(A/N: This is the last real chapter- see if you can spot the tribute to one of my all-time favorite movies, "Love, Actually". It's not a direct quote, but its close!)
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The courtroom emptied slowly, until only four people were left; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. Everyone else had filed out after the sentence had been pronounced, Rita going last, reluctantly, obviously hoping for the opportunity to interview at least one of the four young people, if not more. In the end, though, she'd been ushered out by security personnel in deference to a very pointed head-jerk from Harry. Hermione had to wonder at the horrible woman's audacity, to think for a single moment that even one of them would have granted her a statement. Three of them had hated her for years, and now Draco, after the things she'd written about him over the course of the trial, loathed her with a passion that fully matched, if not exceeded, that of the others. To think she could have gotten any of them to say word one to her was sheer idiocy.
Apparently, however, her eternal journalistic optimism had demanded that she try. She had not been happy about going.
What mattered, though, in the end, was that willing or not, she had gone.
Now the courtroom was quiet and still.
The moment the door shut after the protesting Rita, Hermione rose from her place in the gallery and practically flew to Draco's side. He was still in the defendant's chair, and as soon as the door had clanged shut he'd braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands, silver-white hair spilling through his fingers as he breathed a deep, shuddering sigh of relief. It was the sort of emotional reaction he'd refused to allow himself for the duration of the trial- now that he was finally alone, or nearly so, he could let it out at last. He could drop his guard and allow the reality of his sentence to sink in.
His sentence.
Hermione's mind was racing over the implications of it as she reached him, throwing herself to her knees in front of him and reaching up with both arms, to catch his face between her hands and pull it down until their foreheads were pressed together, reminding him, physically, that there was no reason for him to hold himself that way when she was there to do it for him. He slid out of the chair then, folding to his knees beside her, wrapping her in his arms and dropping his head to her shoulder as she did the same. There on the floor of the near-empty courtroom they clung to each other, allowing the fear that had lived in them over the past several days to finally wash away.
Hermione found herself literally shaking in the aftermath of that fear.
No Azkaban. Oh thank God, thank Merlin, thank Harry, no Azkaban.
A single year of house arrest, as opposed to a lifetime in prison; it was a far better outcome than she had dared allow herself to hope for. She would have access to most of the village herself; after all, she wasn't under house arrest, and there was a certain distance she could safely stray from Draco, and still be within the bounds of the spell. And Draco would be able to continue visiting his mother, albeit only on a weekly basis. Altogether, to say that the sentence had come as an enormous relief was something of an understatement.
But Merlin, was she tired. Just- utterly drained.
She felt boneless. Watery- like she'd barely be able to stand up. The trial had taken an immense toll on her; she could only imagine what it had been like for Draco. To have been the one in that defendant's seat- and now to owe the court's leniency, and his relative freedom, to Harry's intervention- she knew it had to be a very tough pill for him to swallow.
"Draco?" she murmured into his shoulder. His arms around her tensed, but other than that he gave no response. It was clear he didn't want to talk at the moment. Not about the trial, or the future, or anything.
"Okay," she whispered. "It's okay. I love you. I love you."
He just held her tighter.
There was no telling how long the two of them might have stayed that way, but a moment later Ron was standing over them, clearing his throat rather uncomfortably.
"C'mon, you two," he said, sounding supremely awkward, "time's passing, and there are things you need to do before eight o'clock, aren't there?"
Hermione pulled in a last, deep, unsteady breath, inhaling Draco's scent there where his shoulder met his neck… then pulled away and raised her head. Ron was right. This day was not yet over, and time was now at a premium. There were things to be done. Ron offered her his hand and she accepted it; he pulled her easily to her feet, and into a strong, if brief, hug.
"I still don't understand, Hermione," he said quietly, as Draco got to his feet behind her, "but God help me, I'm working on it. I'm working on it."
She tried to smile. Merlin, even her face was tired. "Thanks, Ron," she said quietly, "I mean- for coming here. For everything."
"Let those bastards send you to rot on that godforsaken rock? Not a bloody chance- not while there's breath in my body. But let's go, all right?"
She nodded dully. Then, glancing about the room, "where's Harry?"
"He stepped out when you… well. Erm. Hermione, you have to realize, he's trying to understand too, but it's even harder for him than for me. He's… he's really-" Ron broke off, ran a hand through his coppery hair. When he spoke again, it was obvious that he had decided not to continue what he'd been about to say. "He's probably just out in the corridor," he said, somewhat lamely.
