A/N: Here is chapter 3.

Le Droit du Seigneur

Chapter III : Unceremoniously

Nobody had ever told Hermione she looked beautiful. That had been for the other girls at school, the ones whose robes were tailored to show off at least a hint of curve. Those were the girls who giggled loudly, who played with the loose strands that broke free from their elaborate hairstyles and winked at boys when the professors weren't looking. Those were the Lavender Browns of the world, girls who never seemed fazed by anything, let alone such trivial things as marriage. Even Hermione's mother had never used the word 'beautiful' to describe her daughter until that very morning. 'Smart', 'intelligent', 'competitive', 'clever', 'kind'… Those were Hermione Granger's words.

The first few times she heard it on her wedding day, it brought a faint rush of heat to her cheeks and lifted the corners of her mouth into a shy smile. Molly Weasley practically screamed it when Hermione emerged into the kitchen in full garb, her mother hovering behind her, still fussing over details.

"Fred, George, don't you have something better to do? I think your father would like some help setting out the chairs."

The twins looked up from where they had been crouching in a corner of the room, whispering to each other about something Fred was holding in his hand. As soon as their mother spoke, Fred quickly slipped the thing into his pocket. Hermione frowned. 'Oh please not today…' Even she found Fred and George Weasley's antics amusing from time to time (as long as no one got hurt), but they couldn't have picked a worst possible time to try to pull something off. She was already nervous enough without having to worry about some kind of explosion going off right in the middle of the ceremony.

"Wow, Hermione. Nice… dress," George said, bowing deeply in her direction. Hermione had the distinct impression he'd been about to say something else.

"Delightful! Radiant!" added Fred, joining his brother.

"Magnificent! Regal, even!" George cut in, bowing so low his forehead was almost touching his knees.

"Boys! Out, now!" Molly snapped.

"Can't we compliment our darling sister-in-law?"

"George is right. Ron should get married more often, we don't get such lovely beauties wondering around the house nearly enough."

"Hey!" said Ginny, Ron's younger sister, as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing golden gown that matched the trimmings on Hermione's sleeves and hem, and her hair had been done up in a lovely plaited bun. She looked older and more confident than she had in school, and Hermione found herself worrying about the number of eligible young men that might start pestering her at the banquet later on.

"Sorry Gin, I said 'sister-in-law'. You're our actual sister, you don't count. Quaint dress, though."

"I said, OUT!"

Grinning at Hermione one last time, the boys walked out of the room backwards, bowing as deeply and often as they could, bumping into each other and various pieces of furniture along the way. With a flick of the family wand, Molly closed the door behind them with a loud bang.

"They're right, though," said Ginny, staring at Hermione in admiration. "You look absolutely beautiful."

At least this was sincere, and Hermione returned Ginny's smile. She'd chosen Ron's sister as her bridesmaid not only because she thought it would please her new family, but because she genuinely liked the younger girl. Ginny had just finished Hogwarts and to Hermione's delight, was in the process of enquiring about a job at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. If she was successful, she would work as an assistant for several years while training to become a full-time Healer. Ron had once said he thought it was ridiculous for his baby sister to even consider such a long-winded career, but Hermione's glare had soon caused the words to die in his mouth. He was a kind-hearted boy, but she found him a little old-fashioned in his views sometimes. All she could hope for now was that they could overcome their differences in time, or at the very least agree to disagree without stepping on each other's feelings too much.

"Thank you… You don't think it's a bit much?"

