long table in the centre of the room covered in glimmering glass wear, pewter shining plates and cutlery with cream napkins arranged and folded on the plates, just waiting for dinnertime.
The entire centre of the table was filled with yet more of the flower arrangements, the pinks, reds and oranges in every shade imaginable spilling into each other and the deep green leaves and foliage gave way every now and again to yet more of the smoke grey candles, their light lending warmth and atmosphere to the arrangement.
“Are those… Muggle fairy lights?” gasped Hermione, her brown eyes huge and shining with wonder as she pointed above the table where strings of Muggle light bulbs were festooned from the ceiling, their light warm and golden, along with colourful golden lanterns, floating and shimmering with candlelight as well. “How did they manage to get them to work? A Charm? But electricity doesn’t work at Hogwarts… I’ll need to ask…”
Every inch of the stone walls had been utilised and were decorated with old, ornate mirrors that were framed in deep burnt gold, candelabra towers and yet more of the flowers that were spilling from burnished golden vases. The mirrors reflected the light and the Great Hall, while spacious on an average day, now looked like it was even bigger.
Draco admired Pansy’s tenacity because she had even managed to wrangle Professor McGonagall into banishing the bewitched ceiling for the evening and he looked up to see that tonight it didn’t reflect the evening sky (a deep navy blue) but instead was pitch black and winking with enchanted constellations that swirled through every colour of the rainbow. She had also managed to hang several enormous chandeliers, their glass beads spinning and dancing slowly so that any refracted light from the candles would intermittently flicker and flash on the walls, scattering over the mirrors and onto the stone floor.
And there in the centre of the Great Hall were their friends and cheering, hollering and clapping for them. His eyes flitted over familiar faces; Uncle Sev, wearing his usual black and cloaked affair, his hair suspiciously glossy and coiffed as it had been on the night of the Yule Ball.
McGonagall (clad in tartan trousers, tartan waistcoat with a crisp white shirt) was standing next to Minister Shacklebolt and several of his Auror secret service agents, who were there to ensure their Minister’s safety.
He saw various faces from their year group, including Ernie MacMillan who seemed to be puffed up with importance that he had been invited and was beaming at everyone.
Zacharias Smith was hanging on the arm of one of the Patil twins, who were both in full and resplendent Indian formal dress in beautiful jewel shades. Draco caught Blaise’s eye (which had been interestedly roving over the twins) and his friend winked at him, confirming Draco’s theory that Blaise was hoping to go to bed with one of them tonight.
Several Weasley’s were present, their red hair giving them away. Lavender Brown was present too in a purple dress with long sleeves looking far healthier than the last time Draco had seen her. Most of the Hogwart’s faculty were there, along with most of their year group.
Draco’s eye roved over Dean, who looked happy to be there, albeit minus Seamus.
Draco’s grin froze as he caught sight of someone he had not anticipated seeing.
Was that Viktor fucking Krum?!
He scowled at the Bulgarian immediately and wondered if Pansy would murder him if he found a way to give Krum food poisoning thus potentially spoiling The Vision. He was pretty sure she’d be on board, provided Krum collapse elsewhere in the castle and not in the midst of her masterpiece.
Hermione broke away from him first, stepping forwards and embracing Harry and Ron. Draco was pleased to see Ron was no longer wearing dress robes that looked like they were made of lace doilies as he had been at the Yule Ball, and begrudgingly admitted that he looked rather smart in a suit of a deep navy blue, a small orange rose blooming in his boutonnieré.
He watched as Harry grinned at Hermione, gestured to her dress and offering words that bloomed two beautiful pink patches on her cheeks. He was in dress robes of dark green and Draco snickered as he watched Hermione eye Harry’s haystack hair and attempt to tidy the mess up, only to be rebuffed as Harry leaped out the way and batted her hands away while laughing.
“Aw, it brings a tear to your eye doesn’t it?” said Theo, coming over to him, sniffling dramatically and bringing an embroidered hankie to his eyes.
“Speak for yourself,” Draco snickered, rolling his eyes when Theo pretended to blow his nose loudly, but he felt something warm and lovely settle into his bones as he watched their closest friends sipping champagne and celebrating with them.
Blaise (looking very smart in dress robes that were in the same smoky grey as the candle sticks) appeared at his side, having finally pulled himself away from ogling the Patil twins and offered him a flute of champagne.
“And just where is mine?!” demanded Theo, pouting and looking put out.
Blaise pointed at a table covered in flutes of champagne and smirked at him. “Over there and why, look at that! Potter seems to be needing one too. Perhaps you might want to…” but Theo was already gone before Blaise could finish his sentence, bustling over to the table and Harry in a blur of heather grey tweed suit.
They watched as Theo swiped up a glass and offered it to Harry on bended knee, who accepted it warily. Theo grinned in delight before standing and selecting his own, leaning rakishly against a nearby pillar and leaning into Harry, saying something that had the poor man blush.
Pansy stepped up next to Draco, smiling and winking over at Neville who was attempting to have a conversation with Hermione and failing because he could barely keep his eyes away from Pansy’s legs and the slit in her dress that showed them off.
“What do you think?” Pansy asked, her eyes trailing over the room in satisfaction.
“Pansy, you have truly outdone yourself,” said Draco and he dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You could do this as a business and wipe the floor with any competition. The Vision has been perfectly executed.”
“It has been!” she nodded in delight. “There’s a bonfire outside for later, but for now it is mingling, canapés and light music.” She raised her voice slightly as she spoke and within moments trays loaded with delights were being floated between their guests.
Draco excused himself and made his way over to Hermione, accepting congratulations and greetings from Ernie who was looking very debonair in a pale lilac suit and sporting a jaunty tie.
Ron appeared from nowhere, looking incredibly enthusiastic about the arrival of food. “Try the scallops and pea puree 'Mione! They are incredible! I was more for the chicken tikka skewers, but Pansy insisted we have some fancy food or Draco would complain. And I have to say, I like them!”
Ron was now in the middle of enthusiastically loading a dark grey plate with goodies for Hermione, talking at top speed as he did about which she should try first and regaling her of the food tasting process. “And these goats cheese and chutney vol-au-vents are like eating the most buttery and cheesy cloud!” Four were shoved on her plate.
“Erm Ron, these look delicious but I’m not sure I’ll manage all these…” began Hermione looking apologetic, using both hands to hold onto the plate being weighed down with food.
“Well, whatever you don’t manage I’ll polish off,” vowed Ron with a sincere nod and he placed his hand over his heart.
