The following morning, on the dawn of the Summer Solstice, the residents of Château de la Roche Courbon were abuzz and fluttering around hours before the final event of the Fête Médiévale was due to start.
The only resident not rushing around like a headless chicken was Harry James Potter. Not wanting to see the proof that he had lost his best friend, he spent most of his day strolling through the gardens, only returning to his room when he was certain the wedding party had left for the chapel.
Finding himself alone with nothing else to do, he decided to Floo-call Ron.
"Congratulations, man!" Ron grinned when Harry's face appeared in his fireplace.
"I never told her," Harry admitted, sadly. "She just left for the church."
"What do you mean you haven't told her?" Ron shouted as he looked down at his friend's face in the fire as if Harry had just grown three heads.
"I tried to tell her multiple times," Harry protested. "I tried to tell her while we were walking through the gardens, I tried to confess while she was working on her vows. I even tried to tell her at her Hen Party, but then we kissed and everything went to hell. She doesn't believe that I truly care about her."
"No offense, mate, but you have to man up!" Ron argued.
"I know! I know... I just—" Harry sighed.
"What are you in France for?" Ron asked.
"The wine?" Harry tried to joke, but it fell flat.
"I'm done with this bullshit, Harry! Take the shot and bring her home! I'm not kidding anymore," Ron sighed. "Hermione is one of my best friends too. We all love her. You need to bring her home. Without her, it's like a part of all of us is missing."
"I'm just… What if Draco is right for her?" Harry finally voiced his true worries aloud. "She's obviously in love with him, and he's good to her."
"Yeah, Draco's great and all, but he's not you," Ron replied. "I've known Hermione just as long as you have. I also happen to know that she's been in love with you for years. She just got tired of waiting for you to truly notice her, and Draco showed up to sweep her off her feet. She thinks she loves him, but she doesn't. Right now, she's infatuated with him, but I bet you anything that she's still head over heels for you."
Harry's jaw was on the floor. Since when was Ronald Weasley the bloody voice of reason?
"However, I doubt you really need me to tell you that. The pair of you know each other far better than most people know their own spouses!" Ron continued. "You just have to prove that you're being sincere and she'll believe you."
"I just never found the right time," Harry sighed.
"Harry," Ron scolded him angrily, "you don't seem to be getting it, so I'm going to be blunt. There is no more time! Hermione is on her way to her wedding! If you don't stop her now, she'll be Draco's wife."
But how do I—"
"You say the words, you arse!" Ron yelled at him. "Look her in the eyes and say the words 'Hermione Granger, I love you, marry me.' She's known you long enough to know you mean it so she should snap out of it, and everything will be alright."
"When did you get to be so wise?" Harry wondered.
"When I fell for Fleur," Ron told him honestly. "Now go get her and don't come back unless you bring her with you!"
The chapel was decorated beautifully for the wedding. Hermione's girlfriends fluttered around her as they got her ready with any last minute adjustments.
When the time came for everyone to be seated, Jean hugged her daughter tightly and kissed her on the cheek. Narcissa adjusted the emerald sash around Hermione's waist before patting her hand with a smile. Both women linked arms and left the room so the bridesmaids could have a final moment alone with the bride.
"'Ermione, I'm sorry you got into a fight with 'Arry," Fleur observed as she tucked a few locks of Hermione's hair into the braided bun.
"He's just afraid of losing me," Hermione insisted. "He'll eventually get over it."
"I'm not so sure," Luna observed breezily. "Don't you think he's been acting differently? More mature?"
"I mean… Harry has grown up, but he hasn't grown up enough… I need someone who's gonna be there for me, no matter what," Hermione insisted.
"You know we're here to support you," Ginny told her. "You're our friend and we just want you to be happy. Look, Hermione, I saw the two of you last night and… I got jealous. I wanted… I wanted to feel… I don't know… I got really drunk and tried to seduce Harry, but he wasn't having any of it. If you're saying all of this now because you caught us, then you need to know it was me coming on to him, not the other way around."
"Ginny?" Fleur asked, skeptically.
"I was drunk, okay?" Ginny waved it off but looked around at her friends in earnest. "I remember enough to be embarrassed, but Hermione deserves to know before she gets married. I pushed him down and he tried to fight me off without hurting me, until he saw you." She turned back to the bride. "That's when he forgot about not hurting me and did everything he could to get to you. If he really was only interested in not losing you as a friend, do you really think he'd leave a half-naked woman on the floor of his bedroom?"
Hermione stared at her friend slack-jawed.
"I—I don't know what to say to that," she confessed.
"I just thought you should know," Ginny admitted. "The three of us care about you more than anything and just want what's best for you. If you want Draco, then let's go get you hitched!"
"Yes. Yes, let's." Hermione nodded with a smile and the other girls pretended she wasn't faking it.
Each bridesmaid kissed her cheek, then entered the chapel to walk down the aisle. Eventually only Hermione and her mother remained.
"Are you ready?" Jean asked her daughter. "You know I'd support you if you wanted to leave instead."
"No," Hermione said softly. "The only thing I'm feeling are a bit of jitters," she confessed. "I love Draco, and I know he loves me the way Dad loved you. I want to marry and live happily ever after with him."
"Then we should definitely get you inside," Jean smiled kindly at her only child before leading her into the chapel.
