Chapter Two-- The Wedding Planner
The entire table seemed to be in a state of shock. "What??" they all asked in unison.
Harry grinned. "I met her in Albania. Well, I should say I ran into her in Albania. She was with us at Hogwarts."
Hermione felt her stomach tighten. 'Please, not Cho Chang,' she silently pleaded. She had never liked the Ravenclaw, and she thought that the way she'd treated Harry had been abysmal.
Harry peered at their puzzled faces. "Her name is Hannah," he chuckled, "Hannah Abbott."
Nobody said a word.
"Well, gee mates, aren't you going to say anything?" came Harry's annoyed voice. "Not a 'congratulations' or a 'way to go' or a 'Potter, you dog' or even a 'you're making the biggest mistake of your life'?"
"You're making the biggest mistake of your life," came the unified response. Harry scowled.
"You guys haven't even met her! Or I should say, haven't even gotten reacquainted with her. She's really terrific!"
"I remember her as being a nice girl," conceded Ron, "But the thing is Harry...you've only been gone two months. You're saying that you're ready to marry this girl?"
"Yes," replied Harry firmly.
"Harry, I'm sure Hannah's great," began Ginny.
"She is!" insisted Harry.
"Potter," said Draco in the gentlest tone Hermione had ever heard him use, "There's no rush. You're barely twenty-three!"
"You guys don't understand!" exploded Harry. "I've spent the last twelve years fighting evil wizards. Do you know what happened in Albania? I caught the last remaining group of Death Eaters. That's it. I'm done."
The others gaped at him. He had only been on the Death Eater cases for a year, after he had spent his first year proving himself. Hermione thought it was ironic that Voldemort's killer had to spend a year "paying dues", but Harry had wanted to be treated like everyone else.
"In a year?" whispered Neville, awestruck. "You captured all the Death Eaters a year?"
"Yes," replied Harry quietly. "And now I'm going to retire from the Ministry and settle down for a nice, peaceful, unexciting life. Maybe I'll play Quidditch."
"I understand where you're coming from, Harry," put in Luna, "But that doesn't mean you have to get married right away. If you like Hannah--"
"Love," interrupted Harry. "I love Hannah."
Hermione felt her insides do a queasy backflip at these words.
"Fine. If you love Hannah, then there is no reason why you two can't date and just take things slowly," concluded Luna logically.
"If I love Hannah, there's no reason why we should go slowly. If there's one thing the war taught me, it's that none of us know how much time we have. I know I love her, and she loves me. Why shouldn't we get married?"
Everyone began turning to the others, as if looking for someone who could convince Harry what a daft prat he was being.
"Harry, you're being a daft prat," said Draco calmly. Hermione internally cheered.
Harry began to argue, but Malfoy held up a silencing hand. "No, listen to me. What you are doing is irresponsible. Everybody knows that the first few months are the easiest in a new relationship. After that, it's hard to hold on to your composure, and you start seeing the other person's flaws. All we're saying is that you should make sure Hannah has flaws you can live with forever, that's all."
Harry suddenly broke into a smile. "Is that what you're all worried about? That I won't be happy?" He laughed and there were a few confused chuckles from his friends.
"It's not as if we plan on running out and getting married tomorrow, for Merlin's sake. We're just engaged, it's a step to illustrate our seriousness. But ," Harry paused and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "We've talked about when the wedding should be and--" He broke off, shifting in his seat.
"And what, Harry?" asked Ginny.
"We were talking about weddings, and I mentioned how Hermione always thought it would be brilliant to get married during the northern lights...you know, the Aurora Borealis? And Hannah thought that was the most romantic thing she'd every heard..."
Hermione visibly paled. She knew what was coming.
"So what?" asked Ron.
"Well, the Aurora Borealis only really come every eleven years..."
"And they happen to fall this winter," whispered Hermione.
She knew this information was accurate, because it had saddened her immensely when she'd first heard it. It meant that if she wanted her own wedding during the amazing particle storm that created the northern lights, she either had to get married this winter, highly unlikely, or she had to wait eleven years, even more unlikely.
"This winter?" asked Neville. "But Harry, it's already September. That means you've got about six months or so to plan a wedding and...even then, you'll only have been dating Hannah for about nine months."
"It's what Hannah wants," said Harry stubbornly.
'Yeah,' thought Hermione angrily, 'It's what Hannah wants because she's too uncreative to think of her own ideas and she stole mine! She was a Hufflepuff, for crying aloud!' Then Hermione felt disgusted with herself. Hannah had always been nice to her, and after all, it wasn't her fault that Harry had mentioned Hermione's wedding fantasy.
'Why were they talking about me anyway?' wondered Hermione.
"Well, and I also mentioned that you plan weddings, Hermione..."
"You plan weddings?" choked Ron. "Since when?" he asked gleefully.
"Oh, shut it," mumbled Hermione. Harry had promised not to tell!
"Oops," the Auror clamped a hand over his mouth. "I forgot that was a secret, Mione."
"What is he talking about, Granger?" asked Malfoy, raising an eyebrow. She stifled the urge to laugh. She and Draco had dated briefly in seventh year, and he had called her by her surname the entire time.
'Guess that should've been a sign it wasn't going to work out,' Hermione thought ruefully. She sighed aloud.
"My job working in the Muggle liaison office," she explained, her face tinted pink, "Is to plan weddings for wizards or witches marrying Muggles. The idea is to allow the witch or wizard to invite their family and friends and keep their own traditions without letting it be obvious to the Muggle guests that attend. That's where I come in. I," she paused, then shrugged, " am the Wedding Planner," she finished, giving a little seated bow.
"You mean to tell me you went through four years at Weston Wizarding University to plan weddings?" asked Ginny incredulously.
"I happen to have degrees in both Muggle Studies and Transfiguration," replied Hermione haughtily. "I chose to work for the Ministry because I wanted to help people. Besides, someone has got to do it, and it's a lot more difficult than it sounds. You have to be extremely organized and creative."
"Oh, I believe you," said Luna supportively. Hermione suppressed a groan. She loved Luna dearly, but the woman still only believed in things without any evidence.
Draco hid a smirk. "Well, then, Miss Granger," he said, "I believe that our good friend Harry here was in the middle of asking you to plan his wedding."
Hermione turned to Harry, realizing that he had, indeed, talked about her job, which meant that he had been asking her something....
Harry was nodding. "Hannah and I want you to plan the wedding."
Hermione couldn't decide whether to be flattered or sick, so she settled for logic.
"But Hannah's not a Muggle-born," she pointed out.
"True, but we all know that you're the best at whatever you do, and we want the best," said Harry earnestly. "I've already talked to Arthur Weasley, and he says he can give this to you as part of your duties." He paused. "I guess being the bloody Boy-Who-Lived does have advantages sometimes!"
A thought was occurring to Hermione. "If you two want to have your wedding under the northern lights, then that means you'll want the best place to see them..."
Harry smiled, letting the girl work it out for herself, as she undoubtedly would.
"Then you'd have to be in Scotland....Harry, do you want to get married at Hogwarts?"
He grinned. "Got it in one, Mione. Albus already gave us permission."
The girl looked pleased with herself.
"Hannah also wants you to be the maid of honor, if you can do both," added Harry.
The entire table gaped at him.
"What??" everyone asked for the second time that evening.
"Mm-me?" stuttered the curly-haired witch. "Why me? I haven't seen her in five years! Not since Hogwarts!"
"She hasn't got any close female friends, and she's got two sisters, so she's making them her bridesmaids. She still needs a maid of honor." He turned to Ron for a moment. "By the way, mate, you're the best man," he said.
"Oh, Merlin," mumbled Ginny.
Hermione felt really, really nauseous. Her head ached and her stomach felt twisted up and....
She jumped out of the chair and ran towards the loo, but it was too late. She vomited all over the floor.
"Can I take that as a yes?" Harry asked, looking around the table.
"Potter, for once in your life, hold your tongue," instructed Malfoy.
For the first time...well, ever, everyone agreed with Malfoy.