Draco was just about to rescue Hermione and hold the plate himself when Ginny appeared beside them. “Blimey Ronald!” she squawked, shoving the overloaded plate into Ron’s hands. “Let the poor woman breathe! And besides, she’s the bride. You can hold her plate and let her choose what she wants from it.”
“Right, yeah, course.” nodded Ron seriously, seemingly taking this as standard wedding advice, before turning to Hermione again. “I just wanted you to know all about the choices I made. I really, really tried to pick things you’d like, you know, to try to make up for being a bit of a prat the past few months…”
Hermione beamed up at Ron and hugged him tightly, then she drew back and Ron looked pink, but pleased.
Draco slipped an arm around Hermione’s waist and picked up a scallop from the plate. Ron grumbled a little (something about drawing the line for holding the ferrets plate) but grinned when Draco complimented the food.
“These really are good,” Draco nodded to Ron as he tasted a scallop. If there was one thing he could trust it was that Weasley knew good grub.
“Shipped all the way from Crail this morning!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Was a bit tricky see, because we needed a Muggle delivery but how to get it here? So we had to convince a Muggle delivery man on a felly-tone to drop it off at the gates, but of course they just see a derelict castle, don’t they? So there I am, trying to talk Muggle on the felly-tone and come up with a reason he needed to deliver it here and, well I got a bit flustered.”
Hermione and Draco blinked in shock as Ron rambled. “I’m on the felly-tone telling him we were having a wedding reception. Then Pansy starts smacking me reminding me that we are in the arse end of nowhere, and so I panicked and the next thing I know I’m saying it’s not a wedding reception but a cocaine party—”
Draco blinked in shock.
“—because I remember ‘Mione mentioned something about cocaine in that newspaper of hers the other day. Then I remembered cocaine is that Muggle drug that makes them crazy and it’s illegal, and then I was standing trying to convince the delivery driver that I’m not actually doing cocaine or a complete nutter— “
Draco exchanged a concerned glance with Hermione because Ron sounded absolutely mental, standing about in front of the school gates, trying to get his seafood delivery and waffling on about taking cocaine first thing in the morning.
“—but anyway, he eventually seemed to believe me that I was just making bad jokes. And at this point it’s seven o’clock in the morning and I’m standing about in my cloak and wellies trying to keep warm, but then Harry showed up and…”
Ron continued to ramble about his abilities in convincing Muggles to deliver seafood to derelict looking castles and Draco fed his wife a small tomato and mozzarella tart, enjoying how the flaky pastry crumbled on to her lip, and how her tongue flicked out to catch it and how she had accidentally licked his thumb in the process.
A floating tray passed by them and Ron seized the opportunity provided to draw breath, shoved Hermione’s overloaded plate into Draco’s hands and enthusiastically loaded his own plate with a large assortment of goodies.
Draco pilfered a couple more canapés then sent the plate back to the kitchens and sipped his champagne.
Ron meanwhile was practically inhaling an entire chicken tikka skewer down his throat. Theo and Harry appeared just at that moment, Theo seemingly very intrigued by Ron’s lack of gag reflex, snagged a skewer off Ron’s plate and passed it to Harry. “For educational reasons, Harry, I’m going to need to see you eat one of these.” Theo said seriously, eyeing Harry carefully as he took a bite.
Seeing Harry eating the chicken tikka skewer was all too much for Theo, who made a spectacularly dirty joke about this marvel, causing Ron to start choking on his own skewer and to drop his plate.
Harry quickly thumped Ron on the back until his airways cleared, and Pansy then appeared looking livid and berated Theo on deliberately spoiling The Vision, along with hissing several creative punishments she might dole out if he continued misbehaving.
Theo vanished the mess, summoned a new plate for Ron and spun Pansy away under his arm, gushing all the while about her talents in party planning, giving her another flute of champagne, steering her masterfully over to Neville. Neville tripped and fell back against a stone pillar, looking both enamoured and slightly scared of the woman now in front of him.
Draco watched as Pansy dismissed Theo, then purred at Neville trailing her fingers up his tie. The poor man blushed bright red and Draco snickered to himself, knowing that Pansy would be absolutely delighted at the effect she was having on him.
In amongst this chaos, it seemed Draco had lost track of his wife. He snaffled a canapé from a floating tray as it passed by and glanced around, taking in Professors McGonagall and Sprout having a competition to see who could drink their champagne the fastest. McGonagall won and she smacked her lips in appreciation, patting her adversary on the back.
Draco had just finished off the last bite of miniature Yorkshire pudding (filled with a slice of perfectly cooked beef and a drizzle of gravy) casting his eyes about for Hermione as Ron continued to talk about how he had went to a Muggle butcher in nearby Ballater for the beef, but had accidentally handed over Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans instead of Muggle cash to pay for the meat.
Draco thought they should consider themselves lucky that the Statute of Secrecy had not been broken with all this buffoonery. One of Shacklebolt’s secret service Auror’s that was patrolling nearby seemed to agree with this thought and was looking at Ron with clear concern.
Blaise, master of control and menace, saw this and put Esmie down from his pocket and onto the stone floor. She immediately pounced on the Auror’s boots and started eating the laces with enthusiasm, distracting the man from any further eavesdropping. He yelped and attempted to foist her off his boot, but Esmie was having none of it and clung on with her sharp little claws, chomping away happily.
Draco held suspicions that she was deliberately showing the Auror every single one of her sharp teeth, like the crocodile troublemaker she was, to intimidate him.
Draco glanced around and found his wife looking simply radiant, standing talking across the hall with Luna and Cho Chang. Luna was dressed in a gold, beaded affair that reminded him of a chandelier, the beads of her dress twinkling as she moved. He remembered her saying once that sun colours should be worn to weddings and something lifted in his chest at that as he remembered. Hopefully she hadn’t brought any Moon Spiders along for the evening.
His mood darkened however as Krum loomed all of a sudden behind the girls, moving towards Hermione with clear intent.
Who the fuck had invited him?! He was clad in some sort of… Merlin, was that a fucking taxidermied wolfskin fur around his shoulders?!
Draco watched as Krum smarmed his way over to his wife, before bowing deeply, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
Fury engulfed his body, hot and lashing. That was it. Krum needed eviscerated.
He looked over at Pansy for help, who had just left a pink and panting Neville by the champagne, and was already sashaying her way over towards him, citing spells all the while tidying up various spills and sorting minute details, taking her role as Vision Creator most seriously. She caught his eye and nodded grimly.
