This one is a bit lighter and more fun than the first one, hope you like it!
This oneshot is based off of the song "It's Got A Ring to it by Voila. Have a listen! Happy Reading!
It's Got a Ring to It
The Great Hall looked exactly as Hermione remembered it. The enchanted ceiling shimmered with twilight, stars twinkling above the floating candles. Five years had passed since the war, but the castle seemed untouched by time, standing as a testament to resilience. The reunion was bustling—laughter and chatter echoed off the stone walls as former classmates mingled, reminiscing about their Hogwarts days.
Hermione sat at one of the long tables, sipping champagne and doing her best to ignore the dull ache of nostalgia. The reunion had been Ginny's idea, and while Hermione had been reluctant to attend, she had to admit it was nice to see familiar faces.
Across the room, a familiar figure caught her eye.
Draco Malfoy leaned casually against the fireplace, dressed impeccably in a dark suit that looked tailored to perfection. A glass of firewhisky dangled from his fingers, and his platinum-blond hair caught the candlelight, glowing like spun silver. He was deep in conversation with Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, but as if sensing her gaze, he turned his head and locked eyes with her.
He smirked—of course, he smirked—and raised his glass in a silent toast.
Hermione's stomach flipped, and she quickly looked away, cursing herself for the warmth creeping into her cheeks.
"Still staring at him?" Ginny's voice cut through her thoughts, amused and slightly smug.
"I am not staring," Hermione said sharply, though her flushed face betrayed her.
Ginny arched a brow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Sure. And I'm Professor Trelawney's biggest fan."
Hermione glared at her friend. "I don't know why I came to this."
"To have fun. And clearly, you're having some." Ginny's grin widened as her eyes flicked back to Malfoy, who had taken a step away from the fireplace.
Before Hermione could respond, a familiar voice interrupted.
"Granger."
She turned to find Draco standing behind her, his smirk firmly in place. Up close, he looked even more unfairly attractive, his sharp features softened slightly by the years but still undeniably Malfoy.
"Malfoy," she replied, keeping her tone neutral.
"Care for a walk?" he asked, tilting his head toward the exit.
Hermione frowned. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because you're bored out of your mind," he said smoothly, his gray eyes glinting with mischief.
"I'm perfectly fine here," she retorted, though she couldn't deny he had a point.
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Come on, Granger. For old times' sake."
Against her better judgment—or perhaps because of it—she stood.
The castle corridors were quieter than Hermione had expected, the sounds of the reunion fading as they walked. Draco led the way, his footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor. They didn't speak, and Hermione found herself oddly grateful for the silence.
When they reached the familiar door of the Room of Requirement, she stopped.
"The Room of Requirement?" she asked, arching a brow.
Draco shrugged. "Seemed appropriate."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Room of Requirement never failed to deliver. Tonight, it had conjured a cozy lounge bathed in warm firelight, its walls adorned with enchanted bookshelves and tapestries that shimmered with movement. Hermione's eyes, however, were fixed on the man across from her.
Draco Malfoy leaned back against the cushions, a glass of wine dangling lazily in his hand as he studied her with that trademark smirk that both irritated and intrigued her.
"Enjoying the reunion so far?" he drawled, his voice like silk, warm and smooth.
"It's been… eventful," she replied, though the flush creeping up her neck wasn't from the wine.
Draco tilted his head, his gaze dropping to the fitted emerald green dress she wore. "Eventful is one way to put it. That dress, however, deserves its own category."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way his words sent a ripple of heat through her. "What category would that be?"
"Dangerous," he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "Very dangerous."
She laughed, unable to stop herself. "Are you blaming your inability to stop staring on my dress?"
He swirled his wine, pretending to consider. "That, and the fact that you're just as captivating as I remember. Maybe even more so."
"Careful, Malfoy," she teased, leaning forward slightly. "You're starting to sound sincere."
"Who says I'm not?" His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else there—something deeper, and it made her breath hitch.
"You're incorrigible," she said, shaking her head as she sipped her wine.
"And you're stunning," he countered, so effortlessly it made her pulse race.
They fell into easy conversation, their usual banter softer now, tinged with something unspoken. As the fire crackled in the background, Draco leaned closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the faint warmth of him.
"Blame it on the wine," he murmured, his voice low. "But I'm feeling particularly brave tonight."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Brave enough for what?"
His gaze dipped to her lips before returning to her eyes. "Brave enough to admit I've been thinking about this moment for years."
Hermione's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "And what moment is that?"
"The one where you stop pretending you don't feel the same way," he said simply, his honesty catching her off guard.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Draco cut her off, his voice dropping even lower. "Just one kiss. Tonight."
Hermione studied him for a moment, her mind racing. But it wasn't just the wine—or the room, or the firelight—that made her lean in. It was the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered.
