A/N: Many thanks to my lovely beta, songbook99!

---

This church really is the most beautiful one I have ever seen, Hermione contemplated. For once, she had nothing to do as she was all ready, unlike Ginny and Luna who had only just seemed to remember the finishing touches that they just had to add. She couldn’t blame them, though, weddings were special.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, voicing her thoughts out loud as she peeked round the side of the curtain from which she was to appear in a minute. She looked around at the white hall which was filled with white roses and lilies. The guests were all sitting down and conversing quietly with each other, waiting for the bride to appear. The priest was up at the altar, turning the pages to find the right one. The church was filled with excited whispers, all impatient for the ceremony to start. Hermione saw her old teachers, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid. She saw some of her old classmates, Parvati and Padma Patil, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan.

“Not as beautiful as you,” came a voice from behind her. Hermione whipped around and smiled at who she saw. “OK, well, maybe a bit more beautiful than you - ouch! I think that’s your cue,” he observed, rubbing his arm where Hermione had hit him as the organ started to play. “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm to her, which she accepted with a smile.

“Can you believe we’re doing this?” she whispered as they began to walk down the aisle.

“Nope!” he replied cheerfully, before seeing Hermione give him a look. “Er, I mean, it seems like only yesterday we were at school, arguing about what was better, Chocolate Frogs or Pumpkin Pasties! Which, by the way, is obviously Chocolate Frogs.”

“It is not! But I still can’t believe this is happening,” she retorted excitedly. A look to her side showed that if the beam on his face was anything to go by, the redhead next to her was equally as happy.

“Yeah, I know. We only left school two years ago, who’d have thought then it would come to this!” That remark resulted in him gaining another look from Hermione. “Is it me, or is it taking us forever to walk down this aisle?”

“It’s because the music’s slow, so everyone can look at the bride and the bridesmaids, the groom and the groomsmen,” Hermione explained with a sigh, though somehow managing to keep her smile in place.

“I know! I was just making an observation!” he protested. “Hey, check out that flower arrangement thingy!”

“Honestly, Ron, did you not take part in the wedding arrangements at all?” Hermione asked him in despair.

“Well, I looked at some of the stuff…” Ron trailed off sheepishly as he concentrated on smiling at the guests instead of Hermione.

“Like what? No, wait, one guess: the buffet?” Ron didn’t answer her. “Ron! Is food all you care about?” she asked him indignantly. Ron wasn’t quite sure how she managed to sound annoyed and yet smile so happily.

“No! I mean, I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t, would I?” Ron smiled victoriously as this time Hermione didn’t reply. The altar was now approaching fast. They unlinked arms as each glided over to their side of the priest. Luna and Neville came up behind them and took their places, leaving only Harry and Ginny to finish their walk up the aisle before the actual ceremony would start.

When Harry reached Ron, the two exchanged nervous smiles, in comparison to the girls, who looked perfectly composed. The priest looked around to check that everyone was ready before beginning.

Hermione couldn’t help but take in her surroundings again as her mind drifted off from what was being said. She thought of the hardships they had all had to endure, what with Voldemort’s return and the battles they had all had to participate in, physical and psychological. She thought of how the final battle had turned out to be nothing but another hoax, how all that bloodshed had seemingly been for nothing, that Voldemort wasn’t gone, not forever at least. How she wished he was though. She didn’t know if she’d prefer to know he was still at large or not. If he was, though, she thought, I suppose we wouldn’t be standing here today. She knew that if there was even the prospect of finding him, Harry, at least, wouldn’t rest until he had. There wasn’t though. Not for the time being at any rate.

“If anyone has any objections to this couple being joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Hermione waited with bated breath, along with everyone else, for a minute that seemed to drag out forever, to see if any objections were made. The priest smiled as the silence prevailed.

“Then let me continue with the vows. Do you, Harry James Potter, take this woman, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, to promise to be faithful to, forsaking all others, until death do you part?” The entire church smiled as Harry replied,

“I do.”

Hermione looked at Ginny, who was standing calmly next to her, before returning her glance to the priest, who turned to their side of him.

“And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasely, take this man, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, to promise to be faithful to, forsaking all others, until death do you part?” Once more, the whole church smiled as Ginny answered,

“I do.”

“Then, I now pronounce you, man and wife! You may kiss the bride.” The vows gave way to loud claps and cheers from the guests, who all rose to their feet as the new bride and groom made their walk back down the aisle and outside to go to the reception. Ron and Hermione stayed behind as the guests began to file out.

“Well, they’ve done it. My best friend married my little sister…” Ron broke off to give a customary glare. “But I swear, if he ever does anything to hurt her, or upset her, or - “

“Yes, Ron, we know,” Hermione grinned. “You’ll give him to Colin Creevey or the Giant Squid. Now come on, or we’ll miss the food!”

“What? Quick! Hurry up! What if it’s all gone? Let’s go!” Ron yelped as he positively fled out of the church, knocking over several unsuspecting guests in the process.

“Wishing it was you?” asked a faraway voice from behind her, making Hermione jump violently.

“Oh, Luna! You made me jump!” Hermione replied, though avoiding the question.

“Don’t worry, maybe you’ll catch the bouquet.” Luna patted her arm reassuringly before she too walked down the aisle with a small smile. Hermione shook her head in disbelief as she followed her, too caught up in her thoughts to notice the hem of Luna’s dress trailing along the floor behind her…

There was an almighty crash as three pots and a dazed gnome fell to the floor of the Burrow‘s kitchen, causing shards of china to fly over the floor.



“Ronald!” He cringed at the sound of his mother’s screech. “What was that?” Mrs. Weasley hurried to the source of the noise, where her son was scrabbling on the floor guiltily.



“Um…an earthquake?” he said, more as a question than an explanation. His mother shook her head despairingly.



“What are you doing around here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Molly Weasley asked, helping to put Ron’s fallen tower of crockery away. Ron shook his head. Ron, Harry and Hermione had all become Aurors after Voldemort’s ’defeat’, for if and when he returned. But as they were fairly new, they worked mainly in the office instead of the more alluring field. “Well, I thought you were thinking about finding your own place? Why don’t you go flat hunting?” she suggested, which was greeted with no enthusiasm by Ron. “Ok, what’s wrong? Something‘s bothering you, I can tell. Is it work?” Ron shook his head as he sat down on the kitchen chair. “Food? Harry and Ginny?” This time, Ron shrugged as he began to sort out the remainder of the cutlery. “Why?” Mrs. Weasley looked confused; Ron had been as excited as everyone else when Harry and Ginny had announced their engagement and even more so when it got to the wedding. “You know he’ll take good care of her, your brothers have seen to that!”



Ron smiled as he remembered the stern talking to Fred and George had sprung upon Harry the night before the wedding. Harry had left looking as though he’d just had an encounter with the mutant baby of the Basilik and Aragog. “I know. It’s just that I see them doing all this stuff, and I wonder if maybe I should be doing something with my life. Something more I mean,” Ron admitted above the clattering of the cutlery. “Only I’m not really sure what.”



“Well, why don’t you settle down with someone?” Mrs. Weasley encouraged enthusiastically. “There must be one girl you’ve liked, that you’ve thought might turn into something serious?” Again, Ron shook his head. “What about Janey? Mandy? Susan?” She paused as Ron rejected all of them with a shake of the head or a look. “Sophie? Hermione?”



“Mum, I never went out with Hermione,” Ron reminded her with a particularly violent sorting of spoons.



“Well, why not?”

---

---

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Ron groaned from beneath his hands where he hid his beet red ears. Harry smirked as he finished off his pumpkin juice, gazing around the Great Hall and noticing that Hermione was unsurprisingly absent. Only instead of hibernating in the library, he reckoned she was probably in her dormitory, gossiping with Ginny.



“About time too,” he commented as he avoided Ron’s haphazard punch.



“I asked Hermione out. Why? Why did I do it? What was wrong with just being friends? I mean, sure there were times - “



“Hey, she said yes, remember?” Harry reminded him with a grin as he shovelled in another mouthful of pie.