Draco made his excuses to Blaise (Ron was detailing how he then tried to pay the Muggle butcher in Galleons after he got back his Bertie Bott’s beans) and together he and Pansy moved across the Great Hall making a beeline towards Hermione and Krum.
Draco stepped in behind his wife, placing a hand on her bare lower back, just as he heard Krum speak. “Vy yes, I vos the man that killed this volf! He is very dashing on my shoulders, I am thinking.”
Draco wasn’t sure Krum was capable of thinking and communicated this with a small posh noise that might have been a cough, or a snicker of derision. Certainly in the circles he had been brought up in, everyone would know what he was saying without the need for words.
Krum took no notice of his noise, nor of him. How rude. Draco contemplated throwing him on the bonfire outside.
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the wolf fur and muttered something very strained about how barbaric hunting was as Krum scoffed.
Draco decided there and then to adopt an entire pack of wolves in his wife’s name and pay extra to ensure she received regular updates on their health and wellbeing, because he was a wizard who valued things such as this.
Well, he didn’t really because furs were cosy to sleep on (not to mention there was an extensive taxidermy collection at the manor) but Hermione disliked it and the main point Draco needed to get across to her was that he would be the saviour of wolves everywhere, if just to stick it to Krum for being a smarmy bastard and kissing his wife bare hand.
Draco picked up Hermione’s hand and interlinked their fingers, smiling down at her. He very deliberately brought the hand Krum had kissed to his face and put his lips to her skin, marking her as his.
Hermione eyed him crossly as if she knew exactly what he was doing and Draco suspected he would be in for a lecture later, but decided it was worth it.
Fortunately for Krum, he was spared Death By Bonfire as Pansy announced dinner, quickly directing (dragging) Krum to the far end of the table and far away from Hermione and Draco.
Draco spun himself and his wife away, regaling her with Weasley’s attempts to out the Wizarding world to unsuspecting Muggle shopkeepers by paying with Wizarding sweeties, and settling her into their seats.
Soft music accompanied their dinner as a choir of wood nymphs sang haunting and beautiful melodies as their courses were served. There was a small menu atop each place setting, listing their options, their plates charmed to provide their choices as it had been at the Yule Ball.
“Oh, the tomato soup sounds delicious but I don’t trust myself not to spill on my dress,” fretted Hermione, a little frown of worry appearing over her brows. Draco quickly occupied himself with kissing it away.
“Don’t worry, Hermione! Your dress is charmed so nothing can be spilt on it,” said Pansy from across the table. Hermione gave her a grateful look but nevertheless settled on asking her plate for melon and parma ham with pineapple salsa, rather than the roasted vine of tomato soup that he knew she loved. Draco opted for chicken liver parfait and oatcakes.
Their selections arrived immediately under a wash of golden sparkles and they, along with their guests, tucked in with enthusiasm.
At the far end of the table Uncle Sev was sat next to Professor Trelawney, who was sat swigging from with a hip flask that Draco was certain was filled with cooking sherry, rather than eating her starter. She upended some of her flask into her bowl of soup as she spoke to Uncle Sev.
“Your aura is pulsing, dear,” she slurred at him. Draco thought it was far more likely it was Snape’s temples that were pulsing as he tried to control his temper.
“And such fine hair tonight, Severus! Of course, with Uranus being in conjunction with Mars, I foresaw a change to your shampooing requirements…” she continued.
“Perhaps a bread roll, Sybil?” asked McGonagall, intervening on Snape’s behalf and brandishing a basket at her.
Trelawney accepted and started buttering her napkin instead of her crusty bread roll.
Uncle Sev looked like he was considering impaling himself on his butter knife. He spooned tomato soup into his mouth at top speed to save the need for answering Trelawney’s latest borage of questions on his new haircare regime.
Their places cleared of their starters and choice of wines selected (Hermione chose white, as did Draco when she looked positively aghast at him considering the red and motioned to her dress) they moved onto mains.
Hermione selected herb crusted cod with new potatoes and a lemon butter while he went for steak and ale pie, seasonal veg and potatoes. It arrived and the buttery, flakey pastry was as thick as a door stop, golden and perfection itself. Draco groaned in delight at the first bite.
Harry was slightly further down the table and had gone for the same thing and he floated Draco a tureen of gravy.
“‘Mione! Remind me to tell you about the taste testing of these main courses! They let me in the kitchen!” called Ron, looking delighted and his eyes shining in happiness.
“I thought he’d never leave.” said Harry, rolling his eyes at Ginny. “Honestly, we’re there to hire a chef for tonight and Ron’s practically proposing to the guy over a stove.”
Draco eyed Ron who was still talking about the chef he had befriended/fallen in love with while waving his fork over not one, not two, but three full plates in front of him. “Merlin’s beard Ron, is there an impending famine I am unaware of?” asked Draco incredulously as he laughed, and the rest of their friends joined in good a natured manner.
“I’m a hungry bloke,” Ron shrugged with ease and grinned. “I think I’ve got hollow legs. Besides, I can’t choose just one dish!” He said this like the mere thought was sacrilege itself. “So I chose three! This chicken supreme is to die for—“ His words cut off as he spooned mustard mash into his mouth with a moan of delight before swallowing. “Course, the chef said we could come back any time we liked. Said he’d never met a bloke so skinny that could eat so much. What do you reckon, Harry? We could sneak out the secret passageway and into Honeydukes basement, then Apparate there next weekend?”
“Or we could leave the normal way. The legal way. You know, out the front door?” said Harry, glancing at the Auror’s with concern.
“Far more fun to sneak about though—“
Blaise exchanged a look with Harry and both immediately faked a spectacular coughing and sneezing fits, drowning out the rest of Ron’s words just as the Auror Esmie had attacked looked up, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and body rigid with tension.
“Good heavens, Jones! Settle down, won’t you?” rumbled Shacklebolt over his steak pie from where he was sat opposite him. “This is a party! Nothing suspicious going on here. You ought to calm down man and learn to relax once in a while.”
Jones ate the remainder of his main course like he had never relaxed a day in his life, with his eyes fixed carefully on Ron the entire time, who was none the wiser and busy polishing off his three mains.
The party atmosphere grew warmer, louder and hazier as they ate and drank and the effects of the wine kicked in. Dinner dispensed with they moved onto puddings.
