sparks~drarry

Aureum: Part Three

Description: the final set in the Aureum mini series.

Warnings: none

Song: Electric Love by BØRNS

Notes: Hey, sorry about not posting for awhile, I lost my phone for like a week. So, here's the unwanted final chapter :)

Length: 1.8k words

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Third Person

A day later, the silk of Draco's jacket burned like a brand against his body. His mouth tasted sour, and his thoughts raced, never quite still enough to truly think. The tie he had on itched - it was white as snow, woven with gold that made his gray eyes almost seem blue, but he hated it. Why? Because his father wore the exact same one at his wedding.

His mother gripped his hand tightly, her lips pressed so tightly together that they were pale. The dress she had on for the wedding was nearly identical to the one she wore the night, save for the color; it was emerald instead of sapphire, making her stand out from the attendees who wore the traditional scarlet garb.

"Zmaj, darling, you're going to be fine," she promised firmly, squeezing his hand. He couldn't muster the energy to do the same.

He was not going to be fine. Suddenly, it felt as if the tie around his neck were choking him. He gagged, but hid the movement behind his shaking hand.

His mother began to walk towards the iron wrought gate that led to the garden, vines sprouting white blossoms crawling up the metal. He followed hesitantly.

On your wedding day, the air is supposed to be electric. It is supposed to hiss with the lightning brought on by your feelings for one another, wild and free, a storm. But the air, on that day, was stifling in its heat and dry as bone. To Draco's eyes, the flowers leered at him like jeering children. To the rest of the world, they were jewels set upon emerald leaves. To Draco's eyes, the crowd of murmuring people was dark in its intent. To the rest of the world, the crowd was joyous and celebrating something beautiful. But that something was not beautiful to him.

He stood up to his place at the altar, not even bothering to smile. For how could he?

- - -

Harry's hand was tight on his blade. The group had set camp just two miles away from Scio Manor the night before, and just as dawn broke, they left the outcropping and ventured towards the headquarters. As they neared, the sound of violins and a piano met Harry's ears.

"Do you hear that?" he murmured, his gaze sliding to Pulchra Lovegood.

She nodded slowly. "Wedding music."

"Surely not," Callidus Rosenhart interjected, her lips curling. "Who would get married at Scio Manor? That's horrendous."

"Perhaps a favored Callidus?" Hermione suggested. Immediately, Callidus Rosenhart shook her head violently.

"That... according to reports, that would be considered blasphemy."

"Er, change, perhaps?" Sana Abbott's voice was still thick with lethargy.

"Maybe," the callidus mumbled, her face flushing with red heat. Harry smiled slightly at Hermione, and when she returned his smile, he knew immediately she had realized the callidus and the sana knew each other much better than they had previously believed. Ron had, when we were leaving camp, crudely suggested that he had caught the two having sex, but Harry doubted it.

"Anyway, if it's a wedding like Pulchra Lovegood suggested, we'll have a much easier time retrieving Zmaj, whoever he is," Sana Abbott pointed out.