Chapter Text
She didn’t want to be there.
She wanted to be anywhere else.
But it didn’t matter.
Harry had all but tied her up to go. Hermione didn’t know when or how Harry had gotten so close with Draco Malfoy. Something about saving his life during one of their missions as Aurors.
Boys.
Even Ron seemed to get along with him.
But he wasn’t there for Malfoy or Harry. He was there for his new fiancé, Lavendar Brown. She wanted to be at the most anticipated wizarding event of the year and she was not going to give up the opportunity to attend and show off that she had finally gotten her man.
It didn’t matter that it happened while Hermione and Ron had officially been dating. It hadn’t mattered that after sleeping with Lavendar, Ron had made his way to Hermione’s bed, curled up next to her and whispered that he loved her.
None of it mattered because in the eyes of the wizarding community, it was Hermione’s fault. It was her fault that Ron had left her for another woman.
Because she was too cold. Demanding. Loud.
It didn’t matter that she was those things because of what she had seen during the war. A war she was a part of when she was merely a child.
Nope.
It didn’t matter that she was demanding and loud, fighting for the rights of muggleborns and magical creatures.
Nope.
Gods she was sick of it.
Hermione had already decided that this would be the last event anyone would see her in the wizarding world. Odd that it would be Draco Malfoy’s wedding.
Oh well.
Even in the muggle world, Hermione didn't have much. With her parents’ memories back, their relationship was strained. That was putting it lightly, really it was practically non-existent. Her Mother, who generally was the easier parent, had a hard time coming to terms with what she had done. When Hermione tried to talk to her Mother, all she got was a flat, patchy conversation.
How was your day?
Fine.
Mom, do you want to come with me to the store?
No.
Mom, I started reading this really good book.
Hmm.
It was even worse with her Father. He barely even glanced at her when she tried to talk with him. At dinners, they barely spoke with each other. A harsh contrast to the warm and joyful dinners she had had as a child.
At first Hermione was understanding. She had betrayed their trust. She had messed with their heads – literally.
But over time, after trying and failing to make them understand why she did what she did, Hermione started to get angry. Couldn’t they see that she regretted it? Couldn’t they see that she didn’t want to do it? Couldn't they see that she had to fight in a war all before she graduated.
And Hermione was simply so tired. It had been years now of her parents having their memories back. It didn’t matter what she did, they didn’t really seem to care. Hermione should have seen this coming when they decided to stay in Australia instead of moving back to the UK to be closer to their one daughter.
Hermione let out a large sigh.
Harry sent a concerned look from his seat, which Hermione ignored.
He knew how fed up with everything she was.
She was so goddamn tired.
It was time to leave.
Hermione had already purchased a small bookstore nearby with the money she was given after the war. She would live, eat and breathe there until she decided what to do next. Perhaps she wouldn’t do anything and she would live and die there. It didn’t matter anyway.
She was done with the wizarding world. She was done with her so-called friends that had helped Ron hide his cheating. She was done with her unforgiving parents.
Done. Done. Done.
The word marched in her head like a drum as she sat at the bar waiting for the wedding to start. She distracted herself by starting the variety of flowers. It really, truly was a beautiful wedding venue.
Set on the coast of France, the sun shone brightly over a large patch of grass overlooking the blue sea. The air smelled fresh and fragrant with multiple beautiful arrangements of roses and other flowers Hermione did not know the names of.
White and blush pink seemed to be the colour theme.
Row and after row of white chairs were lined up for guests to be seated for the ceremony. All the chairs faced a large arch adorned with pale pink roses and white silk for the groom and bride to stand under and recite their vows. In the center of the rows, down the aisle, a satin white strip was riddled with pink rose petals. Twinkling lights sparkled around the edges of the venue, sure to be bright once the sun had set.
It was a little off the mark for Malfoy, Hermione mused, sipping on her rum and coke. Hermione imagined a Malfoy marriage to be indoors with money dripping from every possible place. This must be Astoria’s dream wedding, not Malfoy’s.