Draco had sticky toffee pudding with a butterscotch sauce and managed to butcher his order for it after drinking his wine too quickly. He accidentally requested a ‘stiffy’ much to everyones uproar and delight. Theo seized the chance to make many rude jokes about stiffy’s, boners and other unmentionables, while Hermione had laughed so hard at his request that she had tears on her cheeks. Pansy was forced to fix her make up and lectured her about not spoiling the masterpiece of The Vision.
Hermione eventually calmed down and opted for lemon cheesecake with a vanilla mascarpone cream. And she specifically asked her plate for no red berries coulis ‘just in case the charm fails and I make a mess of the dress.’
Ron ordered one of everything and a side of ice cream.
The lemon cheesecake arrived, unfortunately with the red berries coulis, and Hermione fretted and fussed while Draco thought it adorable that she still had Muggle concerns about magic. And so, as soon as her last bite of cheesecake was excavated from under the coulis and eaten, he vanished her plate and kissed her enthusiastically, unable to keep his passions to himself.
He pulled back and kissed her two, three, four times before beaming at her.
Theo groaned dramatically and gold was passed to Blaise, who pocketed his winnings and winked at Theo. “Two champagnes and two glasses of wine and that’s when he gets extra handsy with Hermione. I told you!”
“I could have sworn it was after three,” moaned Theo, looking crossly at Draco like it was all his fault but how could it be? He was simply enamoured with his wife and so Draco beamed happily at his friend and then kissed a stray dod of cream off Hermione’s lips.
“I don’t get handsy, do I?” he asked Hermione, rubbing his nose against hers.
She looked down pointedly to where Draco now had her sat on his knee, both his arms around her.
“Well when did that happen?” he murmured to himself, not displeased at all by the position they found themselves in.
Pansy was spooning up her pudding delicately, with all the manners and poise her upbringing had afforded her and Neville, much further down the table, was watching her without blinking and put his elbow in his butterscotch sauce.
Trelawney was attempting some sort of tarot card reading for Snape and kept dropping her cards in her butterscotch sauce. Snape rolled his eyes extravagantly as he was told by Trelawney that he would be going on holiday somewhere warm and sunny, and he announced loudly that he was allergic to the sun. McGonagall looked like she was ready to wring Trelawney’s neck, and Jones was watching Ron and taking notes in an Auror Jotter.
“Vy yes, I think hunting is a good sport,” Krum was explaining as he ate his pudding.
Luna gave him a very penetrating and cross glare that was most unlike her usual dreamy demeanour. “I think I shall have a word with the Blibbering Humdingers and have them follow you around next time you go hunting. They’re very protective of all creatures you know. They might curse your weapons so they backfire on you.”
Krum scoffed as if the mere idea of that was ludicrous and started to say he was far too tough and strong for that to affect him in any way. Good grief, he then posed and flexed his muscles at Luna who blinked owlishly at Krum, thoroughly unimpressed and uninterested, and muttered something about manly men annoying her.
Draco eyed Pansy who winked at him. “Don’t worry, he will be out of our hair soon.” she murmured. Draco eyed Hermione but she was leaning forwards so she could hear something Ron was saying and not aware of their conversation.
He trailed his hand down her bare back and then casually placed one of his roving hands on her arse. To secure her in place and so that she wouldn’t topple forwards, he told himself. Blaise saw this, sighed and passed Theo back some gold who then cheered enthusiastically.
“What’s your plan, Parks?” Draco asked quietly, watching as Krum used his pudding spoon as if weilding a spear as he regaled Luna with yet more hunting antics. Luna produced a pair of spectre specs and floated them onto his nose, spoiling the new manly pose that Krum was flexing his muscles in.
“Much better! Pink and sparkly suits you!” she said happily. Krum scowled and sat back down, grumbling into his pudding.
“I’ve had Luna put a laxative in his pudding. That way he can’t complain that we were out to get him as he all ate the same things as you, and you’re not ill. We can deposit him somewhere else in the castle and that’s that.” Pansy dusted her hands off.
“Who even invited him?!” growled Draco crossly. He soothed himself by squeezing Hermione’s bum.
Pansy fired a glare at Harry, who coughed nervously and gulped at his wine. Draco could see why. Pansy’s glares were almost as scorching and ferocious as his wife’s were. He wondered if they practised together.
“This imbecile seemed to think that Hermione would like to see him here!” Pansy sniffed, her tone heavily implying what she actually thought of that.
Draco glanced at Hermione but she still wasn’t listening, watching Fred and George as they floated various leaves, flowers and cutlery from the table and hid them in Trelawney’s hair. Trelawney swigged more from her hip flask, completely unaware.
Uncle Sev’s mouth twitched as he watched too. McGonagall, however, broke into an absolutely wicked grin and sipped her Gillywater in fiendish delight.
“And I was right!” declared Harry, looking indignant and bringing Draco back to the matter at hand.
“Potter, you don’t invite someone’s…” he sighed as his sentence trailed off. “I refuse to use the word ‘ex-boyfriend’ to describe him because Mi’ has only ever been mine. But you don’t invite them to their wedding reception!”
“Pansy is here!” said Harry, pointing at the witch and starting to get on Draco’s last nerve. Because that was not the point.
“I AM THE CREATOR OF THE VISION AND I AM IN CHARGE!” boomed Pansy, bringing Hermione’s attention back to their little nook of the long table. She smiled and kissed Draco and then started making soothing noises at Pansy, calming the witch down with flattery and compliments until Pansy settled down again.
Draco glared at Harry, who sighed and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Theo poured him more wine and winked at him and they both smiled at each other. Draco had a notion about where that particular little interaction was headed and decided he didn’t need the visual evidence of seeing Potter flirt burned into his memory.
He opted to trail a hand down up and down the soft skin of Hermione’s spine, lingering at the sensitive spot on the back of her neck. She leaned back into him and pressed several kisses to his cheek which he very much enjoyed before capturing his lips with hers. Someone on the table started whooping (probably a Weasley twin) and soon enough the entire table had joined in.
Hermione pulled back, blushing warm and pink on the apples of her cheeks, but laughing nonetheless.
Ron finally finished his second helping of another trio of puddings and Draco considered that the mans legs really must be hollow to eat so much food and they all stood.
Jones sidled up to near where Ron was standing. Thankfully Ron had finished talking about the food and his other possibly illegal activities of the past month but that didn’t stop Jones basically stalking Ron about the hall for twenty minutes as the elves cleared the table.
