ONCE IN A LIFETIME

'Are you sure it won't be too much?' Hermione asked, casting a baleful look at the stack of files she'd just levitated over onto Ginny's desk.

'For the last time,' Ginny said and rolled her eyes. 'No, it won't be too much, yes, I've perfectly understood your indexing system. This is your wedding, Hermione, it's a bit more important than work!'

'Maybe I ought to tell Lucius that I don't want to go on that honeymoon after all. The Wizengamot will be back in session four days before I come back, and it's just unfair-'

'Hermione!' Ginny interrupted her, already exasperated but still laughing. 'You've been on holiday before, I've been on holiday before, and there never was a problem taking over each other's work. Luna and Neville are here, too, they'll help me if it really gets too much.'

'I just feel as if I'm letting you down...'

'Nonsense. You have a wedding to prepare.'

'So have you.'

'Yes, but mine is going to be in December, and I promise you I'll take time off before and after too. Does that make you feel better?'

'Slightly.' Hermione sighed and sank into her chair. 'I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable about having this big wedding, you know.'

'I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to talk to about that. Why don't you tell Lucius? It's a bit late though, what with the invitations already sent out.'

'I tried.' Hermione gave her friend a lopsided smile. 'It was like taking away a little boy's favourite toy. I just couldn't insist.'

'You two.' Ginny shook her head. 'You're wrapped around each other's little fingers.'

'You have to admit it has its advantages. If I hadn't used all my, erm, feminine wiles to persuade him, do you think he'd have talked to Draco? Or Draco to him, for that matter, if you hadn't literally shagged him into it?'

Ginny was about to answer when a bright red memo zoomed out of the fireplace and towards Hermione, missing Ginny's head by a scant inch. Hermione unfolded the parchment. 'McG wants to see me.' She glanced at her watch. 'It's half past six, and it's Friday. What on earth can she want to talk about?'

'It's also your last day at the office before the wedding. She probably wants to try and talk you out of it,' Ginny replied cheerfully.

'Very funny. I know she isn't happy.'

'But you are. And that's what counts, isn't it? The rest is her problem, really.'

Hermione shot her a dark look. 'Wait until you and Draco go public. I bet you're going to get your very own talking-to then, and you won't like it a single bit more than I do.'

'Probably. But I'll have the advantage of knowing exactly what she's going to say – I don't think it'll be very different from the sermon she's about to give you. Are we still having our girls' night tomorrow?'

'Of course.' Hermione rose from her chair and went towards the door, her stride not as determined as usual. 'I'll be at our, well your place at around seven. Wish me luck.'

'Don't take any shit from her!' Ginny called after her friend, when the door had almost closed behind her.

Hermione stuck her head through the door and grinned. 'I won't. Till tomorrow then!'

McGonagall had accepted the invitation to the engagement party, which had taken place two weeks ago. But she had made it quite clear, by staying no more than thirty minutes, that she was merely fulfilling a social obligation. A cool handshake with Lucius, a distant peck on the cheek for Hermione, a few exchanges of small talk with other important guests, and she had left the premises followed by a devout Percy Weasley and her escort of two Aurors.

This wasn't the best of auspices for her talk with the Minister, Hermione thought. Not that she'd been expecting anything like enthusiasm from her former teacher and mentor, but she'd read disappointment on her face when she'd told her. That, Hermione admitted, smarted a bit. Well, at least Neville and Luna had been happy to hear the news and had congratulated her; her parents had first been very sceptical but then easily charmed by their future son-in-law, and Snape had managed very civil congratulations. Harry and the rest of the Weasley clan had sent back their wedding invitations unopened. Molly Weasley's howler, which had been delivered by the same owl, had been disposed of with a quick Incinerate before it could start spewing insults.

Hermione entered the suite of offices on the second floor. Percy and the two secretaries had already left, and the Auror sitting behind the reception desk gave her an informal salute and told her to proceed directly to McGonagall's office. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Hermione braced herself, knocked and entered.

McGonagall looked up from a parchment she'd been reading and rose. 'Hermione,' she said, crossing the office to meet the young witch and holding out her hand, 'how good of you to come. I wasn't sure whether you were still here.'

'Minister.' Hermione squeezed the proffered hand and smiled. 'I had to brief Ginny – she's taking over for me for the next three weeks, as you know.'

'I know.' McGonagall nodded. 'Please have a seat. Would you like some tea, maybe?'