“’Mione.”
Hermione stiffened at the child-like nickname.
She turned to find Ron and Lavendar standing side-by-side, each clutching a drink.
Harry had turned an alarmingly red and purple once he noticed them. Ginny clutched his arm and whispered quickly and sharply into his ear.
“Ron. Lavendar.” Hermione didn’t recognize her own voice.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter anymore.
She didn’t care.
She was leaving anyway.
Ron gave her a small smile. He probably thought that this was her giving him permission to sit beside her, because before she could say anything, he took the seat next to her.
Hermione quickly whipped her head forward, seething.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter anymore.
She didn’t care.
She was leaving anyway.
Hermione continued to repeat the mantra in her head. Harry had reached a hand out on to her, that she ignored.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Hermione." Lavendar said, her hands cupping her cheeks as she leaned her elbows on the table.
"Really?" Hermione said, lazily. "Why?"
Lavendar pulled back slightly. "Well, you know... with everything.."
Hermione sipped her drink. "What do you mean?"
Say it.
Say what you did.
"Lav' let's not start," Ron said, patting her hand.
Hermione stood and walked toward the bar to order another drink.
Draco Malfoy stood nearby, accompanied by Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Hermione couldn’t help but note how handsome he looked in his wedding robes. The dark navy blue robes complemented beautifully with his steel grey eyes, stark blonde hair and pale skin. It was cut to fit, and damned did he look fit.
He chatted lightly with his friends, smiling even and showcasing his dimples. His gaze drifted over the large crowd and Hermione could see him take a breath in.
His eyes stopped on hers and he stilted slightly. Hermione gave a small, and hopefully, reassuring smile. She was there not to make a scene, but to be happy for him.
He had apologized, years ago. Hermione had only recently sent him a letter back, stating that she had forgiven him. They had not spoken since.
Malfoy gave a small nod in response and turned back to his friends.
Hermione held her drink in her hand, taking small sips.
“Hermione, dear.”
Hermione looked up to see Narcissa standing close by. She stood regal in lavender robes, complimenting her skin and hair beautifully. Both Mother and son were quite the sight.
“Ms. Malfoy. Congratulations on your son’s wedding. And thank you again for the invitation.”
It was Narcissa who had given Hermione the wedding invitation. She had invited her to tea and stated that she wanted to personally give her the envelope. Not that Hermione had accepted it. She adamantly declined attending, no matter how much the Malfoy matriarch tried. It was only when Harry all but blackmailed her into going that she agreed to go. Something told her Narcissa may have planted the seed into Harry's head. Not that Hermione minded. This would be an excellent last even to attend before she left the wizarding world for good.
She would, however, miss the friendship Narcissa and her had developed over the past few years.
Narcissa had originally approached Hermione to thank her for testifying for her and Draco, but had found her stressed and nearing tears over bundles of parchment. Hermione had come into problems finding funding and maneuvering government pot holes. It was Narcissa who had lent a hand.
Not without a mutual benefit, of course.
The Malfoy name had taken quite a bad hit after the war and Narcissa, while Draco served his one year in Azkaban, had taken up the task to restore it to its’ original glory for Draco to take once he was released. Hermione knew that being seen with the Malfoy matriarch would ease the public's opinion on the pureblood family. Not to mention, it did not hurt one bit for the name to be associated with the many charity galas and ceremonies for underfunded magical creatures.
“Please, Hermione, call me Narcissa.”
Hermione simply smiled and nodded. Her parents had ingrained in her to never refer to her elders with their first name.
“Thank you for coming. I wanted to stop by and tell you how beautiful you looked.” Narcissa said.
Hermione and Narcissa shared a secret smile. It was her who had taken her one Sunday afternoon to find the gorgeous emerald green gown that now hugged her.
A swell of music started, indicating the beginning of the ceremony.
“Duty calls.” Narcissa smiled. “Find me after the ceremony?”
Hermione nodded agreeably. She’d hope that Narcissa would not be too disappointed in her once she packed up and left. Hermione made a mental note to ensure she wrote a long letter for the woman.
