Why Me?
Author Note: I'm back with an update for this story - sorry its been so long. I am still here but just crazy busy meaning writing that isn't to do with passing exams gets pushed to the back of my life at the mo.
Chapter 4.
The next morning Hermione woke late and lay in bed in blissful silence for a long few minutes. Yesterday evening, after she'd apologised to Ginny, Ginny had suggested they had a day off for Hermione to recoup and chill out. Then moments later had announced she had booked them an evening appointment with the florists to discuss flower arrangements. However, Hermione had to agree with Ginny's sunny logic, things did look better after she'd slept on them. Rolling out of bed, she padded sleepily into the kitchen, in search of caffeine. Sunlight was shining brightly through the windows lighting the kitchen in buttery yellow.
She headed over to the percolator and clicked it on, and fixed herself a brunch as it bubbled, then poured a large latte. Carrying the mug carefully she grabbed the papers from the counter where the owl had left them and went over to the sofa. She sat down and flipped out the first onto her knee,
"Shit!"
The mug fell from her hand and washed the floor in a sea of coffee. Hermione didn't pay the slightest bit of attention as she was staring in horror at the front page of the paper on her lap.
HERMIONE POTTER stated the headline in huge, bold letters and below it, a sub heading; `Harry Potter to wed long-time girlfriend'. And then... then... the photo.
Someone, some idiot at The Daily Prophet had captioned the story with a huge black and white image of Hermione, the picture had obviously been taken the morning before, because her hair was in its horrific fright wig state, her top was wet and sticky with the brown tea stain and she had a look of complete dazed shock on her face. As the photo Hermione blinked in a remarkably Luna-esque way and rubbed frenziedly at her top, the real life Hermione swore loudly and threw down the paper, snatching up the next.
The Snitch wasn't much better, they had a similar photo, accompanied, the paper boasted, on pages six and seven with photos from her Feather's trip. Hermione groaned, and tossed it aside, picking up the final paper. This one at least didn't have her name emblazoned across its headline, apparently, her and Harry's wedding plans hadn't infiltrated the Muggle world and The Independent had a typical headline complaining about a rise in Council Taxes.
Hermione was scowling angrily at the crumpled papers scattering the carpet when the telephone jingled loudly. She got up, and stamped through the puddle of lukewarm coffee, which soaked her socks, she swore again and snatched up the receiver.
"Yes?" She snapped irritably, tugging off her soggy socks with her spare hand.
"Good morning gorgeous." Harry's voice, calm and quiet but laced with obvious amusement spoke down the line.
"Not particularly," she grumbled. He chuckled. "I take it you saw the papers then?" she said sharply,
"Yeah," Harry admitted, there was a muffled bit of speech and he chuckled again, "Ron says you look like you stuck your fingers in a socket."
Hermione grunted. "Ron doesn't even know what a socket is." She retorted moodily.
"Cheer up," said Harry breezily.
"Mmm." Hermione grunted noncommittally, lobbing the ball of coffee-soaked socks into the laundry basket.
"Come on Hermione, who cares if they printed some bad photos of you."
"I care." She said obstinately.
"No you don't. Not really." He replied lightly, Hermione sighed.
"You're right, I don't. But Molly will." She added with a wry grin, "I'm doomed, as doomed as the dodo." At that Harry started laughing again, and she felt a slight lift in her mood. "So, what are you up to today?" she asked, leaning over to turn the coffee maker back on.
"Photo shoot - Ron's pampering himself in preparation." Harry said in a bored tone, "What about you?"
"I've got an appointment with the florists this evening. I meant to discuss this with you actually... what do you think - a mixed bouquet? Freesias? Lilies? Roses?"
"I dunno Sweet. Whatever you want." Harry replied affably.
"Harry!" she moaned, "Not helpful."
"I'm sorry Hermione - I've got to go. Ron's whinging about the quality of shaving cream or something - and we were meant to be down there half an hour ago. I'll speak to you soon, relax and have a good day. I love you."
"I love you." She replied sighing, and replacing the phone onto its cradle. "Damn it," she muttered, eyeing the floor, damp coffee stain, broken mug and wrinkled papers. She stepped over the mess and snatched up her wand.
"Scourgify," she said, watching the rumpled paper soar into the bin, followed by the broken mug and the stain vanish.
