Wedding Planning

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Heads up! I did put some French in here but there's a translation beside it. ENJOY

*Freya's POV*

Every day there seemed to be a new project to keep me busy, I worked endlessly at my shop and without someone around to help I was running my shop like a mad man. Fred and George tried to their best to help when I needed it the most, but they had their hands tied with their own business. Unfortunately the only person I could get to help wasn't well received by the twins so telling them that Draco Malfoy was helping around the shop while I was planning my wedding wasn't a smart move.

"What's George middle name?"

"I don't know," I scoffed as I quickly restocked the shelves of the punk rock section. Lately, this section seemed to be flying.

"How about his favorite color then?"

"Don't know," I answered back.

"Come on! What's his favorite quidditch team? You have to know this!"

"I don't remember actually," I muttered. I huffed as Draco leaned against the glass case that housed a beautiful cherry wood viola. "Why are you drilling me with questions?"

Draco shrugged, "just thought I'd see how well you know the man you're going to be marrying soon."

"well, quit it."

Draco smirked, "that section over there needs to be fixed as well," he pointed over his shoulder.

"Fine, fine! Make sure you straighten the back of the shop, I want it spotless," I brushed pass him and quickly organized the rock CDs.

"The stress getting to you?" Draco called from across the room.

"Of course! It also doesn't help that I work endless hours, have little time to plan, and I have no one to help me find a dress."

"Make the other weasel do it, the one with both ears."

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "call my friends by their names, Malfoy."

"Why should I? I'm helping you because I'd rather...." Draco shrugged, "I don't know, I'd actually enjoy seeing this shop do well, and that doesn't include calling your friends by their real names."

I sighed, "fine. but you know you have to hide the second any of them walk in."

Draco had a smug look on his face, one of defiance, "I can do whatever the bloody hell I want, love. And if I feel like standing out in the open, so be it."

"I hate you," I muttered darkly.

"So, what house was George in?"

"Gryffindor."

"What position did he play on the quidditch team?"

I paused, I remember this, I swear I do! "beater."

"Out of the ten questions I've posed today, you only got two right. Are you sure you're going to go through with this marriage or is there another reason?" Draco turned around and eyed me suspiciously, his eyes lingering around my midriff.

"We're getting married because I love him, not for any other reason you daft fool!" I seethed, hiding my midriff from view.

Draco shrugged, "Drakie! Are you in here?!" Draco's eyes grew huge as the front door swung open, we were obscured by the aisles but not by much as the sound of heels clicked on the wooden floor.

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