"What the hell am I doing? What the hell am I doing?" Hermione asked herself under her breath over and over again as she stumbled off the bus and into a deserted alleyway.

She barely glanced around to make sure no one was watching her; she turned on the spot and felt herself being compressed into nothingness. The next second, she appeared in another alley almost identical to the one she'd just left.

She could have ridden the bus, but that would have taken longer. Time was passing too quickly; she had forgotten completely about lunch with Ron and Harry and two and a half hours had slipped away like sand through her clutching fingers.

Half the time she had spent sitting in that bus seat, staring blankly out the window in utter shock at the news she had just received; the other half she had spent convincing herself she didn't care, rationalizing it until her head was pounding with the words -

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

And then - like a lightning bolt out of the sky - I love him.

The words reverberated inside her head over and over, like a chant or a spell, I love him I love him I love him it matters it matters it matters I've got to try I've got to try -

And she found herself stumbling out of the alleyway in front of the dilapidated-looking café which was the false front of the Enchanted. What she planned to do next she couldn't say; she only knew that she couldn't sit idly by and just let this - event - happen.

Did she plan to stop it? Barge in at the age-old question, "Does anyone here have any reason these two shouldn't be joined?" announce, "I object!" and expect him to come running down the aisle to scoop her into his arms?

She'd been watching too many Muggle romance films.

The truth was that she honestly had no idea what she was doing.

She slipped into the café entrance, the magnificent hotel lobby materializing before her eyes. The whole place seemed deserted. Even the desk clerk was missing; Hermione checked her watch and started.

Three o'clock on the dot. How appropriate.

She sprinted across the lobby. She could hear music from the grand ballroom, the doorway was just around that next corner, if she remembered correctly -

Standing on either side of the huge double doors were guards. Of course. Well, they probably weren't guards in the traditional sense; probably something along the lines of - well - the Muggle term "bouncer" echoed inside her head.

And of course this was a guest list she was definitely not on.

No hope of trying to pretend to be someone else; she was too well known. There had to be another way in.

As quietly as she could, she made her way back up the corridor and back to the lobby. A small door with a sign that read "Employees Only" looked extremely promising.

Hermione slipped through the door without thinking of what might be on the other side. Her brain seemed to have shut off completely, actually; her only goal just now was to get into that ballroom. Whatever happened after that would take care of itself, somehow, she just knew she had to get that far.

On the other side of the door was a narrow hallway. Hermione followed it. The music was growing louder, and she could now tell what it was.

The Wedding March.

Her feet sped up of their own accord, she was racing down the hall toward the door at the end; somehow she knew that was the right door - she nearly collided with it. She could hear muffled voices now, the music had subsided.

Slowly, she cracked open the door.

The door opened just to the right of the front set of chairs; it appeared to be the door the priest and the groom's party had used to enter the ballroom. She could just see a tall, thin woman in a long, white dress and lacy veil.

Hermione's heart stopped completely and she shut the door with a snap. What the hell was she thinking? What did she think she was doing here, crashing this wedding, sneaking around, peeking through the cracks of doors, planning God knows what - this was madness.

She decided she would be happy with just one last look at him before she let him go forever. Just one last look, and it would be over. She would be fine.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she opened the door again, just a sliver.

Someone was standing directly on the other side of the door, looking back at her.

Hermione fainted dead away.

"Hermione? Wake up, Hermione," a smooth voice was saying from somewhere miles above her. She fought against the black waters that were holding her down; something about that voice was so familiar -

She came to with a start, eyes fluttering open and half sitting up before she realized what had happened.

Before she realized who was leaning over her.

"You probably should lie back down for a moment, Granger," he said, pushing her shoulders back down firmly. "You've fainted."

"Draco?"

"You were expecting the Minister of Magic? He's actually in the other room; I can get him if you'd like." A smirk played around the corners of his mouth. Even halfway conscious, Hermione couldn't help noticing how handsome he looked in his dress robes - and what the hell am I thinking? He's getting married, you idiot.

