Title: A Slip of the Tongue

Author: peach12blossoms (LiveJournal); iDontKissAndTell (fanfiction sites)

Fic Word Count: 3700 words

Pairing(s): Draco M./Hermione G.; Harry P./Ginny W.; Charlie W./Pansy P.; Ron W./Lavender B.

Rating: M (R/MT)

Warnings (if any): Implied Sexual Situations, mild swearing, OOC, Fluff

Summary: Draco Malfoy, Hermione gathered, was not as subtle as he would like to be; nor was he as sneaky as he led everyone to believe. But it's okay, because she loves him anyway. Written for DramioneLove's Spring-Summer 2013 Fest on LJ.

Author's Notes: This fic is dedicated to the prompter (captainraychill), the person who hosted the fest on LJ (rzzmg) and to the person who's as awesome as nutella for editing this at the last minute (thesydda). This wouldn't have been written if it weren't for them. I hope you guys enjoy reading :)

Beta Readers: thesydda

Prompt (by captainraychill): When Hermione agreed to be Lavender Brown's bridesmaid, she had no idea the bridesmaids' dresses would be SO HIDEOUS. When Draco sees her in it, does he laugh his arse off and tease her - find her strangely irresistable - or both? Select wedding hijinks could be fun - missing cake, owl ate ring, nervous groom or perhaps sex in aforementioned hideous bridesmaids' dress.

Disclaimer: No profit is being made from the making of this piece of fan fiction and no copyright infringement was intended. This is made purely for my own enjoyment (and others) and anything you recognize from the "Harry Potter" series is not mine and is solely the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

Summer of 2002 (The Burrow)

"You look sexy, love," Draco Malfoy said, right before he expressed his amusement by letting out a loud guffaw. Hermione glared at him.

She knew that no one – probably not even the most beautiful model in the world– could look 'sexy' in the god-awful dress Lavender had picked out for her bridesmaids. With its jewel neckline and tight bodice covered in bright-yellow feathers that almost looked like fur and the larger-than-life, neon pink tutu skirt attached to it, she looked like a cross between a duckling and a ballerina. Not a very flattering combination, if you asked her. She told Draco so.

The man chuckled again as he pushed off from the doorframe that he had been leaning on and approached her. "If that is so, then I think you're the most beautiful duckling-ballerina hybrid I have ever laid eyes on," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her close to his body as best as he could with the thick skirt in the way and tenderly kissed her forehead... then her lips.

"You can't compliment my appearance, then callously laugh at how ridiculous I really look, and compliment me again after that, Draco. So you might as well be honest and tell me what I already know: that I look horrible. I'm not going to get mad and withhold sex if you do, I promise."

"You never withhold sex anyway, love. Even when you say you will," he pointed out, his hand moving up to push back a lock of her hair.

She smiled slightly, her arms lifting up to his lower back. "I can try," she said.

"But I do think I prefer it when you do. Have I ever told you how much it turns me on when you pretend to play hard to get?" He tried to kiss her again.

"No, stop," she said as she moved her head to the side so Draco's lips landed on her cheek instead. "Tell me what you really think of this dress, Draco." Charming his way around telling the truth has never been something Hermione let Draco get away with and she was positive that he knew that, though that never stopped him from trying.

Draco released a soft, exasperated groan and pulled away, holding her at arm's length and surveying the dress between them. "I have no idea what to think," he said. His grey eyes met hers and he offered her a smile. "If I think about the dress' top and bottom separately, then yes, from the waist down, you look like a ballerina with long beautiful legs. Not necessarily a bad thing. However, from the waist up, you look like a kind of bird. A Silkie, I believe it's called."

Hermione frowned. "I don't think I've ever heard of a bird called a Silkie before. What type is it?"

"Poultry," came his casual response.

Hermione stared at him disbelievingly. "Poultry?"

"Yes, it's a type of chicken that has feathers that look like fur. Much like the material on this dress," he said as he ran a hand up her torso, over her breast where it lingered for a bit, and onto her shoulder under the guise of 'feeling' the material.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You compare me to a chicken, then you feel me up? Honestly, who taught you manners?"

"Hey, you compared yourself to a duck. I fail to see the difference."

"How do you even know what a Silkie is? Don't tell me, you took lessons on barnyard animals at some stage in your 'Snooty Pureblood' training?"

Draco released a scoff and gathered her in his arms once more. "Yes, I did actually, along with lessons on how to make my significant other shut up and how to properly discipline her for mocking me."

He had just started leaning in again for a kiss when there was a loud knock on the bedroom door. Ginny's voice called from the other side, "Hermione! It's your favourite redhead. Open up."

Draco groaned and rested his forehead against hers. "Cock-blocked by a Weasley, once again. I swear this family has made it their personal mission to interrupt us every fucking time..." he trailed off as he strode to the door to open it for Ginny.