"Alright, Malfoy," she said softly, her voice laced with challenge. "But just one."
Draco's smirk returned, though it was softer now, almost reverent. "We'll see."
The first touch of his lips was tentative, testing. But when she didn't pull away, Draco deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to her waist as he drew her closer. Hermione responded instinctively, her fingers threading through his hair as she leaned into him, losing herself in the heat of the moment.
"You're not terrible at this," she murmured when they broke apart, her voice breathless.
Draco grinned, his forehead resting against hers. "High praise, coming from you."
"Don't get used to it," she said, though her smile gave her away.
"Too late," he replied, stealing another kiss before she could argue.
This one was slower, more deliberate, and it left her dizzy by the time he pulled away.
"Blame it on that dress," he said, his tone teasing but his expression serious. "Or the wine. But, Hermione, tonight…" He paused, his smirk giving way to something earnest. "You've got me thinking about the rest of our lives."
Hermione blinked, caught completely off guard. "The rest of our lives?"
Draco's lips quirked into a smile. "Why not? Say the word, and we'll skip the awkward goodbyes tomorrow and head straight to the nearest Ministry official. Or Vegas, if you're feeling adventurous."
She laughed, her heart fluttering. "Vegas, Malfoy? Really?"
"You have to admit," he said, his voice dropping into that irresistible drawl, "it has a certain ring to it."
Hermione shook her head, still smiling. "You're impossible."
"And yet," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "you're still here."
"Maybe I like impossible," she admitted softly, her lips curving into a smile.
Draco leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers as he murmured, "Lucky me."
The room seemed to hold its breath as Draco gazed at Hermione, his silver eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
"Vegas, huh?" she said, arching an eyebrow. "You really think I'd go for something as impulsive as that?"
He leaned in closer, their faces barely an inch apart, his breath warm on her skin. "You're telling me you wouldn't be up for something spontaneous? Something… memorable?"
Hermione's heart raced as his words echoed in her mind. He was asking her, but it was more than that. The tension between them, the spark that had always been there, was so palpable now that she couldn't deny it anymore.
"I don't know, Draco…" she started, her voice low, teasing as she tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. His hand slid to the back of her neck, keeping her close.
"Why not? It's Vegas. You could change your name. Your left hand could have a new ring. We could forget everything—school, the war, the past—and just…" He trailed off, his lips curling into that confident smile of his. "You and me, Hermione. What's stopping us?"
For a brief, surreal moment, Hermione imagined it. The idea of a life unplanned, unburdened by the weight of their histories, the assumptions, the expectations. She imagined walking down an aisle in a cheesy Vegas chapel, saying "I do" in front of a neon sign and a bartender-turned-priest. The thought felt oddly freeing.
But she also knew that this wasn't just a casual suggestion. Draco was serious. And—she couldn't believe she was about to say this—so was she.
"Yes," she said, surprising even herself.
Draco's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "Wait, what?"
"I'll do it," she said with a sly smile, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against his. "I'll marry you, in Vegas."
His jaw nearly dropped, his brows shooting up in complete shock. "You're serious?"
"Completely." She stood up, pulling him with her, feeling more alive than she had in years. "Let's go. Right now. Before I think about it too much. No turning back."
Draco's usual self-assurance flickered for a second as he looked around, half-expecting someone to jump out and call it a prank. But when Hermione reached for his hand, tugging him toward the door, his expression softened, and he gave her a grin that could only be described as devilishly delighted.
"You're absolutely mad," he muttered, but his eyes were dancing with excitement. "But I think that's what makes it brilliant."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked together, hand in hand, out of the Room of Requirement and into the empty corridors of Hogwarts. They moved quickly, their steps almost in sync, as if the decision had been made long ago and they were only now catching up with it.
"Vegas," Draco mused aloud, glancing sideways at her. "We'll be there in an hour, tops."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "If we can find a way to get to the nearest portkey, that is."
"Leave that to me," he said with a wink. "I've got connections. You just make sure you're ready to say yes when we get there."
When they finally arrived at the portkey station near the Hogwarts grounds, Draco had already arranged everything. A small, unassuming suitcase sat on the platform, the connection to Vegas activated.
"You really did all this," Hermione said, half-amused and half-impressed, her eyes wide as she looked at the suitcase. "Are we seriously going to do this?"
"Yes," Draco said, looking at her with a mix of affection and anticipation. "You said yes, didn't you? So we're doing it."
Hermione bit her lip, feeling her heart race in anticipation. She wanted to squeal and giggle with excitement, but of course she didn't, she was an adult after all. They could be back within a couple of hours, and everything about this would still be a dream. The suddenness of it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew one thing for sure—whatever this was between them, it was more than she could have ever planned.
She took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline push her forward. "Alright, let's go."
