Work Text:
A bustling of activity played out ahead of Hermione, as preparations were underway for the event of the season. Sparing no expense for their wedding day, Draco and Ron had outdone themselves. The private estate was lush with greenery and featured perfectly manicured lawns. The rose garden provided the perfect pop of color as the backdrop for the intimate bonding ceremony they requested, which would be held with only close friends and family before their larger reception.
When Ron approached her about being his best woman, she had a dichotomy of emotions. Happiness for him finding the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and a twinge of jealousy for finding his forever person. Of course, she agreed instantly.
Her next surprise came in the form of shared responsibilities with none other than Pansy Parkinson, who Draco had asked to be his best woman. She had long admired the confident, stylish witch, and her heart fluttered at the idea of spending more time with her.
“Granger?”
At the melodic sound of her name, Hermione pulled herself out of her musings. She followed the voice, finding the exact person she had been thinking of peering at her from the adjacent balcony. The sun was peeking over the horizon, the rays falling ethereally across Pansy’s soft black hair.
“Parkinson,” she breathed out. The mere sight of the woman gave her butterflies. Emerald green eyes sparkled back at Hermione, gentle laugh lines showing as Pansy gave her a devastatingly perfect smile. She could write poetry about those lips– plump, velvety, and heart-shaped.
“Are you alright? I’ve called your name a few times already,” Pansy quipped, her hands coming up to tame a few flyaways. Hermione tracked the motion of Pansy’s long fingers with her own chocolate-brown eyes, and a pleasant thrill shot through her body.
“I was admiring the way the rose garden turned out. Looks like Nev and Mrs. Malfoy make quite the team.”
Pansy peered down from her balcony, nodding her agreement while she surveyed the sight before them. “They have been talking non-stop for months about plants and flowers.”
The sun had breached further, spreading its warmth across the expanse of the property. Hermione appreciated the morning glow, finding it a necessary distraction from her desire to drink in the beautiful witch in proximity to her.
“Want to come over for a cuppa before the grooms get wind that we are awake?” Pansy asked, her eyes burning into the side of Hermione’s face, her attention sending fire through her veins.
“That sounds lovely. I’ll be right over.” Hermione felt the heat of a blush forming on her cheeks, and she awkwardly waved before heading back into her room. She caught a glance of herself in the standing mirror and took a moment to fluff out her unruly curls. She considered changing her outfit, but her pulse raced at the promise of more time with Pansy and decided to stay in her pajamas.
Get it together, Granger. It is just tea.
✦˚༺✦༻˚✦
Whenever Pansy made Hermione ‘Golden Girl’ Granger blush, she felt a sense of pure satisfaction. Watching her this morning had been an absolute treat. Especially the way her curls danced in the wind and her full, pink lips slightly parted; she had become familiar with this flustered, far-away look. It was a look that often lived rent-free in her mind.
Draco had insisted that she be his best woman, and she couldn’t refuse her oldest friend. When she found out that Ron had asked Hermione to be his, she had wholeheartedly agreed again. Draco said it was important for them to have the women representing them in their bonding ceremony as their closest friends. She had mused at him about how tooth-rottingly sweet it all was.
A knock came only moments later.
“Come in, it’s unlocked!”
Pansy was an early riser, and had spent her morning enjoying the sunrise, the warmth spreading across her face as the light crested across the horizon. She had requested a tea and breakfast service be brought up and was expecting it to be delivered at any moment.
Hermione pushed into the room, her hair fluffed up, and her face still tinged with small splotches of her earlier blush. Pansy’s magic pulsed delightfully as she watched the brown-haired witch, the other woman’s chocolate brown eyes sparkling.
“Come here,” Pansy demanded, her voice dropping slightly as an overwhelming heat spread throughout her.
Hermione instantly obeyed, moving towards her in elegant grace, the swish of her silk pyjamas echoing through the open French doors. Pansy admired the outline of her lean frame, the contours of her soft stomach, and her perky breasts peaking through.
“Morning, Parkinson.” The shorter witch stepped in close as she placed a small kiss on her cheek. The feeling of her soft lips brushing against Pansy’s heated skin unraveled her.
“Morning,” she breathed out, allowing the flash of magic of their breakfast arriving as an excuse to turn around and hide her own formed blush. The tea service was set up perfectly on the elegant table, with an assortment of pastries and summer fruit.
“Looks delightful,” Hermione moaned behind her. She was well known for her love of all things sweet, and Pansy had planned accordingly.
As they settled in across from each other, Pansy prepared two cups of tea. She had memorized the way Hermione took it, with two sugars and a splash of milk.
“You remember how I like my tea,” Hermione exclaimed with a beaming smile, reaching for the offered cup.
“I never forget the little things about people who are important to me,” Pansy murmured with a secretive smile.
Their hands brushed against each other; the touch of the other witch was enough to send a shockwave of warmth through Pansy. She had become increasingly fascinated with the woman before her over the years, and the more time she spent with Hermione, the more she realized that her interest had grown into something more. With the way she was staring at her, eyes wide and cheeks pink, Pansy wondered if Hermione felt the same way.
“Before we get swept up in the day, I wanted to say it has been amazing spending so much time together, Parkinson. I hope we can continue seeing each other after.” Hermione kept a steady gaze locked on Pansy as she sipped her tea.
She gave a small nod in agreement, the smile on her companion's face growing even bigger. The way it lit up her face was enough to fuel Pansy's courage to leap into something more.
“When are you going to start calling me Pansy?”
Hermione bit her bottom lip; her eyes smoldered.
“I suppose when you start calling me Hermione.”
Pansy allowed herself a breathy laugh, feeling an even stronger attraction pulse between them.
“Alright then, Hermione. After the wedding, we can figure out what happens next.”