A/N: I'm back! It's been a rather long time since I've updated this story; simply because I hit a bit of a wall after the last chapter. I've written this chapter several different ways, and somehow I haven't managed to make it work quite the way I wanted it to. However, I've concluded that attempting to rewrite this again would be rather redundant. So, here it is. Enjoy.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Despite the chaos that seemed to reign in his daughter's household this week, Mr. Granger felt himself possessed by an extraordinary calm. Weddings, he mused, brought out either a person's slightest inconsistencies of character, or else the most prominent features of their nature to the extreme. As a result, it was nearly impossible for him to find a moment of silence anywhere, since he was constantly being engaged as a sixth for a game of football, a handkerchief for a distressed child (and more recently, for a distressed wife or daughter), or the advisor for a flummoxed future son-in-law.
Truthfully, it had taken him more than just a few days to adjust to being surrounded by children. He liked them all, of course-they were generally friendly children, and never unduly impudent-but he simply couldn't fathom the idea of them being his. But after a week of hugs, pranks, and good nights, he'd started to let his guard down.
Presently, he was helping Dusty put together a massive, five hundred piece puzzle of Hogwarts Castle. It was, admittedly, disconcerting, watching the puzzle move, but Mr. Granger enjoyed the quiet immensely. The workroom was the designated break room, and as none of the women in the house could ever be persuaded to take a break, Mr. Granger was also the designated workroom supervisor.
"If you organize the pieces according to colour, it's easier," Katy advised him from next to him. Mr. Granger blinked and scrutinized the pieces more closely.
"They're all brown."
"Well, look at the way the light strikes this one," Katy said, pushing a piece toward him, "The sun's striking that part of the castle right now-you'd better hurry, though, since it's nearly noon, and the sun will move."
Mr. Granger rubbed his chin and squinted.
"See, look-here's the edge of the window." Katy put the piece in place. "And then-look, it's an owl! If you follow it, it'll appear in another one of the pieces-look!"
She pointed at another of the pieces triumphantly. "Those two should fit together."
"Why don't you take over for a while?" Mr. Granger said, "I'm only slowing Dusty down."
"Okay," Katy said, smiling at him cheerily. "You finished a whole row!"
"I suppose I did," Mr. Granger said with some surprise. "How long did it take me?"
Katy looked at him apologetically. "About an hour."
Mr. Granger rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Hmph. That sounds about right."
Katy smiled at him warmly.
"That's all right, Grandfather. It takes me a long time, too. Just watch."
Mr. Granger slid over on the bench to allow Katy some room, glancing over to the corner where Gulliver lay dozing, Jackie snuggled against him.
Yes, he thought again, the workroom was a soothing place to be. He wondered if his wife wouldn't benefit from a turn as workroom supervisor. It was a part of Helen's nature, of course, but she was very concerned about what ought to be. Not in a prideful way, but in a peculiarly noble way-injustices infuriated her, snobbery irritated her, and dishonesty injured her. And lately, Mr. Granger could tell that Helen felt that something in her relationship with her daughter was not as it ought to be. He did his best to console her, of course-and lately, Helen had spent a good amount of time in Hermione's company-but he could see the wistful look in Helen's eyes.
He wondered if this concern with `ought-to-be' had been the reason she had been so unsettled by magic. It baffled him, of course, but he'd become accustomed to the owls, the flashes of light, the unfamiliar terminology. The only thing that he simply couldn't stand was that Appearing-Apparating-thing everyone did. The noise reminded him of a gunshot.
He sighed and picked up his crossword, lying abandoned on the end of the bench.
Helen had also struggled to adapt to the concept of having, all of a sudden, seven grandchildren. More than once she'd fretted over her age, something with which she'd become extraordinarily occupied.
Hermione had, after all, been a bit of a surprise. He and Helen had married in their mid-thirties, and Hermione was born a few days after his fortieth birthday. It was rather disconcerting, he thought, to realize that he was, in fact, nearly thirteen years Mrs. Weasley's senior.
