The Turning

Disclaimer: Don\'t own anything but the plot.
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The Wedding

The following days passed in a blur and it was night. Draco and Hermione had insisted on a nighttime wedding, for they each felt that night was a fortuitous time for them both. Hermione wanted the wedding at Malfoy Manor, as it was easier to get to than the border keep.

The large dining room had been cleared out of its furniture and white chairs trimmed with pale green and white gauze stood in neat rows. There were hundred of unlit candles in floating in mid-air and in candelabras, waiting to be set aflame. The guests milled in the ballroom at the banquet tables and outside in the gardens.

Draco was nattily attired in his black dress robes with a thin white stripe running along the rim of the high neck. Harry saw him and thought, as he did during their fourth year, that Malfoy looked like a vicar - albeit one with messy hair. The blond was holding a glass of Dom Perignon \'94 and he was chuckling about something with Millicent Bulstrode.

His Godfather, Severus Snape, lurked around the edges of the torchlit gardens, watching his former students and present colleagues eat, drink and be merry. Atypically, he had managed to come up with a date. Snape and Madame Rosemerta, the proprietress of the Three Broomsticks, had always been on friendly terms and so she\'d agreed to accompany him to the affair.

Ginny Weasley, or should that be Virginia Potter, flitted from guest to guest, mingling and working the crowd. She handled them all in a manner befitting the wife of the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort. Even though Draco, Ginny and Hermione had performed in the rite that finally sent the Dark Lord to his final \'reward\', of course it was Harry who got all the press. They were pushing for Harry to become the Minister of Magic, now that Fudge was retired.

Ron was still playing the field, even though all of his siblings were now settled. He seemed content to teach at Hogwarts and referee an occasional Cannons match. Madame Hooch, after many years of teaching little magical folk to fly, retired. She was now currently enjoying her time on an enchanted pleasure island, toying with all of the buff young wizards and let it be known, witches, too.

Millicent still had her eye on Ron. They\'d dated on and off. But Ron proved to be a slippery little fish, managing to squirm from Millie\'s hook everytime she was ready to reel him in. But the woman was persistent in her efforts and Ron was not that bright when it came to the man/woman thing. One asset that Millie possessed was that as time went on, she became prettier. Her features, so bold and strong at seventeen, had mellowed out to a more feminine softness at twenty-two. Then, too, as assistant head coach of the Harpies, she and Ron still shared a love of Quidditch. Even now, Ron kept an eye on the junoesque brunette.

Molly and Arthur Weasley milled around the grounds, lending an air of authority and approval by being just what they were: settled and content. The elder Weasleys were just what one wanted at a wedding, a testament to the institution of marriage. It didn\'t hurt that most of their offspring were just as their parents. Ron, as always, was the oddball of the bunch.

Speaking of oddballs, Armande and Remus Lupin were there. The two of them were so utterly wrapped up in themselves it was ridiculous. Sweet, but ridiculous. Some of the guests threw amused smiles their way as they wondered how Armande and Remus managed to drag themselves from bed to attend the wedding.

Nymphadora Tonks stood picking over the treats on the buffet table. It had been assumed that she and Snape would couple up as everyone else seemed to be doing. That was not the case. Tonks found Snape amusing in his growly rigidity. Snape found Tonks to be barely tolerable. Thus it was that Tonks was at the wedding alone. But she had her eye on someone. That Muggle solicitor, Tobias Berg, was looking spectacularly delectable in his tuxedo. Little did Tobias know, he was being stalked like a hare scented by a linx.

At the stroke of nine, the torches flickered in unison and the guests moved into the dining room. Ginny took her spot as pronuba to the couple. A Weasley cousin, Patrick, happened to be an ordained vicar and a wizard. As such, he was the perfect choice to officiate. He was well-versed in the aspects of the Muggle ceremonies and the wizarding ones. Draco and Hermione wanted it to be a mix of both. Thus some of rituals of the wizarding ceremony were done away with and Muggle custom took over.

Draco stood at the front of the crowd, he seemed to be bobbing slightly on his toes in anticipation. He nodded to his Godfather, who was standing as best man and Severus went to fetch the bride down. Snape slipped out of the double doors and up the stairs. He knocked slightly on Hermione\'s door and was admitted in. What he saw took his breath away.

Gone was the still girlish manner of her seventeenth year. This was a serene, poised woman who stood before him. Her raiment was gossamer iridesecence. It was if she was clothed in rainbows and moonbeams. She wore the Malfoy jewels and in her upswept hair there were simple white rosebuds. The sheer outer robe revealed a more opaque dress which was strapless and high-waisted, emphasizing her height. She was altogether lovely.

Snape finally found his voice. \"Are you ready? Everyone is waiting.\"

Hermione grinned and gathered up her nosegay of roses, lilies and sparkling white impatiens. \"As ready as I\'ll ever be.\"

She raised up the hem of her gown and Severus noticed her dainty footwear gleaming. After leading her down the staiSeveSeverus went to leave and rejoin Draco at the head of the room. But Hermione stopped him with a hand on his black-clad arm.