Said redhead stomped right past him, wearing an exact replica of Hermione's dress and a fierce look on her face. "This dress," she said brusquely, glaring at Hermione as if she was the one who possessed Lavender to pick the dresses. "I fucking hate it."

Hermione grinned mischievously. "Oh Gin, you look beau–"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ginny warned as she stomped further into the room and straight for the mirror. "Straight off the runway, my ass. Harry won't want to be seen with me when he sees me in this. I knew we should have been there when she and Luna picked out our dresses. I love Luna with all my heart, but she's hardly the best person to ask for fashion advice and I have a feeling that is what happened here." She tsked and stepped away from the mirror. "I guess it's no use crying over spilled milk now. We have to go, Hermione. The gnomes have infiltrated the venue. Apparently, my brothers were particularly harsh with them yesterday so they're back with a vengeance."

Hermione stared at her redheaded friend. "Please tell me you're kidding and that everything downstairs is fine and we won't have to show the world how ridiculous we look like in our dresses just yet."

"Believe me, I don't want to go down there any more than you, but everyone else is busy doing their own little tasks for this wedding and if we don't help get rid of the gnomes and ward the backyard against them now, this wedding will not start on time. You never know though, de-gnoming might just give us an excuse to mysteriously ruin our dresses." She winked. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

Hermione hung her head once Ginny had exited the room and mentally prepared herself for the task that would inevitably expose the brightly-coloured monstrosity to the people already downstairs.

"Hey, cheer up and look on the bright side," Draco said as he rubbed her shoulders. "You can design a much uglier dress for Lavender to wear as a bridesmaid when the two of us get married."

Her eyes wide and breath held, Hermione looked up at Draco in surprise. "When the two of us what?" Her boyfriend's grey eyes widened in alarm and somehow, she knew that what he had said was an accident... a mere slip of the tongue. And for the life of her, Hermione could not decide if the knowledge relieved or panicked her.

"Nothing," he said frantically, before he abruptly disapparated, leaving Hermione with a plethora of conflicting emotions.

"Ginny! Behind you!"

"STUPEFY!"

"Duck!"

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

"Tie them up!"

"Incarcerous!"

"Lock some of them in the shed!"

"Mobilicorpus!"

"Coloportus!"

"Take that, gnomes!"

"Ginny! Harry! Bloody Hell! They're gnomes, not Death Eaters! Show some mercy!" Hermione shouted as she burst through the backdoor of the house upon hearing the shouts. She came to a stop beside Luna, who was watching the spectacle with an amused look on her carefully made-up face.

"They've been like this for five minutes now," Luna explained. "I don't think they're accustomed to the quiet life just yet."

"No kidding. Look at them both. The gnomes are throwing handfuls of wedding cake and they're acting like it's Unforgivable Curses directed at them. Why don't they just– Oh, for Merlin's sake. IMMOBULUS!" With one simple spell, all the gnomes running around in the yard froze on their tracks. Hermione approached the winded couple and cleared her throat to get their attentions. "So did you two have fun playing Satan? You could have just killed them, you know; it would have been more humane compared to what you two did to them."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, they're not like your house elves. You saw how they violently hurled the–"

"What, the cake? Last I checked, Harry Potter, no one has ever died from cake exposure. So please just go back into the house and clean yourself up while Ginny and I move the gnomes closer to the woods. And you might want to tell Molly about the cake crisis while you're in there. We need to fix it, pronto."

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, Mistress. Anything you want, Mistress." He chuckled when her fist missed his arm and swiftly ran for the house.

"Any chance you could throw a chunk of cake my way?" Ginny asked, looking hopefully at Hermione.

Hermione cracked a smile. "You had your chance and you blew it," she said, glancing down at Ginny's still-immaculate dress. "Besides, if Pansy, Luna and I go down, you're going down with us. Now help me move the gnomes out of the shed and closer to their territory." Hermione waved her wand to levitate the creatures closest to her.

"Curse my ducking reflexes,"Ginny grumbled before she followed suit. "Speaking of Pansy, where is she? I haven't seen her since she locked herself up in Charlie's old bedroom."

"Why did she do that?"

"I think Charlie was in there too. Newlyweds, you know? I'm trying not to be too disgusted."

"Say, Ginny," Hermione started as she carefully guided the gnomes a safe distance from the tent. "Do you happen to know where Draco is?"

"No," she replied.

"That git," Hermione grumbled.

Ginny sent her a look of confusion. "Wasn't he just with you in Bill's old room?"

"Yes... No... Well, he left without a word. We were talking about something... weird and he just disapparated."

"Well, what were you two talking about? Maybe you said something that upset him." Hermione scoffed. "Let me finish...or he said something stupid and he was scared that you would hex him if he didn't clear out immediately."

