Soul Mate - Chapter 27:
Draco wasn’t surprised when, a few days later,
he heard that Harry’s proposal had been successful.
The youngest Weasley girl had always adored him, it was only natural she’d said yes.
What did surprise Draco, however, was that Harry had asked his mother,
Narcissa, to join the wedding planning as one of the family elders.
Since when had Harry and his mother become so close?
Draco let out a dry laugh at the thought.
For wizards, it wasn’t unusual to marry soon after leaving school.
Harry and Ginny skipped any formal engagement and
dove straight into wedding preparations. Ron and Hermione’s ceremony was
already set for October, so Harry and Ginny planned theirs for November.
Someone even joked about holding a double wedding, but that was quickly vetoed.
Molly Weasley was busier than anyone sending off one child and
welcoming another into the family but she seemed delighted by it all,
full of energy and warmth. Narcissa, to everyone’s shock (especially Ron’s),
volunteered to help with the preparations too.
And it turned out that both Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy were frighteningly efficient women.
Not only was Ron and Hermione’s wedding ready on schedule,
but most of Harry and Ginny’s plans were finished by the time the first one began.
On the wedding day, Hermione was radiant, and Ron looked more mature than
Draco had ever seen him. The ceremony was held,
as Bill’s had been, in the wide grassy field behind the Burrow.
A grand tent shimmered under the sunlight, music drifted out, and laughter filled the air.
Draco stood outside alone, a glass of wine in hand, listening to the music spill from the tent.
His expression was unreadable as he looked up at the sky. The night had grown cool,
and he murmured a warming charm under his breath he refused to catch a chill
from attending a Weasley wedding.
Perhaps he was a little envious, he admitted silently.
To marry someone you actually liked… how simple and wonderful that seemed.
His own engagement to Astoria Greengrass had been arranged after fewer than ten conversations
between them. Even now, they kept in touch only through polite, obligatory owl letters.
Next year, when she graduated, they would have their own wedding, elegant,
well-mannered, the perfect public display of mutual respect.
His mother would no doubt invite the Minister of Magic to officiate
another glittering testament to the prestige of the Malfoy name.
But to Draco, that ceremony would mean nothing more than a
transaction a tidy union of family interests wrapped in gold and lace.
Harry’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Draco, what are you doing out here all alone?”
“Just needed some air,” Draco replied evenly.
“What about you? Shouldn’t you be inside with your fiancée?
Seems a bit neglectful of you, doesn’t it?”
Harry smiled sheepishly. “Ginny’s busy plotting new ways to embarrass Ron and Hermione.
I can already tell they’ll find a way to get back at us next month.
Shame Astoria couldn’t make it, though.”
“She’s in her final year,” Draco said lightly.
“Best not to take unnecessary leaves from school.”
Even if, once she married into the Malfoy family, her N.E.W.T.s scores would mean very little.
Harry hesitated, then said, “Don’t be mad at me for saying this, Draco, but…
I think Astoria doesn’t really suit you.”
He meant it. Whenever he saw them together, something about it felt wrong.
Draco seemed too sharp, too bright for her quiet, well-bred presence.
He deserved someone… else. Someone who could stand beside him as an equal.
Draco didn’t get angry. He merely arched an eyebrow.
“No, Harry. She suits me perfectly.”
He put deliberate weight on the word suits.
His gray-blue eyes turned toward the distant sky.
“You see, people like me don’t marry for love. We marry for compatibility
and by that, I mean family lineage.”
Harry frowned, uncomfortable. “So as long as someone’s bloodline and status fit the Malfoy
standards, it doesn’t matter who they are? You’d marry anyone?”
“Exactly,” Draco said without a flicker of hesitation.
Harry muttered, “I hate that.”
He didn’t even know why he felt so frustrated only that he did.
“If you’d been raised the way I was, you wouldn’t think it strange,”
Draco said calmly, sensing Harry’s irritation and deftly steering the conversation away.
“By the way, I heard the Auror Office has been busy lately
something about hunting down illegal dark wizards?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah. The Saints. You’ve probably heard of them.”
“If I’m not mistaken, that was Grindelwald’s original organization,”
Draco mused. “But their activity has been nearly nonexistent for decades.
The Saints were mostly confined to Germany. Britain’s never had trouble with them before…”
He trailed off as realization dawned. The sadness in Harry’s expression told him everything.
Connecting the dots with what he knew from old Malfoy records, Draco’s eyes widened slightly.
“Don’t tell me the reason the Saints never invaded Britain back then was because
Grindelwald stayed his hand… for Dumbledore?”
Harry sighed. “That’s the truth.”
Draco let out a low whistle. “Remarkable. The greatest white wizard of the century and the first
Dark Lord—bound by a secret love. Grindelwald letting himself rot in Nurmengard for
Dumbledore’s sake… confirmed by Harry Potter himself.
The Prophet would pay handsomely for that headline.”
“Don’t you dare!” Harry snapped, suddenly on guard.
Draco smirked. “Relax. The Malfoy family isn’t desperate enough to sell gossip for gold.
Besides, Rita Skeeter would twist the story beyond recognition.
The woman’s terrifying.”
Harry glared at him. “Says the man who worked with her in fourth year to leak stories about me!”
Draco shrugged, unrepentant. “That was years ago.
Anyway, you haven’t told me why are the Saints resurfacing now, and in Britain of all places?”
“We’re not sure,” Harry admitted. “Seems there’s a new leader trying to expand influence here.
Honestly, I’m sick of it. We barely got rid of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and now this.
Can’t I have a few years of peace?”
Draco chuckled, his smirk returning. “Our glorious Savior, still young and full of energy.
I’m sure the Auror Department will keep you plenty busy.”
“Draco!” Harry protested, exasperated.
Draco only gave him a faint smile. After a pause, he said,
“Harry, I might not make it to your wedding next month.
The Ministry’s sending me abroad from the end of this month until early December.”
Harry groaned. “You’re unbelievable! My wedding,
Draco. Once in a lifetime, and you’re skipping it?”
“Can’t be helped,” Draco said softly. “Work is work. But don’t worry
your gift will be… memorable.”
He gave Harry a brief wave, then turned and disappeared back into the tent,
leaving Harry fuming under the cool, starlit sky.