The Replenishment Decree

Hermione and Narcissa stood silently together in the tent, waiting to be ushered to their seats, lost in their own thoughts. Both women jumped when the entrance was opened and they were requested to leave.

“If you’ll each take an arm, I’ll escort you to your seats and then take my own,” Blaise Zabini said as the couple stepped forward.

“Thank you, Blaise. I’m glad you’re here, it’s been a long time,” Narcissa said kindly, looping her arm through his own.

“It has Lady Malf - I apologize,” he looked directly at Narcissa, “I mean to say, it has been too long, Miss Black.”

Smiling, Narcissa simply patted his arm.

As the trio started up the aisle toward their section, Narcissa was able to take in the seating arrangement. Instead of rows of chairs facing an altar, the guests formed two large semi-circles around a raised dais in the middle where Minerva McGonagall stood in a silver and white set of dress robes that showed her designation as the officiant. They heard music playing softly and Hermione’s eyes scanned the courtyard until they fell on Professor Flitwick playing the harp.

Once Narcissa and Hermione had taken their seats facing McGonagall in the center of the front row of chairs in one semicircle, and Blaise had taken his on Narcissa’s other side, the music changed and Draco and Dean each walked up an aisle toward the center of the tented courtyard and one another.

The two young men reached the dais at the same moment and stood looking at each other.

“Witches and Wizards, family and friends, we are all gathered here today to witness the union of these two young men in accordance with tradition and law. Draco Lucius Malfoy and Dean Michael Thomas you are here today for the purpose of this union?”

“We are,” they said together.

Narcissa, hand firmly entwined with Hermione’s, reflexively squeezed the younger woman’s appendage.

“You have taken into consideration the weight of the vows a union demands?”

“We have,” they replied in unison.

“You will follow through on the commitments you make to one another in this union?”

“We will,” they answered.

“Draco, will you honor and tend to Dean? Will you place his security above all others? Will you keep his secrets and share your own? Will you multiply his happiness and divide his sorrows? Draco, will you be loyal to Dean?”

“I will.”

“And Dean, will you do the same? Honor and tend to Draco? Place his security above all others? Keep his secrets and share your own? Multiply his happiness and divide his sorrows? Dean, will you be loyal to Draco?”

“I will.”

“Do you both so pledge?”

“I do,” they spoke once more together.

“I ask now,” Minerva looked between the two men, still waiting across from one another, not yet on the platform, “for you to come forward and join hands.”

In perfect synchronicity, Dean and Draco moved up the two steps and across the dais to meet one another in the middle, directly in front of McGonagall, and took one another’s hands.

“In these times in which we live,” she spoke to the crowd, “tumultuous, sometimes frightening, uncertain, it is important - no. It is crucial that we each find a person with whom we can feel safe. Another person who will listen to us when we have fears, laugh with us in moments of levity, cry in moments of loss. A partner who will honor our dreams and our goals,” Minerva glanced at Hermione before continuing, “a partner who will believe that we can attain them. A partner who will help us to push past our fears and trust ourselves,” she looked directly into Narcissa’s eyes for a beat. “It is so lovely to see a partnership such as that right now, after a period of such loss. Keep looking for the silver lining. Keep seeking the light through the darkness. Find your secret keeper, the one who will multiply your happiness and divide your sorrows.” She glanced between Narcissa and Hermione, “and hold on.”

Minerva looked back at Draco and Dean and spoke to them once more, “Gentlemen, I shall not ask for objections. You are two strong, smart, resourceful young men; no one else can decide the status of your relationship now but you.”

They nodded at her, once. In keeping with wizarding tradition, Minerva invited the guests to stand and contribute to the ending, “Everyone please rise and raise your wand hand.” She waited until the noise of people shifting to stand had died down before she finished, “If these vows have been taken and your loyalty is pledged, you may kiss one another,” she said carefully.

Hermione, a split second behind Draco, grabbed Narcissa in her arms and spun her around to dip her back and kiss her. The older woman laughed loudly, drawing much attention to herself, and many of the guests laughed along with her.

“The ceremony has concluded,” Minerva announced loudly, “Dean and Draco will receive guests and well-wishers just outside the courtyard as the reception seating is prepared.”

Dean and Draco, hand in hand, circled around the dais once hugging and thanking their closest friends and family before heading up the aisle Draco had used earlier to wait in the little tented area for the guests to make their way out.