Hermione hesitated. "Um, not quite." She sighed and spilled all. "He said something about the two of us getting married. We were both utterly surprised that he did, so he panicked and disapparated." Ginny's eyes widened almost comically at Hermione's admission. Her spell on the levitated gnomes faltered and each potato-like creature fell to the ground in a heap. "Ginevra! Be careful with them!" Hermione exclaimed, and was ignored.

"I will disregard the fact that you called me Ginevra and ask: he mentioned getting married?!"

"I know, I was shocked, too."

"He does know that you haven't even celebrated your seventh month anniversary yet, right?"

Ginny was right, of course. Hermione and Draco had only been an official couple for six and a half months so surely it was a bit too soon to be thinking about marriage. She loved him and that was for sure. So much so that she would admit to frequently daydreaming about marrying him; but being a woman of sensible mind, Hermione didn't let herself get that far ahead of herself and set expectations for events that might not even happen anytime soon – or, heaven forbid, ever. But now that he had said what he did... "Maybe–"

"Hermione, do you know you haven't even celebrated your seventh month anniversary, yet?" Ginny interrupted.

"Of course I do–"

"Okay, that's all I ask," she said as she rounded up the last of the gnomes. "As long as you know that, then you can make all the decisions you need to."

"What decisions? He hasn't asked me anything and we're jumping to conclusions. For all we know, the words just slipped out of his mouth because of all this wedding business."

Ginny gave her a strange look. "If we're not jumping to conclusions, then why are we having this conversation?"

There was a pause as Hermione considered this. "Good point. I'm erasing it from my mind."

"Okay, but you'll let me know what happens?"

"You can count on it, Ginevra. Now, let's ward the tent against gnomes, add some ventilation in there because it's only going to get hotter and let's get that cake fixed."

"Stop calling me Ginevra!"

Hermione didn't see Draco again until after the Ministry Representative announced Mr. & Mrs. Ronald Weasley for the first time and it was Hermione's turn to walk back down the aisle with the groomsman, Dean. She spied him standing beside Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott, clapping weakly along with the rest of the guests. She narrowed her eyes in displeasure when he offered her a hopeful smile. She might have let the 'marriage' remark go, but it was completely wrong of him to disapparate like he did, instead of staying to talk to her about it. It was immature behaviour and she planned to make it known to him that, never again, would she be treated like that.

She searched for him as soon as her bridesmaid duties were through to do just that, but as fate – or Draco – would have it, the man was nowhere to be found. Thoroughly irritated with the 'bloody, albino ferret', as she often referred to him when he did something particularly insufferable, she stomped out of the tent for a breath of fresh air. She had seen enough movies and read enough books to know that the male lead would appear, seemingly and conveniently, out of nowhere, when the female lead was alone and, in Hermione's case, looking for a breath of fresh air.

And appear he did. She recognized the sound of his footsteps before she heard his honey-like voice. "Looking for me, beautiful?" he asked, cleverly keeping a safe yet still intimate distance between their bodies.

Her back still to him, Hermione let out a breath and crossed her arms. She looked up at the clear, blue summer sky. "We've been over this, Draco. I look horrible and I look like poultry."

"No, you look beautiful, Hermione. You always do," he insisted, taking a step closer to her.

"How is that even possible with a dress like this?"

"Are you kidding? You make it work in just about anything you wear, love. You look way better than Ginny, Pansy and Luna do in it, that's for sure." Hermione rolled her eyes at his attempts at buttering her up and kept quiet. He gently took hold of her right arm and spun her so that she was facing him. "Hey, I know you're mad at me. Please let me explain."

"Why do you think I'm still standing here?"

"I'm sorry Hermione. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to say what I did. At least not in that manner. If you want to wait a couple more years before we get married, I swear, I will wait patiently for you."

Confused, Hermione asked, "What?"

"Unless, you just don't want to marry me at all then that... well, that would majorly suck. But make no mistake, Hermione Granger, should you choose to decline my proposal, know that it will not be the last you'll hear from me. I will try and try until you –"

"Draco, stop rambling," Hermione ordered, laying a hand against his cheek. "Why the hell are you apologising for saying what you did?"

Draco stared at her in confusion. "Isn't that why you're mad?"

"What? No! I was mad because you just disappeared, not because you mentioned 'marriage'! It was incredibly immature for you to express your panic by running away. We are adults, and we will deal with misunderstandings like them: we talk. We do not run away, do you hear me, Draco Malfoy? And in the future, if you ever have the urge to run away from our problems, keep in mind that you are just giving me more time to stew and make up more reasons why I'm mad at you."

"I'm hearing you loud and clear, love. And I'm sorry, it will never happen again. Just clarify one thing for me: You're not mad because I mentioned marriage? Not at all?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, I was merely surprised that you did, that's all."

