Thank for taking the time to click on this story.
This would be my take on a marriage fic. To be fair, I probably don't write it well and my main source of information is from chick flicks with montage scenes set to the soundtrack of Celine Dion. Never the less, I hope you enjoy.
Dislaimer: Anything you wish were yours, I wish were mine too.
When he asked her to marry him, she laughed at him so loudly that the whole café thought she was psychotic. When she agreed, he almost fainted and the shocked expression didn't leave his face for a good three weeks.
Narcissa was thrilled, Lucius not so much. Hermione's parents smiled silently in the background.
The wedding was planned and set for the twenty fourth of March –four months time. From the beginning, she knew that letting Narcissa Malfoy plan her wedding was going to encourage premature hair loss. Hermione's choices were never good enough; lilies were unacceptable for a Malfoy wedding, as well as fairy lights. In fact, the first three themes she suggested for the wedding were ruled out as inappropriate. Apparently, Malfoy's didn't hold themed weddings.
Disgruntled one day, Hermione plastered a sour look onto her face, sat in the library and looked up hexes. Turning the minister into a frog sounded very appealing. As well as making everyone talk backwards.
"Granger," Malfoy sighed, appearing from behind a shelf. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
She didn't say anything, but continued flicking the pages of the tome viciously.
He moved towards her. "Granger, mother needs you to try on the dress."
Making a sound that resembled half a growl and half a whimper, she threw the textbook onto the table.
Malfoy glanced at her. "Come on Granger, show a little bit more respect to my books. After all, in another few months, they'll be half yours."
Rubbing her forehead, as if trying to wipe away a headache, Hermione accepted Malfoy's outstretched hand and stood to her full height.
Sighing, she mumbled, "Don't even remind me."
"Oh come on, being married to me can't be that bad, can it?"
"If it weren't for that stupid Marriage Law, I'd be at home right now, with a good book or some runes to decode."
Malfoy made a face, halfway between someone in pain and someone who had just heard that chocolate held traces of cow dung. "That's an afternoon of fun for you?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes, what of it?"
"Being married to you is going to be a bore."
"Well, I'm not about to proclaim my love for you either. I'm doing this as a favour to you."
Malfoy drew her hand to his mouth, letting his lips skim her knuckles. "And for that, I am especially grateful."
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from his grasp. "Oh please, that move only works on Pansy Parkinson."
"You love it," he grinned, unable to keep his face straight.
"In your dreams, weasel boy."
That made him splutter, choking a strained, "What?"
"Well," Hermione smiled, "The ferret is a member of the weasel family. So you and Ron really do have a lot of things in common."
Draco frowned, mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Don't compare me to that fire crotch!"
Hermione stopped and looked deep in thought. "Fire crotch? That's new; good one Malfoy."
She left Malfoy standing in the library, glaring at the floorboards as he wondered if he really had much in common with Ronald Weasley.
Reaching the drawing room, Hermione spotted a dress that was laid out on one of the couches. It really was a lovely dress, she could see that. The colour was a clear, crisp white, not a yellowing white nor a blinding spotlight.
It's a wedding dress, she told herself. It's my wedding dress.
"Yes, if you could just slip that on." Narcissa Malfoy's appointed designer wafted into the room, a measuring tape attached around his neck like a boa constrictor. A pair of glasses designed to make the wearer look more educated and sophisticated was perched carefully on his high, probably aristocratic nose.
"Sure," Hermione muttered quietly, feeling less glittery and sparkly than the man in front of her. His steps were jumpy, as if he had stuck springs to the soles of his shoes and his hair large in such a way that if he weren't a fashion designer, it would just look like mental illness.
The gown was a bit large around the arms and too long. There was a bit too much space in her chest area and not enough around her hips. Never the less, it was a wedding dress and Hermione was going to wear it, come rain, hail or shine.
Narcissa breezed into the room. "Oh dear, my old dress doesn't quite sit as well does it?"
Face flaming and heavily embarrassed at having an older woman compare their figures, Hermione tried to shimmy out of the dress.
"Stop!" Pierre shouted, bounding towards her, pulling the measuring tape from his neck. "I need to measure to make the appropriate changes."
Hermione froze, hand halfway to the zipper. "Right, okay."
As Pierre the crazed designer flew about her in a flurry, she wondered why he couldn't just use magic to correctly indentify her measurements. As the measuring tape wound all over random parts of her body, she noticed a movement towards the entrance of the room. Draco Malfoy leaned against the doorframe; in a way that he thought was sexy albeit, it made him look more like pervert instead. His grin stretched and all that she could see for a moment was his white teeth.
"Don't you know its bad luck for the groom to see the-"
Draco snickered, "I hardly think our wedding can attract anymore bad luck."
Hermione closed her mouth and watched as Narcissa moved towards her son, smoothing down his shirt and smiling gently to him as he squared his shoulders proudly. It was an intense moment and Hermione felt as if she were the proverbial elephant in the room. In the dress, she certainly felt like an elephant and opted to turn her attention to one of the windows.
"Now, the wedding is in less than two months. We have to organise the seating arrangements."
"Finished!" Pierre proclaimed loudly and wrote down the last numbers into his purple book. "You may get changed now."
Relaxing her shoulders, Hermione gathered the large skirt around her and made to exit the room. Draco followed her into his room where she had previously changed so she grabbed her clothing, shoot him a dirty look and retreated into the bathroom. As she eased the zipper down, she heard him on the other side.
"Right, seating arrangement."
She rolled her eyes. "We can't sit Ginny next to Blaise."
She frowned at his blatant ignorance. "Do you want them to start making babies at our wedding?"
"I didn't know their affections were that…strong."
Hermione slipped the dress over her head and without warning, pain shot from her scalp. A small curl of frizzy brown hair had been caught in the zipper and Hermione's head was still stuck inside the dress. Pulling the offending garment away from her face, her hair still stuck to the dress, she shrieked in annoyance.
"What?" Malfoy burst through the door, concern etched carefully onto his pale face.
Upon seeing Hermione's predicament, he burst into howls of laughter, "Hogwarts smartest witch, my behind. How did you manage that?"
Shooting a glare in his direction, she growled, "Just help me out will you?"
Painfully aware that her chest was bare, she grabbed a t-shirt and held it over her upper body.
"I hope that wasn't on my account," Draco smirked as her dug his wand out of his black suit jacket.
Muttering a spell, Hermione's hair and the dress broke contact.
Her face flushed a brilliant red. "Alright, thanks. You can leave now."
But Draco showed no signs of leaving. Instead, he moved towards her, his chest inches from hers.
"Don't tell me you feel nothing now," his face a perfection of seriousness as he asked.
She shook her head and looked down at her hands, the large diamond ring on her fourth finger. In fact, she could feel everything. The butterflies in her stomach, the craziness in her heartbeat and the sheer agitation in her breathing.
"Don't you dare tell me you feel nothing."
Let me know what you think!
Reviews are much appreciated.