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Harry was indeed in the corridor just outside the courtroom. He was standing with his back to the door as the other three came out, leaning his arm against the cool stone wall, and his forehead against his arm. He looked as utterly exhausted as Hermione felt- as though, were the wall not there to support him, he would collapse- yet there was a certain tension to him as well; both his fists were clenched.
It hurt Hermione's heart to see him that way. And to know, inescapably, that she was responsible- not for the exhaustion, perhaps, but for the tension, and for the fact that he couldn't look at her for longer than a couple of seconds, had fled the room when she'd dashed to Draco's side.
She wanted nothing but for things to go back to the way they had been between Harry and her- the easy camaraderie that they had shared for years and years. She wasn't naïve enough, however, to think that that could happen quickly or easily. It might never happen. It was altogether possible that she had broken her best friend's heart, and shattered his trust in her, irreparably. She found herself swallowing back a sob at the thought.
And she wasn't through hurting him yet. There was still the matter of returning the ring.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself to speak. Then, "can I have a moment alone with Harry?" she asked. She was relieved to note that her voice only shook a little. "Draco, you need to ask someone where you can pay your fine. It should be somewhere in this building. Go on ahead; I'll catch you up."
He shot her a quick, searching look from his slate-colored eyes; saw her resolve clearly reflected in her dark ones. Giving her a slight nod, he brushed the backs of his fingers gently across her cheek, and pressed his lips briefly to her forehead. Then he was off down the hall with a muttered, "let's go, Weasley."
Ron looked from Hermione to Harry, who hadn't moved an inch through all of this, and back again. The redhead's eyes were troubled, but there was nothing for it and he knew that- Harry and Hermione had to be allowed to hash this out. Sighing, he took off after Draco, catching him easily with his long-legged stride. Hermione watched them until they turned a corner and were gone, walking side-by-side, now, but with as much distance between them as the narrowish corridor would allow. Just watching them go like that was painful to Hermione- the space they kept between; that barrier, that distance- in reality it was no more than a few inches, but within those few inches stretched seven years of enmity, of distrust. Of hate. How would she ever bridge the enormous gap that existed between the love of her life, and her lifelong best friends?
Was it even possible?
She wasn't at all sure that it was. But she would try anyway. She would try with all she was worth.
First, though- Harry. God, what a mess she'd made there.
She swallowed and approached him, made to reach out and touch his shoulder. But Harry, sensing her encroachment on his personal space, turned to face her abruptly, before any contact could be made. His green eyes were dark and unfathomable to her. Not angry or hostile, just… closed off. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and that in itself caused her a fresh pang of sadness; those verdant eyes had always been an open book to her before.
"Harry," she said, her voice little more than a cracked whisper, "I… I just wanted to thank you again, in private. You don't… you can't know what it means to me that-" she paused. Regrouped. "This is the second time you saved me since I walked onto that battlefield, you know," she ventured. This, finally, provoked a reaction in Harry- his brows furrowed, puzzled. Still, he didn't say anything. Merlin, he wasn't making this easy. She reached deep into her pocket- she'd been carrying Harry's ring around every time she'd left the house since the time she'd seen him at the hospital, never knowing when she might stumble upon him again, intent upon returning it at the earliest opportunity; unlike many girls in her position, her honest and meticulous nature demanded that she give it back. When she pulled it out, Harry stiffened. She found it was easier to look down at the ring than up into his eyes as she continued.
She took a deep breath and blurted, "this saved my life. I thought you should know. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but- um- Draco told me later. He said that after I- after the spell was over, and I'd lost consciousness completely-" (Harry made a little hissing sound, just he'd just sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth; Hermione couldn't tell what it was in response to- the mention of the binding spell, or the thought of her, injured and passed out)- "there was a band of Death Eaters moving across the field, killing wounded Order members, and (here her voice trembled a bit) ran-ransacking their bodies. They spotted us. Draco had taken off his hood and he said they recognized his hair from far off. (Harry snorted.) They were making their way toward us, and… there were a lot of them and Draco was already weak from the spell- they would have killed me, Harry, he wouldn't have been able to stand up to all of them. So he transfigured this ring into a portkey, and… and it carried me to safety. It saved my life. Anyway, I just wanted you to know… before I gave it back… how much it meant to me… how much you mean to me… and that I… I'm sorry I hurt you… I'll be sorry until my dying day. But I can't keep this, Harry. So, um… here?" and she held the ring out, offering it to him.
He made no move to take it. In fact, he made no move at all. The still silence stretched between them. Finally, Hermione looked up. Harry was watching her, just watching her, his face as impassive as when she'd approached him. Sighing unhappily, she reached out and clasped one of his hands in hers. He didn't resist. Turning it so his palm faced up, she dropped the ring into it, then covered his hand with her own, gently curling his fingers closed around it. Without another word, blinking hard to keep her threatening tears at bay, she turned away and fled down the corridor.