The neon lights of Vegas flashed as they emerged from the portkey, the city's energetic vibe immediately pulling them in. Draco wrapped an arm around her, leading her toward the little chapel nestled on a bustling street corner. The place looked like something out of a movie—cheesy, bright, and oddly charming.
Hermione looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "This is it?"
"This is it," Draco confirmed, his grin practically splitting his face. "The chapel of the stars."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "You're mad."
"You're the one who agreed," Draco said, not looking the least bit concerned.
They stepped inside, where a half-dazed minister stood ready to perform the ceremony. "You two want to get hitched?" he asked with a drawl, clearly a little too used to spontaneous weddings.
~~~~~~~~~~
The air was thick with excitement and the neon lights of the Vegas strip shimmered through the window as Draco and Hermione stood hand in hand, gazing at the simple but intimate wedding venue in the heart of the city. The chapel was quaint, decorated with flickering candles and soft flowers, everything about it a stark contrast to the wild spontaneity of the night.
Hermione's fingers brushed the cool surface of her wedding ring, still in the box, the weight of it finally settling in. She glanced up at Draco, still in shock that they had gotten this far, and he caught her gaze immediately.
"You okay?" Draco asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. He didn't seem to be fazed by their impulsive decision, the glint in his eyes far more amused than nervous. If anything, he looked almost pleased by the surprise of it all.
Hermione chuckled lightly, the last remnants of her hesitation evaporating in the warmth of the moment. "Do you think we'll regret this in the morning?" she asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
Draco's smile deepened, and he stepped a little closer, their shoulders brushing. "You mean, do you think we'll regret this… now? Because I don't. Not at all."
His thumb traced the edge of her hand, a soft, yet purposeful touch that made her heart skip. "It's crazy, I know," he said, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. "But sometimes, crazy feels right. And right now, I can't think of anything I want more than this."
Hermione's lips parted, a million thoughts rushing through her head, but one feeling stood out above the rest. It wasn't fear. It wasn't doubt. It was an overwhelming sense of rightness—that this wild, impulsive decision was the beginning of something bigger, something she couldn't fully explain yet, but knew deep down was meant to be.
"Alright," she said finally, her voice steady but full of warmth. "Let's not think about it. Let's just… go with it."
Draco grinned, stepping back to adjust his tie. "Good answer, Granger." His eyes danced with mischief. "I promise, you won't regret it."
The officiant, who had been quietly standing nearby, cleared his throat, ready to begin the ceremony. Hermione glanced at Draco once more, her fingers gently curling into his.
And in that moment, with the lights of Vegas shining brightly outside and the weight of their decision pressing down on them, they realized that no matter what came next—no matter how unexpected, no matter how crazy—it didn't matter.
Because they were together. And in that togetherness, there was everything they needed.
The ceremony was brief, yet meaningful. As they exchanged vows, their voices barely above whispers, it felt like the world around them faded away.
"I, Draco Malfoy, take you, Hermione Granger…" he began, his usual arrogance replaced by sincerity, his voice steady and warm as it echoed in the small chapel.
"I, Hermione Granger, take you, Draco Malfoy…" she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she looked into his eyes. "For better or worse, in all the crazy that life has to offer."
Their vows felt so simple, but in that moment, they held more weight than any grand, traditional ceremony ever could. They were no longer bound by the past, by expectations, or even the uncertainty of the future. They were here, now, and that was enough.
The officiant smiled, clearly accustomed to quick weddings, and nodded. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
As the words sank in, Draco pulled Hermione into his arms, his lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was everything they needed it to be—passionate, filled with relief, and exhilarating in its newness.
"You're mine now," Draco whispered against her lips, his voice low, teasing, yet filled with a depth she couldn't ignore. "Officially."
Hermione laughed softly, the sound of it ringing out in the tiny chapel like a promise. "I think I'm still trying to figure that out." She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But I think I'm starting to like the sound of it."
Draco chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just wait until you see how good it sounds on the last name part."
Draco pulled her back into his arms, more gently this time, kissing her forehead softly as the world outside continued to buzz. He was right. This wasn't what either of them had planned, but maybe that was what made it so perfect. The wildness, the spontaneity—this was their new beginning.
As they walked down the aisle together, hand in hand, they knew this was only the start of something that would change both of their lives forever. The wedding might have been rushed. It might have been unexpected.
Draco laughed, and for the first time, it wasn't the mocking laugh she'd always known. It was genuine, filled with wonder and amusement. "You have no idea how much I love you right now, Granger."
Hermione smiled, her hand brushing against his chest as they stood there in their impromptu Vegas wedding chapel. "I think I have a pretty good idea."
But it was real.
She sighed and leaned into him as the sun rose above the Vegas strip. Hermione Malfoy. It's got a ring to it.