Chapter Text
The lads each took one of her hands and led her to the front of the hall. Hermione’s breath caught as she saw all their guests in their seats, all the flowers lining the aisle. The officiator smiled gently at her as she took her place.
“It looks to be a very beautiful ceremony” he said.
“Thank you.” She turned back to Harry and Ron. “Do I look alright? Is my hair good? Dress straight?”
“I think your dress is gay, actually. Is that a problem? I don’t picture Fleur as the kind of girl that wouldn’t marry a naked you” Harry joked and Hermione appreciated the joke and gently patted him in the chest.
“Harry” She chastised him gently, like the mother of the group she’d grown to be over the years.
“You look great” Harry gave her an affectionate scan, looking for any last minute corrections on Hermione’s dress and finding nothing he nodded; reassuring Hermione that she was ready.
“Very beautiful.” Ron made an Ok handsign and smiled so proudly he seemed to be her father instead of her friend.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay.” Hermione took a deep, desperate breath and remembered all of the sudden.
“Do you have the rings?” She asked Harry, feeling her stomach drop for a second.
“Yes. I still think it’s a pity you didn’t go with a ring bearer though.” Harry smiled and Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry’s idea of having dwarves dressed as Hobbits doing the ring holding instead of them.
“That wasn’t even funny the first time,” Ron complained mockingly because he did find it funny but really wanted to stay on Hermione’s good side today.
“It was a little funny. Hermione thought it was funny, didn’t you?” Harry said as he signaled with his hand to the about to be Mrs. Granger-Delacour.
“No.” Hermione hid a smile, because for a moment she did found it funny but then thought better than to ruin what was supposed to be a perfect day.
“You’re a dirty dirty liar.” Harry raised his finger, accusing Hermione without meaning it, all part of his ploy to keep Hermione from having a panic attack that would delay the ceremony.
Hermione chuckled, and just then the music started.
They’d opted for a small wedding party, mostly to keep Fleur’s family from making a fuss over who was included. Luna came down the aisle first, her stately figure giving the hall a weight it had lacked before. Every perfectly measured step she took seemed to say ‘It is a true honor to be here today with you and I will do my best for you to look great on the wedding video’
Then Ginny walked in, her steps different. Short, halting, resisting the approach to the dumbass at the front she called husband but was known to everyone else as ‘Harry’ for fear of laughing and messing up. She’d rehearsed the perfect wedding walk and her smile was plastered on as she pointedly avoided eye contact with any of them so she wouldn’t burst with laughter.
There was a pause once she arrived, followed by a swelling of the music. Every guest rose and turned to the entrance.
Outside the sun was bright, and for a moment all Hermione could see was Fleur’s figure outlined in the light. Her appearance came into focus slowly. First, her hands, curved around the base of her bouquet. Then, her dress, the simple cap sleeves, the fitted bodice, the way it flowed from her waist to the ground to make it look like she glided instead of walked. Her hair was done in a loose up-do, with several curls left to frame her face.
And her face… Hermione allowed herself her anticipated tears; the tears she’d told her mother she wouldn’t cry but had accepted that she totally would because she was that in love with Fleur.
Fleur looked more beautiful than Hermione had ever seen her, which should have been impossible but wasn’t. Her smile was soft and cheeks flushed. When their eyes met, Hermione saw that hers looked a little glassy. She bit her tongue to keep from crying too hard.
Somehow, she’d never expected any tears from Fleur in all this.
Harry rubbed her arm gently. “She loves you too. Never forget or doubt it” he whispered.
Hermione wiped her eyes as Fleur handed her flowers off to Luna.
Hermione couldn’t focus on what the officiant was saying. Fleur was here, this was real, she would really be her wife. It was so wonderfully impossible that Hermione could barely remember how to breathe.
“Now, the brides have written their own wedding vows." The officiant spoke with the serenity of someone who'd done this a thousand times and knew exactly how to handle two people overflowing with love for each other "Hermione, Fleur. Please face each other and hold hands."He commanded gently, like a father asking his children to please go to bed "Hermione, please speak your vows.”
Somehow, the simple act of touching in this most important day rendered Hermione speechless for several long seconds. Fleur’s hands, held in hers like they had been countless times over their years together, reached into her very soul. She closed her eyes and did her best to remember what she’d practiced every day for three hours since she had proposed.
“You know-” Hermione spoke, failing to say the opening she’d rehearsed “I woke up this morning not sure I was awake. Every moment, every joy we’ve had together seemed too surreal to be true. I really couldn’t believe I was this lucky. Lucky enough to be marrying you.” Hermione sighed suppressing a whimper and let a few tears roll down her face rather than mumbling the rest of her vows through incoherent babbling ”But I guess, somehow, I am.” She stroked her thumb over Fleur’s knuckles. “I never would have believed that someone so incredible could love me. You’re too good to be true. And now we get to make a life.”
The thought of the next word she was going to sat made Hermione exhale happily and let out a small whimper of joy “Together. I wish I could promise you that I’ll be the best wife ever, but I probably won’t be. I’m going to be late for dinner, if I show up at all some days. And I’m pretty sure I’ll keep falling asleep during your favorite French films, even if I try really hard to care about them.” A chuckle rose from their guests. “But there are some things I can promise, and I’d like to do that now.” She took a breath. “I promise to love you, always, for the rest of my life, and with some luck even longer. I promise to care for you when you’re sick, or tired, or just want me there. I promise to be your friend, your servant, your family. I promise that I’ll never stop trying to be the perfect wife for you.”
