Author's Note: Well, here it is, the very last chapter. I think. I'm all out of comedy. So, I love this chapter and I hope you all like it. I'm going to miss little Mercius. He rocks. So, here it is, and I hope you all enjoy the ending as much as you seeemd to have liked the rest of the story. Sincerely yours, PyroSymptomsUnleashed.

Disclaimer: Not mine unless it sucks. Then it's mine. All else belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Boxers

Part Eight: The End

Previously…

Colin let out a burst of laughter. "Ha! Ginny's the most stubbornly single bachelor-type there ever was. If she ever gets married I'll eat a flobberworm..."

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"I pronounce you wizard and witch. You may- wait for it – now you may kiss the witch."

Draco leaned in to kiss his wife before she could finish the rude phrase stealing between her lips. Ginny grinned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard.

Eyebrows arching in surprise and delight, Draco pulled her closer. He couldn't believe it; he'd married her. She'd actually let him marry her. She was insane. Though it had taken him twenty-three months to get her to agree to marriage, he'd done it. They were married. The thought put a swell of warmth through his body. Though that could have been because of the tongue down his throat.

Though he didn't know where he was in the wedding congregation, Draco could feel Ronald Weasley's face burning a hot red watching his sister suck face with Draco Malfoy.

Not that it mattered because now she was Ginny Malfoy.

Pulling away before things got out of hand (in front of a priest no less), Draco grinned, taking his wife by the hand and leading her down from the alter. He grinned, spotting Beacon-Face Weasley smouldering away next to Hermione Granger. Harry Potter had not been invited. Draco had thought it would please his fiancée to invite her friends, even if he wanted to sic Mercius on them, and sent The-Boy-Who-Ruined-Everything a wedding invite, which never reached him, due to the combined efforts of Mercius and Ginny, who conspired to lose it. Conveniently. Down the cat's throat. Draco knew this because the cat vomited it up in his shoes one morning.

Ginny took her bouquet of flowers and hurled them as viciously as possible at Narcissa the Cow, who had somehow been invited. The roses smacked her in the face with satisfying accuracy. Draco turned and pressed a kiss to his wife's temple. "You're incredible," he whispered, before turning back to the wedding scene.

Molly Weasley was weeping buckets. Arthur Weasley was dressed in garishly orange overalls, clapping enthusiastically. With little effort, Fred and George Weasley had gotten Pansy Parkinson drunk and on the dance floor. Blaise had Mercius on his shoulders, chasing after Colin. And for some reason Mercius had a flobberworm in his hand. Who knew why he was shouting 'you promised!' at Colin.

Weirdo.

"Oh, I hate you," Draco said suddenly, leading Ginny over to a huge cake. "Oh really? That's nice dear. Cake?" she asked, slicing some. "Yes, please," he said, stooping down so his vertically-challenged new wife could smash cake into his face properly. "Thank you," he commented, taking her hand and 'cleaning' her fingers. With his mouth.

When Ginny finally pulled her hand away, her face was a good deal more flushed than it had been before. "Enough of that, or I'll drag you off to the nearest broom closet, to hell with our honeymoon!" she breathed.

Draco smirked. "Where did you think we were having our honeymoon?" he asked, covering her mouth with his. Ginny grinned, pulling away as the sound of Colin puking flobberworm innards all over Narcissa the Cow.

"I know a great little rose garden out back," Ginny said suggestively, attempting to get away from the party. Draco's face broke into a grin. "Lead the way," he said, slipping his hand down Ginny's back.

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Mercius was not a happy camper.

Standing in front of him had congregated a large body of women of varying ages and similarly unstable bladders, blinking imperiously around in hopes that a loo would appear if they waited long enough.

One rather fidgety old crone hobbled over to Mercius.

"Well, hello there, little ring bearer, I was wondering-"

"My name, madam, is Mercius Draconus Malfoy," he said, tone smacking of arrogance and intolerance. He had to be a Malfoy. The old bat blinked in surprise, hopping back a bit, but her squirming innards pressed her on.

"If you tell Auntie where the bathroom is, I'll give you a nice candy," she crowed, pulling something in a shiny wrapper from her handbag and waving it in a taunting manner in front of Mercius' face. It smelled vaguely of his cat's backside.

Mercius stared at the sow with an 'are you shitting me?' look before a movement outside the window across the hall from him caught his eye. A movement from the supposedly deserted rose garden. A movement like a large white wedding gown being thrown a good distance in an agitated hurry.

An evil smirk crossed Mercius' face.

He took the candy.

And directed the women out into the rose garden, where he suspected they would find more than just the loo.

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Blaise and Colin were rocking back and forth, swaying to the music, trying not to step on Pansy Parkinson, who had suddenly passed out mid-conga. "Do you think they'll make it together?" Blaise asked, looking for the bride and groom amongst the other dancers. "Well, it doesn't seem likely, does it?" Colin said. Blaise trod on his feet. "Then again, I said Ginny would never get married, so what's my opinion worth?"

"A flobberworm," Blaise answered.

Colin frowned, rolling his tongue around in his mouth. "I'm never going to get that taste out of my mouth," he groaned. Blaise grinned, then stared off over Colin's shoulder in speculation.

"We made it, didn't we, Colin?" he asked, resting his head against the shorter man's.

Colin smiled softly. "That we did," he answered, turning his face to Blaise's.

A small, deliberate cough stopped them mid-snog.

They glanced down to where Mercius was grinning up at them, his face the most adorable mask of complete evil mischievousness. "Oh, what have you done now?" Colin asked as Blaise looked for fires, Ministry officials, or large predatory animals.

Mercius grinned, offering out his hand.

"Nothing. Candy?"

Blaise sniffed cautiously at the shiny fushia wrapper in the small boy's hand.

"Smells like cat poo," he said distractedly, marking out where the emergency exits were.

A cacophony of shrill outbursts started and built, growing louder and louder until the doors to the rose garden burst open. In ran a semi-naked red-head, laughing gleefully as she was followed by her equally-nearly-nude husband, who was looking more than a little frazzled as he was chased by a crowd of vicious cronies ready to piss themselves.

Blaise stifled a laugh as the entire wedding party stilled and gaped openly in shock at Ginny's bouncing chest (thankfully the girl still had her bra on), her damned boxers that said 'Shag Me', Draco's half-bare bum where some cow had pulled at his pants, to his boxers, which read 'Fuck Yes'.

An astonished congregation watched as Draco reached Ginny, grabbing her arm and whirling her around, still laughing, and barely managed to Disapparate before being torn to pieces by the claws of the harpies on their backs.

Colin turned to Mercius. "Why do I have the feeling you had something to do with that?" he asked as the crowd settled into a comfortable murmur.

Blaise interrupted. "Scratch that. Why do I have the feeling you're not going to be a normal child?"

Mercius cracked an eerie grin that made Colin hide behind his taller Slytherin counterpart. "I guess that means I'm not invited to your wedding?" the boy asked too innocently. "Like hell you're not!" Colin piped up over Blaise's shoulder.

Blaise grinned, ruffling the boy's hair, and pissing him off quite badly.

"But we'll help you make your father and Ginny's lives a living hell," Blaise promised.

Mercius shook his head, letting his gaze drift to where Draco and Ginny had disappeared.

"My parents," he corrected, showing off his first real smile. "You can help me make my parents' lives a living hell."

"Agreed."

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