Not surprisingly, Hermione and Narcissa made their way in. Hermione quickly pulled out her wand and cast a muffliato charm to prevent them from being overheard. “Are you crazy, Draco? If you get caught with this, Merlin knows what the Wizengamot will do to you!”

Dean looked hurt, “And me, Hermione?”

“No, Dean, of course, not,” Narcissa joined her fiancée, “I daresay the Wizengamot will paint you as a poor, unfortunate young man who was tricked by the dastardly offspring of the evil houses of Black and Malfoy. Draco, you’re smart. You’re great at research. But you take too many risks without thinking of the consequences. This was a very large, poorly calculated risk that could have terrifying impacts on you if you’re discovered.”

“Mother, I do understand. I promise we’ve done nothing for which we can possibly be charged with a crime. No where did we announce that we were getting married. We didn’t send invitations to a wedding, nor did we even use the words wedding, marriage, or groom anywhere throughout the ceremony. The people we personally contacted received a letter inviting them for a reception with friends preceded by a ceremony. We were extremely careful not to permit anyone into the audience who would catch on and tell the Ministry exactly what was witnessed. If the Wizengamot and the community as a whole assume that our little spectacle today was a wedding, that isn’t our fault. If they assume it so greatly that they reassign Mrs. Runcorn and Mandy, even better.”

“I hope you’re right, especially with Rita Skeeter waiting to pounce,” Hermione said quietly.

“I have a feeling with two of the Golden Trio here tonight, there may be more than Rita Skeeter looking for a bit of news. Make certain when you step outside this tent you are ready to face whatever may be waiting.”

Dean and Draco smirked at one another, “Well, you see, we were a bit more careful than just that. From outside the courtyard, you can’t see anyone in it because the whole thing is Disillusioned. We’d been talking to Harry and he told us all the spells and enchantments you used to protect yourselves while you were on the run, Hermione. We spent a fair amount of time this afternoon crafting an invitation only spell that would repel anyone we didn’t specifically want inside for the ceremony itself. Sort of a bastardization of repello muggletum, fidelius, and the password charm all mixed together.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “That’s brilliant,” she was impressed. “Are you keeping it in place for the reception as well?”

“No,” Draco sighed deeply, “but we will be removing the kissing bells. It’s not that I’m afraid to kiss Dean. I just want to be careful that there is no way it can be said a kiss makes this a legally binding marriage. We’re going to allow others to come in to the reception, we understand that that will probably include some uninvited guests like Rita Skeeter. I suspect if word has gotten out at all, Kikus Trecus, and even Adeline Adore from Witch Weekly will be here.”

“Oh, Merlin, give me patience, Witch Weekly comes out tomorrow. We’ve been in here too long,” Narcissa said, “Brunch tomorrow. No excuses. At the Manor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said right away.

“Of course, Mother, we’ll be there. Let’s go, Dean. Time to face the music,” Draco smiled.

The women followed Draco and Dean to the entrance and Narcissa, before Blaise Zabini could step forward, smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm. “Sorry, Blaise, I’m his mum, we’re going first,” she smiled, laughing lightly, to show she meant no rudeness or insult.

“Of course,” Blaise dipped his head in acknowledgment, “I wouldn’t dream of making you wait, Mistress Black, Hermione.”

They both thanked him and turned to face Dean and Draco. Air kisses abounded amongst them and Narcissa, before moving on, offered them the first bit of advice, “Gentlemen, put your arms around each other and each of you take a glass of champagne in your free hand. Trust me, it’ll keep you from having to shake hands with everyone in this line, which is growing by the moment, and you won’t have to kiss a hundred cheeks.” She reached up and patted them both on the cheek at the same time, graciously saying, “You’re welcome, my boys.”

Blaise stepped up after Hermione and Narcissa had gone to offer his congratulations, he was followed by Luna, then Pansy, then Seamus, one after another many of their school friends entered with words of gratitude for being invited to the gathering.

A few sets of parents of their friends headed in behind them, Pansy’s parents, of course, they had known Draco his whole life. Neville’s grandmother had arrived with him, not happily if the look on her face was anything to go by.

“This is all very untraditional. No organist? No wedding party? Is there even to be a cake? There were no coins, no anvil. I’m very confused,” she said loudly.

Draco, seeing Rita Skeeter just over her shoulder, quickly interrupted her rant, “I’m so sorry you couldn’t see everything from your position in the courtyard Mrs. Longbottom. We know our plans were rather last minute-”

“But we’re ever-so-grateful you could make it,” Dean finished, tilting his head, so it rested against Draco’s.

