No One
She was having Runaway Bride flashbacks. She was also beginning to think Julia Roberts had the right idea in the oscillating fan. It was so hot.
Hermione couldn't seem to stay still. The old Sunday school room was only so big and she'd been over every single square inch of it more than once.
"Nerves," she told herself, "perfectly normal."
A soft knock at the door nearly caused her to jump out of her skin.
"Come in!" she called trying to remember if she'd always been so jumpy and hoping that whoever was on the other side of that door hadn't heard the extremely girlish squeak she'd just emitted. She did NOTsqueak.
The door opened and the smile that lit her face was real for the first time that day. Her mother, Harry, Ginny, and Luna filed into the tiny little room and the surrealness of the situation hit her rather suddenly. She wasn't particularly religious, but Sundays as a child would always find her here. This was the church her parents were married in. It was a part of her past. Now it would be the place she started her future. She felt ill.
She turned to the floor-length mirror, examining her reflection. Everything seemed a little off today.
Her mother looked radiant in her pale pink mother of the bride dress. She was practically beaming at her as she bustled in and began to adjust Hermione's gown.
"Oh honey, you look just beautiful. I can't tell you how pleased your father and I are that you chose to do this the traditional way. I hope the Weasleys aren't too terribly disappointed."
Ginny snorted.
"Oh don't worry, Mrs. Granger. Dad couldn't possibly be any happier. He's been snapping pictures all morning." She grinned over at Harry. "Earlier, I caught him prodding a portrait of The Last Supper with his wand trying to get them to move."
"Well," Hermione thought, "at least someone's having a nice time."
Mrs. Granger pulled a camera out of her purse and began snapping pictures.
"I can't believe my little girl's getting married. You know, we always thought you'd be more of a career girl-"
"Mum!" Hermione felt her face begin to flush.
Thankfully Luna chose that time to break in.
"Hermione, your dress really is so lovely. And don't worry, I scanned the entire church for Fortuna Difettos and am happy to report I found none." She smiled in her patented spaced-out way.
Hermione really didn't know what to say to that.
"Wow, thank you, Luna. That….makes me feel loads better, really." She thought she may need to sit down.
Mrs. Granger couldn't seem to find anything else to rearrange. She took a step back, hands on hips, to examine the whole picture.
"I think that should do it, dear." She snapped another picture. "I'm going back out there; have to make sure your Aunt Joan doesn't try to steal my seat." She gave Hermione a quick hug and smiled warmly at Harry and Ginny on her way out.
"That's actually not a bad idea," Harry, who had been oddly silent throughout the entire exchange spoke up, "I bet Hermione could use a few minutes to herself. Someone's been in her hair since dawn."
She shot him a grateful smile. She knew there was a reason she loved Harry. Ginny looked like she was about to cry.
"Ginny, don't you do it. I know that look."
The girl in question brought her hands together at her chest, crushing her bouquet and letting the tears finally fall.
"I can't help it! It's all just so perfect! " She gave Hermione a tight, watery hug. "It's about time I finally got a sister." Harry sniggered.
"And what does that make Fleur?"
"Oh yeah." Ginny looked thoughtful then shook her head. "Hermione counts more than that, she's been around longer."
"Thanks, Gin."
She winked at her as she gave Harry a fond nudge on the way out the door. Hermione looked at Harry who smiled reassuringly back as he walked toward her, hands in pockets.
"So, how are you holding up?"
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and waved her hands slightly, once again wishing for that fan, in an attempt to keep them from sweating.
Harry chuckled. "That's what I figured." He grinned at her.
"How's Ron?" she asked, proud that her voice barely cracked at all.
Harry's grin turned downright wicked.
"Oh, he's thoroughly freaked."
Her eyes widened.
"He is? Really? Maybe this is a bad idea. It's rushed; does it feel rushed to you? We could just wait a few years. I'm su—" She was babbling and she knew it but somehow she just couldn't make the words stop coming.
Harry stepped forward and pulled her to him, effectively stopping both the verbal diarrhea and her waving hands.
"Shh, calm down." He rubbed circles on her back as she buried her face in the front of his suit. For some reason someone holding her had always made it harder for her to hold back tears. Suddenly she was very grateful that Ginny had charmed all her make-up to be waterproof.
He pulled back and continued rubbing her arms.
"You're doing the right thing. It's fine to be nervous."
She sniffed in an extremely unladylike manner.
"Were you nervous?"
She looked so pitiful that Harry felt a little bad for her. She looked like someone just killed her cat.
"No. I was terrified."
She frowned slightly.
"Really? I saw you right before and you seemed fine."
He smiled. "That's because by that time I was so scared I had switched into autopilot. Shake this hand, hug them, and smile now. You know the drill."
She was shocked. There was no way she would ever have thought that.
Harry, sensing her astonishment, continued.
"I was a nervous wreck. But, the second I saw Ginny walking down that aisle toward me, she was so beautiful, I forgot all about it. It just seemed like this was what I'd been waiting my entire life to do." He ruffled his hair and wrinkled up his face as if trying to find the right words. "I just knew it was going to be alright, you know?"
She gave him a watery smile and wiped her eyes. "Thanks, Harry."
He shrugged and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"That's what I'm here for. I'll give you a minute. Gin will come get you when they're ready to begin."
He shut the door and once again she was alone. The temporary relief she had felt when Harry was there left the room with him and the panic hit her so hard she had trouble catching her breath. She turned back and examined her reflection once more. It really was a gorgeous dress. It was a sleeveless, flowing, Oleg Cassini creation. Yards and yards of glowing white material flowed from the fitted bodice and pooled around her feet like a cloud. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had spent the better part of the morning coaxing her unruly hair into perfect, shiny, ringlets that cascaded down her back almost to her waist. Her fingernails were manicured for maybe the second time in her life and she looked down to the tasteful diamond ring on her left hand.
She fidgeted with it, thinking back to another ring.
He pulled a small, velvet-covered box out of the cedar chest at the end of his bed. He dusted off the top and stood, walking back to her, offering the box to her. She took it and with an affirmative nod from him, she opened it. He smiled at her appreciative gasp.
It was a skating rink. The band was a delicate twist of platinum inlaid with dozens of tiny perfect emeralds. The diamond in the middle was a gorgeous brilliant cut and connected to the band at four different points. She's never seen anything quite like it.
He looked a little distressed. He ran a hand through his hair; a gesture she knew meant he was nervous
"It's been in the Malfoy family for thousands of years. When it is time for the next heir to give it to his intended it automatically resizes to her finger before she ever sees it. It knows somehow when the heir decides who he wants and reacts accordingly." He grimaced. "You know how perfection is valued in this family."
She looked up at him, fascinated, then back down at the ring. He watched her with a look she couldn't place.
"Try it on." He whispered.
She met his gaze questioningly. He was more serious than she'd ever seen him. He crossed the space between them and took the box from her shocked hands. He didn't look at her as he removed the ring from its packaging. His hands were warm and shook slightly as he took her left hand and carefully slid the gorgeous piece of jewelry onto the second to last finger.
It was a perfect fit.
Her heart beat so fast and hard she was sure he could hear it. He didn't release her hand; he just stared at the ring on her finger like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.
When he looked up at her his eyes were bright and the smile he gave her made her whole body tingle.
"Hermione," he began.
Suddenly she was finding it very hard to breathe. Her temperature flashed from warm to cold and back again as he lowered himself to one knee before her and looked up at her, all guards down, pure and simple Draco.
"I know I haven't been a positive part of your life and you'll never know just how much I regret that I didn't find you sooner. I love you, Hermione. And I want you to know that when I say that it's not because I want something from you or think I can't have you. For once in my life, it has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity what you are. You're one hell of a woman, regardless of your background and what everyone else thinks and I love you with everything I am. Marry me; let me prove it to you."
She was stunned. She felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes and he stood up quickly and crushed her to him.
"Hermione don't cry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spring this on you I just—"
She pulled back enough to watch the play of emotion across his face as she closed the distance between them and kissed him as her answer.
She wiped away the tears and wondered how it still hurt so bad to think of him. She felt a little panicky and sat down hard on the tiny stool in the room, her dress poofing out around her, as the pain of the months that followed that night hit her as hard as a physical force.
She was happily cooking away when she heard the door shut signaling that he was finally home. She loved this new side of her that liked being domestic. She'd never really pictured herself being happy with someone. She bounced happily into the living area ready to pounce on him only to be stopped by the look on his face. She frowned.
"Draco, what is it?"
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. His voice shook as he began.
"I got a letter from my father today."
Her blood ran cold. That was never a good way to start a conversation. Lucius had been very adamant in his opposition to their marriage, swearing it was nothing against her personally and that if she was only pure of blood there would be no issue. Hermione wasn't sure, but she considered her blood a very personal thing.
"And?" She was almost afraid to ask.
"He says if I go through with this he'll disown me financially and personally. Also, he wants the ring back. Said it was a family artifact and that if I was no longer family I had no right to it."
She recoiled as if she'd been slapped automatically cradling her left hand. She loved the ring and everything it symbolized she meant to him. Her eyes welled up at the thought of having to part with it.
"Hermione I'm so sorry." He looked genuinely distraught.
"It's not your fault, Draco. He's set in his ways."
"I know, but it doesn't make it any less wrong. If only he could realize blood means nothing. You're living proof that inferior blood has nothing to do with magical ability."
Her eyes narrowed. "Inferior? That's how you think of me? As something of "inferior" blood?" Her pitch was in the stratosphere at this point. She felt her heart crack. How could he still think of her like that? After everything they'd been through he still thought her to be inferior. She shook her head and at that moment she realized she'd been kidding herself all along. This could never work.
He looked startled by her outburst. "No! Hermione I didn't mean that! I meant how he thinks! You know I don't think of you that way anymore."
Her expression remained one of cold indifference. Like hell she was going to let him know how bad he'd wounded her.
"Really, Draco? Then why is it that when you get invitations from your old school mates they're addressed to you and not to us? Why is it that the word "inferior" slides out of your mouth so easily still after all we've been through? Know why?" She pulled the ring off of her finger and immediately felt incomplete without it. "It's because you aren't really as changed as you think. It still bothers you, even though it shouldn't. You might as well have referred to me as a mudblood."
She held the ring out to him. "I wouldn't want you to have to choose between your family and a mudblood."
His face hardened. She knew how he worked. If he was hurt at all this is how he retaliated. He just shut down.
He stretched out his hand and she dropped the ring into it rather than have to touch him. She knew if he touched her, her resolve to do what must be done would shatter.
She turned on her heel and went to pack her things. His expression never changed. She didn't look at him as she left and he didn't try to stop her. She was sure there was nothing left of her heart to salvage. It had shattered to powder and there was no putting it back together.
A soft knock on the door startled her out of her memories. She frantically tried to control herself. She checked her face in the mirror and was thankful that, due to the make-up, the only thing that looked out of place was that her eyes were just a little too bright. She cleared her throat.
"C-come in, Ginny! I'm almost ready." She stood, smoothed her dress, and began searching for her flowers as the door opened and a voice that was most definitely not Ginny's replied.
"I'm not Weasley, Granger."
She froze as the familiarity of his voice slid down her spine and calmed her like nothing else ever would. She looked up and drank him in. He was dressed in solid black, something she hadn't seen him do in a long time. Black looked nice on him because it made his stand-out hair stand out even more and accentuated his gorgeous grey eyes. The thought vaguely crossed her mind that he looked as though he was in mourning. His expression was so cold and distant it was hard for her to remember times she'd seen his eyes full of something else. Amusement, anger, passion, love…
He shut the door and stood there just looking at her. She couldn't seem to find her voice. Finally she steeled herself.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy? No one saw you did they?" She tried and failed miserably to sound nonchalant.
He smirked infuriatingly and had the nerve to stand there and look composed. Bloody bastard.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, no one saw me. What do you take me for? A Gryffindor?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to see if you were all set to marry beneath you is all." He was still smirking. She was almost sure she could actually feel her blood boil.
"Ron is a better man than you could ever hope to be and even if he were beneath me, not everyone" she looked pointedly at him, "has a problem with things like that."
His smirk faltered and his face took on a more solemn expression. When he spoke his voice was soft and full of emotion.
"I had to see you once more time before—"He gestured to her dress.
"Well you've seen me now kindly leave." She turned back around, seemingly engrossed in adjusting her veil.
"Hermione," he began.
She shut her eyes and tried to block him out. She hated the way he always said her name like it was something secret.
"No, Malfoy. I won't let you ruin this for me." She almost believed herself.
He crossed the small room and pulled her around to face him. His eyes were wild and he looked desperate.
"Don't do this, please. I'm so sorry I didn't come after you."
She shut her eyes again trying unsuccessfully to block out his words. She'd imagined this moment over and over the last year and never was it on this day with her standing in front of him in a wedding dress about to marry another man.
He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him.
"Look at me, Hermione. Believe me. Don't do this. I don't care what my father thinks and I should never have hesitated. I just don't work without you." His tone was pleading and if her heart wasn't already in tatters that would have done it.
"Draco, don't do this. Just go home and leave me be. I wouldn't let you give up your family for me. That shouldn't be how it has to be." She pulled away from him and held her hair up off her neck. Damn this room and its lack of fan.
He shook his head and met her eyes in the mirror. The intensity with which he surveyed her made her warm in ways that had nothing to do with the temperature.
"I don't care. I love you."
She sighed. He was making this so hard.
"I do care. That's the problem. If I didn't I'd be fine with letting you give up your entire identity for me, but I do so I'm not. Even if that were to happen, you'd end up hating me for it and then we'd do nothing but prove your father right." She shook her head again sadly, trying to convey to him the hopelessness of their situation. He'd have to be pretty thick not to get it.
He ran a hand through his hair. She loved his hair. It was so unfair that guys always got the gorgeous hair most girls would kill for. She wanted to hold him and make it all better. He looked so lost.
His face brightened and he stepped forward and grabbed both her hands in his.
"You don't love him. You can't possibly."
She tried to pull away, but he wasn't budging.
"I do love Ron. Very much." She couldn't look at him.
"But not like you love me. " He countered.
Her jaw clenched as she tried to hold back the tears. Of course not, but there was no help for that.
"You're right," she said, "I don't love him like I love you. I'll never love anyone like I love you. But the thing about Ron is that he loves me the way I love you and just because I can't have my happy ending doesn't mean he shouldn't get his." She smiled a little sadly.
She couldn't stop her hand from reaching up to smooth the hair he'd messed up out of his face. He leaned into her touch and as she lowered her hand he caught it and planted a lingering kiss in her open palm.
"There's no changing your mind is there?" He whispered.
"No, there really isn't. We're doing the right thing." She replied, voice just as quiet.
The muscle in his jaw twitched.
"I don't see any situation where you're wearing this dress for someone that isn't me the right thing, especially when that someone that isn't me is Weasley." The venom in his voice surprised her. Why couldn't he see?
"I would have made you happy, Hermione. So much happier than he ever will."
For a moment she let herself imagine how it would be if things had been different. Her eyes drifted shut as she pictured kissing him in front of their friends and family as the priest said "You may now kiss the bride." She pictured them honeymooning on a distant tropical island where they would take to the bed and not leave for three days. She pictured a nice-sized flat where her clothes and his hung together in the bedroom closet and their toothbrushes lived in the same cup on the bathroom counter. She pictured blond, brown-eyed children with his smile playing in the yard and them sending those children off to Hogwarts to come home to an empty house to sit together in front of the fireplace and be sound in the knowledge that they raised them well. She pictured them old together sitting in front of the same fireplace surrounded by pictures of their children and grandchildren that would never be. She was crying again.
She opened her eyes and flashed him a brilliant smile. He smiled back and then he was kissing her. She poured everything she had into the kiss because she knew it would most likely be their last. Teeth clashed and tongues battled for control. She saw spots at the edge of her vision from lack of air, but she didn't care. When he finally pulled away her resolve faltered. There was nothing stopping her from leaving with him. Ron would be hurt but he would understand in time. The look in her eyes must have let him know what she was thinking because he opened his mouth as if to speak. There was another knock on the door, jolting her back to reality.
"H-Hermione? Uh-They-uh-they're ready for—us. "
Ron. Sweet, sweet Ron.
How could she ever have thought she could hurt him? She didn't deserve someone like him, she really didn't. The door made as if to open and she jumped into action to stop it.
"Ron! It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!" Her heart was pounding. This was such an awkward situation.
"Oh, sorry." She could tell he was blushing. "I just—needed to hear your voice. So" He hesitated slightly, "you're coming?"
She looked back over to Draco, whose face was blank once more. This was her chance. He'd asked her a question. So what would she do?
"Yes, Ron, I'm coming." She heard him let out a relieved breath.
"Right. So. I'll see you, yeah? I love you."
"I love you, too." She replied, looking straight at Draco.
She heard Ron's footsteps recede down the hall.
"I guess that's it then." He sounded so sad.
"I guess so." She didn't know what else to say. There was so much she wanted to, but none of it would help anything.
He walked over to her and pulled her close. She buried her face in his shoulder trying not to think about how well she fit there. She breathed in deeply the mix of citrus, spices, and sandalwood that was signature Draco, trying to emblazon it on her memory. It was the way he smelled fresh out of the shower, the way he smelled when she woke up next to him, and the way her pillow always smelled long after he was gone. She was going to miss it horribly.
He pulled back and kissed her on the cheek. She leaned into it, relishing the feel of his lips on her skin.
His eyes were watery now too and she tried to smile through her tears.
"It'll always be you, Hermione. I locked the ring in my vault. Whoever I'm forced to marry will get something bought from a jewelry store. It wouldn't be right to give it to anyone else."
She felt relived for some reason. That ring would always be hers now. It made everything a little more bearable.
"You're stunning. Weasley's luckier than he realizes. I love you, Hermione. "
"I love you too." He nodded once as if accepting it and with that he was gone and she was once again alone.
She drew a deep breath and picking up her flowers, she gathered her dress up and left her little sanctuary. She would never be ready for this, but it wasn't getting any better. There was no feeling of rightness. There was no sudden calm. There was simply, "This is what's next." And that would have to be good enough for now.
A/N: This is the first thing I've written in a LONG time. It's not amazing but it's a start I figure. I'm betaless so any mistakes you find I'm sorry I missed. The ring was entirely made up. The dress was based on one I found when I googled the designer. Draco's proposal was based on a Buffy the Vampire Slayer quote that I always thought fit Draco/Hermione. Annnd...the line about how he says her name I stole from the Fall Out Boy song Chicago is So Two Years Ago. Thanks for taking the time to read this and hopefully you'll review and let me know what you thought. It makes me happy. ;);)