"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly, sitting up anyway, trying to smooth her robes and what was left of her dignity.

"I really should be asking you that, love," he replied with a chuckle, standing up and offering her a hand. Hermione's eyes flew open wide - if he was out here, that must mean that everyone in that other room knew she had just passed out at the sight of her ex-fiancé's wedding. This would be all over the Prophet tomorrow and she'd never live it down.

"I meant what are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be getting married?" Ignoring his proffered hand, she launched herself to her feet and felt her head spin. The room tilted a bit and she steadied herself on the wall.

"Are you sure you're all right? Do you need a glass of water or something?" Draco's hand was on her shoulder; he seemed to have missed her question, or else was ignoring it completely.

"I'm fine," she hissed, jerking her shoulder away. She took a breath and steadied her voice. "Look, I just came to…say goodbye, you know? You shouldn't be out here."

Draco's eyes were suddenly cold. "I thought you already said goodbye."

Hermione's heart gave a pang. "I thought I had, too," she replied simply.

The seconds were slipping by; why was no one looking for them yet? Hermione glanced nervously over Draco's shoulder at the door he'd come through.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'm waiting for people to start wondering where you are and why you aren't back yet."

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "They'll get on without me."

Hermione started. "Without the groom?"

Draco looked genuinely confused now. "Did you hit your head when you fell? What do you mean, 'the groom'?"

"You," Hermione practically growled at him.

To her immense surprise and utter frustration, Draco actually began to laugh.

"You - think - this is - haha - my wedding?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, halfway between being infuriated with him and being slightly worried he'd gone mad.

"Whose wedding is it, then?" she asked when he didn't stop laughing; he was now doubled over and clutching his sides.

"Mother and Father are renewing their vows," he managed to choke out, straightening up now and wiping his eyes. "I'm the best man," he added sardonically.

Hermione felt her legs give way again, but this time Draco caught her.

"You-you're not getting married, then?" she breathed. She was now beginning to doubt her own sanity; but if it was a dream, she wasn't sure she actually wanted to wake and go back to being sane.

"No," Draco said firmly. "Were you planning to object if I was?" he added with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"I have no idea what I meant to do," she replied honestly. She suddenly realized he was still holding her up and tried to set herself upright, but he tightened his grip on her.

"Not so fast, Granger," he murmured, pulling her closer and bringing their faces to the same level. "I've just discovered you lurking on the other side of a doorway, plotting to ruin my wedding. I think this means something."

Hermione gasped and tried to push him away, but he only held tighter.

"Do you know what I think it means?"

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing evenly, but she didn't answer.

"I think it means you love me. And I think it means that I am not going to let you run away from me this time. Because I can't wait around until the next time I'm about to get married in order to see you again." He chuckled. "You left your brains at the door and your heart brought you right here. And that's all that matters."

And he kissed her so thoroughly she wasn't able to think of a proper argument.

A/N - WHAT?! Trust me, I haven't lost my marbles completely. There will probably be two chapters after this one; if you couldn't tell, we're winding things up here. :) Thanks to everyone who is still reading this and has been here from the beginning...I know it's been a long, rather uninteresting ride, but I'm glad you've hung around.

Thanks to Dramione forever (anonymous reviewer) for shaming me and kicking me in the butt simultaneously. Whether you meant me by "the girl who starts stories but never finishes them," or you were talking about someone else, it hit home and I'm making a vow to finish every story I've started before the end of this year. Which, after this one, leaves "Deal With It" and POSSIBLY "Furnace," if that darned old plot won't go away and leave me alone. But I DO promise not to leave my stories unfinished forever.

Anyway, I know you're all dying to pelt me with reviews about how this chapter is OOC and, most importantly, doesn't make a lick of sense - there's a method to the madness, though, I guarantee - so I'll go now...ta ta!