This was certainly not what Hermione had expected; she'd prepared herself for a stern but brief prep talk on how to stick to one's professional ethics while married to a former Death Eater, whose hunger for power was as notorious as his ruthlessness in obtaining it. 'Tea would be nice, thank you,' she said politely.

She'd evidently not managed to keep the surprise from her voice and facial expression, because McGonagall was giving her a rather amused look. 'Chompy!' she called, and a House Elf, clad in a bright red terrycloth towel, appeared immediately. 'Tea for Miss Granger and me, please. And some sandwiches, I think. I have an appointment at half past six with the German ambassador,' she said, taking the chair opposite Hermione's, 'and the woman never offers her visitors so much as a glass of water.'

'German efficiency, I suppose,' Hermione said.

'German lack of manners, if you ask me,' McGonagall huffed. The tea and sandwiches materialized on the table, and she filled both their cups. 'Sandwich?'

'No, thank you. I'm going to have dinner with Lucius.'

'Of course. You don't mind if I-' She gestured at the plate.

'Of course not.'

McGonagall carefully selected an egg-and-watercress sandwich and took a bite. 'How are the wedding preparations coming along?'

If this was some kind of weird game, she'd better play along, Hermione thought. Bearing in mind though that the Minister's Animagus form was a cat. 'Quite well. The first fitting for my and the bridesmaids' robes will be on Monday.'

'Miss Weasley and Mrs Longbottom will be bridesmaids, I understand?'

Hermione nodded. 'Will you attend the wedding, Minister?'

McGonagall delicately put her teacup back on the saucer. 'This is a purely private meeting, Hermione. You don't have to address me as Minister, you know.'

'Thank you.' To hide her puzzlement, Hermione took a sip of tea. 'Well, will you attend, Minerva?'

'Have I given you any reason to doubt I would?'

'I wasn't quite sure. You don't seem to appreciate my choice of husband very much.'

Taking another sandwich, McGonagall said, 'I am sure you know perfectly well what you're doing.'

Hermione shrugged. 'What can I say? Yes, I certainly do.'

'Do you love him?' For the first time since Hermione had entered the office, McGonagall's eyes fully met hers.

The temptation to tell her to mind her own business was strong. 'I'm not marrying him for his money. Or his looks,' Hermione added.

'I hadn't suspected you were. But...' The Minister dabbed her lips with a napkin and leaned back, to scrutinize her former pupil. 'He's a very powerful wizard.'

Hermione merely smiled and nodded.

'And being married to a witch in your position may hold considerable advantages for him.'

'I suppose that he considers being married to me an advantage in itself.'

'I don't doubt it,' McGonagall said, smiling faintly. 'I would be very... distressed though, if this marriage put you in any kind of, shall we say, conflict of interests.'

'So would I.'

Silence fell. Hermione, who had learned a thing or two from her soon-to-be husband about the value of such silences, was careful not to break it. The seconds trickled by, and still none of the two women said a word.

Hermione almost jumped when McGonagall rose from her chair. 'I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to excuse me – I still have to read five feet of information for my meeting with the ambassador.' She held out her hand for Hermione to shake. 'Oh, by the way, do try to sound out Mr Malfoy on his thoughts about becoming my political advisor. Good evening, Hermione. Give my regards to your fiancé.'

Hermione was still pinching her arm when the lift was taking her down to the entrance hall.

vvvvv

'That cunning old cat!' Lucius said pensively. 'A particularly fine piece of tactics for a Gryffindor, I must say.'

'She managed to get your balls into a rather tight grip. That would be an admirable piece of tactics even for a Slytherin. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. A very wise move.' Hermione sought and found a more comfortable position for her head on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry, really, for having handed her your balls, so to speak.'

'Seeing as you take excellent care of them otherwise, I am inclined to forgive you, my dear.' He pulled her closer and started caressing her thighs and bum. 'If I refuse and she mentions it to anybody, purely by mistake of course' – Hermione snorted – 'speculation will be rife as to why I rejected such a tempting offer, especially as my wife is one of the Minister's Counsels. Everybody's going to assume that I'm pursuing my very own goals...' He sighed. 'And three guesses what the answer is going to be, given my past. So I have to accept.'

'Do you mind terribly?' Hermione put her thigh across Lucius's, to rub it against his cock.

'Not really, at least I don't think so. It is doubtlessly going to be quite interesting, and I won't deny – well, at least not to you – that I've been longing to be back on the political parquet. Though I'll have to find a way to avoid having to attend too many meetings. I've always found meetings to be terribly boring. And I'll draw the line at having to walk behind her, like Percy Weasley. At her side, or the deal is off.'