She made her way down the aisle to find Harry and Ginny. She sat beside Harry, hoping that Ron and Lavendar would not sit beside her.
She was wrong.
Ron annoyingly leaned toward Hermione, breathing deeply, muttered that she looked beautiful. Hermione couldn’t help the sneer that developed on her face. She gave a reluctant nod and turned to face the front.
Malfoy stood under the arch along side the officiant with the setting sun in the back. Hermione felt a pang of jealously. It was going to be a beautiful wedding.
Would she ever get the chance to get married? Would she even get the chance to lose her virginity?
Hermione thanked Merlin she never gave into Ron’s pressure.
“You never dressed like that when we were dating.” Ron mumbled.
Hermione sighed again, forcing her hands into fists.
It didn’t matter.
She didn’t care.
She was leaving anyway.
Hermione had to admit that yes, this dress was something out of the ordinary for her. The deep emerald green off the shoulder dress showcased much more skin than she had in the past. It definitely could be considered scandalous with the way it pushed her breasts up and the thigh slit showed her leg. However, despite her concerns, she had purchased it under the guidance of both Narcissa and Ginny.
Still.
For Ron to have mentioned it after always commenting on her body being too 'plump' made Hermione furious. For years it had made Hermione too self conscious to wear anything that showed skin, hoping that she could somehow get her body back to how it was before.
Harry gave another concerned look before glancing away.
The music picked up pace and became louder.
“A-a-re you seeing anyone?” Ron asked nervously.
The audacity.
Hermione sat still. Maybe, just maybe if she didn’t move Ron would get the message. She didn’t trust herself to move or say anything.
Ron slid his hand over top of her fist. It was moist and almost sticky.
Hermione quickly jerked her hand away and glared at him.
“Ronald.” Hermione said in warning.
Ron did not get the message. He gave her a small smile.
The music was louder still.
Hermione huffed. It was okay. The ceremony only lasts a few minutes anyway from what she could recall from Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It would be fine.
Hermione glanced at Malfoy, who stood tall. His face remained blank, however, his body seemed rigid with…anxiety? Hermione shifted her gaze over to Narcissa. Her face, to anyone else, would be calm. But Hermione knew it was not. Her lips were pursed ever so slightly with a delicate pinch on her forehead.
The music continued to play, the orchestra sending confused looks at each other. Blaise and Theo glanced at each other, concerned.
The crowd began to murmur, sending glances over to the back.
What was going on?
Where was the bride?
The man standing beside Malfoy glanced at his watch and gave Malfoy a look. Malfoy continued to face the aisle, his body still but his eyes darting nervously between Narcissa and the aisle.
Narcissa raised her hand and brushed all her hair to her back.
Hermione inhaled sharply.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Ron turned to look at her and again tried to place his hand on hers. She jerked away and focused back on Narcissa.
Where was the Astoria Greengrass? The social queen of the season. The future lady of the house of Malfoy.
Ron’s hand settled on her thigh and Hermione quickly brushed it away. Should she go see Narcissa? Could she help her at all? What could she do, if anything?
Before Hermione could do anything, Narcissa quickly stood and made her way down the aisle. Her head held high and with grace as the crowd around her looked on.
Hermione turned to Harry to find him watching her as well, his face pinched with worry. He stood, muttering he’d be right back.
Before Hermione could join him, Ron placed his hand on her thigh.
Hermione glared at him and shoved his hand back to his lap. “Stop.” Hermione sharply whispered.
Lavendar looked up briefly from her gossip session with the Patil twin, but rolled her eyes and laughed.
Ron shrugged. “Listen ‘Mione. You’ve never dressed like this before. I know it’s for me.”
Hermione sat with her mouth agape. Did he honestly think she dressed up for him? After everything he’d put her through.
“Ronald. In no way was I thinking of you when I decided to wear to this dress.”
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry returned to his seat.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.
Harry frowned. “It’s bad. Astoria’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Ginny asked.