"I finished the tower," Katy said happily, "look. You can see the people moving inside and everything."
"Well done," Mr. Granger said, putting down his crossword without realizing he'd done nothing with it. "That was quick."
Katy smiled bashfully.
"Well, I had the easy part," she said, "I only had to finish the edges."
"Nevertheless," Mr. Granger said, smiling at her. On impulse, he put his arm about her and hugged her (a little awkwardly, it was true, but judging by the big smile on Katy's face, she didn't mind.)
Yasmine had wandered into the room, her face obscured by the cover of a book.
"Mama sent me in here," she explained absently, "I was getting in the way."
She lowered the book and peered at the puzzle.
"That's the Gryffindor Tower," she said, in an authoritative manner that struck Mr. Granger as rather familiar, "I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
"Do you think we could see Mama and Dad in the picture?" Katy said excitedly, bending closer, "I never even thought about that part-"
"I don't know," said Yasmine, shrugging and returning to her book. "Maybe. If they were in the castle when Colin took the picture."
"I just wish I could figure out how these pictures work." Katy said, in what Mr. Granger termed agitated curiosity. "Dean tried to explain it to me, but it didn't make any sense-"
"It's just magic," Yasmine said, sounding a little impatient, "that's all."
Mr. Granger felt himself smile again.
"You sounded just like Hermione did when she was your age," he said, unintentionally voicing his thoughts aloud. "Both of you."
"Really?" Yasmine and Katy said together.
"Well-- yes." he said uncertainly, and he was taken aback to see them both beaming at him, their cheeks flushed.
"I'm glad," Yasmine said passionately.
"Me too," Katy agreed, her blue-green eyes dancing. "And Grandfather knows-he's her father."
A thoughtful look then crossed her face.
"Do you suppose we're a bit like you, too, Grandfather?"
He thought for a moment.
"I suppose you might be," he said, slowly. Katy put her hands on his arm.
"I hope so," she said, "we're family, after all."
He looked at Katy's earnest expression, the wide-open smile in her eyes, and he chuckled quietly, his eyes feeling rather misty.
"That we are," he said, softly, and with that, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
Moments later, he found himself enveloped in a rather uncomfortably tight embrace-Yasmine squished into his side and Katy sitting in his lap-and somehow, Mr. Granger found he didn't mind.
~*~
Ben was glad to have finally come home, especially at the conclusion of his exams, but it rather seemed like he scarcely had any time to himself. He and his friends-for Hermione had allowed him to invite friends over the summer break-had enjoyed a splendid few days playing in the backyard with the dog, climbing trees, idling in the park, and spending time in the house with his family. Then, of course, the preparations began.
It wasn't that he minded working, not really-it was just that he wished his friends hadn't been recruited as well. He privately wondered if they weren't just a little too much in awe of his parents to complain.
"I think that tablecloth is about finished," said Audrey, breaking Ben's reverie with a bit of a laugh. "You've ironed the same spot about a million times."
"Have not," Ben said, propping up the iron and handing her the tablecloth anyway. "Boring, isn't this?"
"Not nearly as boring as you make it out to be," Audrey said, shaking her head, "Come on, everyone else is taking a break in the backyard. There's lunch."
"I'm not hungry." When she gave him a look, he gave in and followed her out of the living room onto the porch. Nathan, Sam, and Jacob waved at them from the tree fort.
"Oh, there you are, Ben," said Hermione as they crossed the porch, "I was beginning to think you were going to miss lunch."
She was sitting in their newly installed porch swing, the little Teddy Lupin dozing peacefully in her arms. Ben couldn't help but notice how at ease his mother looked, and suddenly felt rather guilty for complaining. He hadn't seen her so relaxed in ages.
"Is there anything left?"
"I think the boys saved something for you," she said, smiling. "Don't look guilty, Ben, you've worked the hardest of all of us. Take a break."