While Hermione's head was confident she was making the right decision, she could feel her heart sinking as she made her way down the aisle. She shook it off as she made her way towards her fiancé.
He cared about her and she loved him, repeating the mantra over and over again as she forced herself to smile.
When they reached the front of the chapel, Jean kissed Hermione's cheek and placed her hand in Draco's.
"Dearly beloved," Reverend Foote began. "We are gathered here together today to unite Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy in a celebration of love and magic. If there is any man who can show just cause why these two may not be joined together, let him now speak, or forever hold his peace."
At that exact moment, the doors to the chapel burst open to reveal an angry wizard... and a horse.
"I object!" Harry stated loudly as he stormed into the little chapel.
At the sound of her best friend's voice — and a horse whinnying loudly — Hermione spun around in confusion to see a manic-looking Harry Potter leaping off the startled animal and storming down the aisle toward her.
"Why in Merlin's name is there a horse?" She gasped.
"You took all of the cars," he replied as if the answer were obvious. "Nancy was the only ride available and I had to get here."
"Harry, what… what are you doing here?"
She couldn't look at Draco but Hermione knew his hand was tightening around hers. She pulled away, her steps automatically moving towards Harry as he closed the gap between them.
"I have to tell you something… Hermione, I pride myself with being honest with everybody. But there's somebody I've been lying to for a very long time — myself. Because the truth it's… it's scary, and I was terrified of messing things up and losing you because I'm a disaster. I've never had to fight for a girl and it was easy to keep my distance. That all changed ten years ago when I accidentally pranked the wrong girl. That all changed because she wound up being the only girl for me. You fight with me, challenge me, and understand me better than the guys do. I love you, Hermione. I always have. And I always will."
"Harry Potter… You are the worst Maid of Honor of all time. Why didn't you just say that to me earlier? Do you have any idea how bad—"
Harry rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest. Stumbling on the skirt of her opulent gown, Hermione fell into his chest.
"What are you—?"
"Hermione, I love you."
Gasping in surprise, she was given no chance to recover before Harry's lips smothered her own.
Unlike their first awkward kiss, or his desperation last night, Harry forced every ounce of love he felt into this kiss. Hermione was overwhelmed and didn't even consider fighting back. She willingly threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with a passion rivaling his own.
She used the kiss to tell him how she felt. He drove her absolutely crazy. He got her riled up more than anyone else could. He was a terrible flirt and prankster… But she never wanted him to change. She loved him just the way he was. And she loved him deeply.
When they finally pulled apart, Harry didn't meet her gaze but she felt his arms tighten around her possessively. His emerald eyes were no longer focused on her face, he was staring at something behind her.
"Draco," she breathed in realization before wriggling her way out of Harry's arms so she could face her fiancé. "I—I'm… Draco, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you," Hermione told him honestly. "You are the most amazing dream I could have ever imagined, but Harry is… and I… Oh, you are the perfect man. Just not the perfect man for me."
"And you are the most amazing woman I've ever met," Draco replied sadly as he took one of her hands. "Which is why I hope you find happiness, even if it means I lose you… Au revoir, chérie." After a chaste kiss to the back of her knuckles, he let her go.
As he turned away, Hermione saw him slip something into his pocket and she realized he had taken her ring back.
Huh! Just as well, she thought. While beautiful, the ring had never really fit her anyway.
While it appeared that Draco had accepted his broken engagement with dignity, the rest of his family certainly hadn't.
"You're just going to let her leave you… with some merde about not being perfect?!" Narcissa protested angrily.
"Yes," Draco said after a brief consideration. "I think I am, Mother."
Andromeda stepped forward and placed a calming hand on her sister's shoulder before turning to her nephew.
"Draco, mon cher, je pense que tu te sentirais peut-être un peu mieux si tu as frappé cet enfoiré au moins une fois. N'est-ce pas?" Andromeda suggested simply.
"What'd she say?" Harry asked curiously.
"Honestly? She said I should deck you," Draco replied. "And I agree with her."
"That makes sense," Harry nodded, just before a sharp sting radiated across his cheek.
Next thing he knew, he was on the floor and Draco was shaking out his hand. Hermione was on her knees, panicking over him.
"Harry? Oh, Merlin! Harry! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so," Harry groaned as he sat up. "Might've cracked a rib on the pew though."
"You are officially the worst Maid of Honor ever," she observed dryly.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You should probably just pick Ginny for ours."
Hermione laughed and Harry decided it was the most perfect sound in the entire world. She had chosen him over Draco…
And everything was finally alright.
Years later, Hermione Potter made sure the doors and windows were locked up tight before turning off the downstairs light. Briefly stopping by the nursery, she smiled at the peaceful expression of sleep on her child's face. Fondly running her fingers through her son's black messy hair, she leaned down to give the sleeping toddler a kiss before leaving his room as well.
Entering her bedroom, Hermione smiled fondly at the vision of her husband sprawled on the bed, grateful that Harry had left the lamp on for her until she got into bed. Flicking off the light, she slid under the sheets and blankets, gratefully snuggling into their warmth. Seconds later, she felt Harry's arms band around her waist, tugging her into his chest. Adjusting herself to be in a comfortable position, Hermione relaxed, ready for a good night's sleep.
Sitting prominently on their bedside table was a once hidden, but now cherished, old photograph of a young couple sharing a glass of wine in the vineyards of Italy.