Brilliant Match

This story is written for bookshop for marginalia's HP Slash Wedding Challenge.

She wanted H/D. She got H/D.

Purest fluff. Thank you, theunblonde and ohevet_likro for your fast betas.



Brilliant Match

Hermione waited with Harry in the chapel.

She smiled at him. "I do wish Ron..."

Harry nodded. "Me, too. But I'm glad you're here."

He looked handsome enough in his wedding robes. Malfoy, coming down the aisle on his mother's arm, looked like a wedding cake - satin and lace and a matching hat. On his side of the aisle, Lucius Malfoy, resplendent in dark velvet and Azkaban chains, wept with joy.

"My baby boy! In my wedding robes! I've dreamed of this day! If only Rabastan were here." The guard by his side wiped his own eyes on a large pink and aquamarine handkerchief and nodded.

"It's beautiful, it is."

Professor McGonagall, in tartan splendor, beamed from behind the lectern. Lupin and Snape smiled at each other from their seats across the aisle from one another.

The world had obviously gone mad.

--------------

"He's marrying Draco Malfoy." Hermione had seen no reason to beat around the bush. She sat down next to Ginny at the Ministry canteen. "He Floo'd me last night. Can you believe it?"

Ginny squealed. Squealed. "What brilliant news! Mum and Dad are going to burst!"

"Ginny. He's marrying the son of a convicted Death Eater. Son."

"Malfoy isn't one, though. Never has been. Too much of a coward. You know that." She jumped up. "If I don't owl Mum straightaway, she'll never forgive me."

Hermione followed her out with her eyes. This was an entirely wrong response. She sighed and started to eat her elevenses.

Later, she met Pansy Parkinson on her way back to her laboratory. "Did you hear, Granger?"

"Hear what?"

"Draco's marrying your mate Potter. Surely he must have owled you already." Parkinson's smile was real and happy. Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen that before.

"He told me last night, actually. You're...happy about this?"

Parkinson stared. "Of course. Aren't you? This is the best thing either one could have done. It's perfect." At Hermione's blink, she shrugged. "Mu...Muggleborns. Did you get any of the supplies you requisitioned last week?"

"Not a one. You either?"

"No, and my cauldron filters are all clogged." They parted at Parkinson's laboratory door, with Hermione still more confused.

The next day, the announcement came out in the Prophet , with a front page article. Harry floo'd her in despair, but he told her Draco preened about it. And the owls kept coming.

And coming.

All of their surviving friends seemed to be writing to her, because she was Harry's best friend now, and thus had to know everything. And most of them were excited and happy. The only sane ones came from the other Muggleraised people.

"I'm going to send them both a Howler." Dennis refused to be convinced otherwise. Hermione had to have sent him ten letters that night.

"How...how could you let him do that?" Lavender's head dripped tears into Hermione's fireplace. "You're his best friend since...since...that awful time. Why are you letting him...and Draco's a man."

Yeah, those were the sane ones. How could Harry do that to her? Next thing you know, she'd be taking chances like a maniac or crying over dead bunnies.

She gave up trying to make sense when she realized that there were Best Witch robes at Madam Malkin's. And they weren't nice, tailored ones like she preferred to wear.

Ginny had gone with her. "Oh, Hermione, they're lovely!"

"They're chiffon. Six layers of chiffon. Pale green chiffon. Over cloth-of-gold. And I'll look pregnant in that cut."

"Oh, don't be silly. You'll look so pretty. Harry does have exquisite taste, just like Draco. Maybe they'll find each other tolerable, you know?" And she put the pointed green and gold hat on Hermione's head.

"What do you mean by that? Surely, they love each other." She adjusted the hat, trying to find an attractive angle and failing utterly.

Ginny, who was now putting on a set of truly flattering russet dress robes that echoed the tones of her hair, stared at her again. "They're getting married, not dating each other."

Marshalling all of her intellect, Hermione managed to come up with a response. "Huh?"

"Oh, dear." Ginny took Hermione by the hand and sat her and the chiffon down on a bench. "When I marry, it'll be for love. When you marry, and I hope you find the right witch or wizard soon - " Witch? "you'll probably marry for love. But no one expects a Malfoy to do that, and honestly, Harry probably couldn't, either. Of course, usually Malfoys marry witches, so they couldn't love them anyway."

Hermione could only blink.

"Oh, goodness, Hermione. You didn't know? I don't think there has been a straight Malfoy man since the Restoration. They've been breeding for homosexuality since Salazar's day. Cuts down on bastards, you know? Also makes for a fabulous Manor. And then they can pick a wife for her connections plus ability to run the estate and entertain and have a child or two. If she preferred her own sex, so much the better." Ginny grinned. "So this is doubly ironic. The best possible marriage Draco could make is to a man, but it's to a man he hates."

"But poor Harry!"

"Harry will be fine. He has to know this is brilliant. It brings both sides together, so we don't ever have a repeat of this bloody War, and it unites their fortunes. And he can have all the girlfriends he wants, especially if one of them wants to carry his heir."

"Ginny. Harry's gay, too. He dated half the Hufflepuff boys during the War. Remember?" Hermione got up. The chiffon got up with her.

"So? He'll take on boys, then. He's rich, handsome and famous. All they need is a broodmare, and she can carry their heir to term. They can do the whole thing by owl if they want. I couldn't be happier for him."

Insane. All of them were insane.

And now here she was, in that damned chiffon, standing next to Harry as his bridegroom the wedding cake walked down the aisle, his mother looking as if she were showing off her prize poodle beside him. And everyone was applauding, and it was a nightmare. She'd been trying to pull Harry aside for weeks to talk some sense into him, but he kept on arguing with Malfoy about flower arrangements and ignoring her. Flower arrangements! He wasn't even carrying a bouquet.

Draco, however, was. White roses tied with more lace. It was more precious than the dress.

And Dennis Creevey was recording it all for both The Prophet and The Quibbler. He'd sent the Howler, but Harry insisted anyway he be there with his brother's camera anyway.

Finally, Draco reached the podium. Mrs.Malfoy, wiping her face with still more lace, sat next to her husband and smiled at him. He smiled damply back.

And Draco looked at Harry, and Hermione looked at one to the other. Both men had tears in their eyes, and when Harry reached out to take Draco's hand, his own hand trembled.

How had she not noticed this before? How had she been this blind? How had she not seen that they were truly in love? And how could he do that to her?

They tore their eyes apart very quickly, as if guilty about something - and then both of them winked at her.

McGonagall performed a passable ceremony; they had a perfunctory kiss at the end, which made Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Malfoy's guard all cry very loudly and then they walked as far apart as they could down the aisle.

But later on, when the reception was in full swing, Hermione managed to catch them snogging behind a very large pot plant. She grinned at them and went to claim a dance from Ginny.