\"Severus.\"

He turned in enquiry. \"Yes?\"

\"Would you do me a favour?\"

Snape eyed her apprehensively. She had the same twinkle in her eyes that Dumbledore used to get. That look in anyone\'s eyes, but especially hers always led to nothing but trouble. \"Depends on the favour.\"

\"I want you to walk me down the aisle.\"

\"Quoi?\"

\"You heard me. Walk me down the aisle. I\'d have much preferred that my Grandfather walk me down, but as he\'s dead...I figured I should have you do it.\" Hermione lips twitched in merriment at the contortions on Snape\'s face at being compared to a Grandfather.

\"There\'s no one else?\" He asked, aggrieved.

\"Stop being such a whining git and just do it.\"

\"Fine. But you owe me an extra weekend\'s worth of work in the laboratory.\"

\"Deal.\" Hermione extended her palm and Snape shook it hard. Hermione sent a little electric current from her hand to his and Snape pulled his palm away, wincing and shaking his fingers.

\"Don\'t manhandle me on my wedding day. It\'s not very nice.\"

\"Oh, do be quiet Miss Granger.\" He stuck out his arm and she took it.
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The ceremony was simple, the words brief. The only thing spoken was from Hermione. She said the ancient words of traditional wizarding rites: \'When and where you are Gaius, then and there I am Gaia.\' Ginny joined their hands and they exchanged rings. After which, they each took a slender taper (Hermione\'s was gold, Draco\'s silver) and lit a larger white candle, joining their twin flames. The fire was enchanted to remain ablaze for the duration of the marriage. Rev. Weasley pronounced them husband and wife. And with a smile he looked at Hermione and said, \"You may salute your husband.\"

Which she did with great verve. After the cheering and applause, three little boys, whose parents were still married, Charles and Angelina\'s son, Demetrius, Bill and Fleur\'s son Nicolas and Remus and Armande\'s adopted son Sebastian led the bride and groom out of the dining room and onto the vast torchlit lawn. The sight of the night shrouded gardens were lovely to behold all spread out before Draco and Hermione. They reached the tables, turned and beckoned their guests to join them. The party was on.

Many toasts were drunk until many of the guests were daring to get up and dance. Even Snape had had a bit of the bubbly and had been persuaded to take a twirl around the floor with the bride. Hermione gave her former professor a smirk not unlike her newly wedded husband\'s.

(Insufferable, the pair of them.) Severus thought, uncharitably.

Hermione, divining the direction of his thoughts, only grinned wider and stepped on his toe. Snape winced.

\"Sorry,\" she sparkled up at him.

\"No, you\'re not.\" Snape looked up and saw Draco looking after his wife with an impatient glare. \"And there\'s someone who wishes to speak with you,\" he drawled with transparent relief.

Hermione went into the arms of her husband, leaving Severus standing in the middle of the dance floor alone. He decided to leave early.
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Draco and Hermione mingled and danced and ate and drank until their heads were spinning. All they wanted was to depart the congratulatory crowd and be alone. At present they were sitting in the center of a long table, picking at their very early breakfasts and watching the incessant revelling of their guests. Hermione sent a thought winging into Draco\'s brain.

(How long until we can ditch them?)

(Impatient, are we?)

(Too right I am.) She slid her hand over Draco\'s robe covered thigh. (And I should think that you are as well.)

(Don\'t start something you can\'t finish, Granger.) Draco\'s voice rumbled low in the recesses of Hermione\'s brain.

(We\'ve been that route before, Malfoy.)

(And as I recall, it turned out to be a very satisfying journey.) Draco chuckled a bit, remembering.

(It did indeed. But back to my earlier query.) Hermione eased her hand a bit higher in Draco\'s lap.

(Give me three-quarters of an hour and we\'ll be cutting the cake, my sweet.)

(How delicious.) Draco saw Hermione\'s face had a sly kitten grin pasted on it.

(Indeed.) Draco looked her over. (Too bad you\'re wearing that dress. I could\'ve definitely had a bit of fun with that under the table. Too much material, you know.)

(A pity. However, it would be rather bad form, wouldn\'t it?)

(True. Dashed fun, but bad form.)

(These robes you\'re wearing however...) And here, Hermione curved her questing fingers inward to stroke him through the layers of lightweight wool and silk. (They\'re simply marvelous for a bit of amusement, are they not?)

(You evil evil bitch.)

(You love it.) A bit more pressure on the downstroke had Draco snapping to attention in his seat.

(I think I\'d better go.)

Hermione smiled that Cheshire Cat grin again. (Yes, I think you better had.)

(To be resumed at a more opportune time, Granger.)

(You may depend upon it, Malfoy.) She leaned over and gave Draco a kiss before sending him off to socialize. Draco got up from the table, thanking his lucky stars that his robes covered his predicament.

True to his word, a scant forty-five minutes later, Draco and Hermione had cut the cake, posed for photographs, kissed what seemed like every elderly aunt in the world and made ready to depart.

They traded in the formal garments for things more suitable for traveling. A sensible black suit for Draco, Hermione similarly garbed in red. Hermione tossed her bouquet, and off they went into the faint streaks of dawn.

Neither of them noticed the angry violet eyes staring after them.