“What? Oh yeah, she did!” Ron suddenly looked up from beneath his hands, his ears having dimmed down a bit, with a beam. Harry shook his head in despair.



“You know, Hermione’s right when she says you don’t pay enough attention. Though she must have really had to pay attention to be able to decipher ’Er, do you, maybe, er, well, wanna, um, goouttonightwithme? Er, um, well, erm - ’” Harry mocked with a fairly accurate, in his opinion, impression of Ron, until he was suddenly thumped by Ron’s more accurate aim.

---

“Ron, hadn’t you better go? I mean, you wouldn’t want to be late for your date, would you?” Harry teased as he laid down his mug on Hagrid’s table, where the boys had gone to visit. Harry noticed that Ron had neglected to bring up the topic so had saved him the trouble.



“Yeh’ve got a date, Ron? Who with? Not tha’ Lavender again?” Hagrid asked with great interest. Ron, in the meanwhile, muttered something that sounded a bit like ‘hammer’, much to Hagrid’s bewilderment.



“Hermione,” translated Harry. Ron was looking decidedly at the ground, his ears growing consistently redder.



“Nice goin’, Ron!” Hagrid congratulated, thumping him heartily on the back so that Ron spluttered half his drink back into the mug.



“Yeah, well, I better go,” Ron mumbled once he’d got his breath back.



“Yeah, but it’s cold outside, don’t slip on the ice and fall into the lake or anything,” Harry warned with mock sincerity.



“Harry’s righ‘, the Giant Squid don’ get much food now the lake’s frozen over. I expec’ you’d be a righ’ treat for it, Ron!” agreed Hagrid with a nod. Ron scowled back at them as he opened the door.



“Nah, ‘cos if he does fall in, Hermione will do something way worse than the Giant Squid will, if he stands her up!” Harry continued, bending over with laughter as Ron slammed the door shut.



It might have been icy outside, but Ron couldn’t tell as it was growing gradually darker. Although it might have been hard for human eyes to see in the lack of light, Ron had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn’t too dark to hinder the sight of whatever perilous creatures Hagrid had ’adopted’. Also, the crackling of the grass was growing louder, and Ron guessed that either he was getting heavier with each step, or someone was following him.



“Harry?” he called out uncertainly, turning around in the brisk night air to see if his friend had thought of more wisecracks that he felt complied to share.



“Close! But not quite,” a rather more feminine voice than Harry’s answered.



“Lavender?” he asked with a grimace, walking over the glazing of frost towards her voice. “This really isn’t a good time, I have to - what are you doing out here anyway?” He could see her shiver as he neared her, he could see her breath form in the cold evening air.



“I went down to Hagrid’s, but they told me you’d left. I, um, needed to talk to you,” she admitted, her voice quavering a little, though Ron thought that this time it probably wasn’t much to do with the cold.

---

“Ron. Ron!”



“Just one more minute,” Ron mumbled grouchily.



“No! Ron, get up! Now!” Ron blinked rapidly, trying to clear his bleary eyes to see Harry looking down on him. Ron looked around his surroundings to see that he was slumped down in a corner of the Great Hall.



“What - what am I doing here?” he asked. “What time is it?”



“It’s half two in the morning!” Harry informed him with a small laugh. “And I have no idea what you’re doing here. When you didn’t come back to the dorm, I checked on the Marauder’s Map for you. I take it that it went well with Hermione, as I wasn’t woken up to ear-splitting screams from the common room, and there weren’t any reports of someone spontaneously growing a tail or antlers - “



“Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, leaping up from his spot on the stone floor.



“Wha - don’t tell me you forgot? What were you doing all that time then?” Harry was in shock; he hadn’t been expecting that. But Ron wasn’t there to answer him, as when he looked back, he had already sprinted off in the direction of the common room.



“Hermione!”



“Nope. Wrong password. No entry.”



“Argh!” Ron growled in frustration. “Inanity!”



“Correct. What are you doing out this late anyway?” The Fat Lady asked him as she swung open, but Ron had already jumped through the portrait hole.



“Hermione?”

Chapter 3



“Hermione?” Ron turned around, surveying every corner of the room swiftly. He couldn't see any shadows, anyone sitting or sleeping in an armchair, or anyone anywhere in the common room apart from himself.

“You're too late, Ron. She’s probably in her bed, asleep, like most normal people are at two thirty in the morning!” Harry said, slightly out of breath from having to race after his friend, and slightly irritated at having to find and sprint after him at two in the morning, then to answer his (rather stupid, in Harry's opinion) questions. “Where did you think she’d be? Sitting by the fire, crying, waiting for you to come back?” Harry asked him with exasperation as Ron looked away. “She’s got more pride than that. Though I'll bet you'll be in trouble in the morning!”

---

“Really, Ron, it’s fine!” Hermione told him cheerfully. Ron’s face rivalled Harry’s look of astonishment as both their jaws hit the floor.

“But - but I thought - “

“It really doesn't matter,” Hermione told him briskly as she helped herself to some breakfast. “I had a nice time last night anyway without you.” Harry could tell that Ron was stung by her words and her apparent indifference by the way it took him three tries to put the food onto his plate, and the fact that (once he managed to get his fork to find his plate instead of the table, floor or his robes) it hadn't vanished within half a minute.

“It’s just that I met Lavender,” Ron tried in vain to explain, ignoring Harry’s extreme shaking of his head and his waving of hands in the air violently in an attempt to stop Ron talking.

“So?” Hermione asked, looking up swiftly, and Harry thought he might have seen a scowl cross over her face, though if he had, she composed herself very quickly as he didn't see anything but apathy in her expression after he blinked. “Are you two back together?”

“Well, no - “

“Hey, Hermione,” a voice approached from behind them. Harry was amazed again at the speed at which Hermione’s expression could change, as she turned to face the person behind the voice with a vast beam on her face.

“Hi, Terry!” she said, moving up to make room for him on the bench.

“Terry?” Ron spluttered. “Terry Boot? What’s he doing here?” he asked Hermione accusingly, completely ignoring the fact that Terry was standing right in front of him and could easily speak for himself.

“He goes to school here,” answered Hermione, rolling her eyes.

“I know that,” Ron snapped defensively. “I meant, what is he doing here, at the Gryffindor table?” Harry slid down in his seat, noticing the warning signs of an argument between his two best friends.

“Uh, I'll talk to you later, Hermione,” said Terry, who also seemed to have picked up on the not-so-subtle signs of a row as he had an uncomfortable look on his face. Hermione looked mortified but just nodded to Terry before turning back to face Ron, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Harry got up from his chair, backing away quietly, trying to leave unnoticed. As bad as he felt for Ron, the last thing he wanted was Hermione’s wrath focused on him instead. Ron, meanwhile, had a look of sheer terror on his face, having seen Hermione’s expression, and looked like he too would dearly love to be able to sneak away.

But instead of yelling, Hermione just made a queer noise in the back of her throat, stood up and walked away, causing Ron to let out a huge sigh of relief, and Harry to wonder if he should inform Madam Pomfrey.

“Well, that was…” Harry didn't seem to be able to find the words, mainly because he had no idea what exactly it was.

“Awful,” Ron filled in as Harry nodded, “is an understatement.”

---

---

“Ginny!” Ron called, rubbing his hands together for warmth as his sister and his best friend had so rudely ignored his constant ringing and knocking on the door. “Harry! Open up!” Just then, the door was flung open, causing Ron to fall backwards in surprise. He looked up from the ground and grass to hear ringing laughter accompanied by a hand to help return him to his feet.

“Typical,” came the voice of Ron’s sister as she came to the door to see what all the noise was about. “It takes me all morning to cheer her up, but you manage it in ten seconds!”

“Why? What’s wrong, Hermione?” he asked, brushing off his robes.

