Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I know it's been over 4 months since I updated, but I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write. Someone else had already written a story very similar to the direction I initially intended to go, so I had to come up with something different. I still don't know where this is going to go either, but I feel more confident about writing now, and I hope it's slightly better written then my first chapter. Thank you to those who reviewed, it meant the world and a special thanks to hogwarts-hottie, who really seemed to love it. Disclaimer is in the first chapter. P.S. I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.
Chapter Two
This was it, the moment I'd been waiting for.
The dress was perfect. Stunning, elegant, ethereal, exactly the dress I always imagined I would wear on this day.
The flowers were beyond beautiful, white tulips were littered and blossoming throughout the hall. Ivy tresses were hanging on the stone walls; white ribbons were sashayed across the ceiling.
The guests were seated, all accounted for, and eager for the ceremony to commence. Happy, shiny, faces stared back at me as I took in my surroundings, a blissful sigh escaping my lips.
But all of it paled in comparison as I looked upon the man standing next to me.
The One.
The man I was about to marry; the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
He must have felt me staring at him, as he turned is head and gave me his I-love-you smiles.
I lived for those smiles.
I had no choice but to return the gesture, and I did it gladly. His gorgeous green eyes took on a shiny hue that indicated he was holding back some tears, so he returned his gaze to the vicar.
Mine followed suit as I took in the vicar before me, trying to listen and understand the words he was saying.
Everything he said sounded as if he were speaking underwater. Not one sentence made sense to me. I watched as he directed his speech towards my fiancé. He must have understood as him, as he answered with an 'I do', accompanied by a small head nod.
The vicar turned his attention towards me. Again, I couldn't decipher his words, but when he stopped speaking, an expectant look upon his face, the feel of dozens of anxious eyes staring at me, my darling husband-to-be included, I also answered with an 'I do'.
That was obviously the right thing to say as I could hear a few expelled breaths from behind me, my fiancé's grip on my hand tightened in what must have been relief.
My own relief dimmed as I could hear, in perfect, clear, English, what the vicar was saying next.
"If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully married, speak now or forever hold your peace".
Silence filled the room. Tense seconds went by, anxious eyes glancing around for any possible sign of disruption.
Seemingly satisfied, the vicar once again began his speech.
"Then by..."
BANG!!!
BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!!
Oh god, who was that? Why were they ruining my wedding day? Didn't they understand this was the most special, important day of my life?
BANG!!!
"GO AWAY!!!" I hollered as loud as I could to the now empty hall.
What the hell, where did everybody go?
"Harry?" I called to my now disappeared fiancé.
"Harry, where are you?" my fretful voice echoed throughout the vacant room.
BANG!
*******************************
It was the last bang that did it, as I now find myself half-awake with an empty bottle in my hand, and a good chunk of pillow in my mouth. And drool; let's not forget the lovely drool that had left a wet patch on said pillow.
Oh good grief, my head felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it, then a drill, and for good measure a wrecking ball. I swear, when I find the inconsiderate bastard who was making that noise, I was going to kill him. Ruin that wonderful dream of mine will you? Oh yes...you will pay!
Untangling and flinging back the twisted covers that had me in its grasp, I blearily stumbled out of bed, and promptly fell on the floor.
Okay, not good.
Using techniques almost worthy of a senior citizen with a hip replacement problem, I managed to crawl my way back up on the bed.
Round two.
My second attempt went much better then my first, and I made it in one piece (and no minor injuries) to my bedroom door. Upon opening it, I noticed a mouth-watering smell wafting from the direction of the kitchen. Unable to resist, I followed the scent and discovered Ron at the kitchen table serving up fresh ground coffee in a cafetiere, and to my stomach and taste buds delight, fresh Danish cinnamon rolls...with icing.
Now, I don't know about you, but my opinion is, a Danish cinnamon roll just isn't the same without icing. Sure it still tastes wonderful, but without the icing, it just doesn't have the same affect in the taste factor.
Ron had noticed my arrival, and as his expression switched from greeting to abject horror and shock in a span of two seconds, I figured my appearance wasn't up to it's usual standard.
"What the hell happened to you?" he cried at me, the initial shock fading from his face.
"I spent the evening with a new friend, Jack Daniels" I replied in a dry tone. I meandered my way to the table, and swiped one of the Danishes from its plate and stuffed half of it into my mouth. Bliss.
Ron settled into the chair opposite me, and took a cinnamon roll for himself.
"Jack Daniels? That's unexpected, I always thought you were 'just a butterbeer for me thanks' girl" he said in a slightly amused tone, the corner of his mouth turned up a touch. I reached for the coffee, and poured some into the available mug Ron had placed, remembering my manners I tipped some into his mug as well.
"Yes, well...desperate times call for desperate measures," I said in a deprecating tone. Suddenly remembering why I was sitting here in the first place, I asked quite angrily "What was that bloody banging I heard earlier, was it you?"
Ron, taken aback slightly from my switch in behaviour answered quickly "It wasn't me. I noticed that next door are moving out, they've been making loads of noise all day. I don't know what the bloody hell they're doing over there, but one would have thought they would give some consideration to their neighbours".
Well, that took the angry wind out of my sails. I reached for my mug and took a sip of the steaming hot liquid. The bitterness melts some of the earlier disorientation from the night before. Taking another roll from the plate I bit into it.
"What time is it?" I asked with my mouth full of pastry.
"About half one, I didn't know when you would be up and around, so I took the liberty of owling your work and telling them you wouldn't be coming in today," he informed me, taking a gentle sip of his own coffee.
"Thank you", I replied gratefully and with some relief. I knew I couldn't work today, my mind would not have been co-operative.
"So what happened after I left?" I asked in regards to Harry's reception I had fled from the night before.
Harry. He was married now. Some part of me still refused to believe it, but the absence of his presence in the house soon put to rest that small spark of hope.
"Not much", Ron answered, shrugging his shoulders. "People drank themselves into a stupor, there was some snogging on the dance floor, the bridesmaids were twittering about how beautiful the bride looked for a good few hours. I thought maybe one of them might be interested in me, seeing as I was the best man and everything, but not a bloody glimmer of interest. Too bad, they were really fit".
Normally the feminist in me would rear its ugly head at that remark, but I really couldn't be buggered this morning, so I let it pass.
"Are you okay?" he asked me, concern seeping into his voice. I looked up from the table and answered truthfully.
"No, not really. Apart from the hangover from hell, and the pounding jackhammer right behind my eyes, yesterday I saw the love of my life marry another woman. So, no Ron, I'm not okay, right at this precise moment in time I don't think I ever will be again".
He gave a small sigh, but said nothing.
We finished off the rest of coffee and rolls in silence. That suited me fine.
*******************************
When three o'clock rolled around, I was still in pyjamas and munching my way through a bag of Doritos, the television blaring out whiny, high-pitched, happy voices.
Children's shows should be banned I mused.
They're hardly educational anymore, I mean, what could a child learn by watching four, giant, brightly coloured puppets prancing around saying things like "la-la"?
Digging the remote out from underneath all the empty packets of crisps and sweets, I changed the channel. Something worse came on...daytime talk shows.
And what was today's story?
'My Husband/Boyfriend/Partner left me for another woman'.
Perfect.
Just what I needed to see, a thought that was laced with sarcasm.
"At least you had them to begin with!" I yelled at the screen; as this was a normal everyday muggle television, I didn't recieve an answer back.
Grabbing the remote again, I violently pushed the off button, and the room was silent once more. A little too silent for my liking.
Ron had left half an hour earlier; he had Quidditch practice with his team, but was reluctant to leave me. I convinced him that I was okay on my own, and that he should leave for his meet. On his way out he gave me a hard hug and told me he loved me.
And also to get out of the pyjamas and put some clothes on for 'Merlin's sake'.
Needless to say, I didn't.
Glancing around the living room, I took in the mess I was making. Empty glasses were littered on the coffee table, along with empty packets of 'really bad things I shouldn't be eating' that were starting to smother me. With a wave of my wand that I 'accioed' from my bedroom, a simple 'scourgify' had the place looking spick and span again.
No evidence was left of my desperate comfort food munchies. Well... except for the gluttonous and slothly slug I was becoming still in my pj's at three o'clock in the afternoon.
I pushed myself off the sofa and headed towards my room, my goal; to shower, get dressed in some proper attire...and after that I had no clue.
As I reached my door I took a glance at the cork notice board we had hung in the hallway.
Brochures of tropical paradises were pinned to it. These were Harry's. He wanted to take Anne somewhere she had never been before and I suggested the tropics.
Yes, me.
He had come home late one night, I was still up reading some paperwork on new healing medicines and procedures, when he came bounding into the kitchen, a smile blossoming on his face when he saw me.
God I love his smile, I had thought.
"Hermione you're up, good, I was hoping I could have a word", he asked me, sitting himself down on a chair.
"You can have as many as you like", I jokingly replied.
He smiled again, and I swear something inside me melted, probably something vital.
"If you could choose to go anywhere in the world that you haven't been to, where would you go?" he asked, his eyes were glimmering with excitement.
I had pondered for a few moments, and searched my brain for some of the places I would have liked to visit, given the chance.
"Mmm, I don't know, probably somewhere tropical, Barbados or somewhere else in the Caribbean maybe. Get away from the grey and rainy weather we've been having for a while. Of course that's for relaxation purposes. If I were to go on holiday for something a little more intellectually stimulating...Rome maybe? Look at the art and ruins, visit Pompeii, and have a wonder around. Does that answer your question?" I answered, giving him a small smile.
It must have, as he nodded his head and thanked me.
We said goodnight to one another, and I went back to my reading, silently wondering why he wanted to know where I would like to go on holiday?
Was he going to ask me to go with him somewhere? Maybe he thought we both needed a break from work, and decided we should go somewhere, get away for a while?
As I finished reading a paragraph about herbology, and the new medicinal plants that had been discovered, my mind raced with possibilities.
Little did I know what his real intentions were.
That was the day before he had proposed to Anne. He wanted to take her on honeymoon to somewhere she had never been.
And I had given him the suggestion of the tropics.
That's where they are now, no doubt sipping cocktails out of coconuts through bendy straws, and swinging deliriously in hammocks, basking in each others presence, I thought bitterly.
To hell with them, to hell with them both!
Enough is enough; I can't keep doing this. Harry is gone, married, in love with another woman, and here I am moping that he's with her on their honeymoon in a country I wanted to see with him.
Looking over the brochures and remembering the conversation we had, I made a decision. A rash decision I admit, but a decision nonetheless.
I was going to leave for a while. Clear my head, have a holiday of my own. I had enough savings (true, they were for a house I had planned on buying one day when Harry and I were married) but that dream is over now. Gone.
With determination I marched into my room and dragged my suitcase from under my bed. Blowing off the thick layer of dust that had accumulated on it, I flung it open and headed towards the wardrobe.
But as I reached for some hangers, I suddenly stopped short.
I had no bloody idea where I was going to go.