“Thanks for inviting us, guys,” Neville grinned at Dean, still a little unsure about Draco.

“Say, Neville?” Draco said quietly, stepping forward to be able to keep his voice down.

“Uh, y-y-yes?”

“I was wondering if we could have a chat later? If that would be okay with you? I think I have some things for which I need to apologize but I’d like to have a little more privacy if that’s alright?”

Neville looked at Draco, his eyes held wide open in shock. “That would be fine, Draco. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, “Please choose a seat at whichever table best suits you! Feel free to mingle and make new friends.”

As the last of the crowd made their way into the now well-filled courtyard, Draco turned to Dean and admitted to his exhaustion.

“I know, man, me, too. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

“Gentlemen,” Minerva interrupted, “I know you’re tired right now, I well remember that feeling after the receiving line was through but, sadly, no rest for the weary. I’m going to introduce you together, you’re going to walk the center of the dance floor, thank your friends for coming, and invite everyone to enjoy the delicious meal prepared by Madam Rosmerta and The Three Broomsticks. You get a break for a while to simply sit together and enjoy your dinner. No one should interrupt because you’ve waited through the entire receiving line. After dinner, you’ll have to dance the first dance.” She looked back and forth between them, waiting for an objection.

“Do we have to dance the whole thing alone?” Dean asked.

Chuckling, Minerva answered that they would not, other couples would be invited to join them after a minute or two.

“Thank heavens,” he said, clearly relieved, “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“The things I wish I’d known before today,” Draco said in a fair imitation of a long-suffering tone causing McGonagall to laugh all the way to center of the courtyard.

“Sonorous,” she said, wand tip at her own throat to amplify her voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! I present to you, the happy couple, Draco and Dean!”

All of the guests stood at their respective tables to honor the two young men who made their way, hand in hand, through the tables to stand with McGonagall.

She removed her wand from her throat to touch the tip to Dean’s as he spoke, “Draco and I would like to thank you all for joining us for this exciting and momentous day. We appreciate your presence and the opportunity to see so many dear friends. Please, everyone, enjoy the company at your table and the delicious meal prepared by Madam Rosmerta and The Three Broomsticks.”

Dean and Draco sat at a small table for two as their guests were all magically served plates of food. The noise level steadily rose as conversation began and people filled one another in on what they had been doing and what their plans were for the future. Draco heard his mother laugh and looked over to see Hermione smirking as she straightened up from whatever she had been quietly sharing with Narcissa. He continued to watch as she reached up and brushed a stray curl out of Hermione’s face before gently rubbing the younger woman’s cheekbone with her thumb.

“What’s wrong, Draco?” asked Dean, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

Draco looked at the man with whom he was sitting, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes just a bit. “Do you know, in my entire life, I’ve never heard my mother laugh that way outside of our home?”

“Hmm?” Dean was clearly confused.

“My mother. She’s over there laughing with Hermione. They’re at a table full of Hogwarts professors, some of the most respected and revered people in Hermione’s life, and yet the two of them can hardly stop touching one another, haven’t spoken to anyone else at the table, and my mother is laughing. Her real, true laugh.”

Dean looked back and forth between Draco and Narcissa. “Well, they’re going to be married. For real. And, they’ve been together for months, so…”

“Uh, no, of course,” Draco agreed, shaking his head lightly, “I’m actually quite happy for them, especially Mum. She deserves this.”

“Yeah, and without Hermione we’d have never beaten Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters.”

Draco placed his spoon across the top of the plate, signalling he was done with his soup.

Once it had vanished, he turned to Dean with a very serious expression on his face, and spoke, “Dean. I know you and most of the world believe that Harry, Ron, and Hermione defeated the Dark Lord. But there are things you don’t know.”

“Can you tell me?” He, too, got rid of his soup.

“I’m not sure it’s my place to share. They aren’t all my stories to tell. Perhaps tomorrow at brunch you can ask my mother about some of them.”

Dean reached over and grasped Draco’s forearm, “I will, Draco. We all need to know and honor each other’s stories. I’d also like to know your history in the war and I can share with you how I came to be a prisoner at Malfoy Manor.”

Draco paled further. “I, I had forgotten you were locked up there.”

Dean shrugged a little. He hadn’t been treated as poorly as some of the prisoners there, certainly he had been better off than poor Mr. Ollivander and Griphook the Goblin. It wasn’t one of his favorite memories but he had survived, escaped, and gone on to help defeat Voldemort.

“We may...have a little problem,” Draco hedged.