Draco sighed in relief. "Oh good, so I can do this." He took her into his arms and, without warning, apparated them away to what she could recognise as his ancestral mansion's beautiful garden. "And then this." He knelt down on one knee. "Hermione Granger –" he started.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Draco, what are you doing?" she interrupted, butterflies raising havoc in her mid-section.

"I am simply fixing my shoelaces, my love" he explained, as he indeed proceeded t0 fix his shoelaces. Hermione couldn't say that she wasn't a tiny bit disappointed. "So that," he continued as he started to reach for something in his pocket, "I don't trip on them when I spin you around after you respond to my question of 'Will you marry me?'" And then Draco presented her with the most beautiful emerald and diamond engagement ring. "I was going to propose to you later this week but when I unthinkingly mentioned getting married earlier, I thought the gig was up and I panicked. That's why I thoughtlessly disapparated; I went to fetch the ring. Merlin, I messed this up, didn't I? If you want, we can just forget this ever happened and I can propose on the day that I originally planned."

Hermione's heart almost exploded with all the happiness she was experiencing at that moment and all she could do to express her emotions was to release a short laugh before she pulled him up, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. He responded enthusiastically and she hoped that he could feel all the love and happiness that she felt. "Yes, I'll marry you," she said as they came up for air.

His answering smile was blinding. He took her hand and slipped the ring into place and as promised, spun her round.

Hermione teasingly grinned at her new fiancé, her mind replaying how he, uncharacteristically, botched up his own plans. "I guess this means that you're not really the sneaky, little fe – I mean, thing – everyone thought you were."

"You were going to say ferret, weren't you?" Draco accused lightly.

Busted. "I love you so much, Draco!" she exclaimed to divert his attention before reclaiming his lips.

"And I love you. But if you think you're going to get away with murder every time you tell me you love me then –"

Hermione kissed him again. "No I intend to do this –" She pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and undid his tie. "–as well." She gave him a lascivious smile, her fingers already working on his button-down shirt.

Draco smirked as he bent down to press open-mouthed kisses on her neck. "I don't think my mother would appreciate it if she finds out that we did unmentionable things in her beloved flower garden," he murmured. He captured her mouth in another kiss before he shifted his attention back to a spot on her neck that he knew made her go crazy with want.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Hermione breathed as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders to join the suit jacket on the lawn. "Now," she started as she briefly ran a finger over his pebbled nipple, revelling in his soft groan of approval, and whispered softly in his ear, "Take this goddamned dress off of me."

Summer of 2003 (Capri Palace Hotel, Italy)

"I love how Hermione came up with this idea for our dresses," Ginny said to the room at large as she surveyed the olive green and gold, tulip-style bridesmaid dress in the mirror. "It's quite creative."

Pansy, who was applying a second coat of mascara on her thick lashes, paused with her mascara wand held aloft. "Didn't she get this idea from a Muggle movie?" she asked.

"Yes but still, it's creative and it's almost... symbolic, in a way."

"Of course, it is," Luna said as she entered the room, her blue, glittery, baby-doll dress shimmering in the late Italian sun that was streaming in through the window. "Us wearing the dresses that we made her wear for our weddings is the perfect way to show that Hermione was there helping us through the biggest moments of our lives and today is the day we return the favour."

"Exactly! Plus, Hermione's the last to get married. Today could count as our official send-off to our single lives."

"I guess we can," Pansy mused as she straightened her peach, asymmetrical dress, then she turned towards her friends, her hand resting on her small baby bump. "Is it obvious that I'm pregnant in this dress? We haven't told anyone outside the family about the baby yet and I don't want to take the attention away from the bride."

Ginny moved to Pansy's left side and studied the woman's mid-riff. "No, not really. The bottom half of the dress is sheer and flowy, it should hide the bump pretty well."

"Where's Lavender?" Luna asked suddenly, looking around at the spacious hotel room reserved for the bridesmaids.

Ginny and Pansy exchanged a confused look. Both shrugged. "She was here before you came in," said Pansy. "Maybe she's in the bathroom?" All three women turned their attention to the closed bathroom door. "Lav? Are you in there?" Pansy called, approaching the door and knocking lightly.

There was shuffle of feet inside. "Yeah, I am," Lavender said dejectedly.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked.

"No."

"Are you sick? I have a potion in my bag I can give you," said Luna.

"No, thank you."

"Come out and tell us what's wrong then."

"No," came Lavender's sad reply. "This dress is horrible."

Ginny and Pansy exchanged a look of understanding and simultaneously replied, "We know."

"I'm sorry for making you guys wear this."

"It's okay, love," Pansy said. "You can burn it afterwards like we did, if that will make you feel any better."

Luna gave them a strange look. "What are you talking about? I quite liked that dress. Don't burn it!"

"Only you, Luna," Ginny said with a shake of her head.

Final A/N: Please let me know what you think :) Thank you for reading!