'I'm sure she'll be amenable to that suggestion. When are you going to contact her?'

'Protocol dictates that she be seated to my left at the wedding feast. I suppose that will give us ample time for a little private discussion – rest assured that her glass will never be empty.'

'There was a rumour, while I was at school, that she wasn't, erm, averse to having a glass or two.'

'Seeing as that particular rumour was already making the rounds while I was at Hogwarts, there has to be some grain of truth to it.' He hoisted her up to sit astride his thighs. 'And what do you think, my dear?' His hand sneaked between her legs. 'Does the idea of getting married to the Minister of Magic's future political advisor appeal to you?'

'To be honest' – she threw her head back and moaned – 'the idea of getting married to a sex-crazed bastard like you holds enough appeal as it is. No, don't make me... Not yet, damn you!'

He smiled and retrieved his hand, to make her suck his finger. 'But you're so delicious to watch...' Sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, he nuzzled her breasts. 'And you know how much better the second one is. Do sit down, ma'am.' He gestured at his cock and inhaled sharply when she slid down. 'I'm already regretting my choice of handfasting ritual – a whole week of abstinence before the wedding seems hardly fair.'

Hermione chuckled and arched her back, increasing the friction. 'That'll teach you to read the small print next time.'

'I must say I find this show of unbridled gloating' – he thrust up hard, making her cry out – 'very unbecoming in my bride. You could have told me.'

Her nails dug into his biceps when he thrust again. 'I didn't want to insult your intelligence.' She leaned in for a deep kiss. 'But if it's any comfort to you, I hate it too.' Holding him in a tight embrace, she slowed their rhythm a little. 'By the way,' she whispered into his ear, 'I'm not going to wear anything under my bridal robes.' She bit his earlobe. 'Just so you know. Only stockings. The very finest silk your money can buy. With lovely...' She moaned when his finger slowly stroked down between the cheeks of her arse. 'Ohmygodyes! Garters!'

vvvvv

Her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth and forehead wrinkled in concentration, Ginny was copying a complicated set of runes from a sheet of parchment onto Hermione's lower back.

'Thanks for doing this for me,' Hermione said. 'Luna would probably have drawn some strange magical creature, and somehow I wouldn't feel comfortable with Mum doing it.'

'Considering that love bite on your shoulder, I must say I sympathize. Not something you'd like your mother to see.'

Hermione giggled. 'It's all that abstinence I guess. We got a little, um, carried away last night. Stopped just in time.'

'I thought Lucius was a bit on edge. Though I have to say he's really making an effort to be nice to me. Giving us the rooms with connecting doors was an especially nice touch, really. I'm sure Draco will appreciate it a lot.' She continued her drawing in silence for a moment, then said, 'Just imagine... Snape's doing the same right now to Lucius. Interesting thought, isn't it?'

'Interesting in which sense?' Hermione tried to turn her head far enough to get a look at Ginny's face but had to give up for lack of flexibility.

'Interesting in the sense that it's a major turn-on.'

Hermione yelped. 'Ginny! I never thought – Does the thought of two men turn you on?'

'Well, obviously. Not just any two men, of course. But your husband and his friend of old... Doesn't that do anything for you? I've often wondered about their friendship being not quite platonic.'

'Maybe I should've asked mum to apply the runes,' Hermione growled. 'I don't think I could feel much more embarrassed, love bite or not.' She rubbed the bridge of her nose. 'Honestly, I never had reason to assume that Lucius is anything but straight.'

'Well, so am I. But that doesn't mean I didn't do a bit of experimenting back in the old days. Lots of people do, you know. You really had other things on your mind while we were at Hogwarts, so I suppose you never got round to doing your own bit of experimenting, but believe me, there was a lot going on in the dormitories.'

'Oh god!' Hermione groaned. 'Ginny, please, have mercy! I'll be sitting between the two of them during the feast, I won't be able to look left or right without blushing!'

'Between your husband and his best friend...' Ginny started drawing another rune on her friend's left shoulder blade.

'Ginny, stop it! Now! Please!'

'I wonder if Lucius told him that you won't be wearing any underwear.'

'Ginny, I mean it!'

'All right, all right. Let's switch to a less offensive topic. When are your parents going to arrive?'

'McG told me she'd send a ministry car to their house in the early afternoon. They ought to be here around three p.m., I think. Same time as Luna and Neville. Luna looks lovely in her bridesmaid's robes, don't you think? I mean you do too but I already told you so.'

