Absolute Power

1 - The Wedding

"10 thousand galleons? Blimey, makes me want to ditch this stupid quest and go hunting for Malfoy." Ron throws the copy of the Daily Prophet onto the kitchen bench that the three of them surrounded. Harry laughs, agreeing with his best friend. Hermione can't help but frown, wondering if they're taking this as seriously as her. She opens her mouth to start what would no doubt be a lecture on motivation and determination when Harry claps her on the shoulder and gives her a soothing rub. 

"We're only joking, Hermione. But you gotta admit, any chance to lock Malfoy up would be welcomed." Harry gives her a sly grin that she tries not to return. 

"Who knows, maybe the dumb git will turn up to Hogwarts in September and Hermione can nab him. Think of it!" Ron's face-splitting grin lights up the room. 

"The Order could definitely use the money," Hermione muses, studying the portrait of Draco that stares up at her from the paper, "and it's been a few years since I punched him last. Probably due for another soon." She grins up at her friends and sees her own nostalgia reflected back at her. Ron guffaws in laughter, replaying the scene in his head. He and Harry delve into an active retelling of that fateful night as Hermione dips under Harry's arm and rounds the counter to the kitchen sink. She offers a glass of water to the boys but they're too busy with each other to hear her. Sighing, she leans back against the counter and finds herself staring at the wanted poster again. 

In the dreary black and white print of the Daily Prophet, Malfoy's eyes look grey as they stare into the camera. His hair is combed neatly, not a single strand out of place. The photo must have been cropped from a family portrait of some kind, as she can see the slender hand which can only belong to Narcissa Malfoy resting on his shoulder. The image blinks once, twice, and his eyes flicker to his left, where she guesses Lucius would be standing. Then the loop starts again and she feels as though he's staring into her soul. She flips the page, hiding the prying eyes of Draco Malfoy. 

She can't fathom having a wedding at such a time, but here she is, puttering around the kitchen and trying her hardest to avoid the whirlwind that is Molly Weasley. Out the back window, she can see the boys sipping happily on butterbeer and raising the marquee that in a few short hours, Fleur will be walking down. She had been offered a gig as a bridesmaid but politely turned it down, knowing that her taking a dive in front of the admittedly few guests would be enough to dampen the jolly spirits of the summer afternoon. Hermione and heels? It would be like adding flax seeds to a sleepless draught potion. A nightmare. 

"Hermione, would you be a dear and take the silverware out to the table?" Molly gestures in the direction of the large basket of silverware that Hermione had been polishing the evening before.

"Of course. The plates as well?" Molly gives her a grateful smile over her shoulder as she places a tray of potatoes into the oven. Hermione returns it and levitates the basket and a large stack of fine china behind her as she ventures into the garden. 

"Jeez, Hermione!" A whistle from her left causes her to whip her head around. Fred and George are ogling her in her dress, which she dug out from the back of her closet at home especially for the occasion. Originally black, Hermione used a simple charm to turn it a vibrant red. She blushes and in her distraction, almost runs into Ron. He catches her elbow and looks her up and down. 

"You- you look... um.."

"Great. You look great, Hermione." Harry saves his friend and gives Ron a sharp elbow to the ribs. "You'd think after the whole Yule ball fiasco, this idiot would be a little smoother." 

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Always a tone of surprise with him." She scolds playfully, but her heart flutters in her chest. Her crush on Ron was obvious to everyone - except apparently Ron himself. She was hoping that would all change tonight. She had spent a good hour in the bathroom with Ginny, charming her hair to be silky instead of the usual ball of frizz, and experimenting with makeup that Ginny seemed to be an expert in. The whole time, Ginny was lamenting how wonderful it would be to have Hermione as her sister-in-law. She can't lie, it had filled her with a bubbly sort of hope that was certain to carry her through the night.