The Soul Mate Law | By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 25497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction. |
“A Double Wedding”
“You look lovely,” Crookshanks said, stroking Hermione’s hair away from her neck. “Perfect. I am glad that I married you. No one else can claim you now.” He nuzzled the soft, peach-scented skin. “You are mine.”
Hermione chewed the inside of her cheeks, trying not to let herself be affected either by his words or his actions. But his lips were getting dangerously close to her ear…
“Have you got your tie on properly?” she blurted out. There was a pause, and then he moved back.
“I think so,” he said. Her heart sank at the lost opportunity, but they had a wedding to attend and she didn’t want to get there late. “Does it look right?”
“Almost,” she said. With a gentle tug she pulled the knot straight and smiled up at her husband. It was almost like one of those television or movie moments, where the woman straightens the tie of the man she loves.
If only it could be true here.
“I will just get the presents,” Crookshanks said softly, and Hermione watched as he walked over to their bed. They had bought both couples a Self-Filling-In Calendar. As every important event occurred it would automatically be marked on the calendar. And, since it just changed the positions of the days each year they would never need to buy another one. Hermione, knowing how disorganised her ‘boys’ could be, decided that these gifts would be perfect, especially with the number of children which had to be born.
Children. That was why she, at only three months pregnant, looked as though she was five or six months along. Healer Dukas had assured her that this was perfectly normal with triplets, despite the ‘unusual circumstances’.
“I feel sorry for them,” she said, trying to distract herself from this turn of thoughts. By now she and Crookshanks were at the fireplace in their living room.
“For whom?” he asked.
“Both brides and grooms,” she said. “Harry and Ginny should be having a lovely wedding all to themselves, without Ron and Millicent there to sour things. If they were in love it would be all right, but they’re… they’re just not.”
“Come,” he said. “You first, my dear.”
As soon as Hermione had disappeared in a whirl of flames he adjusted the presents under his arm, gave her enough time to move away at the other end, and followed her to Bulstrode Estate. She was a bridesmaid, so they were meeting Ginny and Millicent at the latter’s home, where there was enough room for all the guests of each couple for both the ceremony and reception. Ron and Harry had put up a bit of a fuss at first, but Ginny had surprisingly been on Millicent’s side.
It was only a few days after their first appointment with Healer Dukas that an announcement came out in the Prophet. A timeline had now been placed on the wedding dates, and anyone who hadn’t yet booked had to hurry up. In the end the date set was Halloween.
As Hermione had said, “Poor Harry just isn’t winning, is he? If his bride was anyone else I don’t think he’d be able to cope…”
Crookshanks had privately agreed. Potter’s second wedding anniversary would be the twentieth anniversary of his parents’ death.
“Ah, Crookshanks,” Arthur Weasley said, walking forward. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. No doubt she was already with the brides. “Presents are over here for the time being. Do you want a drink?”
“Thank you, Arthur. Any milk?”
He cringed when the redhead chuckled. “Of course.”
“Sorry. It is a habit I am trying to break. I should have water. Yes. Is there any Gillywater?”
“There is. Right this way…”
“This. Is. Stupid,” Millicent declared, glaring at her reflection. There were two full-length mirrors, one for each bride. Ginny was half-smiling at the picture she made in her gown, but she frowned at the other woman’s comment.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“This!” She waved her hands up and down.
“I don’t see anything wrong,” Hermione said. She tugged at the skirt of the elaborate dress to make it flare out a bit more. “It looks just fine.”
Millicent snorted. “The outfit’s okay,” she said. “It’s the bride that looks…” She closed her eyes, turning her head away. “Well, let’s be honest. I’m the last person anyone would think of marrying.”
“No,” Hermione said. “That would be me. Especially at the moment.” She looked down mournfully at her baby bump. “Most of the people I know would still remember my bushy hair and buck teeth. Add my Muggle heritage…” She shrugged. “And you’re a hell of a lot more bearable than Pug-Face Parkinson.”
“Than who?” Millicent asked, wide-eyed. “You mean Pansy? Oh my gods.” She started to laugh. “That’s hilarious!”
Ginny grinned at Hermione. ‘Thanks,’ she mouthed. Hermione nodded back.
