Their Greatest Mistake

I'm very, very sorry for taking this long to update. But here is a very long chapter that I hope with appease you.

**
Hermione ran through Malfoy Manor until she was thoroughly lost. She slowed her pace and looked out of a nearby double window only to see that she was two floors up and overlooking the very place and man that she had just left. Absentmindedly, she traced her fingers on the panes, looking at Draco slumped forward in his chair, his face in his hands.

A sigh escaped her lips, and tears filled her eyes. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. The party was tomorrow, and she knew that the two of them had to make up by then. She knew that she should be the one to apologize, but the stubborn Gryffindor lion in her wanted to icily ignore him until he did. That wasn’t going to happen, though, and she unfortunately knew that.

She leaned against the window pain in frustration, and when she closed her eyes, unshed tears pricked at them. Hastily, she wiped them before they fell, and then she stared resolutely into space.

“I can’t go on this way,” she muttered. Slowly, she picked her way through the Manor until she realized where she was, and then went straight to the Library. She needed some time to think.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, the party for a married couple would begin half an hour after the wedding itself, and would begin with the wedding party entering the room and their names and relations to the couple being announced for all of the guests to hear.

This was not, of course, normal circumstances. And so, one month after the wedding itself, 367 guests were congregating in Malfoy Manor in their fancy dress robes and awaiting the most talked about couple since, well, Lily and James had died, or even Frank and Alice Longbottom had lost their minds. Granted, everyone thought that they had lost their minds.

Which was, of course, why many of them were there. They wanted, no, needed, to know what had happened. Did Draco Malfoy really marry at the age of seventeen? And did he really marry Hermione Granger? And was she really related to the Muggle royal family? There were just too many unanswered questions for Society to stay away.

Everybody who was anybody was there, and some people were made an anybody by being invited. Most of Society for years to come was created by this particular party: Parvati Patil, future fashion icon and model for Chloë Oliver, was there, as well as Luna Lovegood, future editor of The Quibbler, the only magazine for reliable facts. There were others like them who made connections that would change their lives forever, and there were those like Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini who had been in the public eye since their coming out at age sixteen.

But this was different, and everyone knew it. People had been arriving for about an hour before the expected debut of Their Graces, and there were photographers and reporters from The Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, The Quibbler, OK! (what, you thought it was a Muggle magazine?), and more had been outside the wards for hours.

From their rooms in the manor, Hermione was shaking as she viewed the carriages led by winged horses bringing guests up the drive from the gate where the Apparation point was. She knew that somewhere in some of the carriages were her friends, who supported her and who would help make this night memorable, in a good way, and bearable.

Draco came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Somehow, they had forgiven each other. Words were not said about the matter, but when the two had met again, Draco had hugged her, and she had melted into his embrace, sobbing. Words weren’t needed to show how sorry they both were, although that wasn’t saying that Hermione hadn’t tried.

After a few moments by the window watching the guests roll in, Draco turned away to get changed. “It’s almost time, Hermione,” he whispered in her ears. She nodded, and magicked her French twist to stay while she put her dress robes on. They stood together in the middle of the room, gathering their strength and examining each other appraisingly.

Suddenly, Penny, one of the House Elves, appeared and cleared her little throat. “Master and Mistress, it is time,” she squeaked, and Hermione lost all color in her face. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.

Draco cupped her cheek. “Now, what kind of Gryffindor are you?” he teased. At the look on her face, which was part terror and part annoyance, he smiled and affectionately kissed her nose. “I’m joking, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and his eyes bright.

Penny coughed again, and the two of them turned to her, hand and hand, and walked out the door.

* * *

Ginny and Blaise stood at the top of a grand marble staircase, at the point where three corridors collided, although one of them was behind a set of ornate doors, and looked down at the 365 people below them, all in their finery. Blaise wore pinstriped, tight-fitting robes that, if Ginny didn’t know better, she’d think they were Muggle. For her part, she wore a floor-length white chiffon dress that tied around her neck and then criss-crossed to her breasts, where it fell away in ruffles. The back was open to her waist, and her red hair was pinned up in a way that was supposed to look haphazard, but had really taken hours to perfect.

With her arm on Blaise’s Ginny received the visual cue from one of the House Elves that was waiting in the corner to begin her prepared speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my and Blaise’s delight to welcome you to the wedding party of our best friend’s, Their Graces Hermione and Draco Malfoy,” she said, her voice clear as it echoed across the filled hall.