“Nothing seeing you fall over backwards into the dirt won’t cure,” Hermione replied with another small laugh. “Anyway, I really have to go. I’ll see you soon, Ron. Thanks for everything, Ginny,” she called over her shoulder as she walked quickly away from the cottage, giving a small wave.

“What are you doing at my doorstep, or lying on the ground in front of my doorstep as it might seem, anyway, Ron?” Ginny questioned, beckoning her brother to come inside, but not before he wiped his shoes on the mat first.

“I was just coming round to see how your honeymoon went, really. But never mind about that,” he continued, which earned him a venomous glare from Ginny. “I mean, I’m sure it was lovely, but, uh - “ Ron decided that there was no way to recover, so he carried on with his original train of thought anyway. “What’s wrong with Hermione?” He sat down on the sofa opposite his sister, warming his hands by the fire and looking at her inquisitively.

“Nothing much,” Ginny said abruptly, getting up and going into the kitchen. “None of your business anyway!” she called back merrily, as she returned with some Pumpkin Pasties and cake and saw the scowl on Ron’s face. “Well, at first she was having a go at me about the wedding.“ Ron looked very confused as his sister gave a laugh. “She swears that I aimed my bouquet at her! But you might as well know, she had a fight with Terry.” Ginny felt a slight twinge of guilt when she knew she would eliminate her brother's newly found beam with her next sentence. “But I convinced her to make it up with him.”

“What? Why? Why would you do such a thing?” Ron asked, looking at his sister with big, hurt eyes. Ginny couldn’t help but grin at his hangdog expression, though she felt a little mean.

“Why do you care anyway? I thought you were just friends?”

“We are! I - I don’t care! Well, I mean, I do care, obviously, I mean, Hermione’s my friend!” Ron stammered, causing Ginny’s smile to widen. She had never grown out of tormenting her brothers and didn’t really think that she ever would. “I mean,” continued Ron, having slightly regained his composure, “it’s because I care. I don’t think Terry’s good for her!” At this Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Now there’s a surprise!”

“What?” Ron looked slightly hurt again, although this time Ginny felt no guilt.

“Oh come off it, when have you ever liked one of Hermione’s boyfriends?” Ron scowled, he was obviously thinking hard. Ginny smiled victoriously as Ron helped himself to another slice of cake, trying to avoid answering the question. “I mean, all I really need to say is one word: Vicky!” At that one word, Ron began to choke on his cake, which Ginny didn’t think had anything to do with coincidence. “And what about that guy she went out with when she and Terry broke up for a while? Simon?"

"He was a slimy git," Ron said angrily.

"Well, he was when you were done with him! You know, there really wasn’t any need for you to explode those slugs over him!” Ginny grinned whilst Ron grunted. "And what about Adam? By the time you were done interrogating him, he was reduced to stammering on every third word for a week afterwards! Oh, and remember Dave? When you -"

"All right, all right, get to the point!" Ron interrupted, not really wanting any more to come out.

"Well, I guess the point is that you had your chance and you messed it up. It's too late now! Why do you have to try and mess up everyone else’s chance too? Why do you always try to mess up Hermione’s chance of happiness?”

“What - what do you mean?” Ron looked thoroughly bewildered and hadn’t quite finished choking.

“I mean, she waited hours for you. At Hogwarts? When you stood her up?” Ginny said with a vicious glare that Ron felt was worthy of Hermione herself, as she reminded him of the incident he would have much preferred to forget. “All dressed up, just sitting in that armchair. Even when it became clear that you weren’t going to come, she still waited. Like she always does.” At this, Ginny stared accusingly at her brother, who, in return, avoided her gaze at all costs and became suddenly fascinated in the paint drying on their new bookcase. “Until she finally had to admit that you weren’t coming, and she said something about a book she had to return in the library, although I didn’t see a book in her hand, and it was kind of hard to make out what she was saying through the tears she was trying to conceal,” Ginny noted. As Ron listened to her, Ginny could tell her words were tearing him up, although to be honest, she thought he deserved it. “There she ran into Terry, who complimented her on how nice she looked, unlike some people,” she added with slight irritation. “Can you blame her when she said yes when he asked her out?” Ron groaned.

“No. But that was ages ago! And I don’t care anyway! I’m happy for her!” Ginny looked at him sardonically. “Ok, maybe I had feelings for her once. But not anymore!” Ron proclaimed, very unconvincingly. “I mean, I’m going out with Claire! Why would I like Hermione? I mean, Claire’s pretty, funny, works at the Ministry, sweet…” Ron trailed off.

“Yeah, sure. So do you think that it'll go anywhere, with Hermione?” Ginny asked casually, summoning a cup from the kitchen.

“Yes!” Ginny grinned triumphantly as Ron realised his mistake. “I mean, no! I mean, I’m happy with Claire! Claire,” he added slowly, as if trying to convince himself more than Ginny. “I do not still l - er, like, Hermione!”

“Right…” Ginny agreed with him, although Ron thought he detected a trace of sarcasm in her voice through her wry smile. “Oh, look!” Ron followed her gaze to out the window. “What’s that? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s a pig! And - it’s flying!” Ron didn't answer.

Chapter 4

Hermione grunted at the sound of water rushing and rolled over in her bed. Unfortunately, she rolled over onto the wrong side, which consequently became the floor, with a loud thump. Well, at least I’m awake now, she reasoned as she slowly got to her feet.

“What was that?” Terry yelled, rushing back into the room with a golf club raised. Hermione giggled at the sight of him, as he was only in a towel and she didn’t think he’d ever used a golf club before in his life.

“Nothing, I just got up on the wrong side of bed, that’s all. What are you doing up this early anyway?” she asked, remembering why she’d woken up in the first place. She noticed that Terry seemed to be getting dressed remarkably quickly when they didn't have any particular plans. He stumbled whilst doing an almost jig to pull his trousers up, causing Hermione to erupt into such a vivacious bout of laughter that she fell back onto the bed.

“I have to get ready, I want to leave in twenty minutes,” explained Terry, so preoccupied with tightening his tie he didn’t notice Hermione’s face fall.

“But today’s your day off!” she protested, though without too much hope.

“Yes, I know, but I’ve really been swamped at the office lately and I want to get some paperwork finished. You understand, right, dear?” he asked, without waiting for a reply. “Do you have any plans for today?”

“Well, we were meant to be spending the morning together until I had to leave for work,” she said, somewhat bitterly, but it was lost on Terry. “But I guess I’ll just go see Ginny, or go shopping or something.”

“That’s nice,” Terry said absently, in a tone that made Hermione question how much attention he had been paying. If he’d been Ron, she mused, I probably would have said something about it.

---

“Hermione, could you pass me the folder on Grenilig? Hermione? Hermione?” Harry resorted to throwing a paper aeroplane at her to get her attention.

“Hey! Oh, sorry, Harry, I was just thinking,” explained Hermione with a start. Harry grinned; that much had been evident.

“You know, I remember that look from school,” Harry said with a grin. “That either meant you were thinking about something in the library, or you were thinking about Ron!” Hermione thought that Harry’s grin had turned slightly sly and chose to ignore his last comment as she rifled through the paperwork to find the folder.

“Here you are.” Hermione threw over a green folder titled ’Grenilig’. “What do you want it for, I thought he was cleared of all charges?”

“A little light reading!” Hermione narrowed her eyes, looking down at the headshot of a bald man with a scar on each cheek, his mouth seemed tattooed to a permanent frown. “I was joking!” Harry explained, rolling his eyes. “Ron, then?”

“What?”

“You were thinking about Ron, instead of the library?” Harry’s grin widened as he saw the slight frown come over Hermione’s face, making his guess seem even more accurate.

“No, actually, I was thinking about Terry,” Hermione said, in a slightly frosty tone, though Harry wasn’t sure if it was caused by the question or the answer. “He’s been, sort of, strange lately. He’s always so preoccupied with something or another now.” Harry looked on sympathetically, unsure of what to say. Luckily, someone said something for him.

“Who’s this?” Harry groaned inwardly. Of all the things to say, that probably wasn’t one of the best. Hermione frowned, looking up.

