The Wedding

H_HrFan

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 09/12/2005
Last Updated: 17/12/2005
Status: completed

Love - it takes many different forms and types. What happens when you have the wrong kind and you feel you have no choice but to settle for it? And how late is too late when the real thing finds you? Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today....

Chapters

1. Conversations: Harry and Hermione

2. Conversations: Harry and Ron

3. Conversations - Hermione and Luna

4. Chapter 4: The Wedding

1. Conversations: Harry and Hermione

A/N: It all belongs to JKR…as it should.

I know I've been posting quite a lot here, lately…but I think I'm on the verge of slowing down. This is a 4-part story and I have 2 parts of Discovery I'm considering. After that, I think I'll give you all a break! LOL

Thanks so much for reading and for those of you who post a review…you rock! Thanks!

”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

Conversations: Hermione and Harry

“I heard about these dresses that—” Hermione was tired as she once again tuned out the voice of Molly Weasley. She'd been following her mum and Mrs. Weasley from store to store for far too many hours in search of the perfect dress for her upcoming wedding to Ron, and her patience had finally worn thin.

Hermione sat down on a lone chair, thinking about how much she'd like to be somewhere…anywhere, else. Periodically she would nod her head and grunt in a vague attempt to appear as though she was listening. At one point she tuned in long enough to find her mum looking back at her with an anxious stare. “No, I don't…I don't think so,” her mum muttered in reply to whatever it was Molly had last suggested.

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a deep breath of discontent before once again getting lost in her thoughts.

”What do you think, dear?”

Hermione sat in silence, thinking about nothing and everything all at once and hadn't realized that Mrs. Weasley was speaking to her.

“Hermione,” Mrs. Weasley said as she placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione jerked her head up at the contact and looked at the woman in surprise. “s'cuse me?”

“I asked you what you think, dear,” Mrs. Weasley repeated. She studied Hermione with narrowed eyes. “Are you all right? You look a little peaked.”

Hermione dropped her head and rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time in the past hour. “I'm a little something…” she mumbled under her breath. She put on a false smile and looked up first at Mrs. Weasley and then at her mum, “Sorry, I must have missed that. What do I think of what?”

“Honestly, Hermione,” her mum chastised, “there're only three days left before your wedding and your dress is the last thing you need. I would think the very least you could do is pay attention to—”

Hermione put her hand in the air and stood up abruptly, causing both her mum and Mrs. Weasley to step back. “I don't want to hear it,” she snapped. “The two of you have made every last arrangement for this wedding. You decided on the flowers, the location, the invitations, the cake, Ron's dress robes, Harry's dress robes, Ginny's dress, the bridesmaid's dresses,” she gasped as she pulled air into her lungs before continuing. “I've obediently followed the two of you from store to store so you could dress me up like a play toy and ooh and awe and then decide,” she put her fingers in the air to quote them, “this ones not right, this one won't match Ron's robes, this one is cut too low, this one is too long…” she stopped and looked at them both incredulously. “First of all, how can a white wedding dress not match Ron's robes? Second, what difference does it make if it's too long, too short, low cut…or any other excuse you've managed to find? I believe we have ways of fixing those things,” she looked pointedly at Mrs. Weasley and added, “Do we not?

A wide-eyed Mrs. Weasley nodded and stammered, “Yes, I…I suppose we do.”

“Hermione, sweetheart, I didn't realize you—”

Hermione cut a silencing glare to her mum. “And third, at this point, I could care less what I wear. I'll wear my bloody bra and knickers if it means NOT HAVING TO LISTEN TO THE TWO OF YOU TALK TO AND ABOUT ME LIKE A CHILD!” She yelled, looking from one shocked face to the other. She wanted to care that their feelings were obviously hurt, but at that moment, she couldn't. She sighed and lowered her head. “Now, will one of you please just tell me what it was Molly wanted my opinion on?”

“Now, Hermione,” her mum began, “there's no need to get so upset. “We're only trying to—” she stopped abruptly when she saw her daughter close her eyes and take a deep breath.

Hermione counted to ten as she slowly breathed in and out before speaking. “Mum, please,” she said tightly. “I'm tired, I'm ready to go. Can you please just tell me what it is before I walk out the door and decide not to return?”

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. “Well, dear,” she began hesitantly, “I was, um, I was just telling your mum that I heard about wedding dresses with little jewels in them that are attuned to er, well, to your mood, dear. They're like a silvery-gray when you're nervous, and they turn to pink when you're excited… you know, that sort of thing.”

Mrs. Granger looked from Mrs. Weasley to Hermione. “And I was just saying that it didn't sound like something you'd like.” She looked at Mrs. Weasley as an idea struck her. “What happens if Ron makes her angry?” She held out her hand as though she was pointing out the obvious. “You know how well he can do that.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded her head. “That's true, yes. Well, either everyone will be looking at a bride getting married in red, or,” she looked down at Hermione with a twinkle in her eye, “we'll have to tell Ron to keep his trap shut until it's time to say I do.”

Hermione sat down heavily then dropped her head into her hands and shook her head as she began to laugh. After a moment she sighed heavily and sat up letting her head hit the wall behind her. “I'm too tired for this. I just…I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry,” she sighed. “You just…” she waved her hand at them, “you do whatever you want. Pick what you want. Just…” she pushed open the door, “I don't care…whatever,” she said, just before the door closed behind her.

She stepped out into the fresh afternoon air and for the first time in the past three months she felt at ease. Too much time of late had been spent being pushed here and directed there as her mum and Mrs. Weasley orchestrated the `perfect wedding'. Hermione groaned and shook the thoughts from her head before they had a chance to overwhelm her and for the next several hours she mindlessly walked the London streets in blessed silence.

When the sun began to set and the day turned to dusk Hermione decided that the time had come to go home. With great reluctance she looked for a place from which she could apparate and shortly thereafter she was standing before her dresser, kicking off her shoes. She'd intended to take just a cursory glance at her reflection in the mirror but what she saw made her gasp. Her eyes appeared to droop at the corners and the circles under them were as dark as they'd been when the fight against Voldemort had been at its worst…she was not looking at the face of happy woman on the brink of marriage. She looked tired and defeated…exactly the way she felt.

Hermione turned away from the mirror and gasped the moment she saw the wedding dress that lay across the middle of her bed. Tears burned in her eyes and she felt powerless to stop them as the hot streaks begin to course down her cheeks. She raggedly inhaled a breath and wiped vainly at the steady stream of tears that had been building for far too long.

She slumped onto the bed beside the dress and carefully ran her fingers over the silky material before picking up the note that lay atop it…

Hermione,

You said to do what we wanted, and for once we listened. We bought you the simplest of dresses because, as you so clearly reminded us, you can change it to what you want through the use of `other means'.

I'm sorry for taking away your opportunity to make decisions for your wedding. I was so excited when you told us that you were getting married, that I jumped right in to orchestrate the perfect wedding…for me. It's too late, really, to undo what Mrs. Weasley and I have done to this point. All we can do now is pray that what we've done is something that you and Ronald will love and cherish for years to come.

I love you,

Mum

Hermione held the letter to her chest and sniffled. “I'm sorry, mum,” she said in a choked whisper, “I'll never love and cherish this wedding for reasons that you could never understand.”

She set the letter down and laid back. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift to the one thing that could make her wedding perfect, the one man who could…she started at the sound of the knock on her door. She sat up quickly to wipe her eyes and clear her throat. “Mum, I'm really not in the mood right now,” she called out in a shaky voice.

“It's not your mum, Hermione. Can I come in?”

Hermione's heart began to race as she jumped up from the bed and ran to the mirror. She grabbed her wand from the top of the dresser and did a quick cleansing charm to clear away the evidence of her tears.

“Hermione? Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine, Harry,” she stammered. “I'm just…I'm not decent. Hold on a minute.”

She hurriedly checked her clothes and her hair before slamming her wand down in irritation. “For cripes sake, Hermione, get a grip,” she admonished. “It's only Harry for crying out loud.” With one final glance in the mirror she walked to the door and slowly turned the knob. “What are you doing here?” she asked before the door was fully opened.

“Your mum called me,” he said. “She told me you were upset and she asked me to come and check up on you. What's going on?”

Hermione gestured for him to enter the room and then closed the door behind him. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing to the bed. When Harry hesitated she followed his gaze to the dress then took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Don't mind that,” she said caustically. She reached down and folded the dress over and then gestured for him to sit.

Harry looked at her in surprise. “Hermione that's your—”

“…wedding dress. Yeah, I know.”

“But why are you…” he paused to watch her as she sat down on the other side of the dress and then gestured again for him to sit. Hesitantly he sat, his eyes never leaving her face. “Something's really wrong. You don't look well, Hermione. Tell me what's going on.”

Hermione looked into eyes and asked the question that had been on her mind since he'd walked in the door. “Why did my mum call you?”

Harry shook his head and gave her a confounded look. “Excuse me?”

“I want to know why she called you,” Hermione repeated. “What did she say?”

“She always calls me when something's not right,” he said. “You know that. In fact, I'd venture to bet you're not the least bit surprised to find me here.”

“I guess not,” she replied irritably as she dropped her head to study her fingers. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“Why do I suppose what is?” Harry asked. “Hermione, you're not making any sense.” He reached out and grasped her chin. “Look at me,” he said softly. Slowly Hermione raised her head. “Tell me what's wrong. Is it pre-wedding jitters or something? Are you nervous, scared…” he paused as he searched her eyes, “what, Hermione. What is it?”

Hermione turned her head away and closed her eyes while she willed herself not to cry again. “You wouldn't understand,” she said, her voice both soft and sad.

Harry stood and walked around the bed to kneel down beside her. “Try me, Hermione,” he said softly. “I'm sure you can help me to understand.” He put his hand on her knee and felt her shudder beneath his touch. “I'm here for you always, you know that.”

“Harry, please,” she begged. “You can't help me this time.” She gasped for a breath as the tears began to fall once more. “Please,” her tear-filled eyes pleaded as she spoke in a hoarse whisper, “just go.”

Harry placed his hand against her cheek and the look of devastation on his face made her cry a little harder. “Hermione, don't push me away. I promise,” he murmured desperately. “I promise not to tell if that's what it takes to get you to open up to me. Hermione, please.”

“I don't…” her voice broke and she rested her cheek against the palm of his hand whilst she struggled to regain control of her emotions. “I can't do this…I just…I can't.”

“You can't what?”

Hermione shook her head wildly. “No!” she said vehemently. “No! I won't do this. I can't. No, Harry. It's not…I just…I can't.” She opened her eyes and implored him not to make her say it. “Harry, please…” she pleaded. “Please don't make me say it.”

“Damnit, Hermione,” Harry said in a harsh whisper. “You're marrying Ron in three days. You're supposed to be happy. This is supposed to be your time…YOURS!” He grasped her chin once more and pulled her roughly around to look at him. “Tell me what it is you can't do,” he demanded. “Tell me!”

Silently she begged him to let her keep her secret…it was the one thing she had of her own and the only thing about her that Harry didn't know. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew that it was useless. “Marry Ron.” Her words were spoken so softly that had Harry not been watching the movement of her lips, he wouldn't have caught what it was that she said.

Harry withdrew his hand so quickly from her cheek that he lost his balance and fell back onto his arse. He sat there for a moment in a dazed state and then began to shake his head in disbelief. “No,” he said fervently. “That's not…” he looked up at her, his eyes blazing. “What did he do to you this time?” he hissed in a voice suddenly filled with rage.

“Nothing Harry,” she said as she closed her eyes and fell back onto the bed. “Ron didn't do anything…not this time.”

