Chapter Three

Not having any desire to be gawked on her way out of the bar, Hermione crawled through the low set window. It was humiliating, even without anyone there, that she was sneaking out through a window of a bathroom of a pub on what was supposed to be her wedding day. Balancing her hands on the grass, she slowly pulled her legs through, her knees hitting the dirt hard. She stood and dusted her helpless dress off.

Where was she going to stay? She couldn't go back home. Whoever would be looking for her would be going there first. She thought of a hotel for the night, but she didn't have any money. Only her wand - that since the war had never left her side; she slept with it under her pillow, clutched it in her hand.

Draco hated that she felt that insecure with him around but it was impossible to explain that it had nothing to do with him, and anyhow, one night when she was up for a drink she spotted his wand tucked into the frame of his bed, right by his hand. Whether she would ever admit it or not, Draco must have witnessed more terrifying acts than her. After all, Voldemort lived in his house.

Hermione began walking, thinking of where to apparate to. Where she needed to be most. No place seemed safe. Safe from her groom.

Five Days Ago

Hermione didn't speak of the incident between Ron and her. It was shameful, and if Draco knew then there was a real possibility that he would kill Ron, and if there was ever a more inappropraite time to kill him it was then. Ginny would in turn kill Draco because Ron had to be alive for his sister's wedding that Saturday.

In Ginny's old room (that hadn't changed a bit since her school days, even the Holyhead Harpies posters on the wall), Hermione helped Ginny with her dress. It was a simple dress to her knees, with diamond accents around her waist. Hermione zipped her up, and stood back.

"You look beautiful, Gin."

Ginny turned, having took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Luna inspected her from her seat on the bed, wearing the same pale blue dress that Hermione was wearing. Instead of up-doing her hair, she had opted for keeping it down, and for wearing no shoes. "Barefoot would be nicer. I stepped on a gnome's tooth in the garden today. It has beneficial qualities if worn around the neck for seven full moons -"

Hermione slipped out of the room, not hearing the rest of Luna's curious lesson. She went into Percy's old room, which had been cleared to a simple guest room, but for that day, it was where the boys were getting ready. Without knocking she walked in on Harry and Ron.

In his tux, looking more handsome than she had ever seen him, Harry cursed. "Hermione!"

"This is where the men are changing," Ron told her an octave higher than his usual tone but an octave lower than a squeak. "You can't keep barging in like this."

Hermione paid no mind to him, hugging her best friend instead. "You look smart, Harry."

He nodded, looking sickly green in the face. "Um, yeah."

Ron chuckled. "Cold feet?"

"I'll fetch stomach reliever from Mrs. Weasley -"

"No," Harry said quickly, heat coating his cheeks.

Then, strangely enough, Ron's cheeks were crimson too, his eyes on fire. She turned, following his eye line right to Draco. Her heart sped up, as it usually did when she saw him, and she smiled.

Draco, on the other hand, had a definitive frown. He fiddled with his shirt, and he kicked out a leg, not used to the formal muggle attire. She giggled, and he scowled further.

"Funny, Granger. Very funny. This is a riot for you."

"Oh yes," she agreed, but her heart was doing somersaults. He looked very handsome in an odd sort of way. He looked good in the black suit, it changed him dramatically, but only in the most foreign and beautiful way possible.

"What happened to you, Malfoy?" Harry did his best to hide his pleasure.

"He lost a bet," Hermione answered proudly.

Ron looked as if he had been pummeled by twenty bludgers. Quickly, to keep Draco from noticing his peculiar behavior, she led him out.

"Come, lets have Fleur take a picture of us."

"You're bleedin' crazy if you think I'll give you any proof of this!"

To Hermione intense satisfaction, she was able to get a picture of Draco, but it was later at the tables, after the beautiful simple ceremony (where Draco only looked at her during the vows, and she pretended not to notice).

People were mingling and talking and toasting. Harry and Ginny were laughing with Ginny's brothers, Ron's eyes flicking toward Hermione occasionally attempting to gain her attention, but she looked everywhere but at him.

Beside her, Draco was taking lessons from Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire in how to make a swan out of a napkin. His napkin looked like a lopsided hippo.

"Victoire," Hermione said gently, "may I dance with my fiancée?"

"Go ahead," she said tiredly, "he's not getting it."

Draco, taken aback, was about to retort before Hermione tugged him out onto the dance floor. That didn't stop him, in her ear he said, "I was doing splendid."

"Sure you were."

He sighed, and held her close, swaying to the music. "Why does Weasley keep staring at you?"

She ceased dancing. She didn't know what to say, her mouth opened and closed like a fish. Then, there was a tapping on her shoulder.

"May I cut in," Ron asked.

"No," Draco said shortly. "Go away."

"Draco," she chastised softly, not truly meaning it.

Ron took her hand, and she looked away. "One dance."

Draco glimpsed between them. "One." He left, fiddling with his lapel.

Ron swung her around and shuffled his feet. Without her cooperation she realized they must have looked silly. Reluctantly she followed his lead and uncomfortably she set her hands on his shoulders, being careful to keep a width between their bodies.

In a hushed frantic tone, she said, "you are acting like a lunatic, Ron."

"A lunatic?"

"I'm marrying Draco."

"That's a mistake."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it was supposed to be us."

"It's too late for that."

"Not until you say 'I do.'"

"If you loved me, you'd let me live my life with him." She heaved a sigh. Her curiosity to take a sneaking peek at Draco tingled, but she kept her eyes forward on Ron's chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I didn't do it before. I should have done this ages ago."

"You're too late."

"I'll give up when you're married."

That was five days away. What damage could he do in five days that he hadn't already done? "You promise?"

"I promise. You'll just be my friend."

The song was over, there was only the sound of celebrating people. Her hands dropped. "Dance with Luna," she told him, seeing how Luna was gazing at Ron. It was the lightest her eyes had ever been. It was the same look she had when she talked of her adventures in the Alps searching for her fairytale creatures.

Hermione turned to a fuming Draco.

Five more days, and she would have peace.

Presently

Draco was out the door when a cold claw gripped his wrist. He spun to face a girl with coal black hair and deep-set eyes. On cue, he felt ill. If it wasn't before, it was then the worst wedding in the history of Malfoy weddings.

"What are you doing here," he snapped at Pansy.

"Oh, Draco, don't be that way. I came to wish you and your bride congratulations," she said, her words like sap.

"That's a lie, Pansy."

"I'm sorry that it was ruined," she pouted, her bottom lip curled out. He couldn't believe that he kissed that mouth. He was a naive boy, but that was hardly any excuse.

He raised a brow. "Where did she go?"

"Oh. I was surprised to see that she'd leave you that I didn't give it any attention. Like she could do better!"

"She could," he said, and began a brisk walk down the rocky drive.

"You could do better. Do you remember those days we spent together as children? Those were fun times -"

"Listen, Pansy. If you have not noticed, I'm looking for my fiancée."

"She left, Drakey -"

"I told you. Don't call me that."

She pouted again. "You used to like it."

"I hated it then and I hate it now."

Stepping close to him, she ran her manicured hands down his front. "What's so special about her anyway?"

"She's not you."

Gaping, he turned and left her there in her sleek white dress, and curled hair. Her upturned nose reminded him of that pug that Hermione fawned over in the pet shop. He had a good mind to buy that dog after he found Hermione. They could bring her home, give her a rawhide bone, and name her Pansy.

"Draco!"

He ignored her.