Written in Blood

"Well," said Harry, looking hiiendiend over carefully from head to toe, "I think there's no doubt about it." He shook his head very slowly.

"What?" Hermione asked, nearly in a panic. "No doubt about wh

Harry broke out into a grin. "That you're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen."

She seemed to glow with happiness, he reflected. Hermione stood in the middle of the boys' dormitory (the boys couldn't get into the girls') in the most beautiful wedding gown ever to make its way into Hogwarts. The front of her gown (Snape had pushed for dress robes, but was overruled by Hermione's mother, as the bride herself would have been content with either) gently brushed the floor as she swished gently from side to side, looking at herself in a floor-length mirror she had summoned. Her veil, which was lying on the bed, matched the lace of the sleeves of her dress exactly, and the same material was used to overlay the train of her dress, which was the same satin as the rest of her gown. The dress was not pale blue, as Hermione had favored, but white. "Not eggshell, not ivory, not off-white, white!" her mother had insisted. Many people considered her mother to be overbearing when it came to the wedding, but Hermione understood perfectly. Her father's parents hadn't wanted their son to marry a non-Catholic, so her parents had eloped, and her mother had never gotten the wedding she had always dreamed of. And all her chances so far of living vicariously through her daughter had been thwarted, as she had never even dreamed of becoming a witch.

The wedding was to be an odd sort of blend of magic traditions and muggle traditions, in an attempt to integrate everyone at the wedding. The vows, to Hermione's surprise, were nearly identical in both traditions. It made sense, though, she reasoned, as muggle-wizard weddings must not be so uncommon as all that. Look at Seamus's parents!

She swished idly back and forth in front of the mirror, with Harry openly admiring her (he was allowed--every girl should be admired on her wedding day!) until Harry broke the silence.

"Hermione," he said a little uncomfortably, "not to step on your day, but I do have a question. Did you ever tell Ron that you were breaking up with him?"

Hermione gave him a dirty look. Ron had been openly debating whether he should even attend her wedding, and his name was rather mud at the moment with Hermione. "I rather think he's figured that one out by now, Harry. Do give him a little credit!"

"Yeah, well, that's not really the point. And it isn't that he's jealous---well, it isn't mostly that he's jealous. He knows that you two weren't right for each other. Only, most guys like to be told by the girl they're dating that they've broken up, before the girl goes and attaches herself to someone else, is all I'm saying. Did you tell him?"

Frowning a little, she answered slowly, "No, I don’t think I did. Everything just happened so fast, with Snape, and the…wedding, and all." Both she and Harry knew she was about to say 'baby', but also knew that the subject had been unofficially declared taboo for the day. Things became a little clearer for her now. "So, do you mean that's why he's been acting so terribly? Not because I threw him over for Severus---oh, don't flinch, just get used to it!---but because I didn't notify him first?"

Harry nodded. "I think that's about the sum of it. It's a guy thing, understand."

Hermione ed. ed. "Well, if it'll make him feel better, I will actually apologize to him. On my wedding day." She dropped her scowl for a moment, and looked at Harry earnestly. "Do you think if I do he'll come?" No matter how they quarreled, or what had happened, she desperately wanted Ronald Weasley at her wedding. As it was, he was the only Weasley, apart from Percy, that had not already promised to attend. Even Charlie was coming, all the way from Romania (rumor said on dragonback).

Harry smiled, and grasped her shoulder. "He'll come, Hermione, whether you apologize or not. But I daresay," he said, heading for the door to find Ron for her, "that he'll be a bit better behaved if you do!"

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Hermione passed the rest of the day until two o'clock rather in a haze, being bombarded with countless owls of well-wishing and 'yes-I-will-be-there' or 'no-so-sorry-cannot-attend'. She had constant visitors in the boys' room (word got about quickly in Hogwarts, and her hiding place was no help at all), including, to her surprise, several Hufflepuffs, a few Ravenclaws, and even one Slytherin.

"What are you doing here," she demanded crossly of Draco Malfoy as he walked into the room. "Why did they let you in through the common room?" Even after he had renounced ties to Voldemort in their sixth year, he was still not on her list of favorite people.

The blonde boy, however, didn't seem at all put off by her brusque manner. In fact, she noticed, he looked strangely in earnest. "Because I have a message from the Headmaster to be given to you in person," he replied, and began to systematically check the room for anyone hiding. Finally, he seemed satisfied that they weren't being watched, and turned to face her. "You should know that you are in bit of danger," he told her without preamble.

Hermione sat down hard on the bed. "What do you mean," she demanded. "Danger from whom?"

"My father is still a dangerous man," Draco began, but she interrupted him.

"What does he have to do with anything? Why should he care if I'm marrying Snape?"

Draco smiled grimly, and she reflected that she hadn't seen him this serious since the last days of the war. He hadn't even made one snide remark about her wedding dress. "Because a good friend of my father's," he continued, "is Mrs. Selima Snape. Your new mother-in-law."

"But…" Hermione was nearly at a loss. "But we didn't even tell her we were getting married! How can she be angry if she doesn't know?"

"I told you," Draco snapped. "She's a friend of my father's!" He sat down beside her, and she did not flinch away. "Now, you can be assured that whatever they do attempt, it will be subtle. Father has to be careful now that he doesn’t have the backing of either Voldemort or the Ministry. And Mrs. Snape never did, so that's some small comfort."

Hermione had to agree--that was indeed small comfort. Something occurred to her. "Did you warn Severus?"

"Yes," Draco told her, "but we think he'll be safe. Lucius knows better than to attack him, and Mrs. Snape has no motive. It'll be you they aim at."

"Oh," she said weakly, "that's good, then."

Draco took hold of her arm. "Now, just be careful going and coming places, and there's nothing that can happen. You should know that they don't intend to kill you, even if they do lay hands on you."

"Why?" she asked him. "Why do they care whether I live or not?"

He gave her a look. "I presume you know about the contract?" At her nod, he went on. "Then you know you have to have this child, or Mrs. Snape's household ceases to exist. So their only motive would be to hurt you, very badly. And I truly don't think you fiancée" he smirked a little at the word, reminding her a bit of his old self, "would allow that to happen. Just keep alert, don't accept any food or drink--or anything, for that matter--from someone you don't absolutely trust, and keep close to Snape, Dumbledore, Potter, a Weasley, or, well, me, at all times." He looked at her very seriously. "Any of those wizards will protect you at any cost."

Without any more than that, he abruptly rose from the bed and out of the room, leaving her a little nervous, and a little comforted, and more than a little confused.

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Eleven-thirty.

Noon.

Twelve-fifteen.

Twelve-thirty.

Twelve forty-five.

Finally One o'clock rolled around, and her honor guard of Harry, Ron (whom she had apologized to), and Ginny, all of whom had been informed of her new predicament, came upstairs to escort her down to the Great Hall, where the ceremony was to be held.