The Best Thing I Never Had

Epilogue 1: Perfect and Imperfect

In Hermione's opinion, the day was a tad bit too perfect. The sky was her favourite shade of blue. The sun was shining just right. There was not a single grey cloud in sight.

She stood up and padded to the bathroom. She knew Ginny would be coming in any minute to spend the day with her. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and tried to calm herself down enough to prepare for breakfast. She looked at the clock—six hours left.

Stop glancing at the clock, she scolded herself. She then stepped outside to face the day. Ginny arrived in time with the toast popping out from the toaster.

"Hello, beautiful," Ginny said. "Ready for the day?"

Hermione paused for a minute to try and come up with a decent answer. "As ready as I'll ever be. Want some breakfast?"

Ginny sat down. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Ginny asked as Hermione shakily poured her a cup of coffee.

"Of course not," Hermione replied. "It's just that . . . most of what's going to happen today, I've never actually done before. It's not something you can pick up from practice. Or something you learn from a book."

"Honey, you're overreacting again," Ginny chided. "All the little imperfections that are going to happen today are nothing but a mere tap on the shoulder from reality, letting you know that you still live in its world. What matters is, by the end of the day, you'll have him by your side."

She committed Ginny's words to mind and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "You're right," she muttered eventually.

Draco, on the other hand, woke up with a pounding headache. His vision was hazy and he felt like the room was spinning. He tried to lift his body, but it was resisting, as if his bed had the strongest pull of gravity. He knew this feeling. He was drunk. The memories came back to him slowly and confirmed his theory. He'd sworn to himself several times that he would never attend a bachelor party (or any party at all, really) that was hosted by Blaise. Over the years he'd discovered that a party headed by Blaise is a party underlined with alcohol, tequila shots and nothing less than 150-proof. And yet, he always attended these parties. Oh well, old habits die hard.

He summoned all of his will to stand up and go to the bathroom to wash up. After that, he had to summon more to get to the kitchen and brew himself some espresso. After three shots, he was finally sober enough to make himself breakfast.

His eyes slowly came into focus as he fed his previously growling stomach. He resisted lying down and took some Paracetamol for his head. After a few moments, is headache began to ebb away. When he was feeling better, he grabbed his phone.

"Good morning, sleep well?" he asked as soon as she picked up.

"Alright," she relied. "Better than you at least."

"How'd you know?"

"Well, Blaise might have let it slip that he was going to throw you a stag party. Seen any pretty girls?"

"Not as pretty as you," he replied, smirking to himself. He remembered the night, the drinking and the stripping, but none of the girls' faces.

"Ha-ha," Hermione replied. "You can stop flattering me now"

Draco chuckled. "Ready?"

"Sort of . . . but I'm still queasy about changing my last name."

"For heaven's sake, Hermione, it's a name not a puppy!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I got too used to my name," she scolded. Then she began talking to someone else and he heard the phone being handed over.

"Hello," came Ginny's voice which was dangerously low. "Can you two please stop talking now, the bride and I are kinda busy. Besides, you'll have her to yourself after the wedding."

"Last five seconds please?" Draco pleaded.

"Fine," Ginny huffed. He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him. "But when time's up I'm snapping to phone shut."

He heard the phone being handed over again and heard the end of her chuckle. "Bye. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. "I'll see you later."

"Hermione, are you sure you wanna do this?" Ginny asked for probably the nth time since they arrived at the Ministry. The lifts were descending slowly, their companions becoming less and less.

"You have reached the final floor of the Ministry of Magic," called the disembodied female voice. Hermione knew for a fact that it wasn't the last floor yet.

"Of course I'm sure," Hermione replied, reaching to touch the seemingly blank button on the control pad.

"You have requested to enter the Ministry of Magic Secure Correctional Dungeons," said the disembodied voice. "Please state your name and purpose"

"Hermione Jean Granger, Order of Merlin First Class, here for visitation to Ronald Bilius Weasley, detained for frustrated kidnapping and physical assault. No relation to the detainee."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, Order of Merlin First Class, here for visitation to Ronald Bilius Weasley, detained for frustrated kidnapping and physical assault. Sister of detainee."

The lift descended slowly and soon reached a darker floor. The grilles slid open noisily in front of them.

"Welcome, visitors," the disembodied voice said. "Please be reminded that all magic are disabled on this floor."

The two of them entered and were led by an Auror to the medium security cells.

Ron was waiting for them at the visitor's area, guarded heavily by three Aurors.