Harry apparated to the Ministry and walked swiftly toward the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, avoiding crowds and well-wishers. He pushed his way through the big double doors into a vast room with many desks and wizards and witches sitting behind them, each with odd objects in front of them. Some had dancing toasters, lawnmowers that wriggled away when you tried to grasp the handles, teapots that sang songs instead of whistling, radios that barked, and shoes that kept sticking out their tongues, refusing to be worn.

He spied a tall ginger-haired man closely studying an alarm clock and headed for him. The man perked up when Harry neared. "Harry! It's good to see you. Term over already?"

Several people at nearby desks lifted their heads, did double takes, and made quiet hand signals to notify other witches and wizards across the room of Harry's presence. Harry tried to ignore it. He wondered if he'd ever stop being the Famous Harry Potter.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley. Yeah. All the students have gone."

"Back in London, then?"

"No, I still have quite a bit of work to do so I've delayed getting back to my flat." He dropped his eyes from the older man's face and glanced at the ordinary looking wind-up clock on Mr. Weasley's desk. "What have you got there?"

His face, which had been all smiles when he saw Harry, now screwed up into deep contemplation. "Well now. This one's a bit dodgy. Instead of waking up the Muggle when the alarm rings, it casts a spell which puts the poor blighter into a deeper sleep. I can't make much headway because I keep dozing off."

"How about a bubble spell around it so you can still see the affects but not be affected yourself?"

"Harry, my boy! What an excellent idea! I should have consulted the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher straight away."

Harry felt his face flush. "You would have thought of it soon enough."

Mr. Weasley smiled and took down a few notes on a parchment. "Here to see Ron?" he asked without looking up.

"Yeah." He looked around. "Is he here?"

"Yes. He's in the back room, I expect, filing away the Unfixables."

"Unfixables?"

"Yes, there are just some things even witches and wizards can't fix. If they are very dangerous, we simply destroy them, but if they aren't we keep them around to test our skills and in case some young hot shot can figure out a way to unhex them. Say, maybe I can send some of them to you and in your off hours you can have a go, eh?"

"That might be fun. Where exactly is the back room?"

"That way." Mr. Weasley pointed with his quill behind him toward a door painted bright orange. "Mind yourself when you go in. Sometimes these artifacts go a bit off."

"Right. Will do. See you later, Mr. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley waved and sunk back into contemplating his alarm clock while Harry moved off toward the orange door. Standing in front of it, Harry knocked tentatively at first, then touched the knob. "Hello? Anyone there?" He pushed opened the door and cautiously peered around it. Ron was there, all right, but he was furiously waving his wand trying to get the artifacts to obey him and get back on their shelves. A vicious-looking set of teacups snapped their saucers at him and a large square picnic basket menaced his feet with a slithering checkered tablecloth.

"Evanesco!" yelled Harry, flicking his wand.

The objects rushed back to their shelves and sat quietly, though some trembled and weaved.

Ron looked up perplexed and turned, smiling on recognizing Harry. "Thanks, mate. I think I allowed things to get a bit out of hand."

"A bit." Harry glanced nervously around the shelf-lined room and at all the artifacts seeming to heave and breathe, just waiting to swoop down on them at the wrong word. He didn't like the look of a particularly wrinkled suit jacket. "Mind if we get out of here?"

"Not at all. It's lunchtime and I'm starved!"

* * *

Harry smiled across the table at his friend as Ron stuffed more curry into his mouth. He knocked back his pint, wiped his lips with his serviette, and leaned his arms on the table. "So Harry. What brings you to your favorite place?"

At least they left the Ministry building to get their lunch. Ron favored a little curry shop around the corner, decidedly Muggle so he was sure not to run into any of his associates who might tend to bother Harry.

"To see you, of course. With the both of us working all the time and you married, I don't get to see you nearly as much as I'd like."

"Isn't that the truth? Who knew, eh? So how did your first year teaching work out?"

"Brilliant. After everyone stopped trying to kill me or sack me. The rest of the year went great. It's really a lot of fun teaching these kids. And I keep learning some really great spells. I'll have to show you some of the better ones sometime. It might actually help you in your work."

"No kidding? I could use some help."

"Job okay?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding and looking at the empty plates on their table. "It's a bit frustrating sometimes when you can't figure out what spells were used and how to reverse them. And we almost never catch the bloke who spelled them in the first place. Bloody vandals."

"But you like it?"

"Oh yeah! Wasn't sure about it at first. But it's been two years now and I don't think anyone thinks of me as Arthur Weasley's nob-headed son anymore."

"They didn't."

"He's worked here a long time and knows all sorts of stuff. I've got some catching up to do, but I must say, that extra help from the D.A. helped as well as the search for all the Horcruxes. Certainly learned my share of extra magic there."

Harry lowered his eyes. He never liked to think about those days. "Yeah, I can see how that helped."

"So. Anything else you came to talk about?"

