The Owl and the Pussycat

One Week to the Wedding.



The manor was slowly turning into a greenhouse, or so Draco thought as the various wedding arrangements arrived from hothouses up and down Wizarding England. There were seven days until he would be married, seven days until they belonged to each other, seven days until… well… you know…



“Hello? Anyone here?” came a male tone.



“They invited us, of course they’re in” Answered a female.



“Mmmm, We’ll have to watch out for Grimblepops, they like tulips.” Said a light airy voice.



“And what planet are you orbiting?” said a different, harsh male, sarcasm evident.



“I wasn’t aware I was a moon, though that was clever, my name being Luna…”



“Shh… he’ll wake up, we’ve only just got him down for the night.” Said the first woman.



“He slept though a portkey – but can’t sleep in the peace and quiet of his nursery?” said the harsh voice.



“Sounds about right.” Murmured the first man.



Narcissa moved from her favourite parlour, a list of wedding preparations in her hand, Felina and another female ‘kitten’ following at her heels. The kitten was an incredibly strange combination of spun gold with moon blue tufts and socks – Bast looked rather cute, especially that she had one ear that drooped. She (and the other kittens) were two years old, and were still not fully grown, Kneazles took four years to reach adulthood, though they were weaned and hunting within seven months. Bast was particularly small, having been the runt of the litter – and Narcissa had kept this one of the seven little rascals.



“Well! Why are you all standing in the foyer? Why didn’t you come in?” She said, moving over to her guests and greeting them properly. “And how is little James doing? He looks so adorable when he’s asleep.”



“Trouble is he doesn’t sleep too often!” Harry whispered, handing over his son to the blonde woman, moving to take Ginny’s cape from her.



“Oh, are you being trouble for your Mummy and Daddy? Are you? I think you are.” Narcissa said, in a voice that every adult reserves for an infant.



“He’s a clone of his Dad, couldn’t miss that hair and nose!” said the other man, moving to carefully hug Narcissa (mindful of the baby). “How are you fairing, Godmother?”



“I’m quite fine, thank you Marcus.” She replied, moving to kiss him of the cheek. “And Miss Lovegood, how are you? I hope you enjoy your stay.”



“I am alright – can I explore your gardens for Timpyfips? They are a rather rare species and would be most suited to your flowerbeds, especially with your rare roses.” Luna said, her head dipped to one side, looking over Narcissa’s right shoulder at the wall.



“Anything that it is in my power to grant as hostess you are welcome to indulge in! But I would advise waiting until the morning.” Narcissa said, being polite to a woman Hermione respected. Luna was another unspeakable, so her mental ability wasn’t in question. There was a fine line between genius and insanity – and Luna Lovegood most likely had one foot on either side.



“Harry! Ginny! Luna! Oh, and James! And… Marcus?” Hermione said, walking briskly to greet her friends.



“Hey Flint – so you hitched a ride with this lot then?” Draco joked, shaking hands with his best man. “Why are we all in the foyer? Wouldn’t it be better if we all sat down in the parlour?”



“Mmmm.” Luna hummed, following the little kneazle into the warm room and ignoring the others.



“Odd, with a capital ‘O’” Marcus mumbled, following Draco.



***



Later, the women left for Narcissa’s dressing room for the final fitting of the bridesmaid dresses; the fashionable colour that year had been baby pink – much to the hilarity at Pansy Parkinson’s wedding to a French pureblood, her dress choice had been hideous. Hermione had chosen to break free of fashion and go for a strange shade of lilac-grey that was reminiscent of a stormy winter.



“Right, same rules as my wedding dress: no frills, no bows, no lace, no petticoat underskirts, no pink.” Ginny said, keeping her eyes closed as Narcissa zipped her into the simple, floor-length shift dress that hugged her curves slightly, she was still bloated after James’s birth.



“There, you may open your eyes and look.” Narcissa said, incredibly pleased with the seamstress’s work and Hermione’s colour choice.



“Spot on! I could wear this again! Its so comfortable and elegant, and brilliant!” Ginny said hugging Narcissa and Hermione before changing back into her casual robes and hanging the dress in the warded garment bag. “Harry will love it!”



“Behave – James is only four weeks old – you have another two to wait until you can misbehave again!” Hermione chided, grinning.



“Oh, don’t gloat – just because you’ll be getting some nookie and I’m not allowed to for a fortnight! Stop giggling at me Hermione Jane Granger!” Ginny retaliated with a smile.



“Nobody ever seems to find me attractive… hmm… I’m not very shapey and things that men like.” Luna sighed, stepping into the dress being held out for her by Narcissa.



“Dear, if all they want is bosoms, then they aren’t worth your time or effort – you have a very unique personality and sharp mind, a spouse should go for those!” Ginny said, zipping up Luna.



“I hope they don’t want bosoms, I don’t have any… hmm… neither did my Mother.”



Hang on a moment, let’s just change the dress a little to accent what you do have…” Hermione said, winking at Narcissa.



The two women set to work, altering the plain shift into something more elaborate, but still simply elegant and suitable for the wedding.



***



“Come on James, shhh.” Harry sighed, rubbing the baby’s back as he screamed in his ear.



“Hand him over, let’s have a cuddle for a minute.” Draco said taking a red-faced James Potter (II) from his Father. Gently running his healing ability through the baby, he eased the tummy ache that was keeping the little boy awake. James squeaked and quietened almost instantly, piercing green eyes meeting his grey ones before he yawned and fell asleep on Draco’s shoulder.



“Tummy ache. He just wasn’t happy.” Draco said quietly, moving to pass the child back to Harry.



“No, keep hold of him for a little while, he’s sleeping and quiet – I hate to see him stressed and unhappy.” Harry whispered with a yawn.



“You’re good at that.” Marcus Flint murmured, handing Harry a cup of coffee from the tray. Potter was shattered, huge bags under his eyes, made bigger by his glasses.



“Calming children is a healing skill, things are easier to treat if they aren’t scared or upset. Its tricky to master, it took me a lot of study to get right.” Draco replied softly, listening to a contented James squeak and peep as he slept.



“You’ll make a good Dad, Draco.” Harry yawned.



“Not yet, we’re not ready for children yet, we both want to do a few other things in life before we contemplate a family.” Draco said, rubbing the baby’s back as he twitched.



“Hey!” Ginny said, noting Draco cradling her silent son, “Can we borrow you at three in the morning when he won’t sleep?”



“Knock on the door at three this time next week, and you will be met with several hexes.” Draco chuckled, Marcus grinned.



“Wouldn’t dream of dragging you away from your wedding night!” Ginny giggled.



“I just hope Saint Mungo’s has the same attitude – it wouldn’t surprise me if they did call me in!” Draco winced, aware that a major emergency would wreck his and Hermione’s special night.



“Mrow?” Bast crooned, jumping up onto Narcissa’s knee as the woman sat on the sofa.



“Well, you and your Mother will have to find another bed next week too.” She blushed, thinking of Lucius and his (grudgingly) approved arrival in a week’s time… and she thought she would burst with excitement.