Hermione dragged her trunk and bags down the stairs from her prefects' dorm and apparated herself to the Gryffindor common room. She, Harry, and Ron had agreed to meet there before they left Hogwarts.
Ron and Harry were both sitting among their trunks and chatting quietly to fellow 7th year Gryffindors who was also having their last day of school.
"Hey." "Hey." There was a quiet exchange of greetings as they found each other.
"Ready?" asked Harry. Hermione nodded.
"Wait…" Ron said. "Since you're marrying Malfoy today, where are you going to take your luggage? Your parents' place?"
Hermione felt a little hurt at this but didn't blame them. She still hadn't told them what happened to her parents since they were already messed up over her marriage. "I'm apparating it to the Malfoy Manor."
They made surly expressions and looked at each other. Harry said, "Are you sure you don't want us to be there? Are you really marrying him, for sure?"
"Yes, and yes. I am getting married, guys, and you need to learn to accept that."
They sighed heavily and sat back down on their trunks. After waiting for nothing, Hermione spoke up again. "We should go. There's nothing to wait for."
They obediantly said, "Okay." They stood up and apparated their luggage away. They hugged and said good bye and arranged to see each other soon.
They counted to three and closed their eyes so that they can apparate together. Ron was going to the Burrow, Harry was going with him until he got his own place, and Hermione was going to the Manor. "1…2…3!" Hermione opened her eyes and watched them disappear, but didn't disapparate.
She had watched them leave so faithfully together, closing their eyes and believing so faithfully that she was leaving at the same time, but she hadn't done so. She felt a bit guilty, but just walked away to a nearby changing room.
Out of her small pouch, she summoned a dress. Her wedding dress. It was a sleeveless white lace dress, sheer at the shoulders but an opaque creamy white at the rest. It ended at her knees and hugged her figure snuggly. Putting it quickly on, she arranged her hair in a modest up-do and put on some heels.
As she struggled with the buttons on her dress, she felt some hot tears roll down her face. There was no one around, no one to help her. Her parents and best friends were supposed to be there and help and support her at her own wedding, but here she was alone, in a lonely room at Hogwarts struggling with the buttons of her own wedding dress. More tears dropped on her dress, and she watched them spot her dress apathetically.
Wiping her tears hurriedly, she straightened and looked at her pale face with big, wet eyes in the mirror. She didn't even put on any makeup. She swiped her nose with sudden defiance and stormed out, her old clothes abandoned on the floor.
When she came out, Draco was standing there. He wore a dark blue sport coat and grey trousers over a white shirt and thin black tie. He looked elegant and distinguished as he stood as if he were the king. He looked at her with grey eyes and asked, "Ready?" He sounded so much like Harry, but he wasn't concerned about her, he was concerned if she had finished dressing. She choked down a sob as she went over to apparate with him. He unwilling grabbed her bare arm with cold, strong hands and apparated to their marriage site.
He had taken them a little away from a crumbling abandoned church. The surroundings were so colorful, Hermione guessed they were in Ireland. The grass was an emerald green on the endless rolling hills and the sky was a deep blue. Small trees dotted the landscape, and above, a white version of them floated in the sky like a reflection.
There was a low, stone wall that was on either side of the church and didn't seem to stop until the horizon. Yellow flowers were scattered among the green.
They walked up to the church. It looked medieval, with its bell tower without a bell a powdery grey and its mossy stone walls punctured with holes of age. The wooden doors hung wide open and its stained glass windows were shattered. It seemed untouched for centuries, it seemed to be a secret.
They stepped in, the floorboards creaking. The benches were all rotted away or stolen, their absence was quite obvious. Stones and drying bits of grass and flowers littered the floor and an old candle chandelier, never lit in years, still hung from the ceiling. Draco took a bottle of red wine from a little pouch in his coat pocket and transfigured a nearby rock into a wedding chalice.
But was most unsettling was the bare stone altar at the front. It was still there, waiting for someone to use it, covered in moss at some places and worn down on the top. It seemed sad, abandoned, forgotten. Hermione wondered who used it, when it was used.
It was perfect for their marriage.
Draco used to wand and swept up all of the leaves on the ground and lit up the chandelier. He mended the windows and stood up the broken rotting piano in the corner. Although, physically, the church was fixed up, it still seemed forlorn and wistful. No one had been there in a long time.
Draco looked down at Hermione, and she up, and they locked eyes as they held hands and quietly made it up the aisle.
They stopped in front of the altar and faced each other. They stared at each other for a long time. Here they were, this odd but strangely perfect young couple, in a forgotten old church, getting married alone. There were no rings, family, priest, cake, flowers, or celebration. It was just them.
Draco started to speak, his voice strange in this quiet place. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today, to join us in matrimony commended to be honorable among all."
Hermione continued for him softly and solemnly. "And therefore is not to be entered into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Into this - these two persons present now come to be joined."
They looked at each other with wide eyes, and Draco asked Hermione. "Do you take me, Draco Malfoy, to be your loving husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part?"
"I do." Hermione looked at their intertwined hands as she asked him, "Do you take me, Hermione Granger, to be your loving wife, your friend, your faithful partner and your love from this day forward? To be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow?"
Draco said slowly as they completed their vows as if it were a death sentence, "I do." She looked up. The boy's eyes were solemn and unemotional, as if he were on autopilot.
He took the wine and poured a small amount of it into the golden cup and sipped a little bit. He offered it to her, and she took it in small hands. She pressed her lips to the spot were Draco drank from, and tipped the cup until she could taste the wine's bitterness. She placed it back on the altar carefully and turned back to her future husband.
Hermione whispered quickly, "We are now pronounced husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." He bit his lip and quickly pressed Hermione's knuckles to his pale lips.
Draco finished the wedding. "We are now presented as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."