Eight years later, Hermione stood nervously in a spare room at Malfoy Manor. Her mother and Narcissa Malfoy fussed over her beautiful white wedding dress, smoothing miniscule ridges in the fabric and arranging her freshly-curled hair around her face. Her heart raced in her chest.
"How are you feeling, dear?" Narcissa asked her, smiling kindly.
Hermione smiled tightly in return and nodded jerkily. Narcissa squeezed her hand comfortingly before going back to neatening the dress. Not that it needed neatening.
Hermione still couldn't believe how nice Draco's parents had been about everything. When they'd first learned about Draco and Hermione, Lucius had been furious. Narcissa had simply been shocked. Then when Draco had refused to dump Hermione, their initial reactions faded to weary acceptance, then a grudging warmth as Hermione worked hard to prove to them just how much she loved Draco. Now she was sure Narcissa loved her like a daughter, and she had a feeling that Lucius' reserved manner hid, at the very least, a feeling of friendship to Hermione, if not a hint of father-like love.
"You're ready." Her mother's soft voice made Hermione jump, as lost as she was in thought.
She took a deep breath, picked up the bouquet of white lilies from the table that sat next to the monstrous bed, and slowly walked out of the room into the entrance hall. Her father and Lucius stood, both looking surprisingly handsome, in a father-like way, in suits, Lucius in white and her father in black.
Narcissa walked forward to take her husband's arm, his white suit setting of her scarlet cocktail dress perfectly. Hermione's mother, in her silvery-grey ball gown, took his other arm and he gave Hermione a small smile before Lucius escorted the two women out to their seats.
Hermione's father bowed gallantly and offered his arm, flashing her a huge, proud smile. She returned his grin with a small one of her own, before taking his arm and straightening her back, nervously smoothing her dress for the hundredth time.
Blood roared in her ears when the music started to play, and her feet seemed to move of their own accord. She squinted eyes momentarily at the bright sunlight, and took in the sight of her friends and family, and members of the Malfoy family. They all sat in ivory chairs tied with scarlet ribbons on the side with Hermione's family to represent Gryffindor, and emerald green on the Malfoy's side to represent Slytherin.
Hermione could see her mother sitting next to Harry and Ginny, who held their young son, James Sirius Potter. Ginny belly was bulging slightly, so Hermione guessed they had another young one on the way. Ron sat on their other side. He had eventually gotten over the fact that Hermione was with Draco, and had married Lavender Brown. Thankfully, Lavender was no longer a giggly, annoying little girl; she had matured greatly and had a high position in the Ministry.
Then Hermione's eyes found Draco's. His smile was huge as he gazed at her. He looked extremely handsome in his crisp white shirt, neat black pants, shiny black shoes and green-and-silver bow tie. Hermione felt a rush of love and comfort so strong, she had to hold herself back from dragging her father forward to get to Draco. But she managed to remain at a stately pace. Finally, she reached the raised dais and her father took her hand and Draco's, ceremonially placing her hand into Draco's.
She stared into his eyes throughout the entire ceremony, speaking when necessary, but never taking her brown eyes from his grey ones. Finally the priest announced, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your lovely bride."
Draco didn't waste a second, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her right on the mouth. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, short but sweet. They broke apart and everyone stood and cheered. Because of the presence of Hermione's Muggle relatives and friends, the magical folk present had to restrain from sending up celebratory sparks with their wands, but Hermione didn't care. She was finally Draco's wife, and that was all she cared about. She looked at the ring on her finger, and marveled at how she wasn't Hermione Granger anymore; she was Hermione Malfoy. 'Hermione Malfoy'. She rolled the name over in her head. It sounded just right. Smiling at the realisation, she twined her fingers with Draco's and walked back down the aisle. She accepted hugs and handshakes from both the Malfoys and the Grangers, and of course from Harry, Ron, Ginny and even Lavender. But the biggest hugs came from Narcissa and Hermione's mother. Both women had tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces.
They eventually got into the house, leaving behind the chatter of their two families getting to know each other. Draco took her by the hand and leading her back to the room in which she had gotten ready.
He then took her shoulders and kissed her firmly on the lips. "My wife," he murmured, "my wife at last..."
Hermione kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck. Joy swelled her heart and she couldn't imagine being any happier than at this moment.
She pulled back and leaned forward to rest her head on his chest, loving the warmth of him as his arms went around her. "Your wife. I like it," she said, smiling softly. "My husband." She looked up at him as she said this.
He broke into a wide grin. "You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that."
"I think I might have an inkling." She hugged him tightly, getting lost in the moment.
After a few minutes of just enjoying being in each others arms, Draco sighed heavily and groaned, "Well, we'll have to face it some time. Might as well be now." Hermione moaned when she realised he was refering to the only bad part of this day; the photographers. They had hired two seperate photographers, a wizard photographer and a Muggle one. The Muggle photographer would take still photographs that would be given to Hermione's family, and the moving pictures for the Malfoys. Hermione had managed to convince the Minister to allow her parents one moving photo, on the condition that it would stay hidden while other Muggles were around. Hermione's parents had agreed instantly, eager to have a little piece of magic in their home.
Draco smoothed Hermione's hair, smiling crookedly. "You look beautiful. But then, you usually do."
"And you are definitely the most handsome man in the house."
"As it should be," he responded jokingly.