Ron's eyes looked a bit anxious. It seemed he well knew why Harry was here. Harry hoped Hermione had smoothed the way. He crumbled his serviette in his fingers. "Er…yeah, actually. There's something I'd like to ask you." He looked into Ron's eyes. He didn't know why he felt so nervous. He worried a bit about being rejected. Of course after Draco's initial rejection and subsequent affirmation, could anything really worry him as much? He scooted his chair closer to the table and dropped his voice. "I've asked Draco to marry me." Ron's eyes rounded. Maybe Hermione had forgotten to smooth the way.

"WHAT?" Ron stage whispered.

Harry got quieter unconsciously in hopes of keeping Ron from shouting. "D-didn't Hermione tell you?"

"No!" Ron sat back and glared at the table. He looked a little like he wanted to jump up from his chair.

Harry leaned even closer. "Look, Ron, we've practically been living together this whole time. I just wanted to make a more permanent arrangement. We love each other."

Ron winced at that. "I know," he said as if saying "could you please wipe this slime off my coat?"

Harry sat back and sighed. "Ron…"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just that he's Malfoy, you know? I've had a lot more years of hating him than of liking him and sometimes he still acts like a git."

"Well I'll give you that. But still. He's agreed, and we are going to be married. We'd like to do it at Hogwarts in August. And I'd like you to be my best man. Will you?"

Ron's expression softened. He rocked his head from side to side. "Oh Harry. 'Course I will. You're my best mate. I want to see you happy. I just can't believe it's the ferret that will do it."

"Stop calling him that," he said half-heartedly. Didn't Harry himself think of Draco that way sometimes? "He hasn't called Hermione a Mudblood within my hearing, you know, and he doesn't talk disparagingly of you, either."

"Probably never mentions me at all."

"Well no, actually."

Ron looked at Harry a moment and then burst out laughing. He wiped his eyes with his fingers and shook his head. "I never expected in all my life to be having this conversation."

Harry laughed too. "You know, it is sort of funny. I mean Draco and I… I never expected it to happen between us. Gave up on it long ago."

"But seriously, Harry." He stopped laughing and leaned in again. "I'm really honoured you'd ask me. I'd have been put out if you didn't, really. And I do want you to be happy. 'Bout time you were. You deserve it."

"I think so, too."

Ron shook his head, downed the last of his pint, and sat back. "So…does that mean Malfoy's the bride?" He burst into laughter again and Harry joined him.

"For God sake," said Harry between giggles, "don't ever let Draco hear you say that!"

* * *

Draco hovered anxiously in the Ministry lobby. The receptionist kept sending him odd looks as he worked, trying not to stare. Finally, a little mousy witch hurried toward him, looking him up and down. "Are you Mr. Malfoy?" she said in a squeaky voice. He wasn't entirely certain she wasn't a reverse Animagus: a mouse transfigured into a witch.

"Yes."

"Will you come with me, please?"

He followed the short witch down one twisting corridor after another. His mind lit again on rats and mazes. It was a good thing she was there because he never would have found his way. He knew he'd need someone to help him get back out.

Up another set of stairs and then down another and they were finally standing before a plain wooden door emblazoned with the words "Research".

"Here we are," said the small witch. "It's the first office on your right. Good day, sir." She turned on her heel and left him there. He was glad she left. He wanted to make the rest of this trip alone.

He opened the door which led to another long corridor lined with identical doors. Fortunately, he only had to go to the first door on the right. He knocked. A sing song, "Come in!" called out to him and he entered.

Hermione looked up from the mounds of books. She looked perfectly content. After all, this was her element. She smiled when she spied Draco and stood up. He was afraid she would hug him like she did when he left her house the last time but she only stood where she was and opened her hand toward a chair. "I'm so glad to see you. Won't you sit down? Tea?"

"Don't go to the trouble," he said and sat.

"It's no trouble." She took out her wand from her sleeve and waved it. "Madefacere!" A tea tray complete with all necessary tea things materialized, hovered near the only uncluttered surface on a sideboard, and slowly landed. She flicked the wand again and the pot poured for each of them. "Sugar? Milk?"

"Both." The tea things did their job and soon a cup moved toward Draco and he took it out of mid air.

"Well now," she said, settling down and absently stirring her cup. "Everything all right now with you and Harry?"

Draco reddened. He felt like a fool for what he did and the fact that Hermione had had to save the day. But he supposed Gryffindors were used to saving the day. "Yes. Everything is fine. The…the wedding is going on as planned."

"That's great news."

"Yes." He put down the tea cup without tasting it and got to his feet. He felt too tense to sit.

"Is there…anything I can help you with, Draco?"

"Yes. Yes there is. Harry is asking Ron to be his best man."

Hermione made a little squeaking sound. "Oh! I knew I was forgetting something!"

"What's that?"

"Oh nothing." She sat back and made an apologetic smile. "Nothing really. Go on."

Draco took a deep breath. This was really embarrassing. "The thing of it is, he's got a best friend. Someone to stand up for him. And I've been racking my brain trying to think of someone-"

"Oh. And you want me to help you find someone."

"Well-"

"You know, one of the teachers would surely be happy to do it. I'm certain Hagrid would, although he cries terribly at weddings."

"But it's-"

"Perhaps Professor Flitwick. I know he'd love to. He adores Harry."

