Run Away, Far Away (A Dramione Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: The Bride

Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my first Harry Potter-related multi-chapter fanfic! I am very excited to share with you guys a DraMione fanfic that has been going through my head because that pairing is very dearly close to my heart. I hope you guys like this new story of mine as I had fun writing it. Enjoy! (I do NOT own Harry Potter or anything related to them. All credits go to the lovely J. K. Rowling)

Run Away, Far Away

Chapter One: The Bride

It has been five years since Voldemort was defeated by none other than Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. It didn't come as a shock to anyone, really. I mean, if Harry in his infant form defeated the Dark Lord, what more when he has a sense of reason and could hone his magical abilities? Though I want to believe that peace has been restored to the Wizarding World, there is still a handful of dark forces that want chaos to arise once more. I pity them for they have chosen the wrong side and continuing to live in defeat. With the fresh graduates from Hogwarts, the number of Aurors doubled especially when the word was out that Harry accepted the Ministry's offer despite lacking one year of the required academic achievement. With Ron and some other of our classmates that seek justice for their loved ones backing him up, they began their training at once. And I, Hermione Jean Granger, returned to Hogwarts for my last year along with some others who rejected the Ministry's offer.

Right after graduation, I took upon a job at the Ministry immediately as an Unspeakable. Researching and finding out new things has been my passion and I think the people who know me would agree with that. I have spent seven years in Hogwarts staying up all night to read hundreds and hundreds of books. For some, they consider it as my hobby or habit. But for me, it's a passion. I had to read and know what the Wizarding World was like, or is like, because if I didn't, then I would seem to be an ignorant Muggle-Born. I have to admit that I didn't have much knowledge about Hogwarts or anything magic-related when I first received my acceptance letter. Being raised in the Muggle world, of course, my interests were of those that didn't have anything to do with magic. I am grateful, though, that I have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, even though the insults I got back when I was studying was horrendous and did make me cry sometimes. If I weren't so eager to learn, I don't think I will be deserving the job that I have now.

"Your parents are here," Ginny said as she entered my dressing room. A couple of women were helping in making me as beautiful as possible for this very special day. I had to hire makeup artists and hairdressers just to keep my appearance at bay because Merlin knows how much I hate doing that. Yes, I may be dubbed as the brightest witch of my age as I seem to know anything about everything but I never paid much attention to my appearance. I have other priorities; those of greater importance. But I guess for this occasion, it can't be helped.

I turned slightly towards Ginny and gave her a smile. "Please send them in." Her eyes were wide at the sight of me. I must look like a proper human being, given the expression she showed. I rolled my eyes at her teasingly. "Oh, Ginevra, don't go crying on me now. The wedding haven't even started yet!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, 'Mione," she said, still with a smile on her face. "I shall send them in now, then."

I looked back at my own reflection in the mirror and contemplated on my appearance as I waited for mum and dad. The war changed me, it changed everyone, in truth. Though I'm only twenty-two, the differences between my seventeen-year-old self and my present self is clearly and undeniably visible. My doe brown eyes lost their twinkle that my friends were so fond of. My smile isn't as bright as it used to be. And my forehead and the sides of my eyes bear faded fine lines. The war broke me and made me older. But there were still some traces of the younger Hermione that stubbornly peeks through the old one. For instance, my bushy brown hair is still as unmanageable as ever. If it calmed down over the years, I don't think I'll hire a hairdresser today. With a bit of magic, I could fix it myself, but like I said, it's still as wild. The splatter of freckles on my nose still shows. Ronald said that was his favorite feature of mine as we share the same dots around our faces. And my head is still intact. My brain still holds billions of information, from people's names, curses, jinxes, to every last ingredient that a dreamless sleep potion has.