Rows and rows of dark oak chairs with ferns along each side, clearly identifying where the aisle was. As his eyes followed the lines of ferns, he could see them come together in an archway littered with twinkling lights and pansies. Of course. Given who the bride was today, he’d expect nothing less. What he could never have expected was her husband to be. Neville Longbottom of all people, although Draco had to concede that there was worse people Pansy Parkinson could marry. Himself included. 