Harry got on his knees and hobbled over to the end of the bed until his face was mere inches from hers. “Hermione, tell me what's going on,” he said in a steely voice. “If you don't, I'll be forced to storm out of here and hex our best friend for crimes I know nothing about. Is that what you want?”

Hermione's eyes widened and she sat up. “You wouldn't.”

Harry looked directly into her eyes and through clenched teeth he said the only two words that could make her blood run cold. “Try me.”

Her heartbeat quickened and she stared down at him, unable to speak. She knew she couldn't let Harry go storming to the Burrow to hex Ron when the way she felt had little-to-nothing to do with him…this time, she was the one to blame. She took a deep breath and plunged forward, despite the fact that it was the last thing on earth she wanted to do. “It's not him,” she sighed resignedly. “It's me. It's my fault, Harry. All mine.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, telling her, without words, that he expected more.

Hermione's head and shoulders dropped in defeat. “I don't love him,” she said in a voice just loud enough for Harry to hear. “I never really have, not like that…not like a woman should love the man she's about to marry.”

Once again Harry found himself on his arse shaking his head in disbelief. “But you agreed…” he shouted.

Hermione put her finger to her lips. “Harry, shhh…” she whispered harshly. She jumped up from the bed and grabbed her wand from the dresser to cast a silencing charm on her room.

The moment she was done Harry jumped to his feet and began to pace the room. “You agreed to marry him, Hermione,” he said again, although this time his voice was much quieter. He looked up at her sharply and in an instant he felt all traces of his anger vanish to be quickly replaced by confusion. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as he stared at her questioningly. “You did agree … didn't you?”

Somehow he felt he knew the answer even before he saw the first initial shake of her head. “Not really,” she admitted. “I never had the chance to answer either way.”

The breath that escaped Harry was like the hissing sound of a deflating tire as he sat down heavily upon her bed. “What does that mean?” he asked. “How could you not—”

“Molly,” Hermione said, cutting him off mid-sentence. She closed her eyes and pictured that night clearly in her mind as she spoke. “Ron and I had been dating nearly a year by then. We'd just returned to the Burrow from a double-date with you and Ginny. The two of you bid us goodnight, but rather than go to bed, Ron asked me to join him in the kitchen for a late-night snack. Despite the fact that I was exhausted, I agreed to join him. We walked into the kitchen and Ron pulled me into his arms. I asked him what he was doing, but he wouldn't answer…he only let me go and then smiled. I turned around to open a cupboard when Ron suddenly grabbed my arm and spun me around. In his hand was a small velvet box. I couldn't breathe, I didn't know what to do, what to say, how to act. He flipped the lid on the box and inside was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. I gasped. He put his fingers on the ring and he whispered the words, “Will you marry me, Hermione?” and I stared at him, I couldn't speak.”

Harry watched the emotions play out on Hermione's face as she relived the story for him. He was conscious of every rise and fall of her voice, he was attuned to it. He dropped his head and cringed slightly at the mention of Ginny's name and he smiled when she mentioned Ron and his voracious appetite. And he felt his heart plummet, just as it did that night, when she got to the part where Ron asked the question. He studied her ever-changing expressions closely and he was shocked when the realization hit him that had she been given a choice, her answer would have likely been “no.”

“I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. I looked up at Ron and I realized for the first time that I—” she paused and took a deep, shuddering breath as she turned away from him to put her wand back on the dresser, “I didn't love him…not like that. And as I searched his face it hit me…”

“What?” Harry said softly when she paused.

“That he didn't love me that way either.” She turned to look desperately at Harry before continuing, her eyes begging him to understand. “I was shocked. It'd taken a moment like that for me to realize that I didn't love him, but I'd never thought it would be obvious that he didn't really love me. I just…I couldn't know that for sure until I asked him. I was getting ready to tell him what I thought I knew…to tell him that we would be okay, but that neither of us was ready for such a commitment. I wanted to call it all off, the whole thing. I opened my mouth and his name barely escaped my lips when Molly entered the kitchen.”

Hermione's shoulders slumped and she rotated her head from side-to-side as though working out a kink. “Harry, it was awful,” she said. “It truly was. The moment she entered the kitchen and saw the ring, she screamed. She started shouting out her congratulations and telling Ron to hurry up and put the ring on my finger. She didn't even wait to hear whether or not I'd answered him…whether or not I'd accepted his proposal.” She looked at Harry pointedly. “You remember that night, don't you? The way Molly woke up everyone in the house to tell them the wonderful news…Ron and Hermione are getting married! Everyone came running up to us, congratulating us, wishing us well. We were overwhelmed and Ron,” she shook her head. “Poor Ron had no idea what my answer was going to be. I couldn't very well tell him that I didn't want to marry him…not with all of you there. And so it went,” she sighed.

“Why haven't you said anything?” Harry demanded. “It's been nearly three months, Hermione, why didn't either one of you speak up?”

“From there things just got completely out of control,” she said by way of explanation. “I thought I'd wait a couple of days to talk to Ron. I'd hoped the fervor would die down a bit…but it only got worse. The next thing I knew, Molly was making wedding plans with my mum and Ron and I we just…” she shrugged and turned her eyes to Harry's. “We didn't have the heart to tell them.”

“So you and Ron have talked about this?” Harry asked with a note of incredulity.

Hermione nodded. “About a month ago,” she said. “We had an argument over something small, something meaningless…and I,” she dropped her head in embarrassment, “I told him that I'd never wanted to marry him in the first place and if it hadn't been for his meddlesome mother always butting in where she doesn't belong, we wouldn't have to be playing this stupid charade. I told him I was tired of living the lie and then I took off my ring, threw it at him, and walked away…intent on never seeing him again.”

“But you're still engaged,” Harry said. “What happened?”

“He came after me,” she said with a shrug. “He told me that he asked me to marry him because he thought that was what everyone expected of him and that for once…” she paused and chuckled wryly, “for once he wanted to do the right thing. He thought it was what I wanted, and he knew it was what his family wanted. He had no idea that I felt the same way he did. He thought his own feelings were just him being him and that maybe he just didn't know enough about love to know that he was in it. We talked about us for a while and then he asked me what I thought we should do about it.”

“And what did you say?”

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. “I asked him if there was really anything we could do about it.”

“But Hermione,” Harry cried. “There were loads of things you could've—” Hermione shook her head and Harry stopped talking.

“No, there weren't Harry. I cou…” she looked pointedly at him. “Tell me what you would've done, Harry. How would you have done things any differently than Ron and I?”

“I would've…” he shook his head as an image of an excited Mrs. Weasley lost in the throes of making wedding plans entered his mind. His shoulders dropped, “I don't know,” he conceded.

Hermione held her hand out in front of her, “Do you see what I mean?” she asked. “Ron and I talked about it and we just kind of agreed that telling Molly was out of the question. There just wasn't any reason, you know. We love each other, just not…”

“Not what?”

Hermione looked at him and silently her heart began to break for everything she'd never have. “Not with a passion. There's no fire. Not even a flicker, really. He doesn't make me feel alive. He doesn't make my heart beat faster…or slower. He doesn't inspire me to become greater than maybe even I've believed possible. He doesn't make me feel special.” She dropped head and her next words came out on a whisper, “He doesn't make me feel like y…” her eyes widened the moment she realized what she'd been about to say and she was thankful she'd caught herself in time.

“Like what, Hermione?” Harry asked softly.

Hermione exhaled slowly as she thought about how to respond. For a brief moment she wondered if she should just tell him the truth, but then quickly dispensed of the idea. “Nothing, Harry. I, um…” she paused to moisten her lips and collect her thoughts, “I didn't have anything to say, so that's why I stopped. It's not like nothing…anything, or, well, you know what I mean,” she said in frustration. “Can we drop it now,” she looked at him, her eyes begging him to listen this time. “Please, Harry, can we just drop it?”

Hermione was still in front of the dresser, although she was now leaning heavily against it. Harry rose from the bed and moved to stand in front of her. “Kiss me, Hermione,” he said, his words coming out like a command.

Hermione couldn't hide her surprise at his words. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said forcefully. “Kiss me.”

Hermione pushed at his chest with one hand, and reached for her wand with the other. “I'm not going to kiss you, Harry,” she said in no uncertain terms.

Undeterred, Harry stepped forward and looked into her eyes. “Why not?” he asked.

“Because I can't,” she said as she pushed feebly against his chest once more.

“Why not?” he repeated.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed as she took a tiny step toward him. “Why should I?”

“Because I need to know the truth,” he replied as he took a small step toward her.

“What truth?” she asked with yet another small step.

Harry took the final step, his mouth now only inches from hers. “Please, Hermione, you know me too well. Don't pretend like you don't know,” he whispered.

Harry placed his hand against Hermione's cheek and her entire body exploded with a sensation like she'd never felt before…and it scared her. She tried again to push him away but her fingers curled desperately in his shirt. A lone tear streamed down her face as Harry's lips got closer and closer to her own. Suddenly, she fell back against the dresser and a startled Harry opened his eyes in time to see her wipe away a tear. He stood, mesmerized by the look in her eyes that told him so much more than words ever could. “I'm sorry, Harry,” she said on a choked whisper, “I'm marrying, Ron.”

Before he could react, she was gone. Harry turned swiftly around to see if she would reappear behind him, but she didn't. After a moment he realized that he was most definitely alone. She'd left him standing in the middle of her room…feeling desolate as he stared at a dress she would be wearing in a few short days to marry another man.

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2. Conversations: Harry and Ron

Chapter 2 - Conversations: Harry and Ron

Harry looked around Hermione's room one final time. He was biding his time waiting, hoping that she'd come back. His eyes moved of their own accord to her dress and he reached out to unfold and caress it before he left the room.

He walked out to the living room and Mrs. Granger jumped to her feet. “Did you talk to her?”

Harry sighed and shook his head, “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I think this time I made it worse. She's gone.”

“She's what?” Mrs. Granger gasped. “How can she be—”

Harry grasped her hand and squeezed it lightly. “She'll be back. I know it won't be easy, but try not to worry too much about her.” He looked up into her eyes with a fierceness he felt to his very core. “Believe me, Mrs. Granger,” he said in earnest, “I'm going to set it all right,” he dropped her hand and turned to walk away before looking back and adding, “…starting now, tonight.” Without another word he disapparated, leaving Mrs. Granger feeling both frustrated and yet somehow relieved, trusting that Harry would make things right…just as he always had.

“If anyone can do it, it's Harry,” Mr. Granger said, coming up from behind his wife.

She turned and wrapped her arms around him burying her face in his neck. “I hope so,” she cried softly. “I have a feeling this is much bigger than the hunt for a dress.”

Mr. Granger rolled his eyes at his wife's words then chuckled lightly. “I have a feeling you're right,” he said. He thought about Harry and the look he'd seen in the young man's eyes and he pulled her closer, “I think it's about a whole lot more than just a dress,” he added with a worried frown.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry apparated to his apartment and ran straight for his fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and called out Ron's name. Moments later his head appeared in Ron's fireplace and he started to yell Ron's name.

“Do you hear something?”

“No,” Ron replied a little too quickly. “Whatever you think it is, ignore it.”

“It sounds like Harry. You better go check.”

“Not even Harry right now,” Ron said definitively. “Just let it go.”

Ron's guest pushed him away with the word, “Go!” and he stumbled backward.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I'll be right back.”

“Good. I'll be waiting.”

Ron shook his head, mumbling to himself as he walked out the door. “What is it, Harry?” he snapped when he walked into the living room and found Harry's head floating in his fireplace.

“Ron, we have to talk.”

“Harry, can this wait? Now isn't a good time.”

“No!” Harry shouted. He shook his head and lowered his voice. “I mean, no, sorry,” he apologized. “There's no more time, Ron, we need to talk now.”

“Come on in then,” Ron sighed, gesturing reluctantly.

Seconds later Harry stepped through the fire and began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. He stopped briefly to look up at Ron and ask, “why'd you do it?” before continuing on.

“Ex-cuse me?” Ron asked in confusion. “What's that?”

Harry stopped and looked at Ron like he wanted to hex him. “Why'd you do it, Ron?” he reiterated, a little louder and slower this time. “Why'd you ask her?”

Ron continued to stare at Harry as though he'd gone mad. “Why'd I ask who, what?” he asked, still confused. Harry had begun to pace again and Ron stepped forward to grab his arm, pulling him to an abrupt halt. Harry gave him a derisive look and Ron held him tighter. “Harry, you need to start making some sense or come back when you can. I have no clue what you're talking about.”

“Of course you don't,” Harry growled. “You never do, do you?”

“Listen—”

Harry ripped his arm from Ron's grasp and turned his back. “I need you to tell me why you asked Hermione to marry you,” he interrupted; his voice soft, yet firm.

Ron rolled around in a move of frustration. “This is about Hermione?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “What difference does it make now? It's too late to do anything about it.” Ron looked at him suspiciously and asked, “…and why do you care?”

Harry whirled around and before Ron could react, he grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip. “Tell me,” he growled.

Ron yanked his arm away and sat down heavily on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. “I thought it was expected,” he said in a voice Harry recognized as one Ron used when he'd spent many hours asking himself the exact same question. “It seemed like the logical next step. I thought she might say no. In fact, I think I kind've hoped that she would. I just knew it was time to ask. I had no idea mum would walk in right then.” He looked helplessly up at Harry. “I had no idea things would get so out of control.”

Harry sat down beside him and threw himself against the back of the sofa. “Why haven't you stopped it, Ron? Why keep it going if—“ he took a deep breath of frustration and swallowed hard, angered by the fact that Ron didn't realize just how lucky he was, “…if you don't love her?”

Ron heard the hitch in Harry's voice and he turned to face him. “What's this about, mate?” he asked, eyeing Harry closely. When he didn't answer Ron tried again. “What's it really about? It's got to be more to it than just me and Hermione getting married. Talk to me.”

Harry sat up from the back of the couch and dropped his head into his hands in much the same way Ron had. “I talked to Hermione tonight,” he said, obviously upset by what he learned. “She told me what happened.” He looked over to Ron, their eyes locking together as each scrutinized the other. “After all we've been through, all the strength you've had to show, I don't understand why you haven't tried to stand up to your mum.” Ron's eyes shadowed over and Harry turned away, dropping his head and shoulders. He shut his eyes and took a long, deep breath, “…or why Hermione hasn't,” he added quietly to himself. He ran his fingers through his hair in helpless frustration. “I just don't get it, Ron.”

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder, “how long has it been?” he asked, forcing Harry to look up.

“What?”

“How long have you been in love with her?”

Harry jumped up from the couch and ran his fingers through his hair again. “That's not what this is about,” he exclaimed a little too quickly, and with little to no conviction. “This is about you and Hermione. I care about you both and I just…I can't—” he sighed and collapsed, defeated, into a nearby chair. “I don't know how long.”

“Did it again, didn't I?” Ron asked, moving to the end of the couch to sit closer to Harry.

“What's that?”

“Found a way to muck it all up,” he said shaking his head. “It isn't any consolation, I know, but honestly, Harry, I had no idea.”

Harry shrugged and looked away, “Doesn't matter, Ron,” he said standing up and taking a few steps away.

Ron stood up and moved to stand beside him. “Well, I'd have to say you're not very convincing at the moment, mate.”

Harry leaned back against the chair, his hands clutching it tightly as he stared out into nowhere. “Honesty,” he said suddenly. “That's what we need here, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron nodded.

Harry rubbed his hands up over his face and under his glasses. “I don't know how long it's been,” he began, “it started out with just watching you…the two of you…together. I thought I was—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ron interrupted, gesturing wildly. “How do you mean, `watching' us?”

Harry cut his eyes to Ron and shook his head in irritation. “I wasn't spying or anything, Ron, relax. It was when we were all together. I thought I was looking out for the both of you.” He turned away abruptly, unable to look at Ron as he continued. “I never told you this, but seeing the two of you together made me more determined than ever to defeat Voldemort.”

“Us?” Ron asked, pointing to himself in disbelief. “Us? Me and Hermione…together?”

Harry went on as though Ron hadn't interrupted. “You know Dumbledore told me love was the power I had that Voldemort couldn't understand.” He looked up to catch Ron's nod before continuing. “Well, I looked at you and Hermione and for the first time, I thought I understood what he meant. It didn't have to be about the love I have, but the fact that I can see it, that I can recognize it and it can have an affect on me. Despite the way things were; the heightened war, people running scared, all of the hate and injustice…beneath it all were people falling in love.” He sighed and pushed himself up off the chair. “I know it sounds cliché, and probably makes little sense to you—”

Ron moved to stand beside him. “Hang on a minute,” he said in his own defense. “There are a lot of things I can't claim to understand…we both know that. But what we also know is that your heart isn't one of them.” Ron rolled his eyes and chuckled wryly, “talk about sounding cliché and, well, sorta stupid, uh?” he said shaking his head in embarrassment. Harry remained quiet and a moment later Ron cleared his throat and began talking once again. “Having been your friend for the past 9 years, the one thing I understand above all else, is how important it is for you to protect people and to fight for what you believe is right. Despite the way I've acted over the years, it's what I admire most about you. It's the one thing I've tried to be sure to take away from this friendship.” Ron shook his head and tried again. “That didn't come out right,” he said backtracking quickly. “What I mean is, just an ounce of your compassion…just one ounce, would go a long way toward making me a better man, I know that…I understand it. I just hope I've somehow managed to siphon an ounce after all this time.”

Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze, “Thanks mate. I'm not sure I can take credit, but I'd say you've got a bit more than an ounce of compassion in you. It's this fear of your mum I'm more concerned about at the moment!” They both chuckled before Harry dropped his arm and took a step away to continue. “Anyway,” he sighed. “I started paying attention. For the first time, I started watching for it and I realized that it was everywhere…only people were scared to show it. For whatever reason, it seemed that people were afraid that if they let anyone else see the truth, it would be ripped away. Love was hiding in the background, while all around us hate and fear were growing stronger. I knew I had to end it…I had to end the war…I had to win so people could finally focus on what was important. I couldn't allow myself to lose…I couldn't condemn people to Voldemort's world of cruelty and hate.”

“You didn't, Harry,” Ron said with quiet resolution. “You won. And now people are free to do what it is they want.”

Harry looked directly into Ron's eyes, “I know,” he said unblinkingly. “Everyone can do what they want, everyone that is…but me.” He shrugged and turned abruptly away. “I was ready for it, Ron. I thought I had Ginny, I thought everything would be great,” he said in his defense. His voice dropped dramatically as he continued, “but it was all wrong. And when it hit me…” he shook his head and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “It's selfish, Ron. I've tried to push it down, I've tried to get her out of my head…to forget about the way I feel…but I can't. Now that I know, it won't leave me. It's like she's possessed me.”

“Oh, Hermione,” Ron said wistfully.

Harry looked at him desperately. “I see her everywhere,” he exclaimed. “Do you know that during Quidditch matches, hers was the first face I would see? The one voice that I could hear above all others? From the time I've known her, no matter where we were, no matter how big the crowd, she was the one I would seek out first, and if I didn't find her right away I would search until I did. I never thought much about it before; I always assumed it was because we were the best of friends, because she was always my biggest supporter, and because she was the one who believed in me without question. I never once had to prove myself to her.” He missed the way Ron's cheeks reddened and his head dropped in self-disappointment at the truth of Harry's words. “She questioned me when she thought I was wrong, she stood up to me when no one else would. She supported me when I was right and most importantly, she forced me to think when I was wrong. It's just always been that way, Ron,” he said. “Always.”

“I can see that now,” Ron said softly. “Now you mention it.”

Harry looked at him, he wanted to smile, but he couldn't. At the moment there was little happiness left in him. “Do you remember the night you got engaged?” he asked suddenly.

“How could I forget?”

“All the yelling and excitement that night. The way your mum screamed and everyone came running. Everyone but me, Ron. Did you realize I never congratulated you? That I never stepped up and shook your hand?”

Ron tried to think back to that night. “No,” he reluctantly admitted. “Even now, I can't look back on that night and remember much of anything. I'm sorry, Harry, I completely missed it.”

“I never hugged her and told her I was happy for the two of you. I couldn't…speak.” Harry's eyes glazed over and his voice softened considerably as he thought back to that night. “That night was when I realized the truth…when I realized I loved her. I couldn't do anything, I could hardly breathe. I stood back and watched in silence while a part of me died. I felt like the worse kind of friend—the worst kind of man. I looked at Ginny and I felt no love. I felt nothing but sympathy…sympathy for the fact that she was involved with someone who was in love with someone else. Hermione was getting married so I thought I could make it work and I tried, in a half-arsed sort of way, but I just couldn't do it. It's the reason I broke up with her…the reason I've never looked back. I couldn't put her through that, and I couldn't force myself to settle for someone I wasn't able to commit to one-hundred percent. Ginny deserved better, and I couldn't be the one to give it to her. I had to let her go.”

“Harry, why didn't you say something? You said you were watching us. Maybe you didn't realize you loved her, but standing on the outside looking in, you must've seen something not right between us.”

“That's the worst part, Ron,” Harry said miserably. “I thought I knew her…I do know her, dammit! I just…I wasn't looking closely enough. I didn't look long enough or hard enough and I missed it. Like the night you got engaged, there was something wrong with her smile that night. It just…I don't know,” he shook his head back and forth in frustration. “It just wasn't right. I thought it was shock, you know? I thought she was reeling over the fact that you'd proposed and she was just overwhelmed by all of the attention. I was hurting that night and I couldn't see past my own pain to focus enough on what Hermione was feeling. And I haven't…” Harry huffed and slammed his hand down hard against the back of the chair, “…I haven't looked since. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Once I knew the truth, I thought it would hurt too much to see how much she loved you.”

“You talked to her tonight,” Ron said remembering the start of their discussion. “How much could you tell? Does she love you?”

Harry shook his head, “I don't know,” he growled in exasperation. “I don't think so. But dammit, Ron!” he looked up, anger flashing in his eyes. “It doesn't matter, does it? You can't marry her. She deserves better,” he looked down at his feet, “you both do,” he added softly.

“I tried talking to mum once,” Ron admitted. He walked around the back of the couch and sat on the arm of it. “I told her it was a mistake, that I couldn't go through with it…that I couldn't marry Hermione.”

Harry jerked his head up. “And?” he hissed, his nostrils flaring in barely-controlled anger.

Ron shook his head and swung his fist at the back of the couch. “She convinced me it was nerves. I don't know how she did it, to be honest. You know mum. It can be hard to argue with her…especially when she's making sense. It was right before me and Hermione talked. I was feeling desperate and I was confused. I should've talked to her again after I talked to Hermione, but by the time we were done, we'd sort of convinced each other that somehow, everything would be all right. The plans were already full-swing and we were both overwhelmed by the amount of time and money being invested in us. It sorta blew us away and we—”

“…sacrificed yourselves to make your mum happy,” Harry finished for him.

Ron nodded. “Yeah, that's one way to put it,” he reluctantly agreed. “So tell me what happened tonight.”

“We talked,” Harry shrugged, “that's it. Oh,” he said, his eyes dropping to the ground as his cheeks burned red, “and I…I asked her to kiss me.”

“You what?!?” Ron shouted. “You don't know how she feels about you, but you do know that she's engaged to your best mate. And still, still you asked her to kiss you? What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

“Obviously, I wasn't,” Harry yelled back, though half-heartedly. “I'm sorry. I just…” his voice dropped to a near-whisper, “I just wanted to know how she felt about me…if she felt anything for me all aside from friendship.”

“And did she?” Ron asked gruffly. “Kiss you, I mean. Did she?”

“No,” Harry answered, shaking his head. “No she didn't. She said she couldn't because…” Harry paused to take a deep, calming breath and blinked his eyes rapidly to dispel the tears he felt burning behind his lids.

“Because?”

“…because she was marrying you.”

“Just like Hermione,” Ron said even as he breathed a sigh of relief. “I don't know what to tell you, Harry. Not right now. I understand what it is you want me to do, but I'm not sure I can stop this wedding…it's in three days.”

Harry looked up at Ron and sighed again. “I can't tell you what to do, Ron. All I can say is that there's someone out there who loves you; someone who could actually make you happy in life. We both know that woman isn't Hermione. Are you sure you're willing to sacrifice a lifetime of happiness to settle for a woman your mum thinks is right for you?”

“Would you marry her?” Ron asked on a whim. “I mean, if I didn't…would you?”

“Only if she loved me,” Harry said resolutely. “Although I might like to, I'd never marry her if she didn't love me in return…I couldn't do that to her. But, I can assure you, I'd marry her tomorrow if I knew she loved me.”

“O-kay,” Ron said as he stood and moved to stand beside Harry once more. Ron shook his head at the twisted irony of it all. “You've never even kissed her, Harry,” he said softly. “You've never…” he paused, “Forget about it,” he said, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter, does it?”

Harry shook his head and chuckled, it was a hollow sound that nearly brought Ron to tears. “I don't have to kiss her to know, Ron,” he said firmly. He held his hand over his heart, “it's all right in here.”

Ron swallowed hard. “I'm sorry,” he murmured.

Harry sighed. “I don't know what I expect you to do. Nothing I suppose, when it comes down to it,” he shrugged.

Ron was about to speak when Harry continued…

“And yet, I want you to do everything. I know I want you to talk to your mum again, put your foot down and call this blasted wedding off. But I have to admit…” He looked rather sheepishly at Ron but then quickly dropped his gaze. “I don't think she loves me the way that I do her, and there's a part of me that would rather see her married to you than some other bloke. Anyone else and I might lose her completely.”

“I just don't know, Harry,” Ron said softly. “I can't make you any promises…though Merlin knows you deserve them. If I could just make all of this go away, I would. But it's going to make more than just your average miracle.”

“Yeah, right,” Harry said, nodding his head dejectedly. “I better go.” He put his hand on Ron's shoulder and squeezed it once again. “I'm sorry, mate. I know this is probably the last thing you wanted or needed to hear. There's not a lot we can do to change our fate…if anyone knows that, it's me. I'll see you soon.”

Ron grasped Harry's hand where it rested against his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “No, I s'pose we can't. But I understand where you're coming from. I just don—”

“I know,” Harry quietly interrupted. “I'll see you.”

Without another word, Harry was gone and Ron stood for a moment, thinking about all that Harry had confessed. An idea began to form in his mind and he ran back to where he'd left his guest. All he found was a simple note…

I know what I need to do. I'll be in touch.

Ron smiled and sifted the note between his fingers. “Brilliant,” he said softly to himself.

-->

3. Conversations - Hermione and Luna

Chapter 3 - Conversations: Hermione and Luna

Luna sat in silence on the sofa in her father's living room, quietly contemplating her life and that of her friends. A gentle smile formed on her lips and she sat up just before a knock resounded throughout the room. She stood and flicked her wand toward the door, casting a charm to ascertain who was standing just on the other side of it. She moved quickly to answer it, not at all surprised to find …

“Hermione,” she said in her usual airy tone as she opened the door. “I thought I might be seeing you tonight.”

Hermione stood on the porch looking dumbfounded as she stared up into Luna's smiling face, “How could you know…” she hesitated and narrowed her eyes, “…don't tell me you were warned by a snorkack,” she half-heartedly teased.

Luna rolled her eyes and laughed breezily. “No, Hermione, don't be silly,” she admonished. “You of all people should know that the snorkack hibernates this time of year. I'll have to wait for spring to get any sort of information out of one of them.”

Hermione laughed and held out her hands in defeat. “How could I have possibly forgotten that?” she quipped. She took a small step forward then shook her head, her laughter dying quickly as the reason for her visit assaulted her conscious. She looked up at Luna and swallowed hard. “Can I come in?” she asked in a low voice that suddenly sounded hollow and desolate. “I promise I won't take too much of your time.”

Luna waved her hand dismissively. “We're friends, Hermione,” she countered, her own voice taking on a more serious tone. “Take all my time you need. Come on in,” she stepped back and Hermione walked hesitantly through the door. Luna gestured toward the living room, “Make yourself at home,” she said as she continued on through. “Can I get you some tea?

It took a moment for Luna's question to register with Hermione as she looked around the eclectic home in wide-eyed wonder. Somehow, the scores of trinkets spread haphazardly about the room seemed to idealize Luna's eccentric personality, and as she looked around, Hermione couldn't help but to wonder how much alike Luna and her father really were. Finally, she shook the thoughts from her head and unthinkingly replied to Luna's question with a casual, “Yeah, tea.” She looked up sharply when her own response registered in her mind. “I'm sorry,” she quickly apologized. “I didn't mean to sound so rude. Tea would be great, so long as it's not too much trouble. Thanks.”

Luna laughed. “It's all right, Hermione, relax. There's no need for formalities.” She turned to walk away and then looked back at Hermione. “Care to join me in here?” she asked pointing toward the kitchen.

Hermione nodded distractedly. “Yeah, sure, of course,” she mumbled as she continued to gape at the `treasures' that engulfed the Lovegood home. She looked around one final time before following the path Luna had taken.

“Father and I go on expedition each year,” Luna explained as she reached into the cupboard for two cups then set them on the counter. “We generally find some unusual things while we're out. That's where a lot of that stuff came from,” she said with a vague gesture toward the living room.

“It's very…” Hermione began a bit apprehensively as she searched for the right word, “unique?” The word came out as more of a question than a statement, and she immediately wished she'd never shown up to Luna's house; especially if her brain was going to continue to shut down.

Luna laughed again. “Well, it won't fit everyone's taste, that's for sure,” she said lightly, trying to put Hermione's mind at ease. She knew there were much more important things on Hermione's mind and she didn't want anything as insignificant as home décor to interfere with them.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and returned Luna's smile. “Thanks,” she sighed gratefully.

“Don't bother yourself about it,” Luna replied waving it away. “It's really not a problem. Father and I like it and, well, since we're the ones who live here—” she shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

Hermione understood her meaning perfectly and dropped the issue. She stared in silence at where her hands wrung together in her lap. “I shouldn't have come,” she said in a voice so soft that Luna wondered if the statement had been meant for her or if Hermione had been talking to herself.

Luna eyed her for a second, trying to think of a way to distract her. “How do you take your tea?” she asked a little loudly as she poured two steaming cups.

“Cream is—”

“Do you take it with a Gnarish Dust?” she asked, eyeing Hermione again.

Hermione stopped suddenly and looked up at Luna from where she sat at the old wooden dining table. “Do I take it with what?”

Luna pulled a small jar from another cupboard. “Gnarish Dust,” she repeated, holding up the jar for Hermione to see.

Hermione eyed the bottle curiously. “What is that?”

“Ground fairy wings,” Luna stated with a shrug.

“Ground fairy wings…” Hermione repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “What's its purpose?”

Luna collected the cream and set it on the table as she casually began to explain the dust's uses. “Well, as you know, fairies are magical creatures with extraordinary powers which only they possess. A part of that power is said to be contained within their wings. When their wings are ground into Gnarish Dust they can be put to all kinds of uses.” She pointed at one of the cups. “For instance, when you put it into tea, it reacts with the tea's natural stimulants and together they act as a sort of calming draught, only its effects are more gradual. The combination works together to help ease your mind allowing you to put things that are troubling you into better perspective.” She looked over at Hermione and laughed at her clueless expression. “You've really never heard of it before?” she asked. “I find that very hard to believe, Miss Granger.”

“So why do they call it that?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed as she tried to find a correlation between gnarish and fairy.

Luna shrugged. “I'm not sure, but I imagine it must have to do with the fact that centuries ago there was an upsurge in the trade of fairy wings. Fairies, small as they are, were often hard to catch, but as the demand for their wings increased, wizards started finding newer methods with which to capture them. At one point, the capture and subsequent use of their body parts for the purposes of potion-making became illegal. There's a plant in existence, within the wizarding world, known as the gnarvish, and it's believed that because of its abundance, a slight alteration of its name was chosen as a way to cover up the fact that fairy wings were still very much in use. Of course, we now know for certain that gnarish dust is, actually, ground fairy wings but rather than changing the name I suppose they decided it best to keep it the same. It sounds much less cruel then fairy wings, I think.”

Hermione took a moment to consider what Luna had said, then looked up at her. “Just cream, I think,” she replied with a grin. “And no, I've not heard of gnarish dust. But thanks for the explanation.” She looked again with trepidation at the jar in Luna's hand, making a note to someday research gnarish dust and its uses.

Luna grabbed the two cups of tea and carried them to the table where Hermione had taken up residence. “Here you go,” she said, handing Hermione hers.

Hermione looked down into the cup, one eyebrow raised in question.

“No,” Luna laughed. “I didn't put anything in yours. Only mine.”

Hermione looked at Luna's cup. “Is everything all right?” she asked, raising her eyes to meet Luna's. “You're not having trouble putting things into perspective are you?”

Luna shook her head. “Just preparing myself to help you,” she said softly.

Hermione picked up the cream and poured a bit into her tea by way of distraction. She looked around for a spoon and not finding one, she picked up the cup and began to mindlessly swirl its contents around. After a few seconds, she took a sip and sat back in her chair. “I'm really sorry for barging in on you like this,” she said, staring unseeingly into her cup. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes tightly. When she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out but a tiny whimper, followed closely by a few stray tears. “Bloody hell,” she cursed as she quickly tried to wipe them away.

“Her—”

She attempted to stand and in a sudden flash of anger and frustration she slumped back down into the chair. “Damn it!” she cried, slamming her hands on the table. “It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to be this way…this weak. I'm supposed to be stronger than this.” She looked up at Luna, expecting to see a look of disgust at her show of weakness, what she found was a pair of sympathetic eyes boring into hers and immediately she looked away. “What's wrong with me?” she questioned softly. She shook her head and silently cursed Harry for making her…feel. “I haven't been the wimpy, whiny girl who cries like this since I was eleven!”

“Hermione,” Luna replied, finally breaking her own silence. “Crying doesn't mean you're weak. It's actually been proven to be quite good for a person to cry. It's the people who hold it in who suffer the most.”

Hermione looked up. “I don't hold it in, Luna,” she admitted softly. “I just don't normally share it with anyone else.”

“That's not much better, Hermione,” Luna sighed. She placed her hand over Hermione's and gently squeezed her fingers. “You can share your moments like this with me any time you like. I'm always here.”

Hermione blinked rapidly as she openly stared at the seriousness Luna was expressing. “You mean that, don't you?” she asked in surprise.

Luna nodded as she searched Hermione's face. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and groaned, “I don't know if I can.”

Luna sat back in her seat and folded her arms as she watched Hermione try to regain control of her emotions. “Are you sure you don't want to try the Gnarish Dust?” she asked

Hermione shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “But thanks.”

“Can I ask you something?” Luna asked, all of the breeziness gone from her voice; her expression once again as serious as Hermione had ever seen it.

Hermione nodded, not quite trusting her voice.

“Does this have anything to do with either Ronald or Harry?”

Hermione smiled and dropped her head. “Suppose that wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?” she sighed.

Luna shook her head. “No, not really, seems a great deal of life's ups and downs have centered around Ronald and, or Harry…” she paused and put her hand on Hermione's arm, “…for all of us, not just you. You're not alone.”

Hermione looked up and smiled. “Thanks,” she whispered gratefully. “Just seems that for me it's not just a `great deal' of things…it's everything.”

“So what happened?”

“Harry happened.”

Luna smiled. “I see,” she said though her eyebrows were raised questioningly. “Finally realizing the truth, are you?”

Hermione's head jerked up, a frown creasing her forehead. “Pardon?”

Luna tilted her head and looked out across the room, just above Hermione's shoulder. She remained quiet for a moment as she contemplated how best to proceed. After a minute's silence she cleared her throat and focused her gaze on Hermione's scowl. “Why are you here, Hermione?” she asked flatly, her face void of any readable expression.

Hermione suddenly felt as though she'd come to the wrong place. She stood to leave when it felt as though an unseen force pulled her back down and she slumped back into the chair. “Did you do that?” she asked, casting a weary glance at Luna. “Are you using magic to keep me here?”

Luna shook her head. “Obviously there's something that you very much want to get off your chest, Hermione. I'm not forcing you to stay…” Luna leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, her protuberant gray eyes holding Hermione captive, “you won't let yourself go. Now tell me, why are you really here?”

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I needed to talk,” she said quickly, before she could lose all her nerve.

When Hermione paused, Luna nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Tears stung Hermione's eyes. “I'm getting married,” she managed to squeak through the knot in her throat

Luna moved her chair beside Hermione's and pulled her into an embrace. “You've known that for three months, Hermione. Have you been crying for that long, or is this something new? Is it nerves…” she pushed Hermione back and searched her eyes, “…or something more?”

Hermione sniffled and straightened her back. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she tried to swallow her tears. “So…much more,” she whispered brokenly.

Luna reached forward and smoothed Hermione's hair from her face in a gesture that seemed to somehow quiet her roiling emotions. “Tell me about it,” Luna soothed.

Hermione sat back in her chair, feeling surprisingly calm. She took a sip of her tea and stared into her cup. “Harry came to see me,” she began, her eyes never leaving the cup she held tightly in her hand. “I had to tell him…I had to admit the truth,” she looked up briefly, “not all of it, of course…” she added hastily then looked back down into her cup, “I couldn't tell him everything.” She quieted and shook her head. “Not everything.”

Luna was beginning to feel a bit anxious about where the conversation was going. She was worried that Hermione would shut herself off and never get to the essence of what was really bothering her. “Look at me,” Luna softly commanded.

Hermione's head rose immediately from her cup and she stared into Luna's eyes. “I'm not in love with Ron,” she blurted.

Hermione started at the sound of Luna's laughter. “What…?”

Luna raised her hand to quiet Hermione's question. “I'm sorry,” she said, her laughter slowly dying. “It's just…” she took a deep, calming breath, “I've always known that and for you to look so surprised by it just…” Luna took a deep breath. “I'm sorry,” she apologized. “Please, go on.”

“How could you know?” Hermione asked, perplexed. “I didn't even know it myself until the night he proposed.”

Luna stared at Hermione for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she contemplated how far she should take things. “It's in the way you act. The way you move, the way you talk…it's everywhere.”

“Are you saying that it's been obvious all this time?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Only to those of us who're paying attention,” Luna assured her. “I'm quite sure that people without a vested interest would see what I see when I look at you with Ronald.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she digested Luna's words. “What's your interest? What's made you take notice when so few others have?”

Luna stood up and carried her cup to the sink. “You're my friend, Hermione,” she said a little too quickly, “…as is Ronald,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, determined not to let her own sudden surge of emotions take away from Hermione's need. She turned around to face her friend straight on. “It's always been something I do,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I always sit back and quietly observe the goings-on of my friends…of the people who matter most to me.”

Hermione continued to eye her for a moment as a realization suddenly occurred to her. “A right fine mess we've made of it, haven't we?” she said with an exasperated sigh.

This time it was Luna's turn to look surprised. “Excuse me?”

“The way things turned out, you know, me and Harry, y…” she stopped herself short, and shook her head. “Never mind.”

Luna eyed Hermione a moment and then decided to let her comment slide. “How long has it been, Hermione?” Luna asked. “How long have you loved him?”

Hermione's head snapped up. “I just told you, I'm not…”

“…not Ronald,” Luna interrupted quietly. “Harry.”

“What…I'm not…” Hermione felt her world suddenly crashing down around her and she dropped her head, gasping for a breath.

Luna rushed over beside her and gently began rubbing her back. “Hermione, it's not the end of the world to admit it out loud, you know,” she said soothingly. “The world as you know it will continue to exist…the walls won't collapse, the sky won't fall,” Luna bent down and put her mouth close to Hermione's and whispered, “…and you just might find some peace of mind.”

Hermione's tears began to well once more. “It's not fair, Luna. All of this is just…”

Luna raised her eyes to the heavens and thought of Ron and how much of the past two years she'd spent loving him, waiting for him to realize that Hermione was in love with Harry…and him, her. She knew there was no way to make him realize it; it was something he'd had to figure out on his own. So, she'd sat back and watched until that day three months ago when she felt her heart shatter…

“I understand, Hermione,” she said gently. “More than you could ever know.”

Hermione raised swollen, bloodshot eyes to Luna. “Love shouldn't make you feel like this, should it?” she asked brokenly. “I've never cried like this or felt so helpless in my entire life.”

Luna stood up and returned to her chair, determined to get Hermione to admit her feelings aloud. “Tell me when you knew,” she urged. “Tell me when you first realized the truth.”

Hermione put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “It was the night that Ron proposed,” she admitted begrudgingly. “He held out that ring and when I looked into his eyes I saw a hesitation…hell,” she sighed, dropping her arms to the table, “I felt a hesitation.”

“Why didn't you say so at the time?”

“I tried,” she said with an underlying note of bitterness. “Molly entered the kitchen before I could say a word. She jumped to conclusions and next thing I knew, the entire house was full of people congratulating us. Everyone, that is except…”

“…Harry,” Luna said, supplying the last.

Hermione nodded. “He stood in the background, pretending to smile as one Weasley after another regaled us with good luck wishes. He never said a word, and I couldn't get close enough to tell him that it wasn't true. At the time, I didn't realize why it was so important that he know the truth, but I really wanted to tell him. I didn't know what he was thinking, I didn't dare ask. He was with Ginny, and I knew he was in love with her, I mean,” she frowned a bit and raised her hand to drop it helplessly to the table once more, “who wouldn't be? She's perfect.”

Luna couldn't quell the laughter that burst forth. “Perfect?” she quipped. “How on earth do you figure that?”

Hermione looked up at Luna, startled by her outburst. “Well, for starters, she's beautiful…”

Luna held up her hand to stop Hermione from saying anything further. “Beauty that is only skin deep does not make a person beautiful, Hermione. You, of all people, should know that. Your boys never looked at you as beautiful before that Yule Ball, did they?”

Hermione shook her head.

“You always felt that you were less than adequate in that department, didn't you?”

Hermione nodded, unable to provide verbal answers.

“But there they were, teenage boys…always by your side. Why do you suppose that is?”

Hermione shook her head. “Because we were friends?” she asked uncertainly.

“They had other friends, too, Hermione,” Luna said gently. “There were beautiful girls that any guy would've killed to hang out with and yet,” she lowered her head to meet Hermione's downcast eyes, “they still chose you. You were the only one who truly mattered.”

Hermione shrugged helplessly. “Homework?” she said with half-hearted grin.

“Because you have a beauty that comes from within,” Luna replied with a frown. “What you have is amazing. The way you care for your friends and stand up for those you feel have been wronged…Hermione, your heart knows no bounds. You're a lot like Harry in that way.”

Hermione glanced up at her, unable to speak.

“Over the years, what you have in here,” she placed her hand over her heart, “has just made you that much more beautiful on the outside. Beautiful to the point where now, Hermione…you're absolutely stunning. Do you ever look at yourself?” Luna put up her hand just as Hermione's mouth formed the word, “well” before any sound could escape. “I don't mean an occasional glance in the mirror. I mean really look at yourself.”

“I…don't know,” Hermione said slowly as she thought about the question. “Based on what you're saying, I don't guess I have. When I look at myself I just see a girl with no special, redeeming qualities. I'm just…me,” she shrugged.

“And yet, Harry Potter, the one wizard who could likely have any woman he wanted, fell in love with you, didn't he?”

Hermione shook her head hard. “No!” she replied adamantly. “He never said he's in love with me. He couldn't love someone like me…”

Luna reached out and grasped Hermione's hand forcing it over Hermione's heart. “It's from within, Hermione. What you have…what Harry sees…” she stressed, her voice growing louder, “is not only the woman you are on the outside—if that's the shallow kind of love Harry wanted, he could have found it anywhere…he found it once in Ginny, and yet he still left her. What he sees in you goes deeper than that, Hermione. I've watched him. Even when he was with Ginny, I watched him. Do you know what he was doing?”

Hermione's throat tightened and she shook her head.

“Watching you.”

Hermione continued to shake her head as Luna went on.

“All that time they were together, he spent watching you. And all that time you were with Ronald, do you know what you were doing?”

Hermione continued to shake her head, fearing what was coming next.

“Watching him.”

Hermione cleared her throat and attempted a deep breath. “How did it get so complicated?”

“The question is, what can you do about it now?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said sadly. “We're getting married in just a couple of days. All the arrangements have been made and everyone is so excited. My parents…”

“Everyone but the bride and groom,” Luna interrupted.

“S'cuse me?”

“Everyone but the bride and groom,” Luna repeated. “Everyone is excited except for the two most important people involved.”

“Point taken,” Hermione conceded. “Maybe I just won't show. Maybe I can just run away.”

“Runaway bride has been done,” Luna said with a teasing smile.

“I don't know that Harry loves me,” Hermione said returning Luna's smile with a melancholy one of her own. “What if I give up Ron and lose Harry, too?” she asked. “They've been such a part of my life that the whole thing scares me.”

Luna shrugged. “I don't know what to say, Hermione. I certainly can't tell you what to do. But I am curious about something…”

“Yeah?”

“Can you really marry Ronald if it means settling for someone you don't love? Even if it's not Harry, there's someone out there meant for you,” her voice softened, “…just like there's someone out there meant for Ronald.”

Hermione shook her head. “I don't know,” she said thoughtfully. “Can I?”

“Tell me how you feel, Hermione,” Luna urged in a desperate attempt to hear the words that could, potentially, change all of their lives forever. “You've told me you don't love Ronald, but you've never really told me how or why that is.”

“Because I can't,” Hermione said softly.

Luna leaned forward in anticipation. “Because…” she whispered anxiously.

Hermione dropped her head. “I'm in love with Harry.”

Luna's smile could've lit the most darkened of rooms when she heard the words she'd been waiting to hear since Hermione walked through her door.

“If you could marry him instead of Ronald, without preamble, without waiting for another day, would you?”

Hermione raised her head and nodded. “Of course,” she said quickly. “If I knew he loved me…” she sighed, “I'd marry him tomorrow.”

“Have you ever kissed him?” Luna asked suddenly.

Hermione looked at her in wide-eyed surprise and laughed lightly. “No,” she said as though the thought had never once occurred to her.

“You would marry him without knowing how that feels?” she asked. “How can you be so sure that he's the right man for you?” It was a question Luna had asked herself over the past two years…and she still didn't have an answer.

“Because I can't live without him. He's everything to me, Luna. He always has been. I don't need to kiss him to know that I could lose myself in him. I don't need anything more than what I already have…”

Her voice drifted and Luna waited in silence for a moment before speaking. “What's that?” she asked softly. “What do you already have?”

“Trust,” she said evenly. “For the first time in a long time, probably the first time ever, I trust my heart. And my heart is telling me that there will never be another Harry Potter in my life. This is it for me.” She looked up at Luna, although her thoughts were far away. “And I believe it.”

Luna felt a sudden anxious need to get away. There was somewhere she wanted to go and she wanted to go quickly. “You have a lot to think about in the next couple of days,” she said, forcing her voice to sound even.

“I think I should just run away,” Hermione said pensively. “It would make things a lot easier if I did. I don't know if I could stand up there marrying Ron, not with Harry standing beside him holding my heart.”

“Maybe you should talk to Harry again,” Luna suggested. “You need to find out the truth and the only way to do that is to go to the source. Maybe together you can figure something out.”

Hermione nodded. “I need to go at any rate,” she said, standing up. “I've taken up too much of your time already. Thank you for listening. I know it's not been easy to…”

When she left the sentence to hang, Luna stood and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry if things have been made more difficult for you,” Luna said softly near Hermione's ear. “That would never be my intention.”

Hermione slowly pulled from Luna's embrace and squeezed her friend's arms. “No, you haven't made things more difficult, you've just given me a lot to think about. Thank you.”

Luna nodded as Hermione turned around and made her way to the front door. “I appreciate this, Luna,” she said sincerely from where she stood on the porch. “And I'm sorry…for everything.”

Before Luna could respond, Hermione was gone.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Luna shut the door quickly and ran to the fireplace. She threw in a handful of floo powder and called out her destination. In an instant she found herself standing in the middle of Ron's flat.

“Ronald!” she called out. “Ronald, come quick.”

Ron came running from his room in a panic. He stopped the instant he saw Luna's shining face. “Merlin, Luna,” he breathed. “What's going on? You scared me.”

“We don't have much time,” she said, making her way to the sofa. “I'm not sure whether Hermione will be here soon or not.”

“Hermione…” Ron shook his head. “What are you going on about?”

He sat beside her on the sofa and she grabbed his hand. Ron looked at her in surprise before he let himself relax to her touch. “Hermione came to see me tonight,” she said, talking quickly. “She's in love with him, Ronald. She's in love with Harry.”

Ron jumped up from the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. “So what's this mean?” he asked earnestly. “What's she going to do?”

“She said something about running away.”

Ron turned abruptly to look at her. “I assume you heard it all?”

Luna nodded, understanding completely what Ron was referring to.

“Did you ask her?”

Luna nodded again, this time with a smile.

“And?” Ron asked, gesturing anxiously with his hand.

“Tomorrow,” Luna replied. “She said she'd do it tomorrow.”

Ron shook his head and smiled as a plan started to form in his mind.

Luna jumped up from the sofa to stand beside him. “What are you going to do?” she asked. “You can't really marry her knowing neither of you could ever be happy, can you?”

“Talk to her again, Luna,” Ron said abruptly. “Whatever you do, make sure she's at that wedding. Don't let her run away from me…I won't let her go that easily.”

-->

4. Chapter 4: The Wedding

Chapter 4: The Wedding

Luna took a step back and stared at Ron in disbelief, wondering if he'd changed his mind about his feelings toward Hermione. They'd talked about it often in the weeks leading up to the wedding and until now, Ron had never wavered in his belief that he and Hermione didn't belong together. She knew that whatever was going on in his mind would become clear to her very soon…the wedding was only days away.

Luna felt a twinge of guilt at the way her heart raced as cold, hard fear shot through her. He had never kissed her, they hadn't made any declarations of love…there were no promises. And still, she felt her heart breaking as Ron continued to stare at Hermione's photograph. She stepped into his line of sight and she could clearly see that his thoughts were no longer with her. She grabbed a handful of floo and without another word she stated her destination and was gone.

When she arrived home she immediately set to writing a letter to Hermione— before her emotions could get the best of her and she spent the rest of the night in tears…

Dear Hermione,

I realize you left here only an hour ago, but I've been sitting here, thinking about what you said and I'm begging you, Hermione…please do not run.

If you feel that you cannot cancel this wedding in time, then you still must show up at the ceremony. Cancel it there, in front of all your friends and family if you must. If you run you'll be leaving behind too many questions and things will be even more difficult for you when you decide to return.

There are some things in life that we can't run away from; no matter how much we might want to…this is one of them. You need to face this straight-on, there is no other way.

Personally, I'm not sure you could run far enough to escape Mrs. Weasley, anyway.

Please, Hermione, be there.

I will always be here, ready to talk … or to listen.

Your friend,

Luna Lovegood

She hardly knew what she'd written when she folded the letter and sent it off with an owl. All she could do for now was sit back and wait…and lose herself in a torrential rush of emotional heartbreak.

“Oh, Ronald…”

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

D-Day

Hermione was sitting on her bed, staring down at her wedding dress and dreading what was to come…

KNOCK KNOCK

She closed her eyes and attempted a deep breath. “Yes?” she said tightly.

Her mum opened the door and peeked in. “Almost ready?” she asked cautiously; after the argument they'd had the night before, Mrs. Granger had been feeling apprehensive about how Hermione was going to react to her that morning. When Hermione didn't answer, she entered and sat on the other side of the gown and frowned at her daughter's forlorn expression. “It's just nerves, sweetheart,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing, comforting voice. “Everything'll be all right once you get to the church.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, it won't!” she snapped. “I told you last night that I can't do this and I meant it, mum!” she fumed. “I can't go through with this. I won't!”

“Hermione, we've been planning this wedding nonstop for three months,” her mum replied exasperated. “Every spare minute has gone into getting the details just right. A lot of time and effort has gone into this. How can you back out the night before it's supposed to happen? I'll not accept that. Nor will Ron, I'm sure. You've been with him for over a year now. And how long were in love with him before that?” Without waiting for an answer she ploughed on. “I can assure you, Hermione, what you're feeling is perfectly normal. I'd say that nearly every bride has felt it right before the wedding. It'll be all right.” She stood and rubbed Hermione's shoulder affectionately. “Come on, sweetheart, start getting your things together,” she added, gesturing vaguely toward Hermione's dress and the makeup on her vanity. “Five minutes.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and fumed. “Parents!” she huffed angrily when her mum shut the door behind her. She walked to the vanity and saw Luna's letter lying there. She unfolded it and her eyes were drawn immediately to the words, Cancel it there, in front of all your friends and family if you must.

Hermione grabbed her dress and shoved her makeup into the first bag she found before running out her bedroom door. “Mum!” she shouted. “Mum, I'm ready!”

Her mum came from around the corner. “All right, sweetheart, let me just get my things.” She passed Hermione and frowned. “You're going to wrinkle that dress carrying it that way. I hope your hands are clean.”

“Just get your stuff, mum,” Hermione groaned. “Didn't you say it was time to leave?”

Within minutes they were driving down the road to the church and Hermione felt almost giddy as an idea began to form in her head. Her only concern was how she was going to get in touch with Ron before the ceremony…she didn't want to drop the news without first giving him a heads-up.

“I have to see Ron when we get there,” she informed her mum as they drove.

“Hermione, its bad luck to see the groom before the ceremony, you know that,” her mum chided. “Besides, you'll be seeing him everyday for the rest of your lives, I'm sure you'll survive the few hours before the ceremony.”

“It's my life!” Hermione shouted. “Why can't you people understand that? If it's bad luck I have to deal with then fine, I'll spend my life with a black cloud hanging over my head. I could really care less…I'm going to find Ron.”

She sat, determined to spend the rest of the ride in silence. Considering this was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she was feeling pretty miserable…not to mention downright obstinate.

Suddenly, a thought of wedding dresses and conversations and opinions entered her mind and her eyes went wide with fear. “Mum,” she said quietly. “That dress!” She looked behind her and then turned her panicked eyes to her mum. “It's not going to turn colors on me, is it? Please tell me it's not that mood dress thing Mrs. Weasley was talking about.”

Mrs. Granger shook her head. “I don't think so, sweetheart,” she replied. “So far as I know, we just got a plain, white dress that you could fix any way you liked.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and laid her head back against the headrest to quell her restless thoughts. Fifteen more minutes and they'd be at the church her family had attended for years…she only hoped she could stand up before God and all her family and friends and go through with her plan.

She closed her eyes and a vision of Harry standing at the front of the church filled her mind. She could hear the music playing and she watched the distance between them narrow as she walked down the aisle. Her heart raced as she drew nearer and she felt her own restrain as she fought the urge to run to him, scared he might disappear. The last few steps brought her to him and he held his hands out for hers. She grasped his hands as a silent tear slid slowly down her face. Harry leaned forward and kissed her cheek, “congratulations,” he whispered against her ear.

Hermione stepped back and looked questioningly into his eyes just as Ron appeared from behind him. “There she is,” Ron said softly. “You look beautiful, Hermione. I'm a lucky man.” He gently pulled on her arm and Harry let her go without a word…without a sound. Ron beamed down at her. “Aren't I a lucky man, Harry?”

Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head. “No,” she whispered fiercely. “Harry, no!”

She sat up, gasping for air when the car pulled to a stop at the church. “No,” she whispered again, more urgently this time. “This can't happen,” she breathed inwardly. “I can't let it.”

She jumped out of the car and ran full tilt toward the church, ignoring the shouts of “stop!” and “Hermione!” that were coming from her mum. She pushed through the door shouting Ron's name as she ran down the hallway.

After what felt like an eternity Ron stepped out of one of the rooms. “Hermione?” he said incredulously. “Hermione, what's wrong? What is it?” He pulled her through the door and into his arms. “Shh…” he softly crooned as he held tightly to her. “Tell me what's happened.”

Hermione buried her head in the familiar nook between his chest and arm. “I can't do this, Ron,” she murmured against him. “I'm so sorry…”

“Shh…” He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Come on, Hermione,” he said, gently pushing her back so he could look at her. “It's okay.”

Hermione shook her head. “No! It's not okay!” she cried. “If we go through with this, it'll never be okay.” She looked up at him and searched his face. “You do see that?”

Ron took Hermione's chin in his hand and raised her head until their eyes met fully. “Trust in me, Hermione,” he implored. He kissed her gently on the lips and forehead before releasing her completely. “Trust.”

Hermione nodded. “I do, Ron,” she said softly. “I do trust you. But I want to stand up in front of all our family and friends and tell them we can't do this. I want…” she paused momentarily to fully collect herself. “No, I need for Harry to see the truth.” She cast worried eyes at Ron, her gaze unwavering. “I love him,” she lowered her eyes and took a ragged breath, “God help me, Ron, I really do.” She met his eyes, placed her hand against his cheek, and whispered, “Forgive me, please. I didn't mean for this to happen.”

Inwardly Ron smiled at her admission. Outwardly he kept his feelings hidden behind a blank facade. “Trust, Hermione,” he said again. “Please, go get ready. Our mums are probably going spare.”

“Ron, I—”

“I'll see you out there in an hour,” he quietly interrupted. “Now go, before they start screaming about how this is bad luck or some other nonsense.”

Hermione kissed Ron's cheek. “I do love you, you know. And I'm putting all of my faith in you right now.”

“I know, Hermione,” Ron said quietly. “So am I.”

Hermione took a few steps toward the door then turned around. “Have you seen him?”

Ron shook his head. “Not yet,” he reluctantly admitted. “But don't worry about him. He'll be here.”

Hermione reached for the door and turned the handle, “That's what I'm afraid of,” she said just before closing it behind her.

She walked slowly down the hallway, figuring someone would eventually find her and direct her to where she needed to be. Not surprisingly, it happened almost immediately.

“There you are!” Ginny cried. “Mum sent me to find you. Thought maybe you'd run away or something,” she added with a laugh.

Hermione chuckled wryly. “Nope, not yet. Still here.” Although I'd like to run away, she thought wryly.

Ginny grasped her hand and pulled her along. “It's in here,” she said when they got to the door through which Hermione dreaded to go.

Hermione put her hand on the door. “Please, tell me there's a three-headed dog behind this,” she pleaded.

“Worse,” Ginny laughed. “Our mums.”

“Great,” Hermione groaned as she pushed open the door.

No sooner had she gotten through the door when a shout of, “Hermione Jane!” assaulted her.

“Mum, please,” she said, stalking through the door and slamming it shut behind her. “Give me a break.” She held her arms up in the air and shouted sardonically, “It's my wedding day, after all! Aren't we supposed to be happy?”

Mrs. Granger looked wide-eyed at Mrs. Weasley. “I'm so sorry,” she apologized. She turned back to Hermione, her face an angry red. “Hermione—”

Hermione put her hand in the air to cut her off. “Don't expect me to listen when you won't.” She grabbed the dress and tossed it to her mother. “Let's get this over with, shall we?”

For the next forty-five minutes Hermione allowed herself to be primped by her mum and Mrs. Weasley. When they finished, Mrs. Weasley magicked the wrinkles from her dress and smoothed a few stray hairs. “Are we ready then?” Hermione asked when they finally stepped away.

“Don't you want to look at yourself, sweetheart?”

“No,” she replied firmly, shaking her head. “Not really.”

Mrs. Weasley chuckled lightly and spun Hermione around by the shoulders. “You really must look, dear,” she said, stepping back so Hermione could take in the full view.

What she saw when she gazed into the mirror astounded her. She wasn't aware of any glamour spells being used, and yet she found it hard to believe that the girl who walked in would now be walking out a beautiful … woman. “Wow!” she said in awe. “How did you do this?”

“We didn't do much, dear,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. “You're a natural beauty. It shines from within.”

“Even when you're less than personable,” her mum mumbled under her breath. “Come on, sweetheart, it's almost time.”

Hermione stared at herself a moment longer and a brief image of a smiling Harry appeared beside her. She couldn't resist smiling back. I must be out of my mind, she thought when the image faded and she was once again left standing alone. She turned around to face the room. “Has anyone seen Luna?” she asked. “I need to speak with her privately for a minute.”

Ginny ran out the door and into the church before either Mrs. Granger or Mrs. Weasley could say a word. She returned a minute later with Luna in tow. “Will you excuse us?” Hermione asked looking pointedly at her mum and Mrs. Weasley.

“Yes, dear, we'll only be just outside.”

Hermione turned her head toward Luna and rolled her eyes. “I'm sure you will,” she muttered. Luna snickered softly and Hermione turned to the mums and smiled brightly. “Thank you, I'll be out in a shortly,” she replied forced enthusiasm.

The second they closed the door Hermione pulled Luna into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered against her ear. She pulled back and looked into Luna's watery eyes. “Do you know why I went to you the other night?”

“Well,” Luna started slowly, “it wasn't like you could go to Ginny with Harry problems.”

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I went to you because I knew I could trust you to say what I needed to hear, and not to pacify me with what you thought I wanted to hear. The letter you sent me, do you remember what you wrote?”

Luna shrugged and nodded. “Sort of,” she replied vaguely. Her eyes glazed over as she remembered the way she felt that night and how upset she'd been about the way Ron had reacted to the news she'd given him. She felt it cut deeper when she thought again about how they hadn't spoken since.

“In the letter,” Hermione's voice cut into her thoughts and she was brought promptly back to the present.

“Uh-huh?” Luna said, shaking her head to loosen the hold thoughts of Ron had on her.

“…you told me to put an end to everything in front of all of our family and friends if I had to…and you were right. I've come here today to do that.” She raised her hand when Luna opened her mouth to speak. “I know that you love Ron. I've spent a lot of time thinking about our conversation over the past couple of days…I've thought about little else, to be honest. You deserve to be happy, Luna, and I refuse to take that opportunity away from you.” She put her hand on Luna's shoulder and smiled. “Assuming Ron loves you in return.”

Luna dropped her head. “He never said as much, but I thought he did,” she said softly. “But now I'm not so sure.” She looked up at Hermione, searching her eyes. “Have you talked to Ron about this?”

“A little,” Hermione nodded, focusing her gaze on a spot beyond Luna's shoulder. “He told me to trust him, so that's what I'm going to do. Because it doesn't matter, Luna, if he can't stand up to his family and mine,” she paused and turned her head until their eyes met, “…I damn sure can. This charade ends today. Sit near the front, okay? Sit nearest you can to me and Ron.”

Luna nodded and hugged Hermione once again. “Thank you,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “I don't know if I have a chance,” she pulled back and looked gratefully into Hermione's eyes, “but it looks like my odds are about to improve quite a lot.”

Hermione linked her arm through Luna's as she prepared to walk out of the dressing room. Before they could move, Hermione turned a narrow-eyed glance to Luna and she smiled, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Tell me something…”

“Mmhmm?” Luna hummed with a smile of her own.

“Is there really such a thing as gnarish dust?

“I knew you were going to ask me that eventually,” Luna laughed.

“Well?” Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

Luna shook her head lightly, her cheeks turning a pale pink, and her large gray eyes shining mischievously.

Hermione's eyes widened. “You mean you made that whole thing up? Right then and there?”

Luna shrugged. “Had to keep you talking,” she said nonchalantly. “I was afraid you were going to leave before we even got to talk. I had to find a way to keep you there.” She looked at Hermione with her own eyebrow raised. “And what better way than to talk about something I knew you'd never heard of?”

Hermione laughed as she pushed open the door of the dressing room. “I knew you were good Luna,” she said incredulously, “…but I had no idea you were that good. Thanks.”

Luna squeezed Hermione's arm. “Anytime, Hermione,” she said, her voice returning to its as-of-late seriousness. “Remember that.” She looked around and suddenly pulled her arm from Hermione's. “I'm going to get my seat,” she said, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes. “Looks like everyone else is already inside.”

Hermione looked around and for the first time, it dawned on her that her father was waiting alone. “Where's everyone else?” she asked, although inside she was quite relieved to find them gone.

“They've already gone inside,” Mr. Granger said holding out his arm. “Are you ready for this?”

Hermione looped her arm through his and took a step forward. “I can't go through with this, daddy. I want you to know.”

Mr. Granger nodded. “I understand.”

Hermione stopped and turned to look at him. “How?”

“I've had my suspicions,” her father laughed. “You can't very well convince two mums hell-bent on creating the wedding of the millennium now, can you?” He held her chin in his free hand and forced her to meet his eyes. “What are you going to do? Do you want me to put a stop to it?”

Hermione shook her head. “No thanks, daddy,” she replied, her strong, firm voice belying the fear she felt flowing through her in waves. “I allowed it to go this far, I'll find my own way out of it.”

Mr. Granger smiled. “That's my girl,” he said with obvious pride. “I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner, pumpkin. I would've tried to talk to your mum if I'd known all the facts…or even some of them. You'd been hiding things pretty well up until a few days ago…” he squeezed her arm and winked, “when Harry came by.”

Hermione felt her face flush and she turned from him until she was facing the door of impending doom. “I'm scared, daddy,” she whispered softly.

“As you should be,” he replied in the same soft whisper. “Let's go.”

They stood in the doorway, waiting for the music to start. Hermione leaned toward her father. “Hold me tightly, daddy, Harry's going to be up there.”

Mr. Granger nodded and the music started. Together they walked forward, Hermione trying desperately to keep her eyes looking anywhere but at the party gathered at the opposing end of the aisle. The gasps and awes went unnoticed as her thoughts became tangled and nearly incoherent. She squeezed her father's arm and held on for dear life. When they stopped in front of the place where Ron waited, Mr. Granger pried himself loose, kissed Hermione on the cheek, and took a step back to sit in his seat beside her mum.

Ron put out his hand and hesitantly Hermione reached for it. “Trust,” she mouthed in silent reminder. Ron tipped his head in a nearly imperceptible nod.

They stood side by side, holding hands, and looking out at their many guests. To the outside world they looked like a couple grown together into a union of solidarity. Inside, their hearts were fit to burst with the shocking truth. The preacher cleared his throat and Hermione turned to smile at him. “You look beautiful, Hermione,” he said kindly. “I can't believe how much you've grown.”

Hermione's eyes clouded over and she nodded. “Thank you.”

The preacher scanned her eyes and he frowned. “Everything all right?”

Hermione shook slightly as her anxiety built. “Yes, father,” she whispered. “Everything's fine.”

“Ah, nerves,” he said, smiling again. He cleared his throat and looked at Mr. and Mrs. Granger. “Who here gives this woman's hand in marriage?”

The Grangers made to stand and Ron put out his hand, urging them to stay seated. He took a step away from Hermione and proclaimed, “I do,” to the shock of all in attendance.

The preacher looked out over the crowd and chuckled lightly. “Well, son, that's quite nice,” he said a bit apprehensively, “but unfortunately, you're the groom. It's not proper for you to—”

Ron once again held up his hand and the preacher stopped talking at once. Soft murmurs began to buzz around the room and Ron cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me!” he said loudly. “Can I have your attention, please?”

The buzz stopped almost at once as all eyes turned to Ron. “It is with much regret that I inform you I will not be getting married today.”

Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet. “What!?!” she screamed. “Ronald Bilius Weasley you…” she shook her finger at him as the words she wanted to scream became lodged in her throat.

All around them voices grew louder with speculation. “Quiet!” Ron hollered. “If you lot'll shut it, I'll explain.”

Once again the buzzing stopped almost immediately and all attention was focused on the couple before them. Ron looked out amongst their family and friends, his eyes stopping to rest on Mr. and Mrs. Granger. “I'm sorry,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I love your daughter, sir, I really do,” he began. “In fact, I'd have to say that I love her enough to save her from a life of misery…” he paused and looked at Hermione before continuing, “but not enough to make her my wife. That's not the kind of love we share.” He looked back out into the crowd, only this time his eyes sought Luna's and his voice dropped lower. “I'm not sure that it ever was.”

Hermione smiled from beside him and followed his gaze to where it rested upon Luna. Her heart leapt at the chance they would now have and slowly she released the breath she'd been saving for just this moment.

Hermione started when Ron stepped aside and pushed Harry forward to stand beside her. “Look at these two,” Ron said his voice booming. Harry and Hermione turned to look at each other and in an instant, everything else slipped away. “This is what it looks like,” Ron continued. “This is what it's supposed to be.”

Harry and Hermione each took a step toward the other and reached out their hand. The moment their hands touched, Hermione's dress turned a light shade of blue. Molly gasped and collapsed back into her seat. Ron looked down at Harry and Hermione and smiled. “You know what that means, don't you mum?” he asked indicating the new color of the dress.

Molly nodded, albeit reluctantly. Her eyes roved worriedly to Ginny's face. Her brow crinkled as she followed Ginny's gaze to where Dean sat, not far behind her. Inside her, the knot in her stomach began to uncoil as she turned her attention back to Ron.

Ron stepped over to Harry and Hermione and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “The truth came out in the past few days…” he said, once again addressing the crowd, “the whole truth behind mine and Hermione's engagement. The way conclusions were jumped to before Hermione even said yes to my proposal. The way we've been manipulated by our mums so they could plan the perfect wedding. And the fact that Hermione isn't in love with me…that her heart does, in fact, belong to Harry.” The noise of the crowd grew in intensity and Ron heard the faintest mumblings of, “how could she do that to him?” and “and just before the wedding, too.”

Ron put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to recapture everyone's attention. “Now, before you go on about how wrong it is that Hermione's in love with someone else let me finish. First of all, I need to say that she's not alone in that. I'm not in love with her either and I never should have proposed. Had I thought it through more carefully all of this could have been avoided.” He chanced a glance at Luna and sighed. “But,” he continued, “that's all in the past now, we can't go back and undo what's happened so it's time to move forward. Over the course of the past few days, it's come to light that not only is Hermione in love with Harry, but he's in love with her as well.” All around the church audible sighs could be heard from nearly every unattached female.

Mrs. Granger stood up. “So what is this about?” she demanded. “Where are you going with this? My daughter's never even dated Harry, how could she possibly….”

Mr. Granger pulled her back down into her chair. “Not right now,” he whispered fiercely.

Mrs. Granger, however, wasn't backing down and she looked back up at Harry, Hermione, and Ron. “How could she know she's in love with him?” She wrapped her arms around her husband's neck as he pulled her into his arms. “This isn't making any sense,” she cried. She looked directly into Hermione's eyes. “How is this happening?” she implored.

Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulder. “I know you'd like to hear Hermione address that question, Mrs. Granger, but I have something to say first.” He looked at Hermione for approval and at her nod, he continued. “I've had a lot of time to think over the past few days and I've been trying to determine when it was that I should've started to see the signs. It took a while before I finally realized that I couldn't because the truth is…they've always been there. We've stood together for many years, adventure after adventure, one life-or-death situation after another, and I can assure you that what they're feeling right now has only grown through the years. I can't find a starting point because at eleven years old, you're not looking for one. And I'd bet everything I have— everything I will ever have— on the fact that they've loved each other from the beginning.”

When Ron finished, sniffles could be heard from all around the church. Hermione wiped her own eyes and turned to hug Ron. “I love you,” she mouthed as she pulled him closer for a kiss. “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

He stood up tall and wrapped his arms around the shoulders of his two best friends. “I have a proposition,” he stated, looking from Harry to Hermione. “One kiss, that's it.” He looked out at Mr. and Mrs. Granger. “Just one kiss. If they can walk away from each other when it's over then we'll all walk away…” he looked at his mum challengingly, “or, I'll marry her…right here, right now.”

Harry and Hermione turned to face each other and brown eyes met green in a heated stare. “I don't even need this, Hermione,” Harry rasped. “I already know how I feel. I couldn't deny it to myself no matter how hard I tried. I need you.”

Hermione cupped his jaw with her hands and moved closer. “I need you, too,” she whispered softly. “And I love you.”

Harry licked his lips and pulled her to him, Hermione licked hers and smiled tenderly. Moments later their lips met and they fell against each other, Hermione's arms wrapping around his neck and Harry's tightening their hold on her waist. All around them people were forgotten. The world disappeared and they were all that existed. Hermione's dress turned a fiery red and all around them people gasped and began to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Mrs. Granger turned to look at Molly. “I thought we didn't get that dress!” she whispered fiercely.

Mrs. Weasley shrugged innocently, her eyes wide.

Fred and George sniggered as they watched the exchange. “My turn,” whispered Fred. George lowered his wand and Fred raised his just enough to point it at Hermione's dress, turning it such a deep shade of red that it appeared almost purple.

After so many years of the twins' capers and pranks, Mrs. Weasley was fine-tuned to their mischievous sniggers and she rolled round on them quickly. “Fred! George!” she hissed.

The two men started and tried their best to look innocent. George shrugged his shoulders and Fred tried to smile without bursting out in laughter. When Molly turned around they quietly released their pent up laughter and George reluctantly returned Hermione's gown to white.

No one noticed Ron gesture to Luna or her subsequent appearance at his side. “It's time to give us a try,” he murmured against her ear. “Are you ready?” Luna nodded and pulled him down to her to share their first kiss.

Slowly Harry and Hermione parted, staring into each other eyes as they struggled to catch their breath between more chaste kisses.

Ron cleared his throat and Harry and Hermione were quickly, albeit reluctantly, brought back to reality. Ron looked out at their family and friends and quipped, “So, are there any objections?”

All around them heads were shaking. Hermione walked down to her parents and drew them both into a hug. “I love you,” she whispered tightly through the lump in her throat. She turned to face her mum. “I tried to tell you I couldn't marry Ron.”

Mrs. Granger put her hand to her daughter's cheek. “I know you did, sweetheart,” she closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek, “and I am so, so sorry for refusing to listen. Forgiven?”

Hermione glanced back at Harry and smiled. “I don't think I could be angry at anyone right now,” she said, turning back to face her mum. “But it won't be easy to forget later.”

Her mum nodded and caressed Hermione's cheek. “I understand. We'll talk about it later.”

Harry appeared next to Hermione, putting his arm around her waist as he shook Mr. Granger's hand. “If she'll have me, Mr. Granger, I'd like to marry your daughter.” He glanced at Hermione with sparkling eyes before turning his attention back to Mr. Granger. “If that's all right with you,” he added with a nervous chuckle.

Hermione jerked her head around to stare at Harry, her heart about to burst through her chest. “Oh, yes!” she cried. “Please, daddy,” she pleaded. “Please say yes.”

“Yes,” Mr. Granger replied without hesitation. “If it's what you both want, who am I to stand in the way? By all means, yes.”

Hermione flew into Harry's arms. “Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure it's me you want?”

Harry put up his hand to caress her cheek. “I've never wanted anything more,” he whispered sincerely. “We have some planning to do, don't we?”

Hermione nodded. “We can start right away,” she said, feeling truly excited for the first time that day.

Neither heard Ron step up behind them and they started when his hand fell on their shoulder. “Sorry guys, just one more thing.” He directed them back up to the front and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. “Both Harry and Hermione were asked a simple question a few days ago and, remarkably enough,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “they both came up with the same exact answer…or, well, near enough anyways.” He looked down at Harry and Hermione and asked them again, “Would you marry,” he looked at Hermione, “him,” he looked at Harry, “her,” he looked between them, “if things could be different?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled. “I'd marry him [her] tomorrow,” they said together in a repeat of what they'd already confessed to Ron and Luna.

Ron smiled down at them. “And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, today's bride and groom.” He stepped back and waved his arms with a flourish at the couple.

“So without further adieu,” shouted Fred.

“Let's get this wedding started!” shouted George.

Harry and Hermione hugged tightly, neither wanting to let go of the other until finally Harry whispered, “Walk to me, Hermione,” into her ear.

Hermione felt the shiver run through her body and she stepped back to rub the goose bumps from her arms and nod her head. She kissed his cheek then stepped down to take her parent's hands to walk out of the church. When they reached the hallway Hermione grinned. “Come with me, mum?” she asked. “I need your help for a minute.”

Mrs. Granger nodded and followed her daughter into the room where Hermione had gotten ready earlier. Hermione walked to the mirror and frowned at the way her makeup had dulled through the tears she'd cried. She began to wipe at the smudges under her eyes. “Let me help you with that,” her mum said, stepping up with a soft cloth. “Hermione, there really are no words to tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted. But,” she said before Hermione could interrupt, “in my own defense, I truly did believe it was nerves. Why didn't you tell me you were in love with Harry?”

Hermione looked into her mum's eyes and softly asked, “How could you not know?”

Mrs. Granger refocused her gaze on Hermione's face as she continued to clean the mascara from beneath her eyes. “How long have you known?” she asked after a moment's silence.

Hermione took a deep breath. “For sure, since the night that Ron proposed.” She looked past her mum, deep in thought. “In truth,” she shrugged, “I can't pinpoint a time…forever, I suppose.”

“He has always been the one I call when you've needed someone,” her mum said thoughtfully. “It just hadn't dawned on me how it is that he's the only one whose ever been able to get through to you. I've never given much thought to it, really. I suppose I should've been looking with my eyes open…sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees, sweetheart. I'm sorry.”

“Me too,” Hermione replied. “But now,” she threw her arms together and squealed excitedly, “now everything's all right. It's better than all right,” she shouted, throwing her arms around her mum's neck. “It's perfect!” She stepped back and looked into her mum's eyes, her expression suddenly serious. “I do love him, mum. Regardless of all the things we haven't yet experienced together, I do love him.”

Her mum smiled. “I know, sweetheart.” She placed her hand against Hermione's cheek. “My eyes are open now and I promise you…I can see it.”

Moments later Hermione was standing before the doors to the church, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, as they waited for the doors to open and the music to start. “I love you, daddy,” she said, clinging tightly to his arm. “And I can do it this time,” she added with a laugh.

Mr. Granger laughed with her. “That's my girl,” he said, squeezing her arm with his free hand. “You look radiant.”

“Thank you,” she replied just as the doors opened and the music began to play. She glanced at him, her eyes shining and opening exaggeratedly. “Don't let me run,” she said, skipping for the first step. Her father chuckled and held her back just a bit as they began their walk.

Harry stood on the other end of the aisle, smiling across at her and looking more handsome than ever. She held tight to her daddy's arm and forced herself to concentrate on taking one slow step at a time. When finally she stood in front of him, he reached for her hands and pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear.

Ron stepped forward and kissed the top of Hermione's head. “You look beautiful, Hermione,” he said softly. “Harry's a very lucky man.”

Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione and smiled. “Yes, I am,” he said, looking at her affectionately. He turned to look at the preacher. “Anytime you're ready, sir, I'd love to make this woman my wife.”

A soft chuckle sounded throughout the church then the preacher cleared his throat and began the ceremony.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Hermione turned to face their family and friends as husband and wife…

“It is my honor to present to you, Mr. and …?” he looked at Hermione hesitantly, not knowing if she was taking Harry's name or not. Hermione nodded and shrugged her okay. “Mrs. Harry James Potter! Husband and wife!” he finished loudly.

Harry and Hermione shared a kiss then stepped into the maelstrom of well-wishers. Hermione turned around to search for Ron, who was standing across the room holding onto Luna's hand as he watched his friends with a smile of contentment on his face. “Thank you,” she mouthed when their eyes met. Ron nodded and wrapped his arms around Luna and kissed the top of her head to show Hermione that everything was good…that they'd both gotten exactly what they wanted.

“Someone's got to change the cake!” shouted George above the crowd.

“I'll do it!” Fred shouted in return, and the two men raced each other to the adjacent reception room.

Harry and Hermione laughed as they heard Mrs. Weasley's voice shouting, “Don't you boys touch that cake! Do you hear me? Fred? George? You better listen to me boys. Boys!?!”

Harry leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I love you Mrs. Potter.”

Hermione straightened and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too, Mr. Granger,” she whispered back with an impish grin.

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A/N: I realize that Ron is much more mature in this than we might believe him to be, but sometimes it's necessary to write him OOC. *wink*

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