Audrey laughed suddenly.
"Look, Ben, his hair changed colour."
Ben looked down, just as Teddy's brilliant blue mop rippled into a feathery brown.
"He looks like you, Mama," Ben commented, "where's Mrs. Tonks?"
"She's gone to take a rest," Hermione said, "She's caught a bit of a cold, I think. In fact, I ought to check on the Pepper-Up potion-do eat your lunch, Ben. You look tired."
She stood up, easily shifting Teddy so that his head rested comfortably on her shoulder-he stirred, making a few tiny noises of protest, and relaxing again.
"He's snoring," Ben said, laughing, "It's like his whole body moves when he breathes."
Hermione laughed, putting a hand on the back of Teddy's head.
"He's worn out from all the excitement," she said fondly, and, looking between Ben and Audrey somewhat apologetically, she added, "Very much like the rest of us."
She paused for a moment.
"This hasn't been a particularly restful week," she said. "I'm sure this isn't how you envisioned the first week of summer."
"I've had a wonderful time," said Audrey, "honestly, I have. My parents usually take an adults-only trip the first week of summer, and I just stay at home with my great-aunt. This is much better."
"I'm glad," Hermione said, smiling. "If you need anything, just let me know. I'll be in the workroom."
As Hermione went back into the house, Ben and Audrey crossed the lawn to the tree house. Ben followed Audrey up the ladder into the fort, where he settled against the railing beside Sam.
"Took you long enough," said Jacob, "where've you been?"
"Ironing," Ben said, "It's as dull as anything, but at least it's done. Thanks," he added, as Jacob reluctantly passed him a sandwich.
"I was going to eat it myself," said Jacob, which was his way of saying `you're welcome'. "Did you build this tree fort by yourself?"
"Everyone helped," Ben said, swallowing, "Jack and Adrian did most of it, though. While I was at school."
"I love your family," Sam said, sprawling on her stomach with her chin propped up on her elbows. "I love your house. In fact, while we're here, your parents might as well adopt me too."
"Yeah, sure, Sam," said Jacob, rolling his eyes. "Hey, is Nathan asleep?"
"Whatever you're thinking of doing," said Nathan, without opening his eyes, "don't do it."
"I wasn't going to do anything," said Jacob in a voice of injured innocence, surreptitiously retracting his lemonade from above Nathan's head.
Nathan snorted and made himself more comfortable against the railing.
"No one ever believes me," said Jacob, "not even your little sister. Nearly knocked me over for trying to convince her that it was possible to lick your elbow."
"Which one?"
"Yasmine," Jacob said, "didn't you hear your mum telling her off for whacking me in the shoulder?"
"I knew I liked her," said Sam, with a look of great amusement. "Dusty doesn't say much, does he?"
"Not much, no," said Ben, "It's just the way he is."
"Nathan can be just as quiet," Sam said, "dead boring, sitting next to him in History of Magic. He actually pays attention."
"At least I don't set Professor Slughorn's pineapple on fire," said Nathan, still without opening his eyes.
"One of my finer moments," said Sam, without missing a beat, "Who knew skipping just one step in a potions recipe would have such fantastic results?"
~*~
"Where's Hermione?"
"Off with Molly deciding on silverware," said Mr. Weasley, shaking his head. He smiled a little when Harry's face fell. "Brighten up, Harry. She'll be around."
"Well, I know, but-" Harry began to protest, but appeared to think better of it, and changed the subject. "Yeah, I guess I'll see her tonight-sometime…"
He did not add that while he'd seen Hermione at dinner almost every day this week, they'd hardly been alone. He'd felt somewhat obliged to talk with the Grangers, or the Weasleys, or even Mrs. Tonks. And of course all of the kids were rowdier than ever, with the four of Ben's friends adding even more chatter to the table. When Hermione had volunteered to wash the dishes, he'd volunteered as well-but Mrs. Weasley, misunderstanding with the best intentions, insisted that she wouldn't have the bride and groom cleaning dirty dishes, and insisted on doing them herself.