Dean sat up and looked Draco square in the eyes, “do tell.”

“I inherited Malfoy Manor when my father was sent to Azkaban in June. I had intended for us to live there but if it’s too hard or too much for you, we can just get a flat somewhere.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Draco smiled, he didn’t want anyone to question their conversation topic.

“If you inherited Malfoy Manor, why are you staying at Black Manor?”

Draco glanced around and then carefully realigned the flatware at his seat, took a sip from his water goblet and finally, finally, took a deep breath and answered, “I wanted to stay with my mother. There is absolutely no cool way to spin that. For all her wealth and beauty and pureblood connections, she hasn’t had an easy life. I didn’t know when I was younger, but my mother was forced to marry my father because of some other family drama. He hadn’t really wanted her but he took her in place of my aunt who had run off. He made sure she always knew she was not his first choice. He was quite controlling of her and never listened to what she wanted or thought. Then he allowed Aunt Bella to bring the Dark Lord to Malfoy Manor and hid them there for a while which was, literally, hell on my mother.”

“Draco,” Dean said, gently placing his hand on the other man’s back, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. If you’d rather, we can just stay at Black Manor.”

Draco smiled at Dean, who was kinder than Draco was used to anyone being, and thanked him. “Though, I think Hermione is going to be moving into the Manor in December, so I’m not sure if that makes sense either. Maybe we can just discuss it with Mother tomorrow at brunch?”

Dean nodded and patted Draco’s back softly.

Salads appeared on everyone’s plates throughout the courtyard and the meal continued, the sounds of conversation and laughter filling the area with happiness. A few more guests straggled in slowly and found seats, joining the joyful atmosphere. Seeing one such straggler, Draco pulled Dean up with him and insisted they greet the man.

“Hagrid!” Draco smiled as they approached, arm in arm.

“Oy! There y’ar! How’d it go, boys?”

“Perfectly without a hitch,” Dean answered, grinning.

“Glad you could make it, there’s a seat for you with the other professors. Say, Hagrid?” Draco asked quietly before they made their way through the crowded tables.

“What is it, Draco?”

“I just, um, could you step outside with me for a second, I need to tell you something.”

Hagrid, looking concerned, followed the young man.

When they stopped just outside the entrance to the courtyard, Draco turned to fully face the half-giant and looked up into Hagrid’s kind eyes.

“Hagrid, I owe you a huge apology. I was a jealous prat as a child and I made some really immature choices that could have led to you being fired and a hippogriff being killed. I’m, well, I know it sounds silly, but I’m trying to live a better life than my father and that starts with being honest and sincerely apologizing for the wrongs I’ve done. You’ve been a great help to me this summer with information about magical creatures and I really appreciate your knowledge.”

“Aww, Draco, it’s no matter. Just like animals, I do.”

Smiling, Draco nodded, “I know, you do. All the same, I hope you’ll accept my apology and we can continue to be friends.”

“Oh, o’ course, I accept it. Now get in there to yer party, young man. I’m right behind ye.”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Draco smiled and held his hand out to shake. Hagrid did so and the two re-entered the courtyard, side-by-side, smiling.

Dean was waiting, eyebrows raised, a small grin on his face.

Narcissa was watching, head tilted.

Hermione was wondering if Draco had apologized.

All three seemed to be pleased with what they saw and Hermione smiled brightly realizing Hagrid would be joining their table. She stood to hug him as he approached.

“Hey, there, Hermione! It’s been too long. You come ‘round for tea soon, you hear?”

Hugging him, she promised she would. Before he could sit down, Hermione took Hagrid’s hand and pulled him over to Narcissa who stood.

“Hagrid, you’ve probably met before, but just in case, I’d like to officially introduce you to my fiancée, Narcissa Black. Narcissa, I’m sure you know Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Professor Hagrid,” Narcissa said, “It’s a pleasure to make your formal acquaintance. I would like to apol-”

“No need, ma’am,” Hagrid blushed, “If you’re good enough for our Hermione, you’re good enough for me. You just be sweet to that one, she’s a special witch.”

Narcissa smiled up at Hagrid, “I couldn’t agree more, she certainly is special.” Narcissa wrapped her arm around Hermione’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Hagrid,” Minerva spoke, “were you able to help the herd find their missing member?”

“Yes, Professor. The thestral foal was stuck in a bramble near the unicorns. We got him back.”

Minerva nodded and raised her glass to Hagrid who smiled in response and joined them.