"It's your wedding day. Of course it's not too much," Ginny said with a grin. "The fabric looks so soft…"

Hermione held her arm out so Ginny could touch the sleeve, while Molly joined Rose in fussing over her hair. 'This is it', thought Hermione. 'There's no more hiding now, no going back…' Even if she had felt capable of putting her foot down and asking for a reprieve, for a little more time to gather her thoughts and feelings into something that made sense, she couldn't bear to think of the disappointment she would cause among the Weasley family. They might be eager for a new wand in the family, but she had no doubt that they were equally happy about gaining a daughter. Ginny was the only girl out of Molly and Arthur's seven children and Hermione had heard Molly complain enough about the noise and the mess that came from having so many men in the house. While Hermione and Ron would only be living at the Burrow for a short time until they could find a house of their own, it would be a completely different kind of life for Hermione, who was an only child. No more parents fussing over her at every turn. She would have to find her own place in the Weasley family and guard it firmly. She could only hope she didn't become overwhelmed too quickly.

"How is everything coming along outside?" she asked. She hadn't dared do more than steal glances out of windows throughout the morning, lest Ron catch a glimpse of her before he should. While she had seen the large white tent and the beginning of the deep red carpet that led into it, the rest she could only guess at.

"Just fine, my dear. You have half-an-hour until the guests are shown to their seats. Don't worry about anything; Arthur's doing a great job out there. I promise you won't be disappointed."

Molly had tried to consult her on more than one occasion about the tent decorations and the food and the seating arrangements, but Hermione's mind had gone blank every time and she'd merely shrugged and smiled. She had no idea what she wanted, or even what was currently in fashion for weddings, and her future mother-in-law seemed to have plenty of ideas, so Hermione had just been happy to let her get on with it. Besides, she was hoping she would be too distracted by the discovery of her wedding venue to pay much attention to her nerves.

Hermione picked up a golden pocket watch that was lying on the table. It was half past twelve. Molly had decided that an early wedding would be best, followed by lunch. There would be some dancing in the afternoon (Hermione had overheard Charlie Weasley talking about enchanting the roof of the tent to look like the night's sky, just like it was in the Great Hall at Hogwarts), as well as light refreshments for those who were still hungry, and then Hermione and Ron would leave on their honeymoon just before sunset. This, Hermione had also let Ron organise, and the excitement in his eyes whenever the subject was mentioned was beginning to worry her. What if he tried to take her on some grand adventure to the Egyptian Pyramids or something? All she wanted was a quiet week somewhere warm, possibly by the sea, where she could come to terms with what was happening and spend some time getting to know her husband a little more intimately. Running around Hogwarts and getting into trouble had brought them close, but Hermione had no doubt she still had a lot to learn about the man who would become her sole provider and protector in just under an hour. Would he be different from the slightly insensitive but equally funny and loyal friend she had grown fond of? Would he stop trying to make her laugh when they were married? She hoped not, even if his jokes did make her cringe and slap his arm more often than not.

For the next twenty minutes, Hermione tried to help Molly, Ginny and her mother with the final preparations, but was told to sit and relax so many times that in the end she gave up, retreating to a corner with one of the books she'd brought with her. Most of her things were still at her parents' house and would stay there until she and Ron found somewhere to live. There just wasn't room at the Burrow for all of her books and magical equipment that Hermione had kept from her time at Hogwarts. She was sure most of the other students in her year had shut away their tools and manuals in trunk somewhere as soon as they had left school, but Hermione made sure she tried making new potions and casting new spells as often as possible, just to keep her mind sharp and her magic in use. Having a wand helped, of course, but she was certain even people like Draco Malfoy, who had probably owned a wand since before he could walk, no longer practiced. The fear of becoming complacent, of her senses dulling one by one, drove Hermione to push herself whenever possible.

At ten to one, Rose went to fetch the velvet-lined wooden box with Hermione's wand in it. Hermione took it from her mother with a slight flutter of frustration. She had worked so hard to earn this wand. While Muggle brides carried bouquets up the aisle, she would be carrying the one thing most capable of giving her independence and power.

"He'll take good care of it, you know," Molly said as she saw Hermione looking at the wand. "Chances are he'll just let you keep it unless he needs to use it. I'm sure he won't make you ask for it. Arthur never does."