Harry wouldn't have minded scrubbing potatoes off a few plates if he and Hermione had gotten a chance to talk.
"Reporter rang for you," said Mr. Weasley, motioning at the phone. He spoke in an unconvincingly casual manner; he was clearly proud of not only having answered the phone, but of using the correct terminology. "He wanted an interview, of course, but I told him you weren't giving interviews at the moment."
"Thanks," Harry said, "Has Dean been around, by the way? He wanted to ask me
something."
Mr. Weasley took a bite of his bacon and tomato sandwich and shook his head.
"I'm sure he'll come around soon."
He tilted his head.
"You looked tired, Harry," he said, frankly, "take a bit of a lie-down?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck.
"I might, actually," he said, presently, "thanks."
Mr. Weasley smiled sympathetically.
"Hang tight. It's only a couple more days."
Harry smiled wearily. "Yeah. Only a couple."
With that, he turned and wandered into the living room. Kicking off his shoes, he sank onto the couch and closed his eyes.
Somehow, I can't wait until this week is over.
~*~
"If I see one more camera before the wedding-" Hermione muttered, maneuvering her way through the doorway, "Jackie, dear, would you mind getting the door? Thank you-"
Jackie beamed and scampered off.
"I told you I'd get the groceries," said Ginny, hoisting the brown paper bag and following Hermione into the kitchen. "You won't be able to go out without being mobbed this close to the wedding, and besides, we've only got a half an hour before the rehearsal."
"What more could they possibly have to say?" Hermione demanded, looking decidedly flustered and out of sorts, "We've been engaged for months; they've all run at least a dozen stories on the wedding, and if they take one more picture of me I'll go blind!"
"You're the couple of the century; you can't expect-"
"The couple of the century? Rubbish," Hermione said, who seemed determined to be in a bad mood. "We're not royalty-"
"You're as good as," Ginny said, "You're marrying Harry Potter."
Hermione closed her eyes and massaged her temples. The restful effects of the afternoon were definitely worn off by this point, and she wished Ginny hadn't reminded her of the rehearsal dinner.
"Are you okay?" Ginny said, softly.
Hermione sighed and, after taking a long, deep breath, shook her head.
In a rare show of gentleness, Ginny reached out and put her hand on Hermione's arm.
"D'you feel like talking about… anything?"
Hermione looked away, groceries forgotten.
"I just… well… we haven't seen each other all week, not really. And I feel as though… as though this is the time we ought to be spending together-right now, before everything changes!"
Without speaking, Ginny handed Hermione a tissue. She didn't feel as though she knew what to say-a rare event in itself. But the times that Hermione really broke down-the times when she was the most vulnerable-they, too, were few and far between. So Ginny simply let Hermione cry, quietly, and put an arm about her friend's shoulders.
"All these parties and preparations and dinners-I miss being alone with him… I miss being ourselves, the way we are, with each other-even when I'm next to him-we don't look at each other… and we always look at each other!"
Hermione said all of this in a great rush, as though she'd been dying to let it escape for days. Which, Ginny thought guiltily, perhaps she had.
"Look," Ginny said, after a pause, "I'll talk to Mum, and your parents-what if… what if we put off the parties after the rehearsal tonight until tomorrow afternoon? I'll watch the kids-or someone else will, if they want to-and you and Harry can have tonight together? How's that sound?"
Hermione looked up through red-rimmed eyes.
"But… you seemed so excited about the party you'd planned-" she said, wiping her eyes.
Ginny quelled, with some difficulty, the pangs of disappointment that welled up in her chest. All of that planning-all of that decorating-
"And Harry probably wants to go to the bachelor party-"
"He wants you," Ginny broke in, gently enough. She was glad to see Hermione smile a little. "And this week-it's not about me. It's all for you two. All of it has been. Or should have been. Everyone's been so busy with the wedding they've forgotten who's getting married, but it's not because we don't care- it's because we care."
