The Silver Envelope

Sand Aglow

Draco watched Hermione go with a smirk, not bothering to follow after her. She might have hexed him if he did anyway. Instead, he strolled off to find a drink.
It turned out that the parasols had another use. Everyone watched as Potter planted his, handle down, into the sand, and stood back as a small, circular table covered in white lace sprouted up in its place. Lit candles surrounded by greenery popped into existence onto it, providing the perfect space to talk and sip a drink.
Following suit, more people planted their umbrellas, delighting as they transformed into tables or popped into a few wooden chairs. Several of the tables also sprouted platters of hors d'oeuvres.
At the end of the beach closest to the cliffside, a group of wizards were waving their wands at the sand to create a solid platform for dancing, along with a small stage. A musical quartet ascended it and struck up a lively tune, even as more guests floated over their heads, aiming for the sand.
Several people stepped onto the stage to dance, but most of the others went to find drinks and congratulate the newlyweds.
A golden fountain had been set up in the middle of the sand, gushing what appeared to be champagne. Tiny bubbles floated away from it on the breeze. Nearby, Draco spotted a real bar, and went to go find something suitable to drink.
He took the golden cup the server gave him and turned around to discover Weasley, red-faced and furious, blocking his path.
"What are you doing here?" Weasley barked at him.
Delicately, Draco sipped his drink.
"I did a favor for the bride. She saw fit to repay me with an invitation," Draco said with a small
smile.
"Ginny invited you?" Weasley said with a disbelieving scowl.
"She did indeed. Now, if you'll excuse me...
" Draco slipped past him.
"You stay away from Hermione," Weasley growled. Draco was sure he meant it to be menacing, but to his ears, it sounded rather like a kneazle pretending to be a manticore.
Draco couldn't help the smirk spreading up the side of his face.
"And if I don't?" he prompted. "Will you make another pathetic attempt at dueling me?"
He looked like a red balloon that was ready to pop. Between that and Weasley's hair, Draco thought he had never seen two such abhorrently clashing colors
Draco leaned in a bit, lowering his voice.
"I dearly hope you do. I will never tire of knocking you on your arse. It's fast becoming one of my favorite hobbies
Weasley reached for his wand, but Draco was ready.
"Latera," Draco spoke softly.
A spark of pink light shot into Weasley's face, startling him back. He recovered quickly, lifting his hand to shoot a hex back at Draco.
The wrong hand.
Weasley looked at his empty hand, confused. His wand hung uselessly at his side, still in his other hand. Weasley tried to turn around to look for where his wand had gone, but he crossed his legs wrong and stumbled.
Holding back a howl of laughter, Draco gave Weasley a small wave goodbye and strode away toward the edge of the beach. His harmless left-and-right-reversal spell would wear off in a minute or two. More than that might be enough to get him thrown out of the wedding, so this small revenge would have to do for the moment.
Laughter and music filled the air as the sky turned from coral pink to dusty lavender. Draco banished his shoes, enjoying the feeling of sand between his toes as he walked past the line where the ground became flat and damp. As the light faded from the sky, Draco noticed that the sand itself was changing as well, beginning to glow softly. He looked back to the rest of the beach behind him, watching as more guests began to notice the faint, golden glow forming beneath their feet. Draco suspected that by the time the sky was fully dark, the glow would be bright enough to avoid the need for overhead lighting. Ingenious.
He walked barefoot in the foamy, lukewarm ocean, listening to the rush of the waves as did. While he had been invited, he knew this party wasn't really for him. The other guests, the ones Potter had wanted to come, crowded around the dance floor, merrily chatting and drinking, paying little attention to the former Death Eater who was currently allowing the hem of his trousers to soak in
Brown curls caught his eye. Surreptitiously, Draco watched as Hermione talked with the bride, his eyes catching on the rosy, silk dress that flowed over Hermione's luscious curves. Her face was alight with happiness for her friends. Potter hugged Ginny from behind as they all spoke, resting his chin on the top of her flower-bedecked head. Something funny happened to his gut at the sight of the couple, like a leaping flurry of motion that promptly crashed into a wreck of achy longing.
Draco looked away, breathing deeply to rid himself of the sensation.
It wasn't long before the couple of the hour made their way to the dance floor and began to waltz.
Draco watched with one eye as he soaked up the rushing of the waves beneath his feet. Potter had clearly practiced, though his stilted movements spoke of someone who knew exactly one dance style. Draco snorted. At least Potter wasn't as bad as he'd been at the Yule Ball. Progress was
progress
Hermione was hovering at the edge of the dance floor, watching as other couples joined the newlyweds. She seemed to be unaware that Weasley was hanging behind her, looking nervous.
Draco drained his drink. It wasn't his business if she danced with Weasley.
Yet.
But to his surprise, Viktor Krum reached for her hand before Weasley could get there.
Draco wasn't sure how he felt as he watched Hermione blush and accept Krum's hand. Certainly it
was better than seeing her dance with Weasley, who was currently looking at them with open hostility. Laughing softly, Draco realized that Ginny's plan might not be necessary after all.
Perhaps Krum would take care of things naturally.
Still, Draco wasn't about to leave. He had a job to do.
Scanning the crowd of guests, Draco took note of several reporters and photographers on the beach. He would keep an eye on them as the evening drew on.
Hermione smiled up at Krum as they danced, and Draco felt himself tighten a bit. He almost felt sorry for Weasley. The sight of those two together was a flashback to a miserable time. Draco sighed. At least he didn't have to dance with Pansy this time.
"It's rude not to ask your date to dance with you," said a light, dreamy voice behind him.
Draco started and whirled around to find Luna Lovegood, holding the hem of her bright green dress up to her knees as she braced for a low wave to rush past her. Draco smiled blandly.
"Hermione is not my date," Draco said.
Luna shuffled her feet, sinking deeper into the sand. Her long, dark blonde hair hung over her face as she watched the foamy water ebb
"Oh. I guess she just wishes you were, then," Luna said.
Draco blinked in surprise at her assumption. Or did she somehow know?
"I'm so happy they had the wedding here," Luna went on. "Canada is beautiful, but very cold. It's nice to be somewhere warm."
Draco didn't respond. Luna seemed fine with that. She extricated her feet from the sand and performed a childlike twirl as the next wave splashed at her legs.
It had been a long time since he'd last seen her. Those had unquestionably been the worst months of his life, more so even than his sixth year at Hogwarts. It had been even worse for Luna, though somehow she'd been able to maintain her odd, pleasant outlook on life. Despite not being held prisoner the way she had been, Draco had become the very worst version of himself during that time. He had a strange, reluctant admiration for her because of it.
"How have you been, Lovegood?" Draco asked.
She beamed at him.