“Oh, we need to write them all individual thank you notes!” Hermione fretted. “Remind me, Draco! One for each of them! They work so hard…” Draco smiled, nodded and yes dear’ed her as he topped up her wine glass, hoping that might do the trick in helping her forget that particular little chore.
The table was cleared of cutlery and plates but the centre piece remained and the table was moved closer to one of the walls. The wood nymphs finished up their last song and Pansy wielded her wand like a weapon of mass destruction and conjured a black and slate grey stage and a dance floor.
A band were marched in by her (Draco strongly suspected she used a spell on them as they were all walking abnormally fast) and within seconds they were completely set up.
Pansy cast a Sonorous and announced they were going to have the couples first dance. Hermione finished up her wine in record time, vanished her glass and muttered something to him about needing liquid courage.
Draco, far more used to opening balls and soirees of his mothers, was much calmer and he offered her his hand, pulling her gently to the centre of the floor and into his arms. He could see Dennis Creevey out the corner of his eye, his camera flashing as he took pictures.
“Kiss her!” called Theo, but Draco had planned to anyway and did so, dipping her back in a spectacular fashion before pulling her back upright and positioning his hands more or less where was appropriate for a first dance.
Okay, it was closer to inappropriate than appropriate. His mother would be appalled but he liked grazing the very tips of his fingers on her bum as he held her. and besides Hermione was making no complaints.
They waited for the opening bars of what Draco assumed would be a traditional Pureblood wedding dance, a Viennese waltz most commonly, but he reckoned Pansy might have stuck with a more simple dance in case Hermione didn’t know the steps and turns.
The band started playing their instruments and Draco’s eyes widened as he recognised the opening song.
The one he had spun her around the Star Dome to in Fifth year when he was foolishly trying to find the words to tell her how he really felt about her. It seemed both like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at the same time.
// I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now //
He pulled her closer, his head resting on her forehead as he spun them slowly across the floor, seeing the white blur of them in the many reflected surfaces around the Great Hall, the candlelight and Muggle fairy lights glowing as they swirled and moved in the mirrors, surrounded by a sea of red, orange and pink blooms and deep green leaves.
The music swelled and other couples took their place on the dance floor, smiling and enjoying the music. Those that were Muggleborn adapted to the rhythm of the song faster than their Pureblood counterparts and Draco saw Theo and Pansy attempting to Viennese waltz to the music, but unable to match the beat.
Fred and George spun past them in each others arms, winking at Hermione as they did.
Draco closed his eyes, content just to hold his wife in his arms and get immersed completely in the moment and the rest of the world fell away as they danced and spun, her dress swirling around his legs, trapping him closer to her and her body, warm and pliant in his arms.
The song finished and Draco became aware that at some point towards the end of it they’d stopped dancing and he was simply holding her and kissing her, his hands cradling her face. Someone wolf whistled and they both laughed, their lips and noses brushing as they did and their guests clapped.
Draco pulled Hermione with him off the dance floor, determined to smooch her a little more thoroughly in a dark corner for a bit as the band moved into a faster song as the party really kicked in.
His plans were derailed when Ginny and Pansy appeared and snagged Hermione and they all excused themselves, Ginny talking a mile a minute about lipstick and touching up Hermione’s make up. Draco, personally, rather liked the just kissed swollen lips that his wife was sporting but Pansy nodded, talking about optics and photos, and Draco wisely chose not to get in the way of The Vision.
He found himself standing with Harry, Blaise and Theo, watching as everyone else danced and Luna waved her hands around like she was batting off clouds of midges to a thrashing and upbeat Muggle song.
“Are they Muggles?” Draco asked curiously of the group at large, eyeing the bands clothing which looked very un-wizardly and like something his mother would have a conniption at. There was a lot of leather and black and Merlin, was that Muggle safety pins holding together one’s clothes? He gave a small and delicate shudder.
“Squibs apparently! Pansy wanted Muggle music, said it would be very de rigeur, but we couldn’t get a sound system to work so this was the next best option.” replied Harry.
Draco nodded along, quite impressed with their music. Muggle music was always pretty modern and fun. “They’re good! What is it they’re called?” he enquired, preparing to take notes for any future events he might require a band at.
“SQUIBWARD!” said Harry, absolutely choking with laughter.
Draco wondered if Potter had consumed one too many beverages because that didn’t sound comical to him at all. Blaise and Theo must have thought the same because they all exchanged confused looks.
“How did Pansy know I liked that song? That we did? For our first dance?” Draco wondered aloud. Luna batted a little too violently around her and accidentally knocked over Trelawney, who landed in a heap on the floor, a stray fork landing with a clatter next to her having come out of her hair.
Pansy was going to oust the menace that was Trelawney the moment she reappeared, Draco thought.
Coming back to the question at hand Harry gave him a cheery wave and indicated himself. “Hermione mentioned it in passing once. I thought you seem like the sentimental sappy sort and so when we looked into first dance songs, I volunteered this one.” he said.
Harry tuck his hands in his pockets and watched in bemusement as Trelawney managed to pull her hip flask out a pocket and drink it while lying down.
Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, begrudgingly impressed with Harry. While he would never admit to being sappy and sentimental, especially not to Potter of all people, he couldn’t deny that it had been the perfect choice.
There was a small clatter as Krum rushed out through the Great Hall doors, furs flapping and one hand clamped over his backside.
“In that case Potter, I forgive your previous calamity of inviting Krum tonight.” said Draco in lieu of a thank you.
“You could just say thank you,” smirked Harry, as if he knew exactly what Draco had been thinking.
“I could not,” Draco replied obstinately.
“Just try,” teased Harry. “‘Thank you Potter for being the most marvellous help and allowing me to be a sappy bastard at my wedding reception…’” he drawled, imitating Draco’s crisp vowels and pronunciation.
Draco rolled his eyes but his lips quirked in amusement. “I’d rather rot,”
Ron appeared excitedly in front of them holding a tray of crystal glasses filled with amber liquid. “Look what I’ve got! Whiskey! And not just any whiskey either. This is Glenlivet and so deliciously aged from a cask that was said to be imbibed with magic that makes it taste so smooth and pure…”
“Sounds delicious! Gimme!” declared Theo with enthusiasm, reaching out for a glass.
Jones appeared from behind a pillar, continuing to listening intently/stalk Ron.
“Pansy, Blaise and I went to a whiskey distillery selecting drinks for tonight.” started Ron, holding the tray out so they could all take a crystal tumbler and vanishing the tray once they had one each. He held his drink up and the amber liquid winked in the lights from around the hall, casting shards onto his vivid red hair and blue eyes. “Now, the Muggles think that in the aging process there’s this thing called the ‘Angels Share,’ which like vanishes or something—“
“Evaporates,” Blaise said, nodding.