'Green looks good on her, yes – makes her look a bit like a wood elf, don't you think? By the way, I got an owl yesterday from Parvati and Lavender – they told me I'd get my bridal robes and the robes for the bridesmaids for free, isn't that wonderful? I mean, I could afford them, now that I don't have to save up for a cottage anymore, but it's much better this way.'

'Those two are giving something away for free?' Hermione snorted. 'You sure Draco didn't put them under Imperius?'

'No, no. They said that because of your wedding they practically have to fight off customers. Everybody wants to buy their outfits at Frills & Fripperies, since the Prophet reported that that's where your bridal robes come from.'

'And I wonder who told the prophet,' Hermione murmured.

'I may have dropped a word to Rita. And mentioned that I did so to Parvati and Lavender. Purely by accident, of course. All right, I'm done. Facial hair next, okay?'

'That stupid ritual,' Hermione muttered, sitting up and fishing for her dressing gown. 'If at least the preparations could be done magically, I wouldn't mind. But having my facial hair torn out with a piece of string...'

'It's not that bad. I practised on myself – it just stings a bit, and the skin gets a little red and blotchy, but the new facial lotion Snape developed works miracles. Draco gave me a bottle, it's not on the market yet but fully tested, so you don't need to worry about having to get married with green tentacles coming out of your ears or anything.' She took a piece of cotton thread and made a loop, holding one end of the thread in each hand and pinching the loop closed with her left thumb and index. 'Ready to suffer?'

'It's unfair,' Hermione grumbled. 'Lucius can just shave while I...'

'He can't use a shaving charm, though. You'll be lucky if he doesn't cut off his head in the process.'

'Dad said he'd help him. So I suppose the perfection of his aristocratic features won't be marred by cuts and sticking plaster. Ouch!' Her hand flew up to her cheek. 'Did you say it stings a bit? That bloody hurt!'

'So you're more sensitive than I am,' Ginny commented, mercilessly repeating the operation. 'Funny though, eh? What has the world come to – Lucius Malfoy being shaved by his Muggle father-in-law...'

'Who's only three years his senior. If this wasn't a completely mad world, Lucius ought to get married to somebody my mum's age.'

'Well, he was. You don't mind the age difference, do you?'

'No, why should I? Although I have to say that sitting there in December playing the mater-in-law to you will probably feel a bit funny.'

Once the ordeal of facial depilation was finished, the two young women decided to have a cup of coffee and relax for a while. The wedding was to start at five, and they had a long evening ahead of them.

vvvvv

'For somebody who hates dancing, you're doing very well,' Hermione said to Severus.

He gave her a sardonic look down his nose. 'I am known to do my duty, Miss, I beg your pardon, Mrs Malfoy.'

'Don't you think' – she almost stumbled when they had to negotiate their way past a rather clumsy couple, but he caught her – 'Thank you. What I wanted to say: don't you think, now that I'm married to Lucius, what with you being his best friend – you could start calling me Hermione, if you'd like to.'

'Your offer is most gratefully accepted. Switching to Mrs Malfoy would be... rather strange. And Miss Granger is out of the question, obviously.'

'Especially since the word detention always seems to linger somewhere close when you call me Miss Granger.'

'Now don't boast, Hermione. I gave you detention only once, in your seventh year. And you'd deserved it. Many times over, but you were clever enough not to get caught.'

'Or fortunate.'

He merely smirked. 'I'm sure we'd both like to forget your school antics. This is a different lifetime, and if I'm to call you Hermione, please do call me Severus. The moment has come to get rid of all those old burdens, not least because I have to be careful to stay on your good side.'

There was a faint undertone of... what was it? Anxiety? Distress? Anger, even? Hermione wasn't quite sure what he was hiding under the superficial smoothness, but she knew that his wasn't just polite bantering. 'Do you? I'll take that as a compliment, although I'm not quite sure what I owe it to.'

'Am I wrong in assuming you'd be able to persuade Lucius to spend less time in undesirable company?'

'You're one of his oldest friends, why would I do such a thing? Unless of course you decide to convince him that he needs to get back into the habit of cheating on his wife. That would be something I don't appreciate at all.'

'I don't think Lucius would be interested, and if he was, he certainly wouldn't care for any of your more creative hexes any more than I would, so that's rather out of the question.'

'Good point. But I assure you, I won't mind my husband spending time with his best friend, just as he used to do before we got married. Or did you think I'd give up my girls' nights with Ginny and other female friends?'