She only made it a few feet before Harry caught her up, grasping her shoulder from behind; stopping her, turning her. Her eyes flew to his face, and finally she saw something there. He appeared to be struggling against his emotions, but something was getting through at last. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, exactly, but just the fact that something had replaced that blankness was a relief to her. Anything was better than that.
"Hermione," he said, and his voice was hoarse with emotion, "I want you to keep this," and he was pressing the ring back into her hand. She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already talking. "It was a gift, freely given, and it's yours to do with as you will- except return it. It serves me no purpose, and I would never give it away to another- it was made for you. Only you. Believe me when I say I have neither hope nor agenda in doing this… but this ring is yours. And besides-" here he tried a small smile, and nearly, if not quite, succeeded- "if it came in so handy once, who knows? Maybe it will again."
Hermione looked from his face down to the ring. It seemed to sparkle brighter in that moment than it ever had before- and then she realized why. It was the tears, coming at last. The ring doubled, then tripled, a blurry, wavering rainbow. She clenched her hand around it and thrust it back into her pocket. "All right," she choked out. It was all she could manage. She slammed her eyes shut; took one deep breath- another. "Harry… I…" it was no use. She couldn't think of anything else to say. She started to turn away again, but again Harry stopped her, this time gripping her gently but firmly by both shoulders.
"Hermione, listen. I meant what I said in court. I still love you as a friend. This other… thing… is superimposed on top of that, but our friendship- it's still beneath. I want to see you safe and happy, and if Malfoy can really give you that, then… then I suppose you have my blessing. I just… you need to give me time to work this out, though. I think-" his voice turned meditative now- "I think I'm going to travel, actually. Take a leave of absence from Auror training. They're bound to grant it to me, now. See some of the world. Maybe Ron'll come with. Yeah… I think that might be just what I need."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione cried, impulsively throwing her arms around him, overwhelmed with a combination of relief at his words, and guilt at the knowledge that no matter what he said, the real reason he'd be leaving would be to lick his wounds and get over her. And it would take time; she didn't doubt that. It would take time to pick up the pieces of this mess she'd made, and return some semblance of normalcy to their friendship. But at least this was a start.
This was a start.
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They caught up with Ron and Draco in the office where Draco was paying his fine; he was just signing a bank order allowing transfer of the funds directly from his Gringott's account. Hermione stayed with him for the twenty minutes or so it took to complete the transaction, while Ron and Harry wandered down the corridor together. The four of them met up again as Hermione and Draco left the office, (the junior Ministry official who'd collected the fine looking slightly shell-shocked at the number of galleons Draco had just signed away with very little display of regret), and collapsed to regroup on a wooden bench out in the hall.
"Is there anything else you need to do to get your affairs in order?" Ron asked Draco at length, checking the time. It was three-fifteen. Draco, who had leaned his head momentarily back against the wall, opened his eyes and frowned.
"I should see my mother," he said. Hermione, seated beside him, reached for his hand; laced her fingers through his. Ron noticed this, shot a look at Harry. But the dark-haired boy was looking away again.
"Nothing more here in the Ministry building?" Ron asked.
Hermione looked up at that- it seemed an odd sort of question to ask. Her suspicions were further aroused when she saw Harry look sharply up at Ron as well; a brief yet intensely meaningful look passed between her two best friends.
Something was afoot.
"No," Draco said slowly, his frown deepening, puzzled. Obviously he sensed something out of the ordinary as well. "Why?"
"Well," Ron said, suddenly appearing acutely uncomfortable, "it's just that… Harry and I, well, we…"
"We've reserved a Ministry official to marry the two of you this afternoon," Harry broke in abruptly.
Draco and Hermione's jaws fell.
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"Wh…wha…Ron?" Hermione sputtered, unable to compose a coherent sentence, such was the depth of her surprise. "Married…what…here…now…today?" She felt Draco squeeze her hand. He hadn't said anything yet.
"Well… yeah," Ron said, "we went down the hall to arrange it while you two were paying the fine. We think… Harry and I, that is-"
"We think," Harry interjected again, his green eyes narrowed now and leveled steadily on Draco, "that there's no bloody way we're allowing you to just shack up with our best friend for a year. Skeeter would have a field day with it… it would be all over the tabloids, and besides which, it's just not decent-"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, "Skeeter will have a field day no matter what, because marrying me not a month after Pansy died wouldn't be decent either!"
"I could give a rat's ass about Parkinson," Harry growled, "you're the one who's alive; you're the one whose honor I care about! Malfoy says he loves you and he always will- well, let's see him put his money where his mouth is!"
"Harry! I appreciate the thought, but I don't want a marriage that's coerced-"
"No," Draco said with quiet force, quelling Hermione instantly, "Potter's right." He turned to face her fully on the bench- they were still holding hands, and now he caught her other one too, so that both their hands were laced together. "He's right, Hermione," he repeated, looking straight into her wide, still-startled eyes. "We're going to live as a married couple from here on out anyway, thanks to the effects of the spell- why not make it official today? I'm not going to tolerate bloody parasites like that Skeeter bitch dragging your name through the mud anymore than they have already. Let them say what they want about the propriety of my marrying again so soon- I agree with Potter, it's your honor that matters. And besides all the practical reasons, there's this-" and never letting go her hands, he slid from the bench to land on one knee, before her on the floor- "I want you to be my wife. This is not only about making the best of the binding-spell situation; I'd feel the same way if there was no spell. You're the one for me; I should have seen it from the start. I was an idiot, but if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life making that up to you. I need you the way I need water, air and magic; I need you to live. Hermione Granger, will you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife today?"
She didn't answer right away. She just stared at him for a long, long moment, her lips parted in surprise, her eyes enormous. Finally, she gave a tiny, abrupt exhalation- a sort of reverse gasp- and pulled one hand away from him in order to raise it slowly, shaking, to cover her mouth, her fingers splayed up over her nose. Her eyes darted from Draco to Harry, who was looking away again, to Ron, who nodded slightly back at her. Turning back to Draco, she took her hand from her face and reached down to him, grazing her fingertips over his cheek, then up past his temple and finally tangling them lightly in his pale hair.
"I-" she whispered- "are you sure? You want this? You'd want it anyway? Even if things were… different?"
"I've always wanted it," Draco replied with quiet certainty, "ever since that day we spent in Hogsmeade- maybe even earlier than that. I was just too stubborn and too stupid to recognize my feelings for what they were… to admit to them, even to myself. But I want this more than anything, Hermione. Say yes?"
A short pause followed this. Then, "yes," she breathed, "oh, Draco. Yes!"
She barely had time to get the words out before she was engulfed in his arms, one of his hands buried in her hair and pressing her head into his chest with a fierce possessiveness that took her breath away. And it felt so right, Merlin, so right… the rest of the world and all the problems that resided therein; her strained friendships with Harry and Ron, her current unpopularity in the wizarding world, the year of house arrest looming over her head, the question of how she was going to approach her parents after today, to tell them that she had, for all intents and purposes, eloped- with someone other than the man they'd known to be her fiancé… faded in that instant- not vanishing entirely, but receding in size and importance so that they no longer threatened to overwhelm her, but became something more manageable- something she could deal with at a later time, just so long as she had Draco by her side, his arms around her as they were right now.
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The wedding took place three quarters of an hour later, in a small, tasteful chamber designated specifically for civil marriage ceremonies. There had been enough of a time lapse between Hermione's acceptance of Draco's proposal and the event itself for a few key people to be quickly notified; Snape arrived, to stand up for Draco, since Harry and Ron were really Hermione's representatives… and Dumbledore came as well- and not alone, either. Completely unexpectedly, he had in tow one beaming Ginevra Weasley, who carried a garment bag slung over her shoulder, and immediately grasped Hermione by the wrist, pulling her into a small antechamber with fifteen minutes to go before the wedding was to commence.
"Professor Dumbledore came and got me out of class," the redhead said breathlessly, "he said you're getting married today- right now! I brought you something to wear, and hair ornaments too-" she unzipped the garment bag and pulled a deep, forest-green dress robe from within. "They're throwing us a commencement ball this year, since the war is over. Mum sent me this to wear… I think it will suit you too." She held robe up against Hermione for a second, frowning thoughtfully as she took in the color of it against Hermione's skin and hair. Then she nodded. "Yes, this will do nicely. Go on, get into it so I can fix your hair!"
