Altered for the Altar

“Are you going to be a June bride, love? Christmas is a good time to get married, too, you know. I’ve had lots of girls say ‘I do’ then. But before all that we’ve got to talk about flowers, of course. You know, they set the mood for the whole day.”

I swallow down the nerves that are jumbling together in the pit of my stomach and smile stonily up at the man who was standing just a few paces in front of me, notebook of some kind hovering just below his hands. He was flipping through the pages while seemingly berating it with his wedding planning expertise; I was trying to refrain from running out of the room and taking sanction in the library.

“I like October,” I murmur, taking advantage of the break. I glance over at Draco, who has been sat in a chair next to me. I have to bite back a smirk because his grey eyes are steely and narrowed on the vibrantly dressed man who was our wedding planner. “Draco, what do you think?”

“Oh! You two haven’t discussed a date yet?” interrupts the man, whose name was Francis Kensell, though he said we should call him Fran. Draco doesn’t even bother to try and get in a word; he just remains seated, looking annoyed and aggravated and like one of his hands is twitching towards his pocket. “Merlin me! We have so much work to do and not nearly enough time! For the sake of Salazar, why haven’t the two of you discussed the wedding date yet?”

“Er, well—“

“We have two months to plan everything! I’m good, honey,” Fran says, snapping his notebook closed. “but I’m not that good.”

“We have agreed on a date, actually,” Draco hisses.

I nod. “Yes, we like October.”

Glancing over at Draco, he peels his fed-up gaze away from Francis and pulls up the corners of his mouth while swinging his eyes around to mine. He quickly sends me a wink before turning back to snarl at the lavish man who was flourishing around the room much too quickly. He’s stared to gather everything and is trying to tap it all with a piece of wood that seemingly works because it all evaporates.

“Merlin! An October bride! Never have I… I’ve brought all the wrong details! Someone told me that… But, June!”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Kensell?” asks Draco.

Francis pauses for a few seconds, sending a pleasant, sugary smile towards Draco as he laughs artificially and clasps his hands together in prayer form. He shuffles over to us before shaking his threaded hands.

“Of course not, Mr. Malfoy!”

“Good,” Draco murmurs. “I want Elizabeth to be happy, which means if she wants an October wedding, then we’ll have our wedding in October.”

“Of course, sir, of course. Just give me a minute to summon the right materials.”

Francis sends me a frozen look of fake happiness before bounding over to the tables that were now empty. He goes about murmuring and tapping his wand while letting out a wail every now and then. I just shake my head.

“Are you sure October is alright?” I ask Draco.

He leans over the left armrest of his chair, attempting to get closer so nosy Mr. Kensell won’t overhear. “’Course. If it’s what you want, then that’s perfect. None of this stuff really matters to me—I mean, the date and all that. My tie, though, is a different story.”

I chuckle and ease some at his words, relaxed by his allowing me to plan the majority of the affair. I liked doing this kind of thing: picking pretty flowers, matching colors with other variations of shades, looking for pretty dresses, drinking nice Champaign. I was good at it, expertly so, and it would be a good distraction with the looming promise of what the wedding actually meant always present in the back of my mind.

“Your tie is all yours.”

Draco lets out a laugh and nods his head in thanks.

Shortly after our exchange, Francis pushes back into the bubble of conversation ever so flamboyantly, clapping his hands together and appearing as if he’d gotten himself together.

“Fantastic! An October wedding! You’ll be one of the first, I’m sure!” He motions for me to stand, then grasps my hands in his and starts to haul me off, towards the table that seems to have something sparkling silver and dark green glittering down on top of it. I look over my shoulder to make sure Draco is following before letting Francis take my full attention. “Now, I don’t know what kind of theme you’re going for, Lizzie—“

“Her name is Elizabeth,” interrupts Draco harshly.

“Right, so sorry. As I was saying, Elizabeth, the theme. Now, have you had a thought as to what you want to go for? October is a very pretty time, with all the colors and such. Oh, and of course, Halloween!”

“Uh, well…”

Soon, I’m lost in the world where fall is the only season and October is the only month. Francis gets a little upset when I can only give him a smattering of details that I want (the ceremony at night in the garden and I’ll pick my own dress) and he explains that he’ll have a long list of things delivered to help me decide on things throughout the next week or two. By the time I manage to wrangle him out of the manor, I’ve been dusted in something silver and Draco has fallen asleep in a dark corner.

Scowling, I shake out my hair while starting for the blonde boy in the corner.

“Is he gone?” he whispers.

I chuckle and say, “Yes, but he left all his silver glitter here.”

When Draco lifts up his head, a pretty smile flits onto his lips, his cheeks tint a nice pink color, and he encloses my face between his hands while his thumbs work to clean off the skin of my jaw after he stands.

I’m caught off guard and end up freezing as he works slowly, gently. Swallowing thickly, I allow my eyes to lurch up to his, nearly stumbling backwards when I realize that he’s still smiling and now staring down at me.

“What did the wanker do, throw it all on you?” His tone is light and happy, easing me some and sort of defusing the tension I’d felt immediately building between us.

“Well, I sort of got caught in the shower while he was trying to get me to decide on a cake.”

Draco chuckles again and I smile brightly.

He holds my face for only a moment more, then, sighing, drops his hands. I blush and duck my head shyly while thanking him.

I start for the stairs soon after, giving him a wave as I start to think about trying to find the library and asking Leal for a cup of tea. But, halfway up, I hear Draco call my name and when I turn, he’s sprinting to catch up with me. I scale down a few steps to near the bottom.

“Uh, well,” he clears his throat and sends a hand through his blonde hair. “You want to have dinner with me? Theo told me about this great spot in downtown London last night.”

“Oh,” I murmur, surprised.

“You don’t have to. I just thought, you know… with Kensell and everything—“

“No, I’d like to. I’m sure Theo’s recommendations are topnotch.”

Chuckling, Draco joins me on my step and grins widely. “Yea? Good. I know you’ll like it. Theo said it’s real high class, not like that dingy pub we had tea with Blaise in. Promise.”

“I liked that… did you call it a pub?” He nods and laughs a little. “I liked it. It was charming.”

“Well, then you’ll love this place. It’s got table cloths and everything!”

My face is heating up with the laughter bubbling up and out of my mouth, and Draco’s face is bright as he smiles wide down at me.

I’m not sure what prompted him to ask me to dinner, but decide, as Draco asks if seven was alright and then waves goodbye with his too-big grin still on his lips, that it will be fun. We haven’t been anywhere except that little English wizarding village he’d taken me to; I thought it would be nice and, at the very least, I could experience more of his world, which I was always immensely curious about.

While I traipse up to my bedroom, I try to pretend like there aren’t other reasons for why I’m excited for tonight. I try to ignore them because I know it’ll just be trouble and I’ll fester over it till it’s nothing but gloom and soiled. That’s not easily done, though, and I end up spending way too much time sitting around my small dining table, mulling over what was to happen this evening and what I should wear.