“You are already perfect for me, Mon Ange.” Fleur looked at her with such love in her eyes Hermione felt the need to squeal in excitement at the adoration in the eyes of her about to be wife; eyes that made this moment all the more surreal because of how beautiful they looked on the face of the person that was about to be tied to her forever. Hermione’s tears started falling in full force and she felt her face flush red
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say anything yet, Fleur.” Hermione took a breath. “But above all else, I promise to do everything I can to make you every bit as happy as you make me.”
The officiant smiled and tilted his head. “Now, Fleur. Please say your vows.”
“This may or may not surprise my family, but I am a cynic who never believed in fairy tales about living happily ever after. Not until I met you.” She looked into Hermione’s eyes. Her smile was sure but a little wobbly, giving away Fleur was also fighting tears of her own to speak her vows. “You are my proof that there’s truth in that phrase you hear so often. You are my light, my one and only, who I will love for the rest of my life. I will do everything in my power to make you the 'appiest woman alive, ‘ermione.”
Hermione smiled and tried not to sob like the blushing bride she was. “I already am.”
“Now who’s speaking out of turn?” Fleur teased and Hermione blushed.
“Sorry.” Hermione looked down and simply took in the feeling as Fleur squeezed her hands as if to say ‘It’s Ok. I love you too’
“I will be by your side through anything life throws at us. And I will love you, even when I cannot love your decisions. This I promise you for now until our deaths and maybe beyond.” Fleur wasn’t much of a believer in an afterlife but forever sounded nice with Hermione, one way or the other.
“Will the best man please bring forward the rings.” The officiant spoke up and Harry couldn’t help it.
“Sure, but first, the best man will bring forward some tissues.” The guests laughed as Harry rushed up and dabbed at Hermione’s face with a handkerchief. His own cheeks were damp. He handed over the rings and returned to his place.
“Hermione, place your ring on Fleur’s finger and repeat after me -With this ring, I thee wed.” The officiant’s voice was commanding yet assuring and Hermione’s hand shook just a little as she slid the ring up Fleur’s finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” It fit in place like it was always meant to be there, like Fleur’s hands had been waiting to bear this symbol of their union to Hermione ever since she had been born.
“Fleur, would you kindly do the same?.” The officiant asked tenderly.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” Fleur said as she placed the ring in Hermione’s hand and Hermione could help it. She smiled and let out a sound that was a chuckle and a sob mixed together: They matched, now. Hermione laced her fingers with Fleur’s, ring hand against ring hand.
“Then with the power vested in me, I pronounce you wedded wives. You may now kiss.”
Hermione moved in as soon as the officiant finished saying 'kiss', Fleur’s hand still in hers. It was a kiss like any other, except it wasn’t— she was kissing her wife. Her wife tasted sweeter than her than her fiancée, who had tasted sweeter than her girlfriend. Hermione’s heart was ready to burst with joy as she took in the feeling of her wife’s sweet lips pressed against hers softly and her stomach did summersaults as the thought sank in.
Her wife.
Her Fleur.
Her Hapily Ever After made true.
Music started playing again and Luna handed Fleur her bouquet. As they walked down the aisle, Hermione couldn’t stop beaming.
“You’re my wife,” she whispered, the feeling more and more incredible with each passing second.
“Et toi le mien.” Fleur whispered and Hermione could tell Fleur felt just the same.
The moment they stepped outside and out of sight of the guests, Fleur pulled Hermione flush into a deep kiss that was lust, love and passion all rolled into a single action so overwhelming Hermione moaned and felt herself ready to have her wedding night right there and then.
“Hey, lasses, the officiant is going to be out in a moment so you can sign the marriage license. Save the snogging for tonight.”
Hermione pulled away, blushing and pulled Harry into a hug. “Who are you to tell me what to do with my wife?”
“I can’t wait for you to see how much you were crying!” Harry said laughing as he returned the hug twice as hard “You huge, useless lesbian.”
“Alle, ‘arry. Are we to pretend your eyes were dry the whole time?” Fleur teased and Harry shrugged.
“You definitely sniffled a bit, mate” Ron added with an elbow nudge.
“Yeah, well so did you, mate.” Harry said as he pulled Ron close and they had a group hug.
“That’s a lie!” Ron tried to be proud for some reason Hermione couldn't even try to think about in all her joy.
“It’s not” Luna said dryly as she catched up with them.
“Ladies, are you ready?” The officiant walked up to them and laid out the license for them in a nearby table. Hermione signed first, her hand only shaking a little as she wrote Hermione Jean Granger-Delacour. Fleur took her turn next, her hand more steady, and then their witnesses: Harry and Ron.
Hermione hugged Fleur from behind. “I’m not dreaming? You’re my wife?”
“I know it looks like a dream, ma coeur. I assure you, if it is I'll kill the person that wakes me up with a blunt knife.” She kissed Hermione’s hand just below her wedding band. “Je t’aime.”
“I love you too.” Hermione said, blushing as every moment became a new first: A first kiss with her wife, a first ‘I love you’, a first hug and a first everything that would come next.