With everyone once again seated, Hermione turned to Narcissa and murmured quietly in her ear, “Are you okay? We said some rough things to one another the other day about Hagrid.”

“You, my dear, are far too good to me. I’m completely fine. I appreciate that he didn’t make me apologize for the past but I do wish I could have.” Narcissa answered quietly, looking into the eyes so close to her own.

Hermione offered a small, supportive smile and pushed her plate a few inches forward.

“Hermione, what are you up to? Didn’t see you at the start of term,” Hagrid asked across the table.

“I, actually, will be visiting Hogwarts this week to hopefully meet with some professors and discuss the possibility of studying for my NEWTs without actually living in the castle.”

“Well, that would be unusual, certainly,” Professor Slughorn pontificated, “Hermione, though, is so bright that, if anyone could make it work, she could.” He finished looking at Minerva.

“It would be challenging to really get a handle on the practical side of your studies though, if you’re not taking classes,” Professor Flitwick added.

Narcissa watched the conversation happen around her, realizing that the Headmistress was perhaps less than thrilled to have the discussion arise in such an informal setting. Looking at Hermione, she saw the anxiety rising in the redness of her ears, she reached over and subtly laid a hand on Hermione’s leg.

“Of course, I’ll only be able to work independently with those professors who approve and think I’m capable of doing so. With all that I did and saw in the last year, I won’t be attending Hogwarts in a traditional sense this year no matter the decision, I just wouldn’t feel comfortable coming back to live in the castle again right now.”

Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Rolanda Hooch all made immediate noises of understanding.

“Miss Granger and I actually spoke about this earlier today and decided that she would come to Hogwarts at least one day a week to work in person with whomever agreed that she could take their subjects in this way. She will be working with me on Transfiguration, not Professor Willoughby.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Hermione said graciously. She turned to glance at Narcissa only to find the woman looking back at her, an encouraging smile on her face.

“Well,” Slughorn chuckled, “I can’t see anyone having a complaint about it. Miss Granger is one of the hardest working and brightest students Hogwarts has ever seen!”

Flitwick quickly agreed, saying he, too, would welcome an independent study with Hermione if that was how it needed to be worked out.

“We will see you at the castle bright and early next Saturday, Miss Granger, to get all of your courses and materials squared away. Now, however, I believe our meal is finished and I have the honor of introducing the lovely couple for their first dance.” Minerva smiled and rose from the table to head over to Dean and Draco.

After she had walked away, Professor Sprout leaned over to pat Hermione’s hand and tell her, “Now, don’t you worry. You know everyone at Hogwarts will do whatever you need to make sure you’re prepared to take your NEWTs whenever it works for you, dear.”

Smiling, Hermione thanked the kind woman and turned to watch McGonagall. She leaned over and said something quiet to Dean and Draco, they looked at one another, smiled, and stood.

Minerva’s voice rang out, “Honored guests, it is time for Draco and Dean to share the traditional first dance.”

As the music began, the men bowed to one another and then quickly moved into a ballroom dancing pose. After a few spins around the dance floor, McGonagall invited their families to join them. Narcissa stepped out, Hermione’s hand in her own, and bowed her head to the new couple before she turned and took Hermione in her arms.

The women began to dance and could feel everyone’s eyes upon them. “I’ve never been a good dancer,” Hermione whispered, “I’m so afraid I’m going to step on your toes and knock us both over.”

“You won’t. Just stay with me. Come closer and move your body with mine,” Narcissa whispered back, directly into Hermione’s ear.

“With your body against mine, I can hardly remember my own name, never mind remember to be worried about anyone else.”

Narcissa placed a surreptitious kiss to Hermione’s neck, just below her ear before asking, “Why do you think I wanted you to come closer?”

After a moment, Hermione pulled back a tiny bit so she could look at Narcissa. It took a few seconds for them to realize they hadn’t been joined by anyone else on the dance floor.

It was a sobering moment. None of Dean’s family had joined them. They weren’t there.

Suddenly there was a shuffling happening from the back of the guests, they heard a woman saying, “Excuse me! Excuse us, please! We must get through!”

When she finally got to the edge of the dance floor, she looked right at Dean. “Dean, you’re like another son to me. May we join you for the family dance?”

Clearing his throat, Dean nodded and spoke, “Of course, Mrs. Finnigan! You’re like a second mum to me!”

And it was as though she had triggered a floodgate.

Harry followed seconds behind the Finnigans with Luna on his arm. “Dean, you’re my Gryffindor brother, we came for the family dance.”