The waltz was over, and the crowd came to a brief standstill before movement began anew, when everybody was changing partners or going back to their tables. Severus kissed her hand. 'Thank you for the dance and the conversation, Hermione. I believe' – he scanned the room – 'it is now your mother's turn. Or do I have to dance with the bridesmaids first?'

'I have no idea, honestly. All I know is that I'm allowed to sit down now, and – oh, hello dad! I thought I might rest my poor feet for a while.'

'Nonsense,' Mr Granger said. 'You can rest your feet every day, but you get married only once. Or so I hope.'

'Oh, I have no intention to go through all this again,' Hermione said lightly. 'But maybe I could tempt you with a glass of my husband's best brandy? We might sneak off to the library... You could even loosen your tie for a moment,' she added sweetly, seeing her father's grimace of discomfort when he tried to wedge a finger between his collar and throat.

'If you're as resourceful in persuading your husband as you are in tempting me,' Mr Granger said when they had left the noise and heat of the ballroom and were making their way towards the library, 'the poor man doesn't stand a much better chance than I did against your mother.'

'I do have my moments. So does he, though. I think our powers of persuasion are more or less equally distributed between the two of us.' She handed her father a snifter of the 1863 Malefoi.

'Oh my...' Mr Granger stared at the glass after taking a sip. 'This is... I've never tasted anything like this!'

'It's one hundred and forty years old.'

Mr Granger held his tumbler up as if it was the Holy Grail. 'If you hadn't married him of your own free will, I swear I'd have bartered you for this.'

'Mum would have prevented me from becoming a bartered bride, I hope.'

'Don't be too sure. After Lucius smiled at her for the first time, Helen would have traded you for another of those smiles, without hesitation.'

That got him a giggle from his daughter. 'He could charm lions into campaigning for vegetarianism if he wanted, yes.'

'Come here,' Mr Granger said, waving her over to perch on his knees. 'The engagement and wedding – it all came rather, well, out of the blue, and we haven't had much time for talking lately, you and your old parents. I know that good looks, a large fortune and charming manners can't have been your reason for marrying Lucius. Your mother knows that, and I know that, and we both trust you. But... you told us some horrible things about the man who's just become your husband. I remember that he slipped your friend Ginny that book – something about basilisks, I think it was...'

Hermione decided not to refresh his memory on the exact nature of Tom Riddle's diary. Who needed to know what Horcruxes were anyway? Especially since they'd all been destroyed together with their maker.

'And he used his power to drive Dumbledore away from Hogwarts, and then there was that fight at the Ministry, where you got badly hurt...'

'He used to be a Death Eater, dad. That wasn't the kind of club where you were allowed to choose between evening activities, like between playing bridge and breaking into the Ministry of Magic. You'd joined Voldemort, you went where you were told to go, to do what you were told to do. But that's neither here nor there. He had time to think things over, and I think he used it well. Some people would say he has changed, I'd rather say that his beliefs have. The man underneath has remained quite unchanged, as far as I'm able to judge. I didn't know him all that well back in the old days, for obvious reasons.'

Mr Ganger sighed. 'In the end it all seems to come down to trust. You have never given your mother and me any reason to doubt your decisions – not that we liked all of them, mind you...'

'Is marrying Lucius one of those you don't like?'

'No, I don't think so. This one belongs to the Has-Hermione-Gone-Crazy category. Not disapproval, just disbelief, you know.'

'So long as you don't give him the If-You-Hurt-My-Daughter speech...'

'I love you very much, Hermione, but I have never felt the need to give that speech to anybody. You're absolutely capable of doing that yourself. Plus, you've got a wand and I haven't.' He emptied his glass and tightened his grip around his daughter's waist. 'You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but somehow I think I would've had more reason to give that speech to Ron.'

'You're a very wise man, dad. You know me, and so you know that passive-aggressive behaviour is likely to hurt me a lot more than a good fight. There's a lot of things one may say about Lucius, but one certainly can't accuse him of being passive-aggressive.' She got up and took her father's hand. 'Once more unto the breach, I think. You'll have to dance with Ginny.'

'Can't say I mind, she's such a lovely girl,' he said and rose as well. 'Would you fix that tie for me?' Hermione did so with a flick of her wand, and cast another charm to smooth out his trouser leg where her weight had left creases. Mr Granger tucked her arm into his, while they wandered back along the corridor. 'Any plans to make me a grandfather?'

'Not quite yet. I couldn't do that to mum before she turns fifty.'

Her father's snort was drowned out by the noise that washed over them when they opened the door to the ballroom.

vvvvv