“Terry. But maybe it’s just him being a typical male,” Hermione deliberated.

“Hey! I resent that!” Ron said lightly, walking in further than the doorway he had been leaning against. Harry quickly shuffled his papers together, glad the ring on his finger prevented occasions such as the one he was now witnessing.

“But you’re one of the main perpetrators!” Hermione teased, a grin on her face to show she was only joking.

“Oh, he’s not that bad!” a feminine voice spoke up, startling Hermione so much she dropped the pile of paperwork she was holding all over the floor. She knelt down to pick it up, but when she looked up, she not only saw Ron beside her on the floor picking up stray pieces of parchment but a woman standing inside their office.

“Ron, do you know her?” Hermione asked coldly. “You know we’re not supposed to have people outside of our department in here.”

“It’s only for a minute,” Ron replied, looking slightly hurt. “I just came by to pick up my wallet. I think I must have left it on my desk earlier, and I happened to be with - ”

“Oh, you must be Hermione!” the woman interrupted in a light, airy voice that made Hermione feel a bit queasy. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she gushed.

“I’ve heard lots about you too,” Hermione replied, pasting a smile across her face, much to Harry’s surprise, who looked around to see if he could see an easy escape route. “You’re exactly as Ron described you, Angela.” This time, her smile was genuine.

“No, actually, I’m Claire,” she said, her smile having vanished faster than Ron would in the presence of spiders. “Who’s Angela?”

“She’s no-one, really, she’s - “

“Ron’s girlfriend,” Hermione explained innocently. “Oh, ex-girlfriend, I mean! I didn’t even know you two broke up! She was so nice, too.”

---

“What? I was only saying the truth!”

“You knew perfectly well that I wasn’t going out with Angela! Why would you say something like that anyway? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jea - “

“It must have slipped my mind,” Hermione interrupted Ron’s shouts coolly. “I’m sorry, all right? I really didn‘t mean to break you two up…”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Ron informed her, still annoyed.

“Oh!” Hermione wasn’t able to instantly conceal her surprise but managed it in her second attempt. “Well, that’s good.” She went back to work, scribbling something down on the parchment in front of her.

“Don’t sound too excited about it,” Ron complained.

“Oh, I am, really…” Ron thought that was probably the most unconvincing Hermione had sounded since she had said she didn’t fancy Lockhart, only this time her cheeks weren’t red. Pale pink was more like it.

---

In the dining room of The Burrow, Harry was distressed. Ginny could tell by the way he was pacing up and down, occasionally stopping to listen to something that was inaudible to her.

“Oh no!” Harry exclaimed after he’d finished his latest round of pacing.

“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked him, putting down her copy of ‘Witch Weekly’ with a sigh. Harry didn't reply. “What?” Ginny was beginning to get a bit worried about her husband.

“Listen!” There was silence once more as Ginny ‘listened’, her eyes darting around the room to see if she could see the source of the ‘noise’.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said slowly.

“Exactly! The - the silence! It - it burns! They’re - they’re not fighting! Something must be wrong!” Ginny laughed, but at the same moment, they both heard Ron yell,

“Wait - were you with Vicky?”

Harry smiled, and heaving a sigh of relief, he sat back down next to Ginny.

---

Hermione threw her hands up in the air as she paced over to the furthest corner away from Ron. She couldn’t even remember how they had got to this.

“Why does it always come back to Viktor? This has absolutely nothing to do with him! You were obsessed by it at school, and you still are now! Do you really think I would cheat on my boyfriend with someone who still can’t pronounce my name? Or stand him up for an ex-boyfriend, which is just as bad!” Hermione hissed, not realising her voice was growing louder with every word.

“And you say I was obsessed by stuff that happened at school! Hark at little Miss Pot over there! Or would you prefer to be the kettle?”

“Ooh! You are so - so - “

“What? So what exactly?”

Hermione didn’t reply, but turned away, her eyes shimmering. I knew it was a mistake telling Ron about Terry, she thought, desperately trying to keep her breathing regular.

“See!” Ron shouted, oblivious. “For once, you don’t have an answer!”

“Just because I’m above replying to one of your idiotic comments, it doesn’t mean I can’t!” Hermione yelled back, whirling around. Ron could’ve sworn he could see fire in her eyes, like the day she slapped Malfoy, and he backed away instinctively.

“So why don’t you then?” Ron countered, albeit from some distance away. He may be brave, but he wasn’t stupid; any closer and he would have been within missile range.

“Because - because I can’t be sure of what I’ll say,” she replied, quieter, although it would have been hard to get much louder than either Ron or Hermione in one of their arguments. “I can’t be sure that I won’t say that I hate you, or that I won’t say that I -” She broke off abruptly, as if realising what she had just said, or been about to say. “I have to go.” With that, she hurriedly went out through the lounge, leaving Ron standing alone in the empty room.

Disclaimer - I do not own 'Harry Potter', or 'It Must Be Love' - they belong to J.K. Rowling and Madness respectively.

Chapter 5

Ron was sulking. This caused everyone to avoid the lounge for fear of giving him any excuse to snap. There was only one rule when Ron was extremely angry: avoid him at all costs. This became very annoying, as it was raining outside, and they had to walk round the house to get to the kitchen. Everyone was seriously considering asking Ron if he could sulk elsewhere but realised that would be violating the aforementioned rule of avoiding Ron whilst he sulked. Finally, Harry decided to brave Ron’s wrath, as Ginny was getting extremely annoyed with having to frequently redo her mop (which is what her hair turned into after the rain was through with it), and Harry had not forgotten the effectiveness of her Bat-Bogey-Hex.

“Ron?” Harry called. He got no answer, and turned to leave, until he received a look from his wife, conveying that maybe he should try it three rooms nearer. “Ron?” he grumbled, through the wall next to the lounge this time.

“Meh,” came the reply.

Harry gave Ginny a beseeching look as she took Ron’s ’reply’ to be an invitation to go in and shoved Harry forward. On the second try, she managed to get him through the door, as he was too busy rubbing his nose from where it had crashed into the door frame to complain. I would have expected more accuracy from a Chaser, he thought, before attempting to talk to Ron. Eventually, he decided on a neutral topic - food.

“Um, we were wondering, what do you want for dinner?”

Ron shrugged. “Don’t care.” Though Ron seemed to be considering the matter, his face screwed up in concentration as Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously. “Lasagna?”

“Uh, no, sorry, can’t do that,” Harry explained apologetically. “See, to do that someone would have to go outside and pick the tomatoes, and everyone’s gone on strike from going outside. Especially Ginny,” Harry added in an undertone, rubbing his arm from where it had hit the door frame.

“Why is the whole world against me?” Ron wailed, falling onto his knees with his arms flailing dramatically, as Harry backed away from him with a look of terror, trying to figure out who he was more afraid of when they were angry: Ron or Ginny.

“I, um, don’t know?” he answered cautiously, backing hastily towards the door.

“I mean,” Ron continued, unintentionally blocking Harry’s escape route as he slumped against the door. “It seems like nothing’s going my way!”

“Tell me about it,” Harry agreed, though not quite loud enough for Ron to hear.

“First, Claire gets annoyed with me about the whole Angela thing, which, by the way, is not my fault!” Harry nodded, trying not to make it too obvious that he was sizing up the window. “Then I have another fight with Hermione - and I was only trying to help!”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry agreed, edging slowly closer to the window.

“And, well, Hermione deserves a category all to herself! Actually, it’s Hermione’s fault that I had that row with Claire! If she hadn’t called her Angela - which she knew wasn’t her name - I wouldn’t be in trouble! Also, you know it’s Hermione’s fault that I couldn’t go to dinner with Ang - I mean, Claire, tonight? You see, if I hadn’t been so mad at Hermione, I would have…”

Harry scowled, before remembering to agree with whatever Ron was saying now. He didn’t really need to pay attention; if anyone asked him what Ron was talking about, just answering ‘Hermione’ would pretty much cover it. Damn. The window was locked.