Ginny continued to talk as Hermione dressed, telling her about the festivities that had been abounding at the school, about her own fledgling romance with the Ravenclaw Head Boy, who would be escorting her to the commencement ball, about how all her family members had fared in the battle- Hermione hadn't been aware that Fred had been badly injured; George had carried his twin from the battlefield himself, and had refused to leave his side since. Things had been touch-and-go for a while, but now the mediwizards were predicting a full recovery. "Percy hasn't been to see him once," Ginny sniffed, "though everyone else has been pretty much camping out in his room. It's why Bill and Charley and George didn't attend the trial. And I wasn't allowed to miss classes… otherwise we'd all have been there to support you, Hermione. We all think Percy was way out of line." She turned serious eyes on Hermione. "None of us wanted to see you land in Azkaban, though mum is… well, she's a little disappointed at the turn things have taken, the big wedding canceled and all, and she's… well…" Ginny's voice turned apologetic- "she's rather indignant on Harry's behalf, actually… but she does care for you, Hermione, and she'll come around in time… I think."
She stood back in order to study Hermione, now dressed in the flowing green robe, appraisingly. "Nice," she said, nodding, "very nice. Now sit-" she took Hermione by the shoulders and propelled her toward the nearest chair- "so I can do something with your hair."
A few moments passed in silence as Ginny, now of a legal age to do magic outside of Hogwarts, charmed Hermione's hair into something resembling a wedding-appropriate style; nothing too elaborate, partially up and partially down, and studded all over with the hair ornaments the younger girl had brought- tiny, sparkling jewels; some clear, some deep green to match the robes, held in place by magic, glittering out from Hermione's thick, dark curls.
Finishing, Ginny stepped back and gave Hermione an appreciative once-over. "I knew these things would suit you," she said in satisfaction. "I only hope I'll look half so good at the ball!"
"Ginny, you're beautiful," Hermione smiled back, "outside and in. Thank you so much."
The redhead waved away Hermione's words. "It's nothing," she said, "just- Hermione, tell me honestly and I'll never ask again, I promise- I know that your judgments are usually sterling, but- are you sure you're doing the right thing?"
Hermione lowered the hand-held mirror she'd been using to check her hairstyle- (it was another of the items Ginny had brought with her, for just that purpose, and was engraved, Hermione had noticed, with Molly Weasley's initials)- in order to meet the younger girl's frank gaze head-on. "I'm doing the right thing, Gin," she said quietly, but steadily. "It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make, but it's also the one I'm surest about. It's the right thing."
Ginny nodded; the two embraced; there was a knock on the chamber door; the ceremony was about to commence. Stepping back into the wedding chamber, Hermione glanced around at the small group of staunch supporters who had come to witness the event. Dumbledore, Snape, Ginny of course- Harry and Ron, and standing next to Ron, one arm linked loosely through his, Hannah Abbott- her other would-have-been bridesmaid.
Hermione smiled to see her there, and standing so close to Ron, looking so natural on his arm. This girl was right for the volatile redhead- it was as clear and plain as day. Hermione wondered how she could have missed it back in school when they'd all been prefects together.
Then her eyes met Draco's, and everything else dropped away.
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(A/N: So... there will be one more chapter- well, really more of an epilogue- well, really more of a smutilogue, actually. I'm banking on people wanting to see a little more fluff at the end... and the, er, consummation of this marriage! ;-)
Now, a word about the next project I'm going to be working on; many of you know of Alex25, she's a terrific D/Hr writer on this site, and I know we have many readers/reviewers in common (if you haven't read her work yet, DO!) Well- she and I have started a new pen-name, "Kyra and Alex" (yes, we're wildly creative) and we're going to be co-authoring a story under the new name. I don't know exactly when the first chapter will be up, but it'll be within a few weeks, I think. She's taking the first chapter, I'm taking the second, she's taking the third, and so on. The thing that will make it fun an unusual for both us and the readers is that neither of us know what the other will write until it's done and published on the site. Once I read her first chapter, I'm going to have to pick up the ball and run with it, and wherever I leave the second one, she'll have to do the same... like a game. We're hoping this will keep things interesting for us and the readers. The only thing we've decided on definitely is the pairing (and I suppose in the interest of being fair to you all, I should disclaim that it is not a D/Hr fic; I repeat, NOT a D/Hr fic. It is a het pairing, though; not slash. And it is, of course, a Harry Potter fic.) I really hope, though, that some of you might give it a whirl anyway! So keep an eye out, okay?
Oh, the title of this chapter is a play on the expression "Shotgun Wedding", in which a young woman's male relatives ah… forcefully persuade, shall we say… a reluctant man into marrying her, usually to "make an honest woman" out of her if she's been impregnated out of wedlock. It's not entirely accurate in this case, as Draco was perfectly willing- eager, even- but it had good alliteration and I thought it sounded cute!
A hundred thank-yous to everyone who's read this fic! A thousand thank-yous to anyone who's reviewed! And a million thank-yous to those who've reviewed regularly! Your feedback totally makes my day!)