Hermione nodded, ashamed that Molly had guessed her thoughts. This was how witches had always lived unless their families were made of money. Although she had been given a wand for academic merit, Hermione knew she shouldn't expect the other witches and wizards to treat her differently. Being Muggleborn made these differences harder to accept, but she just needed a little adjustment. By the time she'd been married for a year or two, she probably wouldn't think of it as strange at all.

"Almost time," Ginny whispered, pulling back a curtain to peek outside. "What is Lavender wearing?"

Feeling a nervous giggle start to build in her throat, Hermione quickly filled a cup with some water from the jug in the corner and gulped it down. Lavender's wardrobe was extravagant on most days, but she was known to wear particularly outrageous outfits during celebrations and certain public events. Hermione only hoped the Gryffindor girl would not be sitting in her line of vision during the ceremony, lest she cause Hermione to burst out laughing in the middle of it.

"What are the colours this time?" she asked, not daring to approach the window.

"Dark blue and bright orange… really bright… I didn't think you could have fabric that bright."

"Must have dyed it with a spell," Hermione muttered. Lavender only ever seemed to borrow her husband's wand when she needed to improve her appearance.

"She told me she's paying a tribute to Weasley ginger," said a voice from the doorway.

The girls turned with a gasp, while Molly waved her arms about. Harry, looking very handsome in deep grey robes, ignored her. He grinned at Hermione.

"OUT! What do you boys not understand about giving the bride some privacy?" Molly scowled, Rose nodding alongside her.

"The bride is my friend. I felt like making sure everything was alright for her," Harry replied with a shrug.

"It's fine. I want him here." Hermione smiled at her best friend of eight years. "A tribute to Weasley ginger? Did I hear that right?"

"Yes, she seems very proud of herself… but I think she must have given Fred and George a bad idea because they went running off the moment she said it. I wouldn't be surprised if they managed to colour their hair to match her dress."

"Well it's lucky Molly has the family wand, isn't it?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Why was everyone trying to turn her wedding into some sort of mockery?

"Don't get your hopes up," Molly said, tucking the aforementioned wand inside her robes. "They always find other ways. Rose, why don't you come with me to see if everyone has found their seat?"

The two mothers left arm in arm, and Hermione found herself smiling despite it all. At least their two families got on well, which was more than a lot of married people could say. Her mother couldn't stand her own parents-in-law and Hermione had only met her paternal grand-parents a handful of times and she had to agree that they were rather stiff and sour. She doubted they even knew she was getting married. That was the problem with being Muggleborn. She couldn't invite any of her extended family, lest they be exposed to too much magic and become suspicious. How could she explain to them what giving up a stick of wood might mean to her and her future husband? They would just be confused, and the wizards and witches attending the party would feel frustrated at having to hide their powers as much as possible. It was probably best that way, though Hermione felt a little sad that her family was so underrepresented.

"So, this is it," said Harry, turning to her.

Ginny hovered near him, glancing every so often at the bulk of his shoulders beneath his dress robes. Hermione bit back a smile. Ginny had had feelings for Harry for a long time now, but he'd been too busy running around getting into trouble to notice. 'If this wedding has to serve at least one purpose,' she found herself wishing, 'let it be that these two find each other at last.' Harry deserved to be happy, especially with the Dark Lord and his circle of followers on the rise. Hermione knew that difficult times lay ahead of them all and the idea that her wedding might bring people joy and respite from the mounting tension in the wizarding world eased her nerves a little.

"This is it," she whispered, not quite trusting her voice.

"He is going to keep you safe, you know… This might not be what you always dreamed of, but I think you can be happy together, Hermione."