“Because they decided to elope instead of dealing with all of the fuss that a normal wedding brings, this party is being held tonight, exactly one month after the wedding itself on July 30, 1997,” she continued.

Blaise took over. “As their best friends, Ginny and I are pleased to welcome you all to their home. Please enjoy yourself, but do not be too offended if you are asked to leave once it reaches four in the morning. After all, Their Graces do have to attend Hogwarts on Monday!” Some laughter was heard in the crowd at the sure absurdity of two students getting married, even if they were of age.

Once the hall was quiet once again, Blaise cried out with a flourish, “And so, it is my pleasure to announce to you formally, Her Grace Hermione Malfoy, the Duchess of Windsor, and His Grace Draco Malfoy, the Duke of Windsor!”

The doors that hid the corridor behind Ginny and Blaise opened, and Draco and Hermione walked out. His blond hair was slicked back only slightly, and his dress robes were on the finest black material. But although he looked deliciously royal, it was his wife who caused the jaws to drop and the applause to double.

Her dress was bright green, more of a light lime color than anything else, and it was strapless and longer than floor length. The bodice was tight until a thin, gold band at her waist, where it became very flowy and blew a little in the breeze that was drifting in through the open doors and windows.

She wore no necklace, but Narcissa had found her a pair of emerald studs for her ears that were the same color as her dress. On her left ring finger was her wedding ring, a simple gold band, and the engagement ring Draco had bought for her for the fancy, showy occasions. It was gold, and featured a rather large sapphire surrounded by many tiny diamonds and emeralds, which signified the combining of the Saxe-Coburg and Malfoy families.

That ring, the fancy one, she hated, because it was so large and ornate and not her at all. Luckily, Draco shared her sentiments, and had bought her a simple gold band with one, simple, heart-shaped diamond for everyday use. Unfortunately, she couldn’t wear that one now.

Ginny and Blaise had followed them down the stairs, and when the four of them reached the bottom, they were engulfed by well-wishers and the like. The two of them were separated, and Draco couldn’t help but be thankful that they had made a pact to keep the details of their marriage and their relationship secret. The only question that either of them would answer (aside from “Are you really married?”, “Do you really love him/her?”, and the like) was whether or not Hermione was pregnant. Because she most certainly was not.

After an hour, maybe two – Hermione couldn’t be sure – she finally made it over to Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Pansy. “Good Godric, Harry, how do you stand being the center of attention like that all of the time?” she asked, straightening her dress and pulling her wand out from between her breasts to strengthen the charms on her hair.

He laughed, a throaty laugh, and Hermione could tell he was enjoying himself. “I don’t, Hermione, but if you’re going to be a part of Society, I suppose there’s nothing keeping me from not joining it now,” he said, referring to a promise the two of them had made to each other to not be a part of Society, considering Ginny and Ron were and hated it.

Pansy turned to Ron, and Hermione was able to clearly admire her dress. It was a square-cut sleeveless emerald dress that fishtailed from her knees to her toes, which were in gold, pointed stiletto heels. The portion above her knees was kind of ruffled, so that it still clung to her every curve but was not perfectly smooth on her skin. Her black ringlets ended between her chin and her shoulders, and medium sized gold hoops were in her ears.

The style of her dress enabled her to easily put her hands on her hips as she said, clearly peeved, “See, Ron! Nothing is keeping you from going to Society functions with me anymore”. He looked at the floor and said nothing, and Pansy rolled her eyes before turning to Hermione and Ginny. “Well, if you two will be there, at least I’ll have girl friends there. Draco and Blaise always abandon me,” she pouted. Ginny and Hermione grinned and quickly promised to be there for their new friend, because they, too, could use a real friend at a place with so many fake people.

The boys in question suddenly appeared at their shoulders, and Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione’s waist before kissing her cheek. “Do not, Pansy,” he said after the typical greetings were exchanged.

Blaise nodded in agreement. “Pans, it’s not our fault that we’re not invited to the female soirées, you know,” he said. “And besides, you’re friends with Daphne, and she’s there,” he pointed out, referring to Daphne Greengrass, a fellow student in Slytherin.

Before Pansy could retort, the group of seven heard a loud squeal that the Gryffindors were very familiar with. “Hermione! Ginny! Harry! Ron!” Parvati Patil cried, rushing over to them. While Harry and Ron gave the proper hellos and swift nods, Hermione, Ginny, and Parvati gushed over each other’s dress robes, and Hermione couldn’t help but be amazed at Parvati’s confidence.

She had always been fashion forward, but she had really outdone herself this time. Her dress was off the shoulder, and a bright orange color that rivaled the sun. It was very ruffled until the waist, on which there was a wide, hot pink belt with a silver buckle, and it ended three inches above the knee. Three-inch peep-toed pumps matched the belt, as well as several thin bangles on her wrist and a hair ribbon that tied back her rather outrageous curls, which were quite different from her usual pin-straight locks.

Always the gracious hostess, Hermione introduced Parvati to Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, who had moved to cover her awkwardness by talking to the boys. But Ginny dragged her over and Hermione gave Parvati a look that said This-Girl-Is-My-Friend-Be-Nice, a look interpreted and understood by girls everywhere.

Parvati and Pansy shook hands, and were engaging in polite if not docile compliments regarding each other’s outfits when Luna arrived at their group. Her usual “loopy” manner was very evident, but otherwise she looked outstanding.

She wore a one-shoulder, sleeveless oceanic blue dress that had ruffles that ran diagonally down from her left hip all the way to her right knee, where it ended. In a way, it mimicked the cut of the dress at the top, as the silken fabric ran diagonally down from her left shoulder to her right breast. Bronze colored flats were on her feet, and a similarly colored chain was around her neck, on which was a single Butterbeer cork. All in all, her outfit was very eccentric, but it was very Luna.

Interestingly enough, the first person she greeted was not Hermione, or even Ginny, who she was friends with, but Pansy. “Hello, Pansy,” she breathed in her dreamy way. “I thought that I had heard that you and Ronald were together. However did you get rid of the Woogalies?”

Pansy started a little, and Harry and Ron tried not to laugh as Draco and Blaise stared at Luna. “The Woogalies?” she asked after a moment.

It was Luna’s turn to look perturbed. “Yes, the Woogalies. They are the only things that keep you from your true love, and once you get rid of them you can be with them. I was wondering how you had gotten rid of them so that I may do so, as well.”

Hermione threaded her arm through Luna’s. “Luna, darling, let’s go find someone for you to dance with, shall we?” she asked, hoping to drag her friend away from the rest so that her strange manner could be fully explained. Many knew she was crazy, but had no idea the extent that it went to.

“Oh, thank you, Hermione,” Luna said. “You really are so kind, but I already promised to dance the first dance with George Weasley.” Hermione pretended to not be surprised by this news, and they returned to their friends only for Draco to whisk her off again.

They intertwined their fingers as he led her through the crowd. “We dance our first dance as man and wife soon, Hermione,” he explained. “Lee Jordan just came up to me and said that his dad –” who was the conductor of the London Philharmonic Wizarding Orchestra, or Wizarding Orchestra of London, or WOOL for short “—is almost ready to begin, so we need to be in the ballroom.”

Sure enough, the announcement was made, and all 367 guests filed in to watch Their Graces dance a flawless waltz, even if they were both extremely nervous. But at Mr. Jordon’s signal, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Pansy, Minister Fudge and Mrs. Fudge, and Albus Dumbledore (How the fuck did he get in without an invitation? Draco wondered) and Minerva McGonagall all joined them, and soon, more did as well as Society danced the night away.

* * *

Hermione collapsed on her and Draco’s bed in utter exhaustion and decided to ignore the fact that there were House Elves magicking off her shoes and jewelry and dress and magicking on her nightgown. She also decided not to notice that Draco was helping her take off her make-up, wash her face, and brush her teeth, because she was too tired to do it herself. Clearly, Hermione Malfoy was not a night owl.

As the candles finally were blown out and a cool breeze happily blew through the open windows, Hermione settled down in her nice, comfortable, fluffy bed with her husband spooning around her. They were both exhausted and just happy to get that over with, and even Hermione decided to let the House Elves clean up the Manor. She was tired, he was tired, all they wanted to do was sleep.

So sleep they did.

**
Well? What do you think? Was it worth the wait?

Oh, and many thanks to In Style magazine for all of the outfit ideas. Some are directly from that (not necessarily the most recent issue), and some are variations of clothes I saw there. After all, Luna can't wear a normal dress, can she?

xx
suzz