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Hermione:This was absolutely not how this was supposed to happen.No, this moment was meant to be magical. A culmination of years of love and devotion specifically for HER.
So why was she standing on top of a red heart-shaped platform like a doll on display at one of the toy shops that lined the very alley that this display was happening at?Hermione blinked rapidly, partially because the pink and red heart-shaped fireworks behind her, combined with the relentless flashing of photographers were blinding, and partially out of sheer shock. It had been mere moments since Ron had led her out of Flourish and Blotts and into this absolute mess of a spectacle.
Ron cleared his throat. A sheen of sweat covered his freckled forehead and a goofish smile, now forced, plastered on his face.
“So..” he said from his kneeling position, “what do you say ‘Mione?”
She stared at him, and at the ring sitting prettily in the bright red, also heart-shaped box.
It was silver.
She exclusively wore gold.
Did he really pay so little attention to her?As she took a shaky breath, the mob of people that had gathered around the photographers grew larger and larger. People slowly left the shops and restaurants lining Diagon Alley to gawk at the spectacle of Ronald Weasley proposing to Hermione Granger. Her mind flashed to what tomorrow's Prophet would no doubt publish. “Star Auror Ronald Weasley and Wizarding London’s Golden Girl Engaged!”She looked down at Ron one more time, who was now sweating profusely. His eyes practically pleading with her to break the silence.
No, this was all too overwhelming, and definitely NOT anything close to what she had shown in intense detail during the vision board night she had with Ginny, which she had happened to leave with the overly excited witch so that Molly and therefore Ronald, would see her vision.The crowd was murmuring and she could hear them now. Her heart rate was quick and her hands were shaking as she pulled out her wand. It felt heavy in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Ron, and she apparated away, leaving a stunned Weasley to deal with the onslaught of now-frantic photographers.
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Hermione:1 week before:Hermione furiously paced the floor of her study. Her practical black heels made a resounding “click click click” through the otherwise silent room. Her mind was elsewhere, yet she avoided the piles deftly, by habit. A stack of books on the history of merpeople here, a pile of legislative drafts on setting the minimum wage of the newly freed house elves there. All of them had their place. She glanced nervously at the door every couple of paces. Why hadn’t they called her in yet?As she cast her (now 5th) cooling charm over herself a bright white stag pranced through her door and danced around her. Harry’s detached voice echoed from the stag, “We’re ready for you now”.A pang of fear shot through her. She took a deep breath, smoothed the already flawlessly pressed black dress robes, and cast her 6th cooling charm before heading down to the atrium to stand in front of the Wizengamot.The air in the magical lift was cool (thank Godrick), but slightly damp, and smelled of parchment and magical ink. From her office in The Department for the Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures and Beings, the ride was around 5 minutes. Far too long of a ride for Hermione's mind to be still. She raced back through her memories with the Wizengamot. Cormac's uncle “Lord McLaggen” held a powerful position. The head of the Department of Magical Transportation was the only person she had personally offended. Not even on purpose, mind you. It was not her fault that his slimy nephew couldn’t keep his hands to himself after one too many fire whiskey. It was also not her fault that she was gifted with a very accurate right hook.As she wondered if she could bring up the Ministries severely lacking HR policies on workplace harassment, the lift stopped suddenly, throwing her off balance.As the doors opened she clutched the thick stack of parchment in her hands a little harder. She was over-prepared, really, but the physical notes helped ease her anxiety either way.The atrium that housed the Wizengamot was large, and this was an understatement. She stood on the floor of the atrium and the half circles of seating went on and up as high as she could see. It made a person feel very small. Probably designed for that very purpose.She quickly closed the distance between herself and the ornate podium that stood directly in front of the Chief Warlock himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt.He smiled down at her from his plush purple velvet chair, and she took a deep breath to begin her speech.“I stand before you all today, humbled. I thank you all in advance for the time you’re investing here today and..”“While I have no doubt that your speech will be brilliant,” interrupted Shaklebolt “I think you’d like to hear what we have to say first.” The older wizard gestured to the witch sitting to his right. She stood, unravelling a scroll.“We are pleased to announce that Hermione Jean Granger has secured an absolute majority of votes in this nomination process. This outcome reflects the trust and confidence that our community places in her leadership abilities.As such, Hermione Jean Granger is now an official candidate for the next Minister for Magic."As thunderous applause broke throughout the room Hermione stood stunned, staring at Kingsley. He beamed at her as he stood with the rest of the Wizengamot and applauded. Then, in a wave of motion, witches and wizards descended upon her, shaking her hand and patting her on the back and giving their congratulations and best wishes. It wasn’t until Harry appeared before her with a beaming smile on his face that she broke into tears.