“And then, to top it all off, we can’t have lasagna for dinner! Can you believe it?”

“Yeah.” Harry was continuing with his agreement, but this time he got a funny look from Ron. “Er - I mean, no!”

“Harry, were you even listening to me?” Harry straightened up, moving away from the window with regret.

“Yes! Of course I was! Uh - Hermione!” he blurted out, like a child being accused of sleeping in class. But his answer seemed to satisfy Ron, who slumped down on the floor again, his head buried in his hands.

“It’s always Hermione, isn’t it?” Ron’s muffled voice piped up. “Whenever I find I great girl, what is it that always breaks us up? Hermione. She’s never as smart as Hermione, or Hermione says something, or…” Harry groaned. All he wanted was a link-way between the kitchen and the rest of the house, which didn’t include braving the relentless downpour, so he could have some dinner without bats flying out of his nose. “Always Hermione! Even when all I want is some dinner, no, somehow Hermione puts a stop to it!” Harry actually had a legitimate excuse to focus his attention on anything other than the top ten things Ron hates about Hermione, as an owl was dive bombing the window, as he used 'Alohamora' to open it and retrieve the letter. “Who is it?” Ron broke off to ask Harry’s dripping hair (his face was indistinguishable due to the rain in which he’d had to stick his head into).

“Hermione,” Harry’s hair admitted, as he looked with concern at Ron’s head banging repeatedly against the wall behind him.

---

Ron,
I really need to talk to you. Can you meet me at The Hog’s Head tomorrow at eleven?
Hermione


“You know, I really don’t think that parchment’s going to change colour -”

“Reveal a secret code -”

“Scream out ‘I LOVE YOU’ -”

“Detonate itself - though I sort of wish it would, just to see the look of satisfaction on your face that something happened, even if it did singe your eyebrows -”

“Transform into blue and purple spotted singing socks -”

“Or anything apart from what it already says, no matter how many times you read it, Ron!” Fred exclaimed, aided by George, with a touch of frustration after watching Ron re-read the scrap of parchment for what must have been over the hundredth time. “Do we even need to guess who it’s from?” Ron looked up from the parchment clutched in his hand to glare at the twins briefly, before returning to it.

“Well, no-one other than Hermione has been able to boggle what little excuse for a brain Ron has,” George noted with an approving nod from Fred. “Alright, so Ron’s always been confused by females in general, but no-one can do it as remarkably as Hermione. I guess this is where being clever comes in useful!”

Ron glared more furiously at his brothers.

“Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have nonsense to invent, money to count or work to do or something? Anything?”

“Well, yeah,” George admitted.

“But this is more fun!” Fred finished.

Ron scowled, not sure what he wanted more, food or to avoid his brothers' teasing. But, after George's rousing rendition of "It must be love, looove, love!" he decided that no amount of his mother's cooking was worth it.

“Why do you care anyway, Ron?” Ginny asked as her brother made his rapid departure from the table. Ron paused, wondering uncomfortably if she had somehow been reading his thoughts. His mind was put to rest after her next sentence, until her next sentence sunk in, that is. “Aren’t you meant to be dating Claire?” Ron looked dumbfounded for a minute, causing further hysterics from the twins.

Chapter 6

The next morning Ron wasn’t found snoring in his bed as usual, or snoring at his desk in his office, but pacing up and down by a table in the Hog’s Head. He stopped every so often to stare intensely at the door for a few minutes before resuming his pacing. This was rewarded, eventually, when a girl walked in, saw him and smiled, but to her dismay he did not return it.

“Ron? Are you alright?” she asked anxiously, instead of greeting him with a regular ‘hello‘.

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Now that she was here, suddenly he wasn’t so sure of what to say, though he‘d been rehearsing it all morning. “Listen, I’m not sure how to say this, but...”

“Ron, you know you can always tell me anything!” she said, sitting down opposite the still pacing Ron. “Besides, I need to talk to you too...Ron! Stop pacing! It’s annoying!”

“Sorry,” Ron muttered, pulling out a chair. “Anyway, what was I saying?”

“I don’t know, you had something to tell me…” She looked up expectantly at Ron, who in turn was trying to evade her glance at all costs.

“Well, you see, I, uh…” he mumbled inaudibly.

“Just spit it out, Ron!”

He could tell she was beginning to get exasperated. Not that it really matters, not anymore… he thought. Then again, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… Or something that means girls can get scary when they’re angry…

“Well,” he tried again. “I, um, don‘t think we should see each other anymore.” He looked up, slightly afraid, but her eyes were surprisingly calm, if somewhat steely. “It’s not you, it’s me!” She did not reply. “Um, I don’t want to ruin our friendship?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” she pointed out. Ron hung his head, but nodded in agreement.

“I’m really sorry - “

“Just tell me one thing,” she interrupted suddenly. Ron looked up attentively. “Was there - is there - someone else?” Ron couldn’t conceal the trace of a smile that entered his face.

“No. Well, maybe. I mean - oh, I don’t know. I guess there always was. It was always her…” he trailed off into reverie, before being briskly awoken from his trance by the scraping of her chair against the wooden floor.

“I knew it,” she said bitterly. “It’s Hermione, isn’t it?” Ron nodded. A look crossed Claire's face, as if she knew it was inevitable and always had, before she left without another word.

---

When she walked in, Ron was slightly more composed. 'Slightly' being that he had cleared up the third mug of butterbeer he had knocked over, almost completely gotten rid of the stain the pumpkin pasty had left on his elbow and his hair was nearly under control.

Hermione, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her clothes and general appearance were fine, but her expression said otherwise. Ron didn’t think he had seen her look so nervous since the day they received their Charms results.

“Hi,” he said simply, as she sat down. “So…”

“So, I have something to tell you,” Hermione said, wringing her hands anxiously. “Listen, it’s about me and Terry - “

“Wait, I have something to tell you too, about me and Claire,” Ron interrupted, wanting to get it over and done with. Hermione didn’t look at all upset at not being able to finish, so he carried on. “We broke up.” At that, Hermione really did look upset, though Ron wasn’t sure why. He had never really had the impression that she particularly liked Claire - in fact, he would have said the exact opposite.

“Oh no! Ron, I’m so sorry! It wasn’t - it wasn’t because of me, was it?” Ron was really surprised at that, how could she have known? Well, this was Hermione; she did know a lot, but that? He hadn’t even told Harry that he was going to break up with Claire, let alone why. In fact, Claire was the only person he had told.

“Well, sort of…” Ron trailed off, not sure of how to explain without his ears turning redder than his hair from the embarrassment.

“Oh Merlin! I’m so sorry! Ron, I swear, I’ll fix it! I’ll talk to Claire!” Ron was completely mystified, though he wasn’t sure if it showed on his face, as Hermione just ploughed straight on. “I’ll explain to her that it was just a mistake! A slip of the tongue!” Now Ron was really confused. Since when had Hermione’s tongue slipped…”I knew she wasn’t Angela, and you haven’t seen Angela since you broke up! I’ll tell her - “ Ron laughed out loud when he realised what Hermione meant. “What? Why do you find this funny?”

“Because - oh it doesn’t matter! I didn’t really like her anyway, I was glad of any excuse to break up with her to be honest. So, uh, what was your news?” Ron asked, still laughing slightly, though bringing the conversation back to the topic he was dying to find out the answer to. He had been wondering about it ever since the owl had come, as he had constantly been reminded by the twins.

“Oh. Yes, that. You see, Terry and I…”

Ron noticed how uncomfortable Hermione looked. Surely it couldn’t be that hard, he thought. I mean, they’re only words! Besides, if she’s going to say what I think she’s going to say…

“We’re engaged.”

They may only have been words, but those words hurt worse than when he had had to burp slugs (for Hermione, he thought bitterly), worse than when he had been poisoned from the butterbeer in Slughorn’s office (though at least Hermione started talking to me again, he thought, almost with a smile), worse even than when he found out it had all been a trick, Voldemort had escaped once again, that the war wasn’t over. The ringing of those words, just churning round and round repeatedly in his ears hurt so much he might have missed the sound of his heart breaking.


“I should really go now,” Hermione said, looking down as she rose to leave. Ron nodded, looking down also.

“Hermione!” he called suddenly, making her pause before she reached the door and turn round. “Congratulations.” No, Ron thought. That word hurts the most.

Ron arrived back at The Burrow about an hour later, having wandered mindlessly around Diagon Alley, searching for something, anything, to take his mind off Hermione’s news. After he had failed to be distracted by Quality Quidditch Supplies (it took him ten minutes to realise he was staring at a Harpies Calendar before he moved on in disgust, only to stare mindlessly at a blank wall for another ten minutes), he had an inkling that he might not be dealing with the news well. He knew for certain that things were bad after he had spent a quarter of an hour in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and still all he could think of was Hermione (even after lollipops had started growing out of his nose, which he was sure was courtesy of the twins, even though they were back at the Burrow, waiting to torment him even more no doubt).

So he headed home, hoping something there would take his mind off it.

Understandably, he was not too pleased to see none other than Hermione standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oh, Ron!” Mrs. Weasley gushed excitedly. “Hermione has exciting news for us!” Ron noticed that assorted family members were seated around the table, eagerly awaiting whatever Hermione had to say.

“I know,” said Ron, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but apparently no-one noticed.

“Yes, that’s what Ron and I were talking about earlier,” Hermione explained. Ginny beamed. Ron gathered that she must have been thinking along the same lines as he had earlier. “You see, Terry and I were talking yesterday, and…” Everyone leaned forward with baited breath, except Ron, who pulled out a chair violently, the wood of the chair leg giving a terrible screeching noise against the cold stone floor, which in turn made the family wince and glare at him.

“And, you see - wait, where’s Harry?” Hermione broke off to ask, not seeing his familiar face looking up. Oh, what does it matter? Why drag it out? Ron wondered.

“He had to go into the office, to check something or other,” Ginny filled in. “Never mind him, get on with it!”

“Well…” I can’t take this, not again, Ron decided, getting up once more. “We’re engaged.” At those two words, Ron instantly fell back down, his legs seemed to have turned to lead. For a moment, no-one spoke. Ron could tell that, like him, no-one had been expecting that. But after that second, everyone got up, chattering excitedly and crowding round Hermione, asking to see her ring, had they set a date yet, and so on. Everyone apart from the twins, who had been waiting at The Burrow for Ron’s return, mainly so they could heckle him some more. But as they heard Hermione’s news, a new expression came over their faces and, if Ron didn’t know any better, he would have called it sympathy.

---

“Ron? Are you in there?” Harry called from outside Ron’s bedroom door. Ron grunted, slightly annoyed at being torn away from staring blankly at the ceiling. “I hear you’ve been hibernating since yesterday,” Harry said upon entering the room. “It’s Hermione, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, as Harry pretty much took it for granted that when Ron was upset or angry, Hermione would be in some way involved, whether they’d had an argument, or she’d had a strange expression on her face that caused Ron to trip over thin air and spill his pumpkin juice all over his paperwork, which meant he had to do it all over again, or other such incidences.

“No!” Ron protested, to no avail.

“I hear Ginny and Luna are bridesmaids.”

“Great.” Ron rolled over in his bed, hoping Harry would take the hint and leave.

“Hermione asked me if I wanted to be a groomsman. But that‘s mainly so I can walk Ginny down the aisle, she thought it would be weird if her own brother did it. Robert, a guy from Terry‘s work is going to be his best man.”

“Great.” Ron’s voice was slightly muffled by his pillow, which he had buried his head under.

“Ginny’s going shopping with her today to pick out - uh - bride…stuff.”

“Great.”

“Are you ever going to stop saying that?” Harry was beginning to get annoyed.

“No.”

“Well, that’s a start!” Harry said encouragingly. “Oh come on, Ron! You can‘t change anything by ignoring it! You have to get up, get out, and do something about it!”

“You know what? You‘re right!” Ron jumped out of his bed, having been struck with an idea.

“What?” Harry asked warily - he had a bad feeling about this.

“You‘re right,” he repeated. “I can’t change anything just hiding in my room, can I? I need to get out there and do something about it, before it's too late!” That answer did not please Harry. “Oh, Harry, I need to borrow your Invisibility Cloak,” Ron requested, though it sounded more like an order.

“Why?” Harry asked suspiciously, though he pulled it out of his pocket all the same.

“So I can follow Hermione,” Ron answered, almost running out of the room, snatching the cloak out of Harry’s hand as he passed.

“You know, that sounds like you're bordering on stalkerism!” Harry shouted after him, although Ron happily ignored it as the door slammed behind him.

---

“Oh, Hermione, this is all so exciting!” Ginny exclaimed as she looked at all the different wedding cakes. Ginny felt a similar thrill to when she had been making her own wedding preparations, especially with mouth watering beverages at such close proximity. She was tempted to ask if they did samples, when that made her think of someone else. “Wait - what did Ron say?”

“What did Ron say to what?” Hermione asked, seemingly absent-mindedly, but Ginny knew better. Hermione was never absent-minded when it came to Ron.

“When you told him you were engaged?” Ginny sometimes doubted her friend’s Outstanding exam results.

“Oh. Nothing really.” Hermione replied, though it looked like she was more interested in the different types of multiple tiered cakes.

“Nothing?” Ginny asked in disbelief. Not even her brother could be that insensitive.

“Congratulations.”

“What?” Ginny asked, feeling extremely confused, although she wasn't sure that it showed on her face, as her mouth was currently hanging open at the sight of the chocolate éclairs decorating one of the numerous cakes she was gawping at. Ginny briefly wondered what was bringing on her sudden sweet tooth, before turning her attention back to Hermione, forcing her to answer.

“That’s what he said. Congratulations.” Hermione looked away, either to consider the castle shaped cake with spiralling marzipan towers, or to hide the sadness in her eyes.

---

Ron arrived at Diagon Alley in time to see Hermione and Ginny leaving the bakery but too late to catch them up without being noticed, as a herd of people walked in-between him and the girls. He hurried after them, still concealed by the Invisibility Cloak.

“Hermione!” he called out, not sure if she would be able to hear through all the hustle of people all around. They looked as if they were heading to Madam Malkin's, which Ron didn't particularly want to enter, especially if they were picking out a wedding dress. Ginny was going that way - Hermione had stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“So I thought that maybe - Hermione? What's wrong?” Ginny stopped to notice that the bride-to-be wasn’t even near her, let alone listening to her. Hermione shook her head, as if there was water in her ears that she was trying to get out.

“No, I just thought I heard -” Hermione paused, thinking, before giving her head a final shake, “someone call my name, that’s all. But I must have imagined it. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Just that if you choose peonies, then the bridesmaid dresses will have to be…” As Ginny carried on, Hermione trailed off into thought, she was sure she had heard her name being called a minute ago. And let’s face it, not many people were called Hermione these days. Also, it had almost sounded like -

“Terry!” Hermione looked up to see her fiancé standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?” He leaned forwards to give her a hug, whilst, unbeknown to Hermione, Ron looked on.

“I was actually just coming back from a meeting, but I was hoping to run into you, as you said you and Ginny would be here. I thought we could have a look at the flowers and stuff together,” he suggested.

“That sounds nice,” agreed Hermione with a smile. “Though actually we were just about to go and look at dresses.”

“Well, how about I go and get the invitations made up?” The girls nodded and departed to their separate ways. Ron, who had been about to leave on the arrival of Terry, decided to call Hermione once more.

“You know, you are so lucky, Hermione!” Ginny told her, before Ron had a chance to call out again. “Having a fiancé like Terry!” Ron buried his head in his hands. “I mean, Harry was great, and he always, well, almost always, did what he was told, came for fittings and flowers and stuff. But honestly, sometimes I got the idea that he’d much rather be out playing Quidditch or something. Now, Terry actually came down here by himself! You've got him well trained - I’m impressed!” Ginny laughed, unaware of Ron’s anguish at her words.

“Yes, Terry’s really great,” agreed Hermione as they paused to look at the dresses in the window, though Ginny noticed she seemed to be rather distracted.

Ron, however, did not notice, and so turned to leave, saying softly, “Bye, Hermione.” As he had by then walked away, he didn’t see Hermione turn around again, towards the spot where he had been.

“I could have sworn…” Hermione trailed off, and rubbed her eyes as Ginny ushered her inside. “Ginny?” she asked hesitantly. “Is your brother here?”

“Which one? Isn’t this shade lovely!”

“Ron! Where’s Ron?!” Ginny looked at Hermione like she’d grown an extra nose (which would have been highly probable, only they‘d avoided the twins all day).

“I don’t know! Probably still hiding away in his room, like he has been since yesterday. Did you know, he didn't even come down for dinner? It’s worrying! Why do you care anyway?” she asked suspiciously, sitting down to watch Hermione try on dresses.

“Because I’m going crazy!” Hermione wailed from inside the changing room.

“Don’t worry, dear, everyone gets pre-wedding jitters!” the store clerk assured her. Ginny jumped; she hadn’t been aware anyone was listening. The girl, seeing her look, hurriedly went back to the till.

“I keep thinking I can hear Ron calling my name, but when I turn around, I can’t see anyone!” Hermione carried on, sounding like she was about to burst into tears. “This is awful! If I’m getting married to Terry, why is it all I can think about is Ron?”

“What does that tell you?” Ginny asked, wondering how the girl who knew about practically everything had let this one, very important, piece of knowledge escape her for so long.

“Oh my gosh,” Hermione gasped as she came out from the changing room, a look of recognition came over her. Ginny nodded. “It must be...temporary insanity!” Ginny fell forward onto the table whilst trying to give her a scathing look at the same time. Needless to say, she didn’t quite pull it off.

Of Birdcages, Babies and an Alternative Bird

Hermione smiled contentedly as she lay sprawled out on the sofa in her living room, carefully placing her finished book down on the side table. She mused that if her life were a book, it would be rather dull, as everything seemed to be going wonderfully - calmly, for once. She'd had more than enough adventure throughout her school years, and she was sure that there would be plenty more to come when they faced Voldemort again, but for now, everything was peaceful and running exactly as she'd planned. Wedding arrangements weren't nearly as hectic as she'd expected - she was sure that it was down to her and Terry both being so organised. If (purely hypothetically, she reassured herself), it were Ron she was marrying, she was certain things would not have been running so smoothly - although some of the time, that was what made things fun...

“Terry?” she called out, consciously bringing her thoughts back around to the man she was actually marrying. She wasn't able to see him sitting at the desk behind her, but she could tell from the sound of the quill scratching that he hadn’t left. “Can you believe it’s only two days until our wedding?”

“I know, it’s all come around so fast,” he agreed. Though not quite so excitedly as if he’d just made a breakthrough in his report, Hermione felt. She pushed the thought out of her mind immediately, feeling more than a little guilty.

“Think, soon it’s our wedding, who knows how long it will be until we’re having our first child!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to bring in the air of excitement she wanted to hear from her fiancé. "Then who knows how long it will be until we’re sitting on our rocking chairs, playing with our grandchildren!”

“Well, that will probably be a very long time.” Hermione looked round from her spot on the sofa to Terry, unmoved from his position at the desk.

“What do you mean by that?” Hermione laughed. “I’m not saying we’re old! I only meant it as one of those conversations you have with the person you love, thinking about how our lives are going to be together.”

“Oh, I know. I just don’t plan on having children too soon - if at all - that’s all.” Terry continued with his work as Hermione sat up, perturbed. "Besides, don't you think it's more wise to think about the present than the future?"

“What do you mean, you don’t want to have children?” she questioned, rather fiercely, it sounded to Terry.

“Well, you know how important my work is to me Hermione - I mean, I was a Ravenclaw after all!” he pointed out defensively, for the first time looking up from the parchment and quill in front of him. Hermione noticed that he didn't actually roll the parchment away and put the quill down to give her his undivided attention, before chiding herself for sounding so selfish.

“Are you saying you never want to have children? I mean, I know you were in Ravenclaw, but does being a Ravenclaw mean you don’t have feelings? For Merlin's sake Terry, old school houses don't mean everything, not now!” Hermione knew she was being hysterical, but she couldn’t help it. How could he have overlooked something so important to her? Perhaps it was the fact that she'd always taken for it for granted that one day, after all the fighting and horror was over, she would get married and have children, and get her happily ever after, like at the end of all fairytales. She hadn't even considered the prospect that the man she was marrying might not want the same things. After all, what would their future be without children? What would they do when all their friends were seeing their children off at the Hogwarts Express, or going to buy them new robes, their selection of schoolbooks, or even the latest Firebolt model? Wouldn't they feel lonely, not receiving any owls complaining about homework, or pleading for a written excuse to get out of serving detention in the Forbidden Forest, or asking for advice on what to do about the next Hogsmeade weekend? Hermione knew that she would, at least. Hermione knew that she hadn't always been exactly like other little girls - whilst the other girls had been playing with dolls and dressing-up, she had been reading, or experimenting with what she didn't quite understand but grew to learn was magic. When the other girls were beginning to experiment with make up and hair accessories, Hermione had always felt that it didn't matter how her hair looked every day at school, that what was important was what she learned and how she used it. But what she had been like every other little girl was in how she too had dreamt of her wedding, her husband, her children, her future. It was like an impossible jigsaw puzzle - try as she might, Hermione couldn't understand how she could get the picture to look right without one of the pieces.

She wondered why they hadn't had that conversation before, but secretly, she knew. Hermione wasn't too accustomed to thinking about the future - she agreed with Terry in that the present had always been far more pressing - and after all, there had always been the ominous undertone that they might not make it to the future throughout all of the perils she, Harry and Ron had lived through.

“Hermione!" said Terry reproachfully, finally putting down his quill and looking over to where she sat. "If I didn’t have feelings, why would I be marrying you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me!” she snapped. Terry turned away, obviously hurt. Hermione exhaled deeply, annoyed by the silence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He didn’t reply, irritating Hermione further. I never thought I’d see the day I’d be longing for Ron to retort back loudly at me, she thought, almost smiling at the (numerous) memories. “Only, this is really important to me. I just can’t believe you don’t want to start a family! I mean, I don‘t want to yet, but someday? Maybe we should have talked about this before - I just always assumed-”

“That’s OK,” Terry interrupted, speaking soothingly in hopes of placating Hermione. “You know, I didn't mean I never want to have children. It’s still an option. It’s just that I generally put my work first, and I really don’t think that’s going to change. Okay?” he asked in a gentle voice, patting Hermione's hand encouragingly as he left the room leaving Hermione still sitting, her mouth wide open and her head whirring with a lot more thoughts than she had previously had.

---

Ron couldn't believe that the day had come around so fast. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been following Hermione around and making elaborate plans to convince her to dump Terry and marry him, all of which seemed to end up with Terry hanging perilously off the edge of a cliff, or becoming the Giant Squid's new best friend.

But now it was the day Hermione was getting married. Not to him. To Terry. He still hadn't found a way to stop it - he had been too late once more, and it looked like time was running out. Fast. Although he personally expected the day to drag out like some horrible nightmare. To him that was what it was; a nightmare.

He still wasn’t sure how he had been roped into helping out with Harry’s duties as a groomsman, as that involved being in close proximity with Terry - and Hermione. Which might mean giving him one last chance to stop the wedding…

---

“Okay, Luna, you are in charge of the flowers, the food, the wizard conducting the ceremony, the guests, the ushers, the groomsmen, my parents, the hall, the caterers, the photographer, the seating, the speeches, the clothes, the lighting, the decorations, making sure no random animal intrude and the directions,” Hermione delegated to Luna’s nod of acceptance.

“Hey! What about me?” Hermione noticed that Ginny looked more than slightly put out. “I’m Maid of Honour! How come you haven‘t given me anything to do?” It was the morning of the wedding, and Hermione had everything to plan, complete with clipboard, so that nothing could ruin the day. That was the idea, anyway.

“Well, I weighed everything up so you would each get an equal amount to do,” she explained.

“How? There’s nothing left for me to do!”

“Oh yes there is. You’re in charge of the twins!” Hermione smiled as she turned back to the mirror, fixing her earrings.

Ginny paled, managing to utter only four words.

“This is so unfair!”

---

If Ginny had known that her job as Maid of Honour would have been this exhausting, she would have had second thoughts. If Ginny had known it would involve trying to keep track of and control Fred and George, she would have point blank refused. But Ginny had not known either of those things, and so had spent the past half an hour running around the venue, trying not to trip over her dress and look like a headless chicken, searching for her brothers.

“You can’t steal the groom and expect no one to notice!” Ginny hollered when she eventually found them. She half wished that she’d left them lost.

“Well…why not? It’s only Terry!” Fred asked, trying valiantly to defend himself.

“You have to put him back! Hermione will go mad! Or get mad - most likely at me, as I‘m supposed to keep you two from causing mayhem! Then I will get mad at you - and then you will find your faces incredibly disfigured with bats! So where is he?” The twins were impressed that such a loud noise could come from someone so small. They backed away towards the table behind them, trying and failing to show they were perhaps a little intimidated.

“Nowhere!” Fred protested at the same time as George admitted:

“The attic.” Ginny smiled triumphantly and sprinted out of the room, though making sure not to get her dress crinkled. If anyone had been watching, they would have found it very strange that evil grins returned to the twins’ faces almost immediately after their sister left, as they proceeded to bend down, lift up the tablecloth which had been trailing along the floor, and drag out the groom. The twins merrily ignored the muffled cries from beneath his makeshift gag, which looked suspiciously like one of Dobby‘s homemade socks. They suspected he would have tried to punch, kick and curse them if his arms and legs hadn’t been bound together with ribbon (which had previously been wrapped around some of the gifts). But as they were attempting to remove Terry from the room, Ginny reappeared, her face matching her hair, suggesting that she was not amused.

“There is no attic!” she yelled, only to find Fred and George standing in front of a moving bundle on the floor with semi-guilty expressions on their faces.

“Oh,” Fred said, attempting to ignore completely the bundle rolling around behind him, hoping that the muffled shouts of indignation wouldn't carry too far.

“Who’d have thought?” George added, trying to sound innocent. Ginny glared at them both.

“The five people I asked for directions!” Apparently her fury at being made a fool of overcame her curiosity at what (or who) exactly the thrashing table cloth behind the twins was. After giving them both fierce glares, she stormed out, also forgetting entirely the reason why she had been looking for the attic in the first place. Fred and George heaved a joint sigh of relief as they resumed transporting Terry to a more inconspicuous hiding place.

“Oh, so this is why we got Hermione a large bird cage as a wedding present!”

“Well, it was bound to come in useful at some point!”

The Wedding - A.K.A. Havoc



“Aren't you excited Hermione?” Ginny asked, upon her return. The bride was currently standing, staring at her reflection in the mirror, expressionless.



“Of course I am!” she replied, answering a little too quickly. "Why shouldn't I be - it's my wedding day! It's everything I have ever dreamed of - the perfect dress, the castle cake, a lovely groom. Right?" Ginny couldn't help but sense a tinge of uncertainty in her friend's voice, but she supposed all women had that on their wedding day. "I mean, nothing's wrong, is it? You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"



“Yes! The dress - it's gorgeous, Hermione. You look amazing! As for the cake... well, who doesn't like cake!" Ginny tried to smile reassuringly up at her friend, but Hermione's expression didn't loosen.



"And?"



"And what? Oh, Terry." Ginny couldn't quite convey the excitement that she felt she ought to into her voice. It had never been much of a secret that the Weasley family hadn’t quite taken to Terry. It was never mentioned, but they all seemed to harbour the secret hope that maybe one day it would be their son and brother, Ron, who Hermione would turn up with on her arm at some function or dinner.



"Oh, Terry's alright. Bit boring maybe, but -”



“Terry’s not boring! He’s really sweet!” she protested huffily, her mood changing from uncertain to defensive in an instant. “Anyway, just because he’s not the sky-diving type and he doesn't do Wonski Feints every other day doesn't mean he’s boring! What exactly would you deem "interesting" anyway?”



“Oh, I don’t know, doesn't he ever, you know, get into giant chess matches with live pieces, or, well, how about go down to battle in the Department of Mysteries, or face giant spiders in the middle of the school to save you or something? Or even just play Quidditch?” Ginny enquired innocently, averting her gaze from Hermione's glare.



“Wow, Ginny, your hints are so hilariously subtle," Hermione said flatly, narrowing her eyes. "Are you trying to say that you don't think I'm doing the right thing here?” she asked her Maid of Honour accusingly.



“No, no, not at all…” Ginny trailed off, realizing what a truly terrible Maid of Honour she was turning out to be. Honestly, how many decent Maids of Honour tried to convince the bride to leave the groom at the altar?



“Yes you were! Hang on a minute - you think we read too much, don’t you?”



Ginny tried to refrain from shouting and banging her friend‘s head against a wall - or against that of a certain brother of hers.



“Yes, Hermione, that’s exactly it!” she settled for saying exasperatedly, placating herself with the fact that, even in her frantic state, Hermione wouldn’t be able to miss the sarcasm heavy in her voice.



“Anyway, be realistic Ginny! Where could I find someone like that?”



It took all Ginny's willpower not to find a pillow to scream into, but luckily she was sufficiently distracted as she observed a chicken trotting past the open door, followed haphazardly a few seconds later by Luna. Perhaps only having responsibility for the twins wasn’t such a bad thing after all…



“Stark - raving - mental!” gasped Terry, making Ginny jump as he too appeared at the door, although unlike the chicken and Luna, he entered it. Staggering into the room, he looked a lot worse for wear then the average groom ought to on his wedding day.



“Terry! You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding! It‘s bad luck!” Ginny cried, shocked by his sudden arrival, as she jumped in front of Hermione in a vain attempt to shield her from view.



“Those - two -”



“Calm down,” Hermione sighed, having difficulty deciphering her fiancé’s words. “Wait a minute, are you talking about Fred and George?” she asked, and as she took in Terry's dishevelled appearance the realization dawned. She spun around to give Ginny an accusing glare.



“Yes,” Terry hissed venomously. Ginny rapidly muttered her excuses and fled the room faster than Harry whenever Romilda Vane threatened a visit.



“What did they do now?” Hermione noted for the first time the extent of his distinctly unorthodox appearance - which she hoped was from his encounter with the twins rather than simply a desire to get married in half a robe and purple spotted underwear.



“They stuffed me in a bird cage!” Terry yelled. Hermione thought she heard a stifled giggle from outside the door, but wisely decided to ignore it.



“So that’s what that big, ominous looking present was then?” she asked, with a determinedly straight face. “That’s a relief, I thought it might be more Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes merchandise!” Terry gave Hermione a look of utter disbelief. "Okay Terry, I can see you're upset -"



"Hermione, I was upset when they served me chicken for dinner that was still clucking and flapping it's wings before it proceeded to eat the rest of my meal. I was upset when they insulted my tie. I would say that they crossed the line from upsetting me to traumatising me sometime after they gagged me with a House-Elf's putrid socks and sometime before they stuffed me, the groom, into a birdcage, on our wedding day!"



"Right..." Hermione nodded slowly, considering the matter. "Do you think we should take them off our Christmas card list?"



“Hermione!" Terry exclaimed incredulously, unable to understand his fiancée at all at that moment. "They are completely, utterly, unhinged! Or had you not noticed? Thank Merlin this is the last time we ever