"That's not-"

"Or even Remus Lupin! He'd be great! He's always been very fair-"

"Hermione! Will you shut up a moment!"

Hermione drew up short and stared at him. Her stirring hand froze in mid-stir.

"Let me say this, all right! I just…it's only that…" He sighed. "Look, I don't have mates like Harry does. Crabbe and Goyle weren't my mates. They were my goons. Bodyguards. Not a brain cell to rub between them. And Zabini, well. I've already met up with him again and it wasn't pleasant. There's no one from Slytherin I could consider a friend and they don't want to have anything to do with a blood traitor anyway. And I don't really feel close to any of the teachers. They're too old and too creaky and…too…well, you get the idea. The only people I feel at all remotely close to is…well, you and Ron. Ron will no doubt be Harry's best man and so I thought-maybe it's a stupid idea, but I thought-" His heart was beating madly. He glanced at the door. It was right there. All he had to do was sprint for it and he'd be gone down the corridor.

He took another breath. "I thought that maybe…you'd, you know, maybe you'd do it. For me. Be my Matron of Honour or something. If you don't want to, I'll understand. That's all right. In fact, just forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea." He whirled toward the door, but his leg got entangled with the chair.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione stand and move around her desk. She was going to laugh at him. He wanted to get out before she did. Why did he think this was a good idea? What had he been thinking?

Her hand grabbed his arm and stopped him and reluctantly he turned his head to face her. She wasn't laughing, didn't even look as if she was anywhere near laughing. Her face was stonily serious. "Does Harry know you're here?"

"Are you kidding? And have him laugh at me too?"

"I'm not laughing. In fact, I am very touched you would ask me. Very flattered, indeed."

"But 'no thanks'. Okay. I get the point. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone, especially your husband."

"Draco! I'd be very proud to stand up for you."

Draco stopped and merely listened to his own breathing. Did he hear her correctly? Had she accepted? He faced her. "Did you just say 'yes'?" She smiled, but it wasn't an amused or a mocking smile. It was one that held genuine affection. For him? What was it about Gryffindors? "You really will? You don't think it's stupid?"

"Not at all. I'm so glad you think of Ron and me as friends. Gosh. It's like a whole era is passing, isn't it. We're finally not enemies anymore. I never quite believed it, have you?"

Draco considered her. This was the woman whom he taunted mercilessly, called her a filthy Mudblood to her face-the foulest thing a wizard could call another-taunted her about her hair, her teeth, her parentage-anything he could think of. And she was willing to forget it all for the love of her friend. Even become Draco's friend. If he lived a million years, he'd never understand it. "I know what you mean. We used to hate each other so much. I can't even remember feeling that way now."

"Even though I am a Mudblood."

He closed his eyes. "I'm really sorry about that, Hermione. If I could take it back-"

"It's over. That time belonged to a bunch of children. I think you'd agree that we haven't been children for quite some time."

"No. We haven't. I often think we were all a bit cheated out of our full childhoods."

"I agree." They contemplated one other quietly for a time.

Draco was the first to break the silence. He smirked the way he used to do. "It's certainly going to be an interesting wedding."

Hermione's serious exterior finally broke and she laughed a merry, tinkling sound. "It can't be anything but!"

"Harry thinks it will be the social event of the year."

"I thought he wanted a small wedding."

"He did. But then he remembered the hundreds of people who will feel left out if he didn't invite them. I, on the other hand, will be inviting a grand total of ten people, only half of which I expect to come."

"Ten? Really?"

"Didn't think I could find that many, eh?"

"Uh…no!"

It had only been a joke, but Hermione was serious. Draco frowned. "I contacted Pansy Parkinson who has been following our antics in the papers. She was a bit surprised to hear from me and not altogether happy about it, I gathered. But in the end she agreed to come and to talk to a few Slytherins whom she thought would blend in. And I have some cousins who didn't sound altogether uninterested. Even though Harry's a Halfblood he is Harry Potter and so they may make an appearance if only to get into the papers."

"And you'd allow that?"

"What? It's a very Slytherin expectation. I have no objections. Besides, they have to bring an expensive gift."

Hermione shook her head and threw up her arms. "Okay. It's your wedding."

Her words began to sink in. A smile spread on his face. "Yes it is, isn't it?" She smiled back. It wasn't a bad smile, for a Muggle-born.

Her smile faded somewhat when she asked, "You'll be good to Harry, won't you?"

Draco looked at her in all seriousness. "I will do my best."

"You are really good for him. I've never seen him happier. But if you ever do anything to hurt him-"

"Trust me, Hermione; I am well aware how dead I would be. The whole world versus Draco Malfoy? Those are odds no self-respecting Slytherin would ever tackle."

He left Hermione feeling much better, glad even. It was strange making friends with Weasleys let alone former Grangers. The world certainly had changed.

He looked around the confusing maze of corridors. Now where was level seven? He had to meet Harry to talk to the Ministry about the provisions to their marriage. He hoped it wasn't going to be something ridiculous. He swore to himself that if it was he'd hex the lot of them.


On to Chapter Seven
"Playing with Fire"

Back to Chapter Five
"The Course of True Love"

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