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Draco:1 Week Before:Salazar above she was fit now? When the bloody hell had that happened?Even from his low-level “Junior Member” DMLE seat in the atrium (which ironically was very high and not close enough to the main floor for his liking) he could see she had become.. Shapely.Not that this was any concern to him, no. Wizarding London’s most eligible bachelor had much better things to think about other than the faint curve of Granger's calf in those heels.He didn’t understand why his presence was necessary. He was only a Junior Member of the Wizengamot, an honorary title that heads of task forces held in the DLME. Potter and Tonks held the only two seats that mattered. As Senior and Head for their department theirs were the only votes that counted. He was there purely for show, or tradition, depending on who you asked.Most of the time he didn’t mind being privy to the political gossip that grew from this atrium, but today there were other places he’d prefer to be.Most notably Nott’s 28th birthday party.Which had started around 30 minutes ago.It was strictly against his upbringing to show up unfashionably late for a party. Especially his best mate's birthday party.Draco and Theo had grown close after the war. Both boys left relatively to their own defenses after their parents' sentencing, they had a dark sort of loneliness to bond over. It helped that they were both filthy rich. After both of Theo’s parents had been taken to Azkaban for life, he essentially became Britain's wealthiest orphan. While Draco eventually had the comfort of his mothers presence in the huge manor after she finished her mandatory inpatient “sentence” at St. Mungos, Theo would never get to see his parents again. He essentially became “Britain's Wealthiest Orphan” as Witch's Weekly coined him. And Britain’s Wealthiest Orphan loved to throw a party. This year's theme was “Olympus: A Party for the Gods”. He of course spared no expense, he didn’t have to.The only people richer than the Nott’s were the Malfoys, and Draco was prepared to make that abundantly clear with the gift he had planned for Theo.There were of course not supposed to be any gifts, Godrick above knew Nott didn’t need them. However, Draco liked to show off.So he had purchased his friend the most expensive outrageous gift he could think of. He bought his friend a car. A muggle car. The most expensive one he could find. A Bugatti Veyron 16.4 to be exact. Then he had it custom painted a dark forest green (for Slytherin pride of course) and charmed by a magical mechanic to fly as fast as it can drive. A very expensive gift which he couldn’t wait to show up in.If only this whole affair could wrap up a little quicker.He’d been there since 7 in the morning, which was torture in itself to wake up that early on a Saturday, and he was stuck listening to nomination after nomination for the running of the next Minister of Magic. Some of the nominees were really quite competent. Seraphina Hawkewood, for example, who was the long standing head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She delivered her speech perfectly, all while staring down Kingsley with her (ironically) beady hawk-like eyes. Draco found her delightfully intimidating, and she was a legend in the Ministry on top of that. Her lightning quick response to the 1994 Quidditch World Cup disaster not only solidified her role as Head of the DMAC but also saved countless lives.A rare sight indeed- competency in the ministry. She was the polar opposite of McLaggen, who was nominated despite the sauce stain on his robe and his lack of preparation. Not that this mattered in his case. His uncle had secured his space behind closed doors. Draco only knew this because he watched the burly man flee Tonk’s office with a myriad of hexes on his tail. Idiocy must run in the family.And now, half past 6, they were finally on their final candidate. Wizarding London’s Golden Girl. Freer of house elves and representative to the underrepresented. It was no surprise there had been little to no pushback on the nomination of one Hermione Granger.As she cleared her throat and began her opening remarks, voice magically amplified, she was interrupted by Kingsley and his secretary, informing her that she had been almost unanimously voted into the running.As if there was a world where she would have been denied.The crowd of the Wizengamot streamed down to congratulate the newest nominee, and Draco took the opportunity to make a hasty exit.