"So, what do you think?"
Harry waited, surveying his audience expectantly, not knowing who would be first to respond.
"I think it's marvelous," Molly Weasley said at last. "I know it can't be easy for Hermione, being part of two worlds, each one so different from the other."
"No, indeed," Arthur agreed, sipping gingerly from a goblet of elderflower wine. "It's really quite generous of you, Harry."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, holding tightly onto Harry's arm with both hands, "it is. When he told me his idea, I was speechless."
"And when's the last time that happened?" Harry grinned, trying to cover his embarrassment with humor. Hermione responded with a sharp stab of her finger into his ribs, eliciting a yelp from Harry and laughter from the Weasleys.
"How about you, Ron?" Harry asked, rubbing his bruised rib as Hermione snuggled close in apology, giggling silently.
"Right!" Ron said cheerfully, popping a last bit of wedding cake into his mouth (saved just moments before the buffet table vanished) and licking his fingers clean. "Sounds like a bash. Wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons."
"And don't give a thought to time off," Arthur added with assurance. "I'll swing it with the Ministry, never you fear."
Ron continued to lick his fingers, seemingly oblivious to a dollop of icing lingering at the corner of his mouth. But Molly, whose shrewd eyes missed nothing, quickly conjured a damp cloth and lunged toward her son's face with a speed that would have shamed a striking cobra.
"Blimey, Mum!" Ron exclaimed, recoiling. "You can't keep doing that! I'm not a little kid any more!" Ron's indignation was all the more pointed, coming as it did from a height that was easily the equal of his father's.
But Molly was having none of it. "I'm still your mother," she snapped. "And I don't care if you grow as old as Dumbledore and as tall as Hagrid, I'll always be your mother! Now stand still before a put a Body-Bind on you!"
Harry and Hermione nodded to Arthur and made a hasty retreat, withholding their laughter until their lungs ached.
They found Hermione's parents engaged in conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall, and as snatches of the exchange came to their ears, Hermione felt her cheeks go slightly pink. She heard her name mentioned repeatedly, and from the way that her parents were beaming, she surmised that the two professors were recounting some of Hermione's scholastic triumphs from the past seven years. Harry realized this as well, and he squeezed his new bride's hand.
"I married the smartest witch at Hogwarts," he said in a low voice. "So how smart does that make me?"
Hermione had no time to reply, for her mother had spotted them and thrown her arms wide to receive them.
After disengaging herself from her mother's embrace, Hermione said, "Mum...Dad...Harry and I have an announcement to make. "It's sort of a wedding present...from us, to you."
Dumbledore's snowy eyebrows leaped upward.
"It was my understanding," the old wizard said in surprise, "that the bride and groom receive presents on their wedding day, they do not bestow them. Or is this some purely Muggle tradition of which I am unaware?"
"In a way," Harry said. "Maybe it will become a new tradition."
Hermione, standing once more with her arm around Harry, said, "Mum, Dad, it was so wonderful of you to be here today. I know that, even after seven years, the wizarding world still seems a bit strange to you, maybe even a little frightening."
The Grangers seemed momentarily nonplussed, suddenly aware not only of their unusual mode of dress, but of the precise nature of the two professors with whom they had been conversing. They smiled warmly at their daughter.
"We couldn't miss the biggest day in our little girl's life, now could we?" Mrs. Granger said, her face positively glowing. "We both love you so much..."
"So much," Hermione said, "that you both wore wizard's robes so you'd fit in properly. For me.
"But -- it's not exactly what you envisioned whenever you thought about this day for the last eighteen years, is it?"
The Grangers exchanged a quick, sidewise glance, uncertain how to respond without insulting their hosts, who had treated them with every kindness they could have asked. Hermione sensed their predicament, speaking quickly as she concluded:
"And that's why Harry and I have decided to get married twice!"
The Grangers' eyes widened as they looked from Hermione to Harry and back again.
"Since you were good enough to participate in a wizard wedding," Harry said now, "it seems only right that Hermione and I should also have a Muggle wedding. That way, you'll be able to introduce us to all your friends and relatives as a proper married couple. We'll also avoid a lot of awkward questions. Just because Aunt Petunia isn't around, that doesn't mean someone might not be peeking over the garden fence when you're not looking."
"It also means," Hermione added, "that Harry and I will have two anniversaries. The first, today, we'll celebrate with our magical friends. And the second, whatever day it turns out to be, we'll celebrate with you."
The Grangers both appeared to be too overjoyed to speak, but the light in their faces needed no qualification.
"There will be one other wizard in the wedding party," Harry said. "I can't get married without Ron as Best Man. The three of us have been through too much together. But the Maid of Honor will be Hermione's choice entirely."
"Oh," Mrs. Granger suddenly said. "Oh...my..."
"What?" Harry said. He turned to Hermione, only to find her face a reflection of her mother's.
"I have two cousins," Hermione explained. "One on Dad's side, one on Mum's side. And each is convinced that she and only she is going to be my Maid of Honor. I'd completely forgotten. If I choose either one, the other will be devastated."
Harry pondered for a moment.
"Let me ask you," he said, a meditative finger upon his lips. "Do you have a preference? One you would definitely choose over the other?"
"Well," Hermione admitted, "yes."
Nodding sagely, Harry looked up at Dumbledore.
"Pr -- Albus. You don't suppose we could...bend the rules a bit...just this once?"
"A Memory Charm?" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily behind his half-moon spectacles. "I think something can be arranged."
Harry and Hermione both smiled. The Grangers' reaction remained unvoiced, for at that moment, to everyone's surprise, the sunny sky overhead began to darken.
"That's odd," Hermione said. "The WWN didn't mention rain. Was there anything on telly this morning, Mum?"
"Not a word," Mrs. Granger said.
Suddenly Dumbledore smiled broadly, his long fingers shading his eyes as he looked up. The others followed his gaze. The Grangers looked puzzled, but the rest emulated Dumbledore's delighted expression.
"Come, Harry, Hermione," Dumbledore said. "Let us go and receive our 'guests'."
Author's Note: I'm glad this story continues to entertain, despite its obvious shortcomings. Impatience is my curse, and and it is never more evident than when I try to write romance. My direct style is better suited for straightforward drama, with which I am much more comfortable. This story is not my usual fare, but it virtually demanded to be written, so here we are.
Aside to Enter Name: No, I am not a teacher (how does that Hogwarts tie taste?). But I admit that I seem to have developed a teacher's mindset over time. Whenever I download a story, I can't help making corrections for spelling, grammar and punctuation. Ah, well. It keeps me off the streets.
Again, thanks to all who are still hanging in there. The final phase of the celebration is about to begin. Stick
around, won't you? The fun is just beginning.