When or how it had happened, Hermione wasn’t sure. But it was Saturday morning, the morning of their wedding. It was the end of October and there was a bite in the air that made it a little chilly outside, but not unbearable. She hadn’t even looked at her dress yet. Luna had picked something out that was custom made to her measurements in a day. Hermione didn’t even want to think about the seamstress that Draco had either paid off, threatened or both to make that happen.