Closing her eyes, Hermione tried not to let any tears escape as Harry pulled her into a hug. How could he always read her so well, when Ron couldn't? They had never spoken about her feelings for Ron, but somehow Harry knew she had been expecting something else from life, something… more. And yet, just like everyone else, he was encouraging her to embrace it. Hermione didn't know what to make of this. Were her friends and family trying to shut her into a well-defined box? Or did they know something she didn't? What did everyone seem to think that marrying Ron was the best thing for her? Perhaps, just like her, they were too afraid to contemplate the fact that she might be making a mistake. Perhaps, in their eyes, safety trumped over happiness. What about her? She didn't even know what to think anymore. Tears gone, Hermione pulled away and looked up at her friend.

"Only time will tell," she heard herself say.

"My brother may be a bit of an idiot sometimes," Ginny said, leaning even closer to Harry, "but he's a nice idiot."

Hermione nodded, eager to end the conversation. What would Ginny think of her if she didn't manage to find happiness with Ron? Would the younger girl think Hermione didn't love her new family either if she couldn't love her husband? Just then, the door opened and Rose stuck her head in, a big grin on her face.

"Everybody's in place. Your father's waiting, Hermione."

Clutching the box with her wand, Hermione followed Harry and Ginny out of the kitchen and into the hallway leading to the back door of the Burrow. She could hear people talking outside and the faint sound of music gently floating through the air. Her mother, Harry and Ginny all smiled at her before stepping out into the warm summer noon. Somewhere in the tent, she could hear Albus Dumbledore's deep, reassuring voice. She had never expected him to agree when she and Ron had asked him to officiate the ceremony, but the twinkle in his blue eyes had given them their answer even before he had spoken. Taking a deep breath, Hermione left the confines of the house. The sunlight outside was almost blinding and she was glad the ceremony would be held inside the tent. She didn't think she could stand for more than ten minutes in the glare without collapsing.

"You look lovely, Hermione."

Blinking, she looked to her left to find her father standing by her side. He was wearing a traditional Muggle suit, the same one he always wore to important functions and events, and she found herself smiling at the familiarity of it. She might be joining a family of wizards and embracing a whole new set of traditions and customs, but at least her parents would never change, she could count on that.

"Ready?" he asked, looking a little nervous himself.

She nodded. Arm in arm, they set off towards the beginning of the long red carpet that led into the tent, taking their time as the hum from the guests quietened and the music grew louder. Hermione recognised the piece; it was by a Muggle composer she liked. She wondered if Ron had requested it, or if it was her mother's suggestion. Probably the latter, as Ron didn't usually pay much attention to music unless the lyrics were loud and lewd. By the time she had reached the entrance to the tent, her heart was beating fast inside her chest and the heat was beginning to bother her. She looked at the rows of seats on either side of the carpet, the smiling faces turned towards her, mouths whispering and fingers pointing at her dress and hair. Hermione had been the centre of attention before, but only due to her brains, not her looks. This was a different sensation entirely, one she wasn't sure she liked. She felt like a novel form of entertainment, the audience grappling to enjoy a piece of it while they could.

Every step brought her closer to the dais at the end of the tent, and yet it was only at the last minute that Hermione thought to look ahead of her at the man waiting for her there. Ron was dressed in elegant white dress robes that matched hers and made his hair stand out in a flattering way. She noted with relief that no one had dyed it bright orange to match Lavender's dress, which she'd caught a horrified glimpse of out of the corner of her eye. His hands were clasped in front of him and he looked every bit as nervous as she felt. The tightness in Hermione's chest eased a little. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. After all, neither of them knew what they were getting themselves into. Perhaps they could learn together? Ron smiled at her and she found herself smiling back with ease. He was her best friend. How hard could this be?

"Welcome, friends and family, to the wedding of Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Bilius Weasley," said Albus Dumbledore as Hermione came to a halt beside Ron. Their former headmaster, wearing a deep blue velvet robe studded with faintly glowing stars, was standing behind a golden lectern with his arms spread wide. He winked at Hermione as she looked at him. "Today, we are celebrating a union of mind and spirit, body and soul, between this young witch and this young wizard. Please stand."