Hermione wiped her eyes again.
"It seems so rude."
"Everyone will understand," Ginny said, "I know. I wrote the invitations, and all of them will understand. And Ron won't mind, I know he won't. There were only a few of us anyway."
She tugged at Hermione's arm.
"Come on, let's get ready for the rehearsal. I'll put up your hair-maybe this time Teddy won't pull it down."
"Ginny, wait-" Hermione touched Ginny on the shoulder. Ginny stopped and turned back.
"Thank you," Hermione said softly, genuine gratitude in her voice and smile. And somehow Ginny could sense that this was about more than just their conversation.
"You're welcome," she said, and for the first time in a long time, Ginny felt genuinely humbled. Perhaps this was why she said nothing more.
~*~
It may have been the crying she'd done only minutes before, but Hermione felt particularly distracted when she arrived at the rehearsal. Not that the grassy clearing and the sparkling river behind it didn't look absolutely beautiful-on the contrary, the buttery evening light endowed the wildflowers and trees with a warm, welcoming beauty. But as Hermione made her way down the aisle between those white wooden chairs, walking toward the flowery trellis under which she and Harry were to marry, her eyes couldn't help but search for his face.
When several sweeps of the wedding party revealed no glimpse of his face, Hermione turned her back on the rows of white chairs, standing under the trellis and facing the glimmering river turned golden by the sun's rays. She closed her eyes, slowly breathing the scent of the wildflowers and the soft breeze, listening to the sighs of the river.
"Hi," said a voice behind her suddenly, and she whirled around-without thinking, without a word, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.
Harry wound her arms around her firmly, slightly concerned by the way she kept saying his name over and over.
"Hey," he said softly, pulling back and cupping her cheek in his hand. "Is everything okay?"
She reached up and grasped the wrist of the hand caressing her face.
"Harry," she began, but then she stopped. Harry felt her gaze sweep across his face, and his heart tripped a little, noticing the warmth and tenderness in her eyes. Then she reached up and kissed him, first with passion and conviction; next, several times, softly-he drew her closer, reveling in her closeness, in the softness of her mouth and the breathy sounds barely trembling past her lips-
Suddenly she drew back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with tears. He fitted her palm to her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.
"I've missed-I've missed- I've missed kissing you," she blurted, her cheeks turning even rosier. Harry kissed her again gently.
"I've missed kissing you," he said, and he smiled, letting her know that, despite his smile, he took her very seriously. "I've missed holding you, just like this. It's driven me insane, you know-all week we've-"
"…barely had any time alone," Hermione finished, her eyes brightening, "You felt the same way?"
"All week," he promised, "but in two days-in two days it's all going to change."
He drew her closer and pressed his cheek to her hair.
"Hermione," he said, in a very low, halting voice, "my best friend-because that's what you'll always be, my-my Hermione-tomorrow, right now, forever-I give myself to you, for always, all of me… for as long as I live and after-because I love you-I need you-and I always will."
She was crying, silently, into his shoulder-her arms around his waist- but Harry pulled back, and tilted her chin back with a gentle hand.
Because, somehow, despite the fact that the wedding was only two days away, he needed her to hear this now. Right now, under this flowery trellis, with the rest of the wedding party milling around the back of the clearing-now, with the sun setting, and the river singing, and the breezes sighing-now, when he was standing in the grass in his old trainers and battered jeans and messy hair-now, with her eyes alight and her hair undone and her face glistening with tears-
"I promise," he said-once, with his eyes fixed on hers, and again, with a tender kiss, "I promise," and last, with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed to hers, in a low voice, in a hoarse voice, in a fervent whisper, "I promise."
A/N: I know, you thought this chapter was going to show the wedding. I promise you the wedding is in the works for the next chapter. For now, have a wonderful day! Thank you for reading.
-->