"How kind of you to ask! I'm excellent. I've been abroad studying magizoology. It's ever so fascinating, but I didn't want to miss Ginny's wedding. She looks so happy with Harry." Luna let out a wistful sigh. "How have vou been. Draco?"
Draco blinked. He had expected her to call him Malfoy, as everyone else did. He wondered if she'd heard Hermione use his first name. Did that mean she was talking about him?
"Er, I'm excellent as well," he lied. "Just...enjoying the beach."
"I told Hermione how nice you were, by the way," Luna said. "You're welcome."
Draco smiled despite himself.
"Thanks, Luna, but I doubt it'll make much of a difference to her."
"You're wrong," Luna said sagely. "It's already made a difference. Do you want to go and dance?
Or are you planning to stop Ron from parading Hermione around all night long?" Luna asked.
Draco furrowed his brows at her.
"It's Krum dancing with her, not Weasley." Luna only gave him a vague smile.
"Not anymore," she sang.
Draco's eyes zeroed in on Hermione once more. Luna had been right. Weasley was holding her waist with both of his hands, scooting her around the dance floor in small circles. That icy rage he'd felt when Ginny had talked to him, the one that had reappeared in his chest when he'd seen Hermione sitting next to Weasley in the front row earlier, crackled within him.
His hands would not be on her for long.
"Lovegood. Come and dance with me," he said, holding his hand out to her.
She smiled sweetly and took it.

Chapter End Notes

What do you think Ron is going to do?