Hermione heard the scraping of chairs behind her. This was it, she realised, not for the first time that day. She was in the middle of her own wedding ceremony. There was no way of going back without embarrassing herself, Ron and both their families for eternity. The only way lay forwards. Hermione squared her shoulders a little, clutching her box with both hands.

"Today, you will both enter into a magically binding agreement that will seal your commitment to each other. You will create a new family of your own and, one day, bear children who will carry your magic in their blood. The furthering of magical bloodlines is a noble cause, as you both know, but so is the gift and acceptance of love. It is perhaps the highest, most noble cause of all. You will be expected to honour it every day of your lives together."

Hermione bowed her head, and saw Ron doing the same out of the corner of her eye. There was a gap between them, a thin pillar of air that would soon be breached when they were told to hold hands for their binding. But first, she knew she had something else to do.

"Hermione Jean Granger, I understand that you possess your own wand?"

Trying not to frown, Hermione said "I do." She knew he had to ask her, but it seemed ridiculous when he was the one who had given her the wand in the first place.

"In accordance with wizard law, you must pass it on to your husband, who will become its keeper. Do you accept?"

"I do," Hermione said, as lightly as she could. Turning towards Ron, she held the box out to him. He smiled at her and placed his fingers over hers. They felt warm, comforting almost.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you will now become keeper of your own family wand. Do you promise to protect it and care for it?"

"I do."

"Do you also promise to allow Hermione Jean Granger, your wife, to use this wand whenever she desires, as long as her intent to perform magic does not endanger your family or the wizarding world in general?"

I do," Ron said, while Hermione tried hard to contain her irritation. What did they expect? That she would go running around spurting multicoloured bubbles out of the wand with Muggles nearby? Surely wizards were just as much at risk, if not more, of exposing the wizarding world due to miscast or careless spells as their wives? Biting her lower lip, she let go of the box and watched as Ron placed it inside his robes. The feeling of longing was already inside her, her fingers itching to wrap themselves around the handle again. How would she bear it?

"Now, unless anyone has any objections, I invite our young couple to join hands for the binding ceremony-"

"Not so fast!"

Never in a million years had Hermione expected to hear those words at her own wedding. They seemed so out of place that she had already started to extend her hand towards Ron before she turned to see who had spoken. The sunlight shining in the entrance to the tent made it hard to see, causing her to squint. Someone was silhouetted there, someone whose voice was all-too familiar, even if she hadn't heard for the past year.

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, invoke the ancient tomes governing wizarding property and tax that were set down in writing in 1156 and have been in vigour ever since."

"What the hell?" Ron shouted as Harry grabbed hold of him. Hermione glanced at Dumbledore, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously.

"Watch what you're going to say, boy," the old wizard growled. "Do not invoke the old laws unless you have a clear understanding of that which you speak of."

Stepping forward into the shade of the tent, Draco Malfoy held up what looked like an extremely ancient book covered in leather and studded with gemstones. Under different circumstances, Hermione knew she would have been itching to touch it, to open it and discover its contents. At the moment, however, she could only stand and blink in confusion as her old arch-nemesis came to stand in front of her with a gleeful grin.

"According to article 3823 of the Wizarding Code of Law and Property: "a Lord Wizard is entitled to the first bedding of any witch resident, or any witch set to marry a wizard who is resident, of that Lord Wizard's own lands. He is allowed to detain the witch at his pleasure for a total of three days before he must return her to her family or husband. If her husband or family do not accept her back, the Lord Wizard has the duty to provide the witch with food and board, as well as pay suitable reparation to her family or husband. This payment may take the form of an ox or a pair of goats, or a book of minor spells if the witch's family is of some standing in society. Once payment has been accepted, the Lord Wizard's right to the witch is sealed. She will thenceforth be considered a member of his household, and treated as such both by the Lord Wizard and the wizarding authorities in government." There you have it."