She spent the rest of the day trying to relax, reclining on the sun-lounger in the garden flipping through wedding magazines. She dozed off for a while and when she woke, it was by the loud jangling ring of the telephone. She rolled off the lounger feeling contentedly warmed by the low sun, rushed into the house and grabbed the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hermione - it's Ginny!"
"Oh - hey Gin, everything alright?"
"Yes," Ginny replied, "I'm fine... um... are you?" she asked delicately. Hermione's eyes shot to the bin where the morning's papers were now residing, she sighed,
"Yeah, I'm fine too." She answered with a shrug, "What time is our appointment tonight?"
"Six, you've got a couple of hours. Shall we meet up for a drink before? I've got some good news." Ginny said, sounding very happy. Hermione glanced down, she was still in her scruffy tee shirt and jogging trousers.
"Okay." She agreed, "Where shall I meet you?"
"The Leaky Cauldron," Ginny suggested, reeling off a time and then a quick goodbye. Hermione replaced the handset, and headed into her bedroom to get ready.
Hermione showered and took more time in dressing than she usually did, in light of the morning's papers; she wanted to avoid another fiasco at all costs. Dressed in dark cream tailored trousers and a crisp white shirt, Hermione was ready to apparate to Diagon Alley.
"Hermione!" Ginny's clear voice rang across the hum of the pub, and Hermione saw the petite red head waving enthusiastically from the bar. She sidled over and dropped a kiss to her friend's cheek.
"Are you alright? Really?" Ginny demanded, holding Hermione at arms length, "Those bastard papers!"
"I'm fine Gin," she grinned, wriggling out of her grip. "What are you drinking?"
"No, I'll get them." Ginny said, leaning over the bar and instantly catching the young bartender's attention. "Three gin and gillywaters please," she purred, pushing a few coins across the counter at him. The bartender flashed her a charming smile and began making the drinks,
"Three?" Hermione said in confusion. Ginny snapped to face her,
"Oh, I'm so rude. This is the good news Hermione. Meet Estelle Maxine,"
From behind Ginny's shoulder a woman stepped out, she was tall and had an plump, hourglass shaped body. Her glossy dark hair was falling smoothly over her shoulders onto an expensive black silk suit.
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said automatically, shaking the woman's extended hand.
"Good eveening, Mees Grangerr," the woman said softly, her French accent rolling the final `r' in Hermione's name to a great length.
"Hermione, Estelle has come to England to co-run Feathers with Madam Rose. She's a designer. A brilliant designer - she worked under Coco Chanel you know!" Ginny gushed, beaming at Hermione and passing the drinks around.
"Uh - I thought she was dead…" Hermione said tentatively.
"Oh no," Estelle smiled, "Gabrielle iz alive and well, she `as just retired from `er work within zee muggle fashion world."
"Oh," Hermione said, letting Ginny steer her into a small booth, where the three settled.
"Estelle has agreed to design your dress - then she and Madam Rose will work together to produce it in time for the wedding." Ginny said stabbing the olive floating in her drink with her toothpick and popping it into her mouth.
"Really?" Hermione looked across at Estelle who nodded, her dark eyes twinkling behind the thick coal black lashes.
"What did you `ave in mind?"
An hour, three more drinks and several pages of sketches later, Estelle pushed a piece of parchment across the table to Hermione and Ginny.
"Oh," Ginny breathed, staring in approval at the pencil design. Hermione just nodded silently.
"Then zat iz zee one." Estelle said, sweeping the paper into her expensive looking leather bag and swallowing the dregs of her drink. "I will take zee design to Madam Rose now, and we will begin work immediately. She `as your measurements, I believe."
"Yes." Hermione said, "Thank you so much."
"Not at all," she smiled, tucking her bag under her arm and smoothing her hair. "See you soon."
Hermione and Ginny watched Estelle slide in her effortlessly chic French way through the crowded pub till her black silhouette disappeared. Then Hermione turned to Ginny.
"This is why you're my bridesmaid Gin,"
Ginny grinned. "I know." She glanced at her watch, "Shit! Flowers Hermione. We better get going!"
As soon as Hermione pushed the swing door and entered the florists she felt a little more at ease. The heady scent of the variety of flowers and heavy pollen reminded her forcibly of her father's green house where she had spent endless summer holidays as a child pottering around growing seeds and watering plants. The shop was crammed with jugs and vases and buckets full of every type of flower in every shade, and from behind a group of vases containing various greenery, a short dumpy witch bustled out.
"Madam Sprout!?" Hermione and Ginny exclaimed in unison.
The witch beamed at them. "Miss Granger, its lovely to see you again - and you too Miss Weasley." Madam Sprout smiled at their shocked looks, and ushered them past the counter to a small table with a number of seats. "I opened up after I retired from Hogwarts," she explained gesturing around the shop. "Now I understand we are looking at the wedding of the century,"
Hermione blushed and shrugged while Madam Sprout continued. "I always thought you made a lovely couple dear… so what are you in need of?"
"Well… alter and church decorations, table pieces, bridesmaid bouquets, button holes for family members and my bouquet." Hermione said, counting items off her fingers.
Madam Sprout nodded, scribbling on a dirty piece of parchment. "Any particular flowers to be included or excluded?" she asked,
"Well I love white roses… to be avoided… I can't think of anything offhand…"
"Oh!" Ginny piped up, "Ron's allergic to… eh…" she paused thoughtfully, "… some flower, it begins with a 'C' I think…"
"Carnations?" Hermione supplied, Ginny nodded.
"Yeah - I think that's it."
"Alright, no carnations…" Madam Sprout said, nodding and noting on the parchment, "So other than white roses what else should we include? You can explore the stock we've got here…"
Hermione and Ginny jumped up eager to examine the buckets of delightfully bright flowers. Hermione paused at a tall vase of flute shaped lilies. "These are beautiful,"
"Calla lilies." Madam Sprout provided, jotting it down.
"What about these?" Ginny said, lightly fingering some exotic white blooms which were accented with a faint green tinge.
"Phalanopsis orchids."
"Ooh, and these…"
"Germini."
After the list of flowers had doubled they chose some suitable greenery and retired back to the table. Madam Sprout scrutinised her notes.
"All of this we can do… ah… except you'll have to choose between the Calla and the Longi lilies because the two preservations charms don't mix, we had an unfortunate incident at a wedding a while back where we used both and there was a minor explosion…"
Ginny raised her eyebrows looking torn between alarm and amusement. Hermione bit her lip, she had chosen the lilies to be included for two reasons, they were her mothers favourite flower and more importantly, as a sign of respect to Harry's mother. "Uh - is it okay if I just call Harry and ask him?"
Madam Sprout nodded, "Use the phone on the counter dear," Hermione got up and left Ginny to pour over bouquet designs. She edged around the counter and tapped in Harry's mobile number.
"Hello?"
"Hey Harry its me."
"Hermione - you alright?"
"Yeah I'm fine." She said, twirling the cord in her fingers a little, "…I'm at the florists…"
"Yeah? Hows it going?" he asked sounding a little distracted
"Alright. Its just I need your opinion on something… You know how we discussed including lilies in the arrangements - you know for your Mum… what do you think?"
"I think that's a good idea." He answered quietly.
"We can only have one type though - Calla or Longi - which would you prefer?"
"I don't mind, you choose." He answered genially. Hermione frowned.
"Harry."
"What?" He asked, sounding a little exasperated.
"I can't choose, I need your opinion."
"I really don't mind sweet. Whichever."
"Harry!"
"Hermione! It's not a big deal. They are only flowers." He said in frustration.
"It is a big deal!" Hermione flared, "How many weddings have you been to where flowers aren't a major part?"
"I thought the `getting married' bit was the major part."
"I thought including lilies meant something to you."
"It does Hermione."
"Calla or Longi?"
"I don't know, I mean I don't even know what either look like…"
"Harry."
"I have to go now. You choose, I trust your judgement."
"But this is meant to be your decision."
"I've got to -,"
"Calla lilies or Longi lilies?"
She heard Harry taking several pacifying breaths down the line and drummed her fingernails against the counter irritably. "Well Harry?"
"Look - I have to go now. We've got a team meal and we're due down in the bar right now."
"TELL ME WHICH FLOWER!"
"Hermione -," he began warningly,
"HARRY!"
"FINE, fine. Calla. Okay?"
"Thank you." She replied, slamming the phone down and grimacing at her nails which were chipped and covered in soil. She stomped back over to the table and sat down, Madam Sprout and Ginny were eyeing her warily.
"Calla." She muttered and watched Madam Sprout scrawl it onto the list.
Estelle Maxine is Madam Maxine's sister J
The florists scene is a mixture of my experiences with brides when I worked in a florists, my patchy knowledge of stock from my times there and the phone argument is very loosely based on one from Adrian Mole :P
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