Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

AN: This story was inspired by an Agatha Christie mystery. Kudos to the Queen of Mysteries, she really was a genius.

I developed the storyline a couple of years ago, together with shygui, who also edited the first couple of chapters. A big THANK YOU to my partner in crime.

English isn't my first language, so be gentle with me on the not yet beta-ed chapters. I've finished the prologue and the first six chapters, so I'll be able to provide you with some entertainment during these difficult weeks of lockdowns and quaratines. I've plotted out the whole story and have a list of scenes, so it is very likely you'll get regular updates and a finished story.

He stood in front of the officiator, under an arch of white roses. His hand was cold and clammy as he took the hand of the black haired witch who stood beside him. The frilly, white dress she wore didn't suit her, and as always she had put on too much makeup to distract from her plain features. The simpering smile hadn't left her face since she walked down the aisle on the arm of her father. Merlin, how he hated her pug face!

She didn't love him any more than he loved her. They only stood here because their families had decided their union was necessary to preserve the power of their houses. Only he knew how badly his house needed the money she would bring into this union. It was a well kept secret; the war that had just ended a few months ago had been disastrous for his family. His father had backed the wrong horse. The old bastard was dead, killed in the last battle, and he had to pay the price.

His eyes wandered to the bridesmaids beside his bride. She had chosen her roommates, both a stark contrast to his bride.

The girl next to her had gleaming auburn curls and merry brown eyes that smiled into the world with the expression of an innocent child, although she was anything but that. Her vivacity made up for what she lacked in classical beauty. The plain, sleek bridesmaid dress in traditional Slytherin green left nothing of her perfect figure to the imagination. She was delectable, and always willing to help him with his needs. She met his cool gaze with a teasing one, and let her tongue flick over her full, red lips. The invitation was unmistakable. Could he dare do act on it in a quiet moment after the Bonding Ceremony? No, not on his wedding day, the odds to get caught by one of the many gossiping guests were too big.

His eyes came to rest on the blonde. Her deep blue eyes reciprocated his gaze with cold indifference; impossible to tell her feelings about this wedding. That was so special about her: she was a lady, she never let her feelings get the better of her in public. That had attracted him to her in the first place. In all their years as housemates he had not once seen her losing her composure. And yet he was sure there was a volcano lurking under the cool, calm surface, a volcano he had dreamt to discover during all these lonely nights in his dorm he spent longing for her while he pleasured himself.

His eyes were still on her when the silvery mist of the Bonding Spell obscured his view. She looked like a queen in the plain dress. While it made her roommate look like a tart, it emphasised the elegance of her delicate figure. He wouldn't give up on her; he couldn't let go of her, every fibre in his body screamed for her.

'You may now kiss the bride.' The voice of the officiator seemed to come from far away.

His strict upbringing had made it second nature for him to respond to social demands without even having to think about them. The tender smile that was expected in this situation appeared on his face as if he had pressed a button. He bent his head down, until his lips met the lips of his new wife, and let his hand slid around her waist.

She also played her part on cue and threw her arms around his neck. He silently counted the seconds until he could end that kiss, hoping that he wouldn't get nauseous, while he evoked the image of a young woman with blonde hair and eyes like sapphires before his inner eye.