What had started out all around Hermione as startled murmurs now grew into angry shouts. Guests were still standing, some red in the face, cursing Malfoy where he stood. Ron was still being held back by Harry, who looked like he was barely containing himself as well. In the corner next to her, her father had gathered her mother in his arms. Hermione couldn't look at them. What had she brought them into? What was this society that she understood so little of? Why hadn't she heard of these rules before? Immediately, her thoughts turned to Fred and George. Were they behind this? But even as she contemplated it, she realised it couldn't possibly be true. Fred and George hated Malfoy as much as the rest of them. There was no conceivable way they would do this to her on her wedding day. That could only mean…

"Is this true?" Ron snapped, turning to Dumbledore. "Is what he's saying actually true?"

Dumbledore's mouth had shrunk to a thin line. He looked only at Malfoy, who as still smirking, book open in his hands. Only then did Hermione notice the woman standing behind him with an equally unpleasant smile on her face. Bellatrix Lestrange, hater of Mudbloods and personal favourite of Lord Voldemort. Although she had never met the woman before, she had heard rumours of her fanatical views and sadistic tendencies. The sight of her standing by Draco, looking so mug and sure of herself, made Hermione shiver.

"Do you have papers that prove the lands the Burrow is built on belong to the Malfoy family?"

"I do," said Draco in a sleek voice, almost a parody of the vows Ron and herself had been saying just a few short moments before. Dumbledore's jaw clenched.

"Arthur, can you confirm that you pay annual land taxes to the Malfoy family?"

Hermione looked at her almost-father-in-law. There were tears at the corner of his eyes and Molly was talking to him rapidly in a low voice, pressing his hand in hers. Hermione thought she could make out the words "don't do it", but she couldn't be sure.

"I can confirm that, yes," said Arthur finally with a heavy sigh. "It doesn't give him the right to do this though. She doesn't even live here yet, officially."

"Unfortunately, it does. Hermione is very clearly set to marry your son and so, according to the law, he has every right to claim her. I'm sorry…"

"But this is completely antiquated! It's barbaric!" The words poured forth from Hermione's mouth before she could stop herself. How she wished she hadn't given Ron her wand. She tried to look at him, to signal that he hand it back, but he was staring at his feet, seething. Fists clenched, she turned towards Malfoy. "This is ridiculous. He's not even Lord of Malfoy Manor. His father is."

Hermione thought she saw Draco's smile fade a little, but Bellatrix leapt forward and draped her arm around her nephew's shoulders. "Actually," she drawled, "he is Lucius Malfoy's sole heir, which makes him acting Lord of Malfoy Manor whenever his father is absent. Is that not so, Albus?"

The old wizard bowed his head. Somewhere to her right, Hermione's mother fainted, her husband barely catching her before she hit the ground. Beside her, Hermione could hear Ron muttering under his breath, eyes still fixed on the floor. Harry's gaze, however, was on her. Full of pain, of regret, of powerlessness. As if there was nothing left to do but watch her disappear into the sunset. Hermione took a step back.

"If you think I'm going to come quietly…"

"But you don't have a wand, now, do you? And any resistance on your behalf would constitute a serious breach of wizarding law. As you are Muggleborn, if you rebel against our customs, you will be stripped of your powers and have a memory spell placed on you. You will never be able to perform magic again. You won't even know magic exists," said Draco, walking towards her. "Seems a small price to pay in comparison to what you would lose, doesn't it?"

Before Hermione could protest or break into a run, Draco pulled out his wand and uttered the words of the full-body bind curse. Hermione felt a scream die in her throat as she fell forward into his arms and was hoisted over his shoulder as effortlessly as a sack of brain. As he turned to walk away, all she could do was listen to the horrified murmurs of the people she loved, their faint sobbing and muttered curses, and wonder what was going to happen to her.

"Come and see me in three days, Weasley. We'll see if you still want her then."

A/N: … and that's it, folks. Hope you enjoyed it, please leave me a review if you did!