Their Greatest Mistake

Sorry for the delay! I'm an awful person!

**

After the deed was done and the real hustle and bustle of preparing for the party (or Operation Tell Your Worst Enemy That You’re Married To His Best Friend, as Draco liked to call it) began, time flew by quickly. Before either of them knew it, Charlotte had informed Hermione that the Weasleys and Harry had arrived, and the Order members were arriving by the minute.

From the bay window in their room, Hermione could see the faint shadows of everyone enjoying themselves and admiring the house and garden while still being confused as to why they were there. She was wearing her floral dress and light pink peep toed pumps, and her hair was tied in a delicate knot on top of her head. Around her neck was a diamond pendent in the shape of the letter “M,” a gift from Narcissa, who had said that if she refused to wear the Malfoy emeralds in her ears (she was wearing the Saxe-Coburg sapphires), then she at least needed to wear something Malfoy-esque.

When Draco came out of the bathroom with Max, his personal servant, he saw Hermione sitting in the window seat watching everyone. Moving to stand beside her, he dismissed Max and asked, “Are you ready?”

Both of them knew that this simple phrase did not mean if she was dressed for the party. He was asking if she was ready to go down, face her friends, and tell them that she while they thought her name was Hermione Jane Granger, it was, in fact, Hermione Jane Granger Malfoy. He was asking her if she could look her best friends in the eye and tell them that she was deeply in love with Draco Malfoy. He was asking her if she was ready to begin the charade.

She looked up, deep into his eyes, and murmured, “Yes. I am.”

**

Down on the terrace, Alfred, the Upper Butler, had just asked the guests to all make their way inside to the Informal Dining Room, which was, in reality, half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts and could fit all of the guests, although there were about thirty. Once they were all seated according to their place cards (Ron remarked to Harry, “Mate, she even invited Pansy to this thing. I think she’s really forgiven me” upon seeing his girlfriend’s name next to his, and she arrived but moments later, thoroughly confused.), Benjamin called their attention to the closed door.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Their Graces -- ” a few tittered at the plural form of his words “ – the Duchess of Windsor, Her Grace Hermione Malfoy -- ” Ron began to cry out obscenities “ – and her husband, the Duke of Windsor, His Grace Draco Malfoy.”

When they entered the room, her arm entwined in his, the noise immediately stopped in shock. Ron’s mouth fell open, Pansy beamed at them before waving her hand in front of her boyfriend’s eyes to get his attention, Harry’s mouth formed words like, “The bloody wanker I’ll kill him,” and even Professor McGonagall was reduced to shock.

The only ones not affected were Ginny, Blaise, and Dumbledore, who had shown up despite not receiving an invitation (purposefully, of course). Ginny and Dumbledore beamed at them, while Blaise smiled haughtily, his own version of beaming.

When they reached their seats at the head of the table, Hermione looked around and tried not to burst into tears. “Good evening, and welcome to our home,” she began, and it was only Draco’s reassuring squeeze of her hand that kept her from breaking down. “I can not even being to explain the joy I feel at being able to finally tell you all of the love Draco and I share. It has been hard to hide from you, but we believed it would be for the best, for both of our safeties.

“As you are aware, at the end of this month, we will be hosting a party at Malfoy Manor, which is actually going to be a wedding party, where the rest of the Wizarding World will find out about us, although I am sure the rumors will already be flying by then. It is to be held the Saturday before we leave for Hogwarts, where Draco and I will be Head Boy and Girl, and we would appreciate it if all of you, our closest friends and family, could be there to support us.”

She took a steadying breath, and after looking at the shocked faces again, felt that she would cry. Except, there it was, a smile from Mr. Weasley. A smile that said, “Well, go on then, I can’t change the past so I’m going to enjoy the future.” If the Weasley patriarch could smile at her like that, then maybe he, along with his daughter, could convince his family that things would be alright after all.

Hope spread through her from her toes until it reached her face, and she smiled, a genuine smile, as she said, “For now, though, please enjoy the food, and afterwards we will retire to the Red Sitting Room where perhaps Miss Parkinson would be so kind as to reward us with a little music for dancing?”

Both Hermione and Pansy knew that this, like Draco’s question earlier, was a question with double meanings. This was Hermione accepting her as Draco’s best girl friend, and as her possible girl friend. This was Pansy accepting Hermione as Draco’s wife, and as her possible girl friend. They both knew that if Pansy declined, one of Hermione’s servants could play while they danced.

With baited breath, Hermione waited as Pansy stood up, her emerald chiffon robes swaying a little as she did so. “Pansy, please, Your Grace, and it would be my honor.”

“Hermione, please, Pansy,” she replied, and with that, dinner began.

**

Dinner had been a pleasant, if not strained, affair. When the last dish had been taken away by their extremely well trained staff, Draco stood up, helped Hermione out of his chair, and offered her his arm. “Excuse me, may I please have your attention?” Hermione called unnecessarily (no one was really talking much at all, despite Draco, Hermione, Ginny, and Blaise’s attempts to make conversation).

“Thank you,” she continued. “If you would care to join us in the Red Sitting Room now, we would be most pleased.” She flashed a nervous smile, and they led the way out, but not before they saw Pansy hissing at Ron to help her out of her chair.

In the end, curiosity overran the guests, and they followed their hosts quickly, aside from one. Harry sat, sulking, in the Informal Dining Room. Pansy had dragged Ron along with her to turn the pages of her piano music, Ginny had told him that she was going to support their friend and not act like a baby, and both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had decided to do the same.

It was wrong, it all was. First Ron and then Hermione – or was it the other way around? – had fallen for a Slytherin. And not just any Slytherins, the very worst. The most prejudiced. But are they really? the little voice inside his head kept asking him. Malfoy seems to be really in love with Hermione. And Pansy didn’t mentioned anything along the lines of “That’s what Mudbloods do” when Ron told her that Hermione had left without a word, he reminded himself.

The music and chatter from the party was floating down the hall, and, feeling very much like a little child whose parents were hold an adult-only party, Harry crept towards it. Briefly he Disillusioned himself, and stepped into the doorway to see what was going on better.

In one corner, Mrs. Weasley, Madam Malfoy, Professor McGonagall, and the other female teachers sat laughing over some sort of story that was clearly hilarious, judging by the uncontrollable laughter. The adult men – namely Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore, Remus, and the male teachers, including, Harry noted sourly, Snape – stood out on the balcony smoking cigars and murmuring. At the piano sat one of Hermione’s servants, who played a gavotte.

It only took one look at the dancing couples – Ron and Pansy, Draco and Hermione, Blaise and Ginny – for Harry to feel ashamed. He should be supporting Hermione and be there dancing with his girlfriend, not standing disguised looking in on the scene! He stepped out of sight, reversed the spell, and then joined the laughing couples.

“Excuse me, Blaise, but would you mind if I dance with my girlfriend now?” he asked, as politely as he could while still stressing ‘my.’ Ginny beamed at him as her partner passed her over, thanked Blaise for the dance, and continued on gaily with Harry.

“It’s about time, you know,” she whispered. “But no worries, I’ve forgiven you.”

Harry snorted. “Oh really, have you? Lucky me!” he mocked, and she rolled her eyes.

She was having a grand time, and wasn’t going to let her sulking boyfriend ruin that.

**

Well? Thoughts?

xx
Suzz