“Right, they think some of it evaporates in the distilling process. But actually, its because some local wizards break into the the distilleries and nick it—“
Blaise sighed and released Esmie from his pocket to go and terrorise Jones again as Ron continued confessing to yet more crimes.
“Pansy said we should take some and so we snuck in and this…” Ron waved the amber liquid around. “This is the result! The Angels Share! Only I did the nicking so I reckon we could call this Weasley’s share…”
Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Draco looked over his shoulder, but fortunately Jones was busy by being pounced on and aggressively chomped on by a pygmy crocodile and missed this confession.
Draco sipped the pilfered whiskey in delight. He had no such qualms with a little spot of thievery. In fact, he thought it added to the deliciousness and said so to Ron, who clinked glasses with him.
“Jesus Christ, he’ll be arrested by morning if he keeps this up,” groaned Harry.
“I’m surprised at you, Weasley. Never had you pegged for the type.” said Theo, looking like he had thoroughly underestimated Ron.
“We robbed Gringott’s and I swear up and down Ron was the brains behind the operation. He knew exactly how best to get in and had loads of strategies.” Harry snickered. Ron gave a wide grin that Draco found a little disconcerting and nodded, knocking back the full tumbler in one go.
Esmie reappeared, was scooped up and hidden back in Blaise’s pocket. Jones was on the floor somewhere behind them, sprawled out and groaning in pain. He sat up shakily, his Auror robes full of shredded holes and covered in blood and scratches. Draco could see purple spotted underpants through a huge hole in his trousers at his backside as he dragged himself upright again.
“Jones, I say! Look lively man! I know I said it was a party but this is still all in a days work,” rumbled Kingsley, as he spun past in a tartan blur with McGonagall. “No more drinking on the job! Honestly, from one extreme to the other, these young Auror’s are more hassle than it’s worth…” he continued to McGonagall as they spun away again.
Jones groaned loudly and walked shakily over to the table at the far end of the Great Hall and poured himself a large drink. Draco supposed it was for medicinal purposes. Jones' eyes watched Ron the entire time.
“Anyway, so we broke in, all quiet like. Snuck in… like a fish…” said Ron.
“What?” Draco thought he had clearly tuned into Ron's latest nonsense and misunderstood, but no Harry, Theo and Blaise were all looking at him in concern too.
“Like a fish?” asked Harry, pulling his whiskey just out of reach from where Ron was reaching for it.
“Yeah, fish could sneak. They’re all slippery,” said Ron, as if this was completely obvious and they were all rather slow on the uptake.
Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all exchanged incredulous looks and Ron took the opportunity to grab Harry’s whiskey and polish it off, burping a little afterwards.
Fred and George appeared behind him. “Come along, little brother Ronniekins. Let’s find you some fresh air and I believe they are setting up the evening snacks outside…” said Fred, winking over Ron’s shoulder at them all.
“Snacks! Oh the wood fired pizza! You know, with the pizza I had to pretend I could drive a car so I could get the pizza ovens up here. But I can only fly a car and you’d think they’d be similar, flying and driving, but you’d be wrong.” said Ron, now looking a little squiffy.
Fred and George grabbed one arm each and tried to heave Ron away, but he was taller than them both and he didn’t move an inch.
“I started driving on the wrong side of the road, but I only figured that out when I was almost run over by a lorry. Then I almost drove into three pedestrians but luckily I missed them, and then I drove straight at a tree but with a little magic it jumped out of my way. Mind you, a Muggle old lady saw me but I think I got away with it, though I do still have to drop them back off again on Monday so who knows what might happen…”
Draco sighed and he, Theo and Blaise all finished their drinks in one go. Esmie might have sighed and put her little crocodile face in her claws in despair.
“Ah Mr Weasley! Care to take a turn about the floor with an old dance partner?” asked McGonagall, appearing beside them. Harry choked back a small laugh while Ron blinked in what might have been tipsy horror.
Draco decided to take the pity on the bloke who seemed to have committed many crimes in order to help make their wedding reception a night to remember.
“Professor McGonagall, I must apologise but Weasley just volunteered, along with his brothers, to set up the next portion of the evening.”
Ron, Fred and George all murmured various litanies of apologies and scrambled away quickly.
“But I believe Ernie MacMillan is available,” said Draco, raising his voice slightly, catching the man in questions eye with a sly wink. MacMillan flushed nearby but gamely held out his arm for McGonagall.
They all breathed a sigh of relief just as a loud crash sounded from the back of the Great Hall where it seemed Ron had collided with the champagne table. The twins picked him up and quickly herded him outside.
“I need to apologise to my wife profusely and let it be known that she has the patience of a saint for dealing with that nonsense for years,” Draco said. All three men nodded and agreed, Harry stating that it was harder than he had thought to keep Ron alive.
Just at that moment Hermione and the girls reappeared, and Draco grinned before pulling his wife into his arms. Pansy sent him and Hermione off for photos with Dennis and later, with aching cheeks from smiling for so long, the photos were done, he grabbed them both drinks and spun them back onto the dance floor.
Draco had already had notions that he enjoyed Muggle dancing but he was throughly unprepared for exactly how much he liked it. He enjoyed holding Hermione against him, her back to his front as she danced and spun and he used every opportunity to hold her close against him and palm her hips. It was a far more intimate affair than ballroom dancing and he was glad of the dimmer lighting and his dark trousers covering up the evidence in his trousers of exactly how much he was affected by it.
Some long and wonderful time later as the night and party wore on, Hermione pulled Draco off the dance floor for drinks. Her cheeks were red and flushed, her hair even more wild than it had been and her skin was glowing with a light sheen of sweat. He had long since discarded his suit jacket and loosened his collar (by one button only because Pansy eyed him like she might kill him and he respected both The Vision and breathing too much to argue) and agreed with her about a drink to cool down.
They stepped up to the bar and Draco insisted Hermione have some water along with her order of wine, and she gulped it back, pressing the cool glass into her wrists, her eyes shining as she watched their friends dancing and enjoying themselves.
“Is it everything you would have wanted it to be?” Draco asked her softly, untangling one of her curls from her flower crown.
“It’s so much better.” Hermione said as she beamed up at him. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” and then she kissed him long and slow, her tongue stroking his, her body pressed up tightly in his arms. He may, or may not, have had both of his hands on her arse.
