Chapter Eight

"Bloody stupid device - stop beeping!"

Hermione locked herself in the washroom while Draco worked her mobile. She could hear him cursing at the buttons, and out of the corner of her eye she saw herself smile in the mirror.

Stripping off her wet and overdone dress, she stared at herself in the mirror. She was truly a mess. Mascara streaked her cheeks and her hair was bushier and wilder than usual. There was no way that she would look like a proper bride, and she found that she cared very little. Her groom was out there waiting for her, and this time, she would not leave him.

"You're bloody bile is defected," she heard him yell through the crack in the door.

She bit her lip to suppress her laugh. "Mobile, Draco."

"Whatever it is, Hermione, it's not working!"

She opened the door, and his eyes opened wide at the sight of her in her knickers. She snatched the mobile from him and promptly shut the door in his face. Giggling like a schoolgirl, she dialed Ginny.

Somehow, in the midst of all that went horribly wrong, it would be the wedding she always dreamt of.

Three Years Ago

Holding the briefcase above her head did little to help Hermione. It was sideways rain, saturating her new suit to her skin, her hair stringy and clinging to her face and neck. The hasty clicking of her heels on the pavement could not be heard above the sky's commotion.

Her head was full of ideas of how to win the case she was handed and while she normally wrote all of it down, Harry had suggested the bus to clear her head. He told her he solved many of his own cases on it, and she was willing to try. Of course, it had to suddenly downpour while she was on her way to the bus-stop!

Then, her luck laughed at her when she twisted her ankle and fell down into a puddle, her briefcase splashing nearby. She let out a rare curse. Her night couldn't possible get worse! Then, she saw two leather shoes.

"Granger?"

She looked up, and cursed herself for ever thinking that things could not get worse. It was Draco Malfoy.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet, and she expected that stupid smug smirk he'd always wear, but she was apparently in an alternate universe, because Draco Malfoy looked concerned.

That was right, she had heard he changed. He even thanked Harry for keeping him and his family out of Azkaban.

"Malfoy," she greeted, accepting her briefcase from him. She hoped that the papers inside where dry. She would hate to use a spell on every single one of them.

"How are you," he asked awkwardly.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Fantastic."

"I should go."

"Should you?"

"I have a muggle transportation to catch," she said in rude biting tone, hoping that she wouldn't have to actually run after the bus.

"I'll get you home in a much more interesting way."

"No, thank you."

"You haven't heard my proposal."

She sighed, heaving her shoulders into a slump. "What's your proposal, Malfoy?"

"That you have tea with me."

She was stunned. "Malfoy, we don't know each other. I'm a mudblood, remember?"

"I'm not the tosser I used to be, Granger. Get to know me. We'll do it properly this time."

"Why," she yelled over the sound of the distant thunder. "Why now?"

"Because the war is over and I refuse to fight you. Because I want to know you." He shrugged his shoulders, too. "You are either the biggest mistake I've made or the smartest, but not many women can look beautiful in a rainstorm. Mudblood or not."

She found herself laughing. "Maybe I will sometime have tea with you."

"That's all?"

She laughed again, and walked past him toward her bus-stop.

It had been an odd day, a turn in her life that made a tapestry beautiful and complex. She admired him, but most of all she was afraid of him. Not for what he was, but how he could hurt her in different and more awful ways than when they were in school.

Presently

Ginny poked her head into the door as she had earlier that day. "You look a mess, Hermione." She walked in, still in the dress she wore to the failed wedding.

Hermione nodded. "My dress is ruined," she motioned to the dirt streaked dress lying over the sink. She crossed her arms. "It's not a loss - I didn't like it, but... I suppose I have to wear something." Wrinkling her nose, she turned her back to it.

"I have a surprise." From behind her back, Ginny withdrew a lovely white dress. It was platted and went to the knees with a swooping neckline. Hermione gasped her delight.

"Ginny, this is your dress."

"I want you to wear it. You loved it at my wedding."

"But it's yours."

Ginny rolled her eyes, pushing it into her arms. "It's just a dress, Hermione."

Hermione felt a lump in her throat. There was nothing that she could say to express how much her friend's generosity meant to her, so she hugged her tightly.

"Okay, okay," Ginny laughed, pulling away. "Lets see if I can pull off a miracle." She brought out her wand.

After half an hour, Hermione learned that Ginny could indeed pull of miracles. Hermione looked as if she had never cried and walked in the rain. Her hair was sleek, falling over her shoulders, pulled up at the side with a white rose (that had been toilet paper before Ginny transfigured it).

Harry knocked once and entered. He looked Hermione over and breathed. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, and took his arm. She really was ready.

At the end of the short aisle way of red carpet there was her Draco, but instead of the robe he was wearing when she had entered the bathroom, he was wearing a stylish muggle suit. His hand was uncomfortably shifting the tie, until he locked eyes with her, and his hand dropped, his tie left askew.

Harry dropped her arm, and she numbly nodded, standing before her groom. The minister spoke, but she stayed mesmerized by Draco's eyes.

"And do you take him?"

She sighed, her hands squeezing his.

"Please don't change your mind," Draco whispered.

"Never," she whispered back. "I do," she told the minister.

"Then, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may -"

Draco was kissing her furiously, his hands holding her face to his. She smiled against his lips and her heart leapt.

Finally, Draco Malfoy was her husband. It only took them thirteen years.

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews!