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document.write(''); chapter three: And the Plot Thickens...

The next morning, Hermione was roused rather unceremoniously from her sleep by an animated Kimmy, who literally pounced on her bed and squealed that 'super fun wedding shopping' was about to begin. Groaning, Hermione obediently got dressed, wondering all the while how it was humanly possible for anyone to be so utterly cheerful at 7:00 in the morning.

As Hermione made her way down the stairs, she was surprised to find that no one else seemed to be awake save be Kimmy, who was waiting for her in the living room. Hermione felt suddenly, inexplicably nervous. " Isn't, um...isn't anyone else going?" she inquired in what she hoped was an off-handed voice.

" I thought we'd go, just the two of us this morning," Kimmy informed her, " so that we can catch you up on all your shopping. The others will join us in a few hours. Besides, I'd like to have a word with you alone."

*Oh, Merlin*, Hermione moaned inwardly. *She knows. She knows that I'm in love with Harry, and she's going to murder me and throw me in the Thames while everyone else is sleeping...*

Meanwhile, Kimmy had continued to babble on in the sort of way that is only forgivable when done by Barbie-like blondes. "...we'll have to travel by car, since we'll be going to Muggle stores. My parents are both Muggles, and they're dead set on my having a traditional wedding...you know how that is..."

They made their way out to the car, Hermione still not entirely certain that Kimmy wasn't going to suddenly scream "Avada Kadavra" at her and then laugh gleefully over her corpse. However, no curse was uttered, Kimmy took the wheel, Hermione reluctantly got in after her, and then they were off.

" Harry and you are very close," Kimmy said after a moment of uncomfortable silence as they sped toward London, " I know that. The entire wizarding world knows that, really. I read all those articles about you and Harry that Rita Skeeter wrote all those years ago--"

" Those were completely untrue," Hermione asserted quickly. " Rita had it in for both of us."

Kimmy nodded at this, as though she had been expecting that answer. " Yes, that's what Harry said. Still, so many of Harry's old friends keep sounding surprised when he announces he's engaged, and you're not his bride to be." She looked at Hermione pointedly.

Hermione felt a steady blush rising along her neck and spreading to her cheeks. "Kimmy, I don't know what to say. What is your point in telling me all of this?"

" My point," Kimmy explained, " is that I want you to know-no hard feelings."

It was so completely the opposite of what Hermione had been expecting to hear that she would have spit out her drink-- had she been drinking anything, that is. " Oh," she said finally, " thank you."

Kimmy seemed to not have heard her. " Harry has assured me time and time again that he doesn't have any feelings toward you-none, whatsoever-and that he never could."

Hermione glanced down to see if there was actually the handle of a blade protruding from her abdomen. The pain was so strong that she wouldn't have been all that surprised to see one there.

" Well," she said finally, " There you go."

If Kimmy noticed that she had just inflicted considerable pain on her bridesmaid to be, she didn't let on. " Here's the store!" she said in that same bubbly voice, pulling the car into a perfect parallel park that left Hermione gawking.

She ushered Hermione into the store with her, smiling familiarly at the clerk behind the counter. " Sasha! How are you?"

" Just divine," Sasha, a tall and very exotic-looking woman with dark hair and almond shaped eyes, returned. " You're looking lovely, as usual."

Kimmy smiled at this. " Why, thank you." She glanced over at Hermione, dragging her forward. " This is my maid of honor, Hermione."

Sasha stared at Hermione, seeming to have noticed her for the first time. She glanced from Kimmy to Hermione, and Hermione could only imagine the comparison that was being made. She suddenly felt horribly frumpy and lost in the masses of her still unwieldy hair.

" Oh," Sasha said finally. " Nice to meet you, Hermione."

From then on out, Sasha proceeded to ignore Hermione almost entirely. Every question she asked was directed toward Kimmy, and Kimmy answered on Hermione's behalf as though she wasn't even present.

" As you know," Kimmy informed Sasha, " I want all of my bridesmaids to have unique dresses that really display their personality." She stopped at a rack of dresses, pulling out a hideous, lime green number with puffy sleeves and yards of lace. " Oh, Hermione, this is so you..."

Hermione had just opened her mouth to object when Sasha pulled out a pale pink, collared number that rather resembled something Neville Longbottom's grandmother would wear. " This could work," she said, draping it over one arm.

They proceeded to pick out the ugliest, most hideous dresses that perhaps had ever been created. Hermione wondered idly why on earth anyone would make such dresses in the first place, unless they happened to be weapons of torture disguised as evening wear.

As Hermione glanced boredly around the shop, her gaze suddenly fell upon a shimmering, Champaign-colored dress on a corner rack. Wordlessly, she wandered over to it, fingering the fabric with almost reverent awe. When she checked the tag, she saw with some excitement that it was just her size.

" What about this one?" she inquired, glancing back at the others.

Kimmy and Sasha stared at her, seeming to have temporarily forgotten she was there. Composing themselves, they made their way over to where Hermione stood and eyed the dress appraisingly.

" Well, it is lovely," Kimmy began tentatively, " but..."

" What?" Hermione inquired.

Kimmy and Sasha exchanged a glance. " I don't know that it would work for you, dear," Sasha spoke up rather superciliously, " you don't, um, really have the body for it, if you know what I mean..."

Hermione felt her face flush with anger and embarrassment. Swallowing heavily, she raised her chin a fraction of an inch. " I'd like to try it all the same," she said tightly.

Sasha and Kimmy exchanged 'the poor frumpy girl is being difficult' looks and then forced smiles. " If you'd like," Kimmy returned finally.

A moment later, Hermione was in the dressing room. Fortunately, Sasha and Kimmy seemed to have other tasks to tend to, for they left her in there on her own. Fuming at the dozens of ugly dresses she had been presented with, Hermione pushed them defiantly aside and pulled off her clothes, slipping on the Champaign-colored gown.

She turned to glance at herself in the mirror and merely stared. It was as though she was an entirely different person. The warm color had brought out the subtle blonde highlights in her hair and made her skin and eyes absolutely glow. Her body, though perhaps not model-material, was being hugged in all the right places and looked positively stunning. She stared some more, not quite believing the transformation that had taken place.

A moment later, she heard muffled voices that she recognized as belonging to various members of the Weasley family. Still, she continued to stare at her reflection, embarrassed at how vain she was being but powerless to stop herself.

She slowly became aware that there seemed to be yelling coming from the other room, and she heard another distinct, familiar voice.

" Draco!" she realized, and hurried out to save him.

George and Fred Weasley had Draco by both arms, and he and Ron seemed to be involved in some verbal argument. Ginny was watching from the side, obviously torn between intervening and not revealing her particular attachment to that member of the Malfoy family. Draco glanced over and spotted Hermione, looking relieved.

" There you are," he snapped, still a bit peevish from his argument with Ron, "will you please tell these Weasley goons to get off me?"

The three Weasley brothers turned to face Hermione and gawked. Draco, seeming to have regained himself a bit, let his jaw drop open at the sight of her. Hermione glanced quickly at Kimmy and Sasha and was perversely pleased to see that they, too, were staring.

Self-consciously, she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. " What is it?" she inquired demurely, though she was fully aware of the sight that she made.

" That dress," Ginny breathed, " Oh, Hermione, it's perfect." She turned and glanced back at Kimmy. " Don't you think so?"

Kimmy's face was unreadable for a moment, and then she smiled, perhaps a bit too brightly. "Yes, of course. You'll have to wear that at the wedding, Hermione."

By this time, Draco had managed to snap his mouth shut, though he was still eying her appreciatively. " Yes, yes, the dress is lovely. Now can you tell these idiots to let me go?"

" Fred, George," Hermione implored.

Reluctantly, they released him, though Ron still looked rather upset about the entire thing. " What the devil are you doing here, Malfoy?" he snarled.

" As I've already explained," Draco snapped back irritably, " I'm here to see Hermione."

" I'll bet you are," Fred spoke up, his tone clearly hostile.

Ron folded his arms. " You probably heard about the wedding and decided to come ruin things with your unusual gift for making people queasy."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione intervened quickly. "Actually, I asked Draco to come see me," she said quickly, taking his hand-a gesture that wasn't lost on the Weasley boys, nor on Ginny. " I need to speak to him about...my article."

Ron looked taken aback by this, and Draco smiled smugly at him. " See?" he retorted, then turned to Hermione. " Can we speak in private, luv?"

Hermione led him back to the dressing room, shutting the door firmly behind her. Draco glanced around at the dresses still on their hangars, making a face. " Did Umbridge's closet throw up, or something?" he inquired.

" Now is not the time," Hermione reminded him, running a hand through her hair. " I'm going absolutely mad, Draco, and I think I might do something desperate."

Draco frowned at this. " Right, the letter. What was that all about, anyway? Errol woke me up at three in the morning."

Hermione sighed dramatically and began pacing the room. " You were right, Draco-you were right! Only, I didn't know it at the time, and now it's too late to do anything--"

Draco caught her by the arms and held her in place. " Hermione, really, you've been doing a frighteningly good impression of an insane person lately. Now tell me, what's going on?"

" I'm in love with Harry," she blurted out, and then covered her mouth quickly.

Draco stared at her. " Blast," he said finally, " I owe Ginny a galleon again."

" Not really the point!" Hermione hissed, sinking down to the ground. " Draco, what am I supposed to do?"

" For starters, you should stop ruining that dress by sitting on the ground," Draco informed her.

Hermione scrambled to her feet. Her heart might be breaking, but this was still the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen. She turned her back to Draco. " Here, unzip me."

Draco grinned gamely and complied. " Anything else?"

" Turn around."

The smile disappearing from his face, Draco turned his back to her and proceeded to focus on a particularly ugly dress as Hermione changed back into her own clothing. When she was done, she turned him back around.

" Well?" she inquired.

" You have a bit of mustard on your shirt," Draco pointed out.

Hermione glared at him. " I meant about Harry. What am I supposed to do?"

Draco sighed. " Oh, right. Well, I suppose what you first have to consider is why you're in love with Harry. Have you really been harboring a crush on him all these years, or are you just jealous that some new chick is moving into your territory?"

Hermione chewed her lip, really considering this. " I wish it was just some fleeting jealousy thing," she said finally, " but being with Harry yesterday, feeling his arms around me...How could I have been so stupid for so long, Draco? I must have loved him for ages, but I didn't realize it until five days before his wedding!"

" That does make things rather difficult," Draco pointed out.

Hermione stared at her hands glumly. " The real question is, could he ever feel the same way about me? Do I risk losing his friendship, or do I sit by and watch him marry someone else?"

Draco was silent for a moment, then reached out for her. " Come here," he said, drawing her into his embrace. " Listen, Granger, I'm only gonna say this once, so you better pay attention: you are one heck of a woman. You're smart and funny and sexy as anything, and Harry would have to be a real idiot not to see that."

" But what about Kimmy?" Hermione murmured into his shirt. " Harry loves her...he wants to marry her. But if there's a chance that he could ever love me...Oh, I'm so confused."

" Love can be that way," Draco mused, then quickly added, " Not that I'm speaking from experience, of course. But I hear that it can be quite puzzling."

" You have no idea."

Draco pulled back and smiled down at her. " Go for it," he urged abruptly. "Take a chance."

Hermione returned the smile. " Really?"

Before Draco could reply, there was a knock on the door. " Hermione?" came Harry's muffled voice. " Are you all right? I heard that you were in here with..." He pushed the door open to find Hermione in Draco's embrace. " Malfoy," he finished finally.

Hermione moved away from Draco quickly. " Harry, hi." She glanced over at Draco. " I can explain..."

And she opened her mouth to do just that, to explain that Draco was only a friend. But suddenly, her brain seemed to disconnect itself from the rest of her body, and her mouth was opening and her hand was gripping Draco's and she was saying, " Draco and I are engaged."

In the moment of silence that ensued, Hermione's brain miraculously returned to its original spot, and she realized with sudden horror what she had just done.

*Oh...CRAP.*

***

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