“Gone.” Harry said, his eyes on Malfoy. “She left a note saying she couldn’t do it.”
Hermione looked up to find Narcissa quietly speaking with Malfoy at the front.
Malfoy’s eyes seemed to glaze over. He was occluding.
“I spoke with Narcissa.” Harry continued. “Because of the pureblood traditions, since Astoria left the way she did, they will offer if there are any willing virgin brides.”
Hermione balked.
Harry nodded. “I know, it’s weird right?”
"Primitive." Hermione mumbled.
Ginny leaned in, her face pale. “You know what this means, right?”
Harry and Hermione shared a look of confusion.
“If there is no willing bride, Malfoy will have to marry Daphne Greengrass.”
“Wait, no. Daphne is engaged to Theo Nott.” Harry said, shaking his head.
“Yes, but since Astoria backed out of the engagement and if there is no willing bride, Daphne will have to step in.”
“That’s horrible.” Hermione looked up to find Theo and Daphne furiously arguing through whispers. Malfoy looked on, paler than possible.
“Surely there will be a willing bride.” Ron chimed in. “Malfoy is loaded.”
Money could only entice someone so far. Hermione glanced around at the young witches. Everyone seemed to be…almost delighted? Perhaps at seeing the once pristine Malfoy family in such a position.
Ginny leaned forward again, she whispered, “I’m not sure, but if Daphne has to step in and it doesn’t work, then she’s basically informing everyone that she’s not a virgin.”
Hermione and Harry shared a look of concern.
This was bad.
Hermione looked up again to see Theo leaving, a murderous look on his usually smiling face. Daphne stood by, flowers in hand, pale and shaky.
Hermione couldn’t be more thankful that she was muggleborn. The world she knew, for the most part, no longer cared about the 'pure' status of the bride.
Ginny poked her thigh and laughed. “What about you Hermione? You could go up there.”
Harry, Hermione and Ron each shared a look of utter shock.
“’Mione, no!” Ron bellowed.
Hermione swatted his hands away. “If I wanted to, I would Ron. With or without your approval.”
“Hermione,” Harry said with a warning tone.
“I’m just saying…” Hermione said, tapping his hand in reassurance.
“Attention esteemed guests!” Blaise stood at the front, speaking into his wand. “As many of you may have noticed, there is a guest of honor missing. The bride.”
The crowd of guests gasped and murmured to their neighbors.
I knew it.
No one would want to marry a Malfoy.
He must have done something to her.
Hermione fumed. How quickly were they to turn against the very people they came here to celebrate for.
Blaise raised one hand to silence the crowd.
“As per pureblood custom, we ask if there is any eligible witch who would like to take Astoria Greengrass’s place.”
The crowd became even noisier.
Who would be crazy enough to - ?
To marry him after –
How embarrassing for the Malfoys!
Hermione looked at Malfoy. He stood regal in his robes, his eyes staring down the aisle, occluding heavily. Narcissa stood by his side, her hands trembling slightly.
Ron placed an arm around the back of her chair.
Hermione decided to ignore it.
This ceremony would be done sooner anyway. No one seemed to be willing to step in.
She glanced at Daphne and Theo, both standing at the edge, pale and shaken. Regardless of the outcome, if Daphne were to marry Malfoy or not, it was going to be awful.
“We ask again,” Blaise announced. “If there is any willing witch, may they stand now and take the place beside the groom.”
Another wave of murmuring came from the crowd. Hermione sat still, watching. She couldn’t help but feel for the Malfoy matriarch. After everything she’d done to gain the respect and favor, it was all falling apart before her.
Hermione, distracted by her own thoughts, barely registered Ron’s hand slowly making it’s way down her back to her arse. He gripped it firmly and greedily.
Hermione jumped up swatting his hand away.
Ronald! How dare he!
Hermione glared down at him. He looked up at her in shock, his mouth agape.
A hush fell over the crowd.
“Granger?” Blaise asked.
Hermione looked away from Ronald to find the crowd staring at her in shock.
She straightened shakily.
Oh no.