Then Neville and his gran. Soon, Blaise Zabini stepped out with Cho Chang, “Draco, you’re my Slytherin brother. We’re here, too.”

By the time the song had ended, the dance floor was packed with Hogwarts family. House brothers and sisters, once formed in the halls of Hogwarts Castle, those bonds were not so easily broken.

“The dance floor is open for all guests!”

And the party really got started. Nearly everyone spent time dancing the hours away. Though so many friendly and familiar faces were around them on the floor, Narcissa and Hermione never shared. Slow songs found their arms wrapped around one another or in perfect ballroom position, upbeat tempos found them moving around one another, teasing, smiling, and laughing the night away. The music was a mix of muggle and magical bands and an obscenely popular muggle song came on, apparently to the extreme delight of Hermione, who got a wicked look on her face.

“Do you know this song?” She shouted over the music.

“Definitely not,” Narcissa answered.

Hermione laughed and stepped forward until her body was pressed completely against Narcissa’s and she held the other woman’s hips tightly in her hands forcing her to dance faster to the quick tempo. Hermione started singing along, “I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.”

Giggling, Narcissa said, “Hermione this song is ridiculous!”

“Just listen,” she said into Narcissa’s ear, nipping the earlobe in front of her. That caused Narcissa’s hands to tighten on Hermione.

“Get my act together? I hope all these lyrics aren’t met for me, little Gryffindor,” Narcissa growled. Hermione laughed and turned in front of Narcissa so her back was pressed to Narcissa’s front. “If I want to be your lover? Teasing me again, darling? Remember, two can play at that game.”

Hermione’s hands came up and made their way behind Narcissa’s neck, holding the other woman to her. Narcissa was holding Hermione’s hips, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together. Her right hand let go of the other woman’s hip and slid slowly across Hermione’s stomach to tease at the bottom of the deep v in the robes she was wearing. Their lips met in a heated kiss. Narcissa groaned into Hermione’s mouth before ending the kiss and making her way to her fiancée’s ear. “Hermione, maybe we should...mmm...maybe we should get some water. Or a glass of wine. Or a shot of firewhiskey.”

Hermione, having had a bit of firewhiskey already, leaned more of her weight back against Narcissa and turned her head to nip again at the earlobe within reach. The twist in her body opened a gap between her robes and her abdomen, Narcissa’s hand - already there - slipped inside the front of Hermione’s robes. Feeling the soft skin beneath her palm, Narcissa’s hand clenched and her nails scraped just a little. Hermione let out a deep groan into Narcissa’s ear.

“Darling, we’re about to give a lot of people a very private show before we’ve even experienced it for ourselves. Please, turn around and look at me.” Hermione didn’t move right away. “Please.”

Hearing the pleading tone in Narcissa’s voice, Hermione immediately did as asked, “I’m sorry, ‘Cissa, I got a little carried away.” She leaned in to say the next part, not wanting to be overheard, “I have to admit, having your body so near my own does seem to cause my better judgement to disappear.”

“Hermione, let’s agree right now to never apologize for wanting one another. We’ve both been concerned about...things...having to do with...things...but it’s wonderful to know this won’t be an issue.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around Narcissa’s waist and simply rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder in a hug.

Needing to change her thoughts away from how desperately she wanted Narcissa, Hermione said, “the last time I danced at a wedding we were interrupted by the fall of the Ministry and a group of Death Eaters showed up to capture us.”

“What?!” Narcissa stepped back, eyes wide, jaw dropped.

“Yeah. It was August first 1997. Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. That was the night Harry, Ron, and I went on the run.”

“You weren’t captured?”

“No, and I actually have no idea if anyone was. I don’t think so. I think the Weasleys were under surveillance after that but I don’t think anyone was actually captured.”

“Oh, my dear Hermione, you are so courageous. You know, I would like to hear about your time on the run when you’re ready to share it with me.”

“Ugh, it was a rough nine months but I’ll share it with you. Not all at once. It’s...too much to do all at once. But I want to tell you about it.”

Narcissa leaned forward to share another kiss.

Just then, Rosmerta’s staff carried out a large, delicious looking cake and Minerva asked the guests to please be seated for dessert.

Rolanda Hooch, cheeks burning red, looked back and forth between Hermione and Narcissa as they sat. “So. I guess you really are getting married, huh?”

“Yes,” Hermione said with a big smile, “December the twenty-first, Winter Solstice.”

“I know, I don’t believe how lucky I am most days, either,” Narcissa shrugged.