When Hermione woke up, that was all she could clearly remember.
The rest of the night passed in a blur.
All Hermione could really remember was the flash of cameras, dancing in Draco's arms, then her father's, then Lucius', and several other men, both from her Muggle family and the Malfoys. She remembered many congratulations and hugs.
And then herself and Draco, falling onto the bed, bodies pressed together intimately. Kisses, embraces, and then...
The images flashing through her head made Hermione both blush and feel overly joyous. She rolled over in the king-size bed, staring at Draco, sleeping beside her. She noticed lipstick marks on his face, neck and chest, making her blush as yet more images rose in her memory.
She continued to gaze at her husband as the sun rose, breathing a hint of life into his always-pale skin and flecks of pale gold in his white-blonde hair. Slowly, his grey eyes fluttered open and met hers. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, then Draco broke into a wide grin.
"Well," he said, giving her a sly look, "last night was fun."
Hermione flushed beet-red and hit him softly with a pillow. He chuckled and drew her close against his bare chest. Snuggling close to him, Hermione whispered, "Yesterday and last night were the best twenty-four hours of my existence."
They lay still until the sun had risen fully and was shining into Draco's-- 'OUR room now,' Hermione reminded herself --humongous bedroom. Draco inhaled deeply and asked, "Do you want breakfast in bed, or in the dining room with our parents?"
Hermione was a little surprised to hear that her parents had stayed the night as well, but as she recalled how many glasses of champagne her father had downed, she guessed she really shouldn't be.
She made up her mind. "I think I'd like a few more minutes alone."
"Breakfast in bed it is, then." He reached behind him to pull a rope that Hermione hadn't noticed before, which she guessed rung a bell in the kitchen or someplace, and about a minute later, just enough time for Hermione to throw on one of Draco's button-up t-shirts which reached to about mid-thigh on her, a middle-aged witch in a neat black dress came in with several dishes levitating behind her. One contained bacon, another had fried eggs, and there was toast and several jams and other assorted spreads. The witch left them to eat in peace. By the end of breakfast, Hermione felt simply stuffed, but pleasantly so.
They spent the rest of the day closeted in their room and left two days later for their honeymoon to Romania, where they visited Charlie Weasley and admired many dragons.
Eleven years on, on Platform 9 3/4, Hermone bent to hug her two blonde-haired children. Scorpius and Esme were the first identical twins born into the Malfoy family, and Draco and Hermione were both quite proud of them. Their hair was a few shades darker than their father's, but their eyes were the same rich, dark brown as their mother's. They had the same thin, fine-boned face structure as most Malfoys, but the sharp wit and cleverness of their mother.
Hermione kissed them both on their foreheads. Scorpius ducked away, looking ruffled and embarassed, but Esme flung her arms around her mother and shed a few tears, saying in a trembling voice, "I'll miss you, mother."
"And I'll miss you, my sweet Esme. But you'll make friends at Hogwarts, and James and Albus will be there. You won't be alone." She hugged her daughter before stepping back to allow Draco to say good bye to Esme. Hermione stepped to the side with her sone and bent down on her knees. "Scorpius? Are you alright, dear?"
"I'm fine," he muttered, not meeting her gaze. He reminded her so much of his father that Hermione couldn't help but pull him into her arms for a hug. He stood straight and rigid, but quickly relaxed and hugged her back ferociously. "What's wrong?"
Scorpius' voice was muffled by her hair, but she heard him as he mumbled, "What if Esme and me don't get put in the same house? I mean, all the Malfoys have been in Slytherin for generations, but she's more like you and I'm more like Dad... what if I'm in Slytherin and she's in Gryffindor?"
Being the older twin, even if only by twenty minutes, Hermione guessed it was natural that he would be the one to shoulder the burden of worry. Hermione looked her son straight in the eye, which were so like hers she momentarily felt like she was staring at a strange reflection of herself, and said, "Scorpius Draco Malfoy, if it really matters so much, you can ask the Sorting Hat to put you in Gryffindor. Or you could simply ask that you remain with your sister, whatever the house, whether it be Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff. It takes your choice on board. Harry told me that the Sorting Hat had been a second away from putting him in Slytherin, but as Slytherin had a bad reputation back then, he asked it not to and it placed him in Gryffindor."
"So, Harry Potter was meant to be in Slytherin?"
Scorpius frowned in confusion. "But you said--"
"If he had really been meant for Slytherin, he wouldn't have asked for a different house, would he? If you don't want to be in a particular house, then you're not right for that house anyway, are you?"
"I... I suppose not." Hermione's son hung his head. "But just say that we are put in different houses--"
"Then you'll know it was for the best. The Sorting Hat has your best interests in mind. Okay?"
"Okay." Scorpius gave his mother one of his rare smiles. His mood had lightened so greatly that he even let her kiss him on the forehead.
Then Scorpius and Esme were off, blonde hair waving in the breeze and walking at exactly the same pace without trying so that people turned their heads to stare. Hermione knew what her children must look like to other people. The twins had possessed natural grace all their lives, and with their identical pale faces and blonde hair the precise colour of pale gold, they looked like ghosts or apparitions.
'But to me, they are my little angels.'
Hermione leaned on Draco's shoulder as their eyes followed Scorpius and Esme onto the train, and they stood there long after the train had departed, taking the Malfoy twins to start their new lives as Hogwarts students.