Okay, he definitely did.
She pulled back and grinned at him, biting her lower lip and Draco groaned watching her.
They sipped their drinks, watching as their friends danced to a whole host of Muggle music. Ernie Macmillan was dancing enthusiastically with his tie now tied around his head to something called the Macarena with none of his usual pompousness. In fact his hip thrusts were positively lewd. Dennis wandered in and out through the crowd, taking candids and posed photos of their friends as they were presented to him.
The band finished up and called time for their break and Pansy directed the party goers outside. They moved gratefully into the cooler night air, the sky a dark and uninterrupted blue, sparkling with stars. Draco muttered to Hermione that he wondered if Pansy had threatened the weather itself with compromising The Vision and Hermione giggled, only admonishing him when Pansy stepped up beside them and showed them to there seats.
They stepped outside, the night air blissfully soothing on their heated skin and Pansy directed them into a large courtyard with a stone balcony which in the daytime was used for the teachers as a private outdoor lounge that offered sweeping views of the grounds. In the centre of the grass was an enormous bonfire, crackling and snapping against the night sky in shades of orange, red and yellow. Lights twinkled further up in the castle and every now and then he could see the silhouette of curious students from wherever they had sneaked off to, to watch the nights events.
The heat of the bonfire washed over the courtyard but Pansy had draped blankets over the chairs incase anyone got a little too chilly. The decorations from inside had been continued outside but only around the stone balcony. There were a few small stands of the floral arrangements and candles sat on circular wooden tables. He could see the pizza ovens glowing at one end, tended to by a couple of elves and he spied the gangly figure of Ron polishing off several slices.
There was a table loaded with party snacks; Macaroni cheese bowls topped with garlic breadcrumbs, wood fired pizza and, deliciously, hot plates of chips and condiments to eat with them.
Draco offered Hermione chips and she lit up with enthusiasm. He summoned a plate each and added salt, vinegar to his and, inexplicably, curry sauce to Hermione’s portion. She seemed to have had consumed enough wine that she was less concerned about stains on her dress, and Draco chose not to argue the logic of why curry sauce was acceptable but tomato sauce was not, because surely they were equally as staining to her dress.
Hermione was more relaxed and that was the main thing. Besides, Pansy’s clothing charms were legendary and wouldn’t fail and he was glad to see Hermione soak up some of her drinks with something hot and filling.
They settled back into a table just the two of them just as Fred and George cast a sonorous and started a spiel.
“Good evening, ladies and gents!” began Fred. At least he thought it was Fred. Which one was the earless twin again? George. That was it.
Ron burped loudly and the crowd chuckled.
“And good evening ickle Ronniekins, who’s mission tonight is to consume as much food as humanly possible,” continued George smoothly. Ron gave a congenial wave to the crowd holding a slice of pizza in his hand as he did.
“So, we questioned what to get our favourite bookworm and her pet ferret for a wedding gift,” said Fred, winking in his general direction. Draco rolled his eyes and allowed Hermione to take his hand and sweep her thumbs over the skin, soothing him because she knew how much he really disliked the ferret jokes.
Cheers and laughter came from three quarters of the guests assembled while the remainder, those on his side, frowned frostily. Draco was utterly surprised to see McGonagall purse her lips in dislike and mutter something about ‘a terrible example of an improper use of magic’ to Shacklebolt.
Well, that was a strange turn up for the books but he felt slightly bolstered because McGonagall was right; it was a diabolical misuse of magic.
“We didn’t think either of them would appreciate a Potion to permanently charm her husbands hair into a different colour for every day of the week, nor our latest Extended Daydream Charms, suitable and deliberately formulated for those long and drawn out boring detentions polishing trophies with Filch. Side effects may include drooling and—“
“Thank you, Mr Weasley,” interrupted McGonagall, who had conjured a megaphone and was eyeing them beadily.
“Right you are, Minnie! But while we are here, all products featured tonight can be bought at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes…”
“Fred and George—“ warned McGonagall.
“That’s Gred and Forge to you, Minnie,” winked Earless Twin.
McGonagall’s eyes flashed in warning and several sparks flew from Pansy’s wand.
Both twins gulped in fear at the latter, rather than the former, and scrambled hastily to reassure an irate looking Pansy.
“Ah, not to worry Parkinson, we too absolutely appreciate The Vision. And so without further ado, please enjoy your evenings entertainment!” and with that both twins raised their wands and sent two enormous flaming arrows flying at top speed to a ginormous box on the lawns.
The arrows landed and engulfed the box in flames which then detonated with an explosion of multicoloured flashes and the bonfire blazed higher, sending dancing sparks higher into the night air that started spinning and dancing against the night sky.
The fireworks roared to life and a menagerie of magical firework creatures burst from the box, soaring and spinning in the air around them to gasps of delight and wonder from the crowd.
Twin Antipodean Opaleye Dragons rose in lazy circles and then flew in tandem together, looping and turning in and under each others enormous wings before exploding into smaller firework bursts. They twirled and reshaped into of clouds of Fwoopers that took flight and rushed around the nearby towers of the castle, spinning and swirling around the turrets and then bursting into random explosions of different colours.
More fireworks erupted from the box in a smoky haze of Gryffindor red and Slytherin green and Draco heard Hermione gasp as two firework embodiments of their younger selves appeared in the night sky; two figures of their first year selves in ever moving sparkles.
‘Wait until my father hears about this,’ came the echo of Draco's voice in years long past, to huge merriment from the crowd. Blaise howled with laughter and wiped his eyes, grinning over at Draco like that was the best thing he had seen in years.
Meanwhile the younger figure of Hermione looked like she had just rolled her eyes at his firework counterpart and crossed her arms as she stated ‘I’m going to bed before either of you have another idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.’
Draco and their guests burst into laughter and he tucked his wife fondly into his chest, dropping a kiss to her temple and chuckling into her ear, asking if she had really said that. Hermione stubbornly shook her head but Draco knew that if he plied Weasley with another drink he might spill the beans and whispered as much in her ear.
“Blimey ‘Mione, I forgot you were even more crazy back then!” called Ron, his eyes finally off his pizza and on the firework display.
An enormous spear of multicoloured light exploded directly upwards from the box, scattering outwards like a flower in blossom before spinning counter clockwise faster and faster in a Catherine wheel, gaining momentum and speed. The colours blurred together so quickly that they became unable to distinguish individual shades before they blurred to show a large shimmering screen.
An image of them both laughing that Draco recognised as one of their first taken together filled the screen before slipping through an assortment of photographs, each looping once or twice before spinning onto the next one. The images followed the general trajectory of their relationship throughout school, interspersed with a few from the evening of them and their guests.
Draco laughed at one of Hermione from some time in Fifth year sneezing so hard that the elastic band of her ponytail snapped and her curls exploded around her head. The image spun onto another from that evening of Ron holding aloft his drinks while Jones peered at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed, from behind a bush. Another appeared of Draco fast asleep at some point in Sixth year, face down on his desk where he had been arranging his photos.
The last image appeared and was one of them from their actual wedding in Edinburgh, both of them beaming at each other and in tears the moment they realised the magic had worked and Draco’s Betrothal Contract was no loner valid.
The remaining magical creatures flew off around the grounds and a final explosion from the box had the night sky emblazoned with the message ‘congratulations Draco and Hermione’ in a blaze of red, green, gold and silver.
The box boomed one final explosion and thousands of tiny sparks scattered into the air and their guests burst into applause. Fred and George took several bows and one of them seized the opportunity to float order forms onto every table from his pocket, which Draco could see several people immediately filling out.
“That was incredible,” said Hermione softly, wiping a tear away from her eye. Draco tore his attention away from a small dragon that looped he loop above them and then sailed on into the Great Hall, snapping and breathing flames.
He grinned at her and pulled her into standing and they both stepped over to thank the twins who were now inundated with interested buyers. McGonagall stepped up to them and both twins flinched nervously, clearly anticipating a verbal lashing, but she winked and handed them her own well filled order form.
“Minnie we knew you were on board with our mischief!” one of them cried in delight and they both got onto their knees pretending to worship her.
Draco blinked in shock seeing McGonagall actually blush before she wandered off, saying she needed another Gillywater.
“Minnie you forever have my heart!” Earless Twin called after her as the other fervently nodded, scanning her order form.
As the party wore down some of their guests began to trail away. Luna offered her apologies and skipped off not long after the fireworks, stating that she needed to go for an early morning swim with the Giant Squid and mustn’t be too tired.
McGonagall and the remaining faculty offered their last congratulations and slipped away too, needing to be awake the next morning for the pupils. Draco suspected half the castle were still awake and that most of them had sneaked out their common rooms to watch the firework display.
Shacklebolt stopped by and gave Hermione a hug and surprisingly, a handshake for Draco. Shacklebolt rolled his eyes when he saw Jones asleep with a slice of pizza in one hand, a glass of something alcoholic in the other and with his Auror robes till shredded and bloodied.
“Can’t take the man, anywhere. So much for ‘personal detail service’ from the Auror’s…” he rolled his eyes as he hoisted Jones over his shoulder.
“No! I must find out his secrets! That Weasley… he’s up to something… “ Jones’ words trailed off and he let out a loud snore.
“Poor man doesn’t know what he’s saying,” said Shacklebolt, carrying him out as he made for the Floo.
Trelawney was asleep under the table, her hip flask and striped stockings on display.
The band played slower songs as the evening wound down and their guests slowly drifted off to their beds.
Before long it was Draco and Hermione, Harry, Theo, Blaise and Pansy sat around the table, sipping the last of their drinks. Pansy sighed and eased off her shoes, much to Theo’s general squawking about decorum and how he thought she claimed that stiletto’s were like walking on clouds. Pansy smirked and shushed him, stretching her tired feet and she sighed in relief when Blaise cast a cooling charm on them.
When enquires came about Weasley’s whereabouts Harry told them Ron had fallen asleep outside clutching the last of his pizza and wrapped in several blankets. The twins had levitated him off to bed when they packed up the last of their fireworks.
Hermione took off her flower crown and tucked herself up sleepily against Draco’s chest, no longer really engaged in conversation but content to listen as Theo and Blaise performed some ditties with a ukulele that one of them had procured.
After a while Draco glanced down and realised Hermione had dozed off on his shoulder and he gave her a small nudge. “My love? Bedtime perhaps?”
Hermione stirred awake, stretched and nodded, blinking up sleepily at him.
“Wait you can’t go yet! We have to perform one last song!” cried Theo, holding the ukulele aloft in despair.
“I think not,” said Draco, helping Hermione to her feet and taking her hand, only to wrap her in closely to his side as she swayed in exhaustion.
“But you’ll love it!” declared Theo as he turned to their group of friends. “You’ll never guess what I found!” he said, and his eyes gleamed in fiendish delight.
There was a dramatic pause and he heaved in a great breath, ready to make an announcement. “I found Draco's sappy teenage poetry and have put to to music! And so… “ he strummed his ukulele vigorously to the general gasps of mischievous delight from their friends although Draco’s gasp, along with Potter’s, was one of pure horror.
“Feelings… nothing more than feeeeelings,” began Theo, as he danced around in front of them.
“I didn’t write that!” Draco vehemently denied in outrage. He was exceedingly glad Dennis had gone to bed and that nobody was capturing this on camera.
“Oh poppycock!” scoffed Theo, starting a jaunty tune.
Oh save my heart what have I done?
I’ve gone and fallen in love with a Muggleborn…
“THEO!” shouted Draco in horror, trying to cover his wife’s ears but it seemed she was now wide awake and she fought him off, laughing in delight.
The pain and strife
What is my life
My father will curse the day I was borrrrn !
And yet I cannot stop
I saw the witch and my heart went flip-flop
My heart is hers
I need to think of a rhyme for this verse…
Now off to kiss Hermione I go with a hooooop…
“THEO I SWEAR TO MERLIN—!” growled Draco furiously.
Theo continued undeterred:
Her eyes are like pools of golden caramel
I adore this witch, I think she’s swell
I like to kiss her lips
I love her tits—
Pansy summoned the parchment Theo was singing from. “Theo, you are spoiling The Vision with this buffoonery! But please, continue with this tomorrow in the common room. I’m rather enjoying listening to Draco’s terrible teenage writings.” she smirked.
“I DIDN’T BLOODY WRITE THAT!” bellowed Draco. The group laughed at him, clearly not believing a word he said. He turned back to Hermione. “My love, I swear, I wouldn’t write anything so crass about you…”
Hermione nodded and made soothing noises at him but Draco caught her rolling her eyes at Harry and chuckling.
Draco growled crossly and and with that he pulled Hermione after him, ignoring Harry and Blaise who were now drunkenly singing terrible poetry at his back while Theo continued to strum away.