She was no prize.
Clad in rough, worn-out Muggle clothing, several inches too small, hair knotted and tangled, streaming down her back. Her face splattered with mud, cinnamon eyes puffy and squinting, but he loved her for what was inside. She was there, fighting for her life, because of him.
He was beautiful.
Clad in fine wizard's robes of the best quality, silver-blonde hair flopping into silver-gray eyes, but she loved him for what was inside, not for his beauty. She was there, fighting for their love, for him.
She was beautiful.
Clad in a gold and white wedding dress, walking up the aisle- to the wrong man. She'd followed her head, rather than her heart, and was marrying this freckled redhead. She turned her head, and saw him. Her eyes filled with tears. His heart broke.
He was no prize.
Clad in a ratty t-shirt and disgusting Muggle pants, sobbing in his room. He was crying because of her, because he'd left the wedding before she'd renounced her promises, and turned her back on common sense.
They were happy.
Together. A baby's squall filled the air. His soft silvery-blonde hair barely covered his head, and his cinnamon eyes sparkled.
Hermione moaned, and rolled over in bed. "Your turn,"
Draco groaned, and rolled out of bed. "I hate you,"
Hermione smiled lazily. "No you don't, you're just saying that to make me feel better,"
Draco leaned over and kissed her softly. "Possibly,"
They were Them.