She wasn't going to cry. One the happiest day of her life she absolutely, positively would not cry. She was Hermione Bloody Granger and she would stand up from her chair, leave this room, and be the happiest, most radiant, blushing bride any of the people waiting in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor had ever seen; with or without the two people who meant the world to her.

It had been one year, two months, and thirteen days since she had announced to her closest friends that she was dating Draco Malfoy. And it had been one year, two months, and thirteen days since they had told her they needed "some time" to come to terms with her being in love with a former Death Eater. Hermione had given them space and time and had not even made a fuss when she had walked by the Weasleys and Harry in Diagon Alley six months on only to have every single one of them avert their eyes from her. It had hurt, it had felt like her heart was being ripped out, but she was willing to do whatever it took for them to accept Draco.

One year to the day of her big announcement, she had sent them an invitation to her wedding. Space or no space, she knew her best friends would not miss the biggest day of her life. One year and six days later, her best friends proved her wrong. The invitation she had sent to Harry and the extended Weasley family was unceremoniously returned to her in a small leather pouch, ripped to pieces.

There had never been a moment in her courtship and eventual engagement to Draco that made her doubt her choice to be with him more than the moment when she realized her pseudo-family would never accept him. But as she stood at the end of that aisle today, staring down at the man who would be her husband, she knew she would never have a doubt again. She loved this man; he made her happier than she could ever remember being, and if her two thick-headed best friends couldn't accept her happiness, it was their loss. Now she just had to convince herself to leave the powder room and face her wedding reception that she never expected would contain far more Slytherins than Gryffindors.

She stood slowly, facing the mirror to make sure that her teensy, tiny mental breakdown hadn't left her gorgeous dress or hair ruffled and ripped the door open before she could change her mind. She didn't make it far, however, before she walked directly into a solid wall in the form of her husband. The worry etched on his handsome face made her feel even worse; this was his wedding day, too, and he couldn't have felt good when his bride ran away the minute after they vowed their everlasting love.

She reached up, gently grasping his face in her hands before leaning up to kiss him. It took him a moment to respond, but soon he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him so tightly she could tell he was worried to let her go. It was time to suck it up, smile, and enjoy her wedding day. She would not let her ignorant friends ruin the most special day of her life, of their lives.

"I love you," she said as she pulled away, happy to see the effect her words had on her worried husband. "I just ..."

"I know," Draco said, his grey eyes showing his understanding. "I'm sorry they didn't come, but we have time to convince Pothead and the Weasel that this is right; the rest of our lives, even."

Oh, yes, she had made the right choice. Even though Draco clearly couldn't help himself from taking an easy jab at Harry and Ron, she knew he was willing to let bygones be bygones if it meant she was happy.

"Chin up, Granger," Draco said, smoothing down the few curls that had made their way out of her elegant coiffe.

She smiled and took his hand, walking back towards the ballroom, but not before making sure she had the last word.

"It's Malfoy now."