“Harry and Ron will drool over both of you,” she said. “You’re both radiant, you have killer white dresses, it’s a lovely day, and – from what I’ve seen out the window – the yard looks wonderful. You’ve got your families with you, you’re about to marry two of the most eligible bachelors in the wizarding world, both war heroes and both Ministry workers. They’re kind and brave, not to mention good-looking. They’re both fit from playing Quidditch. If they weren’t like brothers to me I’d probably be jealous.”
“Except you’re already married,” Millicent pointed out.
“And thanks for the advertisement,” Ginny added playfully.
Hermione ignored the redhead. “I worried a bit about the marriage, but at least you’ve known your fiancé’s longer than I knew Crookshanks. I couldn’t even have a conversation with him until he became human, not unless I became a cat Animagus or something. And, thanks to the fact that he was a cat, I’m pregnant with triplets. I had abuse hurled at me when the news came out that I was marrying my former cat…”
“Wait, what abuse?” Ginny asked. She and Millicent were now frowning. Hermione sighed.
“Just some letters,” she said, waving her hand. “After the article came out I got a lot of hate mail, like the time in our fourth year when Rita Skeeter wrote about me a-and Harry and Viktor. At least it was only insults this time.”
“Only?”
“You know…” She trailed off, but they didn’t look satisfied with her answer. “Saying that I didn’t deserve any better because I’m a m-mudblood… that sort of thing.”
“Bloody hell,” Millicent whispered. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”
“Why? I didn’t get anything from you, though some of the letters were from members of your family. And they weren’t all about my blood. Some were referring to the old articles about me ‘breaking’ Harry’s heart.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Listen. Forget about this. It’s your wedding day.”
“Hermione, why didn’t you tell us?” Ginny asked, grabbing her hand. “Did you tell Crookshanks?”
“No, but he knew that something was wrong. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s been so good to me.” She walked over to one of the mirrors and looked at herself. “The point that I’m trying to make is that you’re both lucky. Your situations could be worse. Like…”
“Like yours?” Millicent said. Hermione didn’t reply. “Yeah. We should think like that.”
“I don’t know who I feel more sorry for,” Ginny said, her lips twitching. “Draco Malfoy or Gregory Goyle.”
The young women looked at each other and shared a quiet giggle.
Crookshanks knew that he would regret listening to his wife’s conversation. He was coming to check on them when he heard Hermione talking about her friends, no doubt comforting the brides. That was just like her.
Then he heard his name and listened. The guilt of impregnating her with triplet children came back in a rush, but was quickly pushed aside by rage when Hermione talked about the scathing letters. Had he known just how bad things had been he would have done something about it. He had sworn to protect her, after all.
The fact that she kept this secret to protect him made his heart leap.
But when he heard the Bulstrode girl say ‘Like yours?’ he felt as though his lungs had been crushed. Not wanting to hear anymore he left quickly and quietly. He didn’t want to hear his wife say ‘yes’. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that it would hurt even more.
True, she had said that he’d been good to her. Hell, he’d been doing his best to make everything as easy as possible, but it was so difficult. Try as he might, he was still thinking like his old self too often. He just didn’t have the instincts of a human; he was an incomplete husband for his mistress.
“Damn,” he muttered, leaning against the wall. Well, he’d certainly picked up human swearing. “What more can I do?”
He shook his head, waited a minute, and then went back to the bridal chamber.
The girls shrieked when someone knocked at the door, and then laughed. They’d cheered up a bit by now and were making jokes about Lucius Malfoy’s attempts to stop the marriage of his son to Goyle. Apparently someone had actually had the balls to mention male pregnancy. Lucius nearly had a heart attack.
“Who is it?” Hermione called. She heard someone clear their throat, and knew who it was immediately. “Oh, come in, Crookshanks.”
He opened the door enough to poked his head into the room. His expression was blank.
“When will you be ready?” he asked quietly. Hermione frowned.
“Um… give us another half hour?” she said. She glanced at her two friends and they nodded. “Yes. Half an hour should do it.”
“Do you want some drinks?”
“The house elves already provided something,” Millicent said. Hermione flinched a bit, but told her inner SPEW campaigner to shut up. “Thanks anyway.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. He glanced at the brides. “You both look nice.” Before they could reply he continued. “Do you have any messages for your grooms?”
“Nope,” Ginny said, smirking. Millicent shook her head. Crookshanks nodded and then left, closing the door firmly behind him. Hermione frowned.
“Did something seem… different about him?” she asked.
“How should we know?” Millicent asked. “You’re his wife.”
That’s not quite how it works, Hermione thought, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she helped the brides with their hair makeup.
As she was pulling off her outer robes to finish getting ready herself she paused.
“He heard us,” she said, her voice cracking.
“What?” Ginny asked as she put down her eyebrow pencil.
“Crooks. He must have heard us talking before.”
“Hey!” Millicent said, glancing at the clock. “It’s almost time. Are you nearly done, Hermione?”
“Um… yes,” she said, patting down her hair. She hurriedly smoothed her blue dress, the ‘neutral’ colour they had decided upon. But she couldn’t think about that at the moment.
And yet… her friends were about to get married. She couldn’t disappoint them by being distracted with her own personal problems.
She just hoped that, for once, her deductions were wrong.
It was a nice ceremony. There were no fireworks – literal or metaphoric – but neither were there any fights, objections or bad weather. Hermione kept glancing at Crookshanks, thankful that there was very little for her to do once she had preceded the brides down the aisle. His stony face confirmed her fears. He had been so tender, even affectionate, that morning, and now she had gone and ruined it. Twice.
How could she make it up to him?
The ‘first dance’ finished. Harry and Ginny lingered, but Millicent and Ron separated hastily. She rolled her eyes when she saw this. Honestly. They were behaving like children.
Mr. Bulstrode and Arthur both started to dance with their daughters. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Will you dance with me?” Crookshanks asked. She nodded and he led her onto the dance floor.
“Thank you,” she said as they moved into position.
“We are married; it is expected,” he said.
“…Oh.”
“But,” he continued, “I would not want anyone else to claim this dance with you.”
She smiled shyly. “I would have said ‘no’ to anyone else.”
He looked pleased.
As they danced Hermione pushed herself to say something. She didn’t want to, just in case she was wrong, but she had to make this right.
“Crooks,” she began.
“Yes, Hermione?”
“I…” Gods, what to say? “Nothing.”
“Why did you not tell me what those letters contained?” he asked. She blushed. She had forgotten that he was a Legillimens.
“I feared that you’d feel bad about it,” she said. “And honestly, what could anyone do? The Prophet was very careful about its wording, and I could hardly sue each and every person who wrote to me. Very few signed their names, all of them powerful, most of them purebloods. Then there were the misguided people who still thought that I broke Harry’s heart – and Viktor’s heart – in my fourth year. Do you remember all that?”
“Yes. I recall how upset you were. I wanted to scratch their eyes out.”
She bowed her head, unable to hide her bashful smile. “Unfortunately, no matter how much weight I still pull there was nothing I could really do. To acknowledge any of the… messages would be to show that they affected me.”
“But they did.”
“Yes, but I didn’t want them to know that they did,” she said. “That’s how The Game is played.” Crookshanks noticed the bitterness in her tone.
“I can see the advantage in ignoring them,” he said.
His initial question just confirmed Hermione’s fears. He had heard them.
“Crookshanks, what I was saying to the girls before the wedding…”
“You were consoling them,” he said. “I do see that. But I know that marrying a cat – and half-kneazle – is hardly the situation any bride wants.”
“Do you… do you know what I was thinking the day of our wedding?” she asked.
“‘Why me?’” he suggested. She chuckled and shook her head.
“I was thinking just how lucky I was to be marrying my best friend,” she said. She stepped closer into his arms and rested her head against his chest. “I couldn’t imagine a better situation. What if I’d been with someone I barely knew, who barely knew me, who wanted me for my… ‘fame’?” She said the word with complete distaste. “During our first year together you were my only friend when Harry and Ron abandoned me. You’ve always been there for me; you’ve always been on my side.”
He smiled down at her and stroked her curls off her neck again. This time she leaned into his touch, forgetting their surroundings, at least until the music stopped and everyone applauded the small orchestra.
She looked up at her husband and knew that things were better… at least for the time being.
A/N: I apologise if I sound a bit ominous at the end. That is, indeed, on purpose.
One chapter to go! There would have been more posts had the chapters been shorter, but people keep asking me to write longer instalments. I guess you could call this practise for future long-chaptered stories. (I sure as heck need the practise.)
Anyway, please review if you enjoyed it! Or if you have constructive criticism. If you don’t know how to post constructive criticism, i.e. in a non-flame-y way, then don’t bother. It’s just aggravating when someone says that they’re not flaming when they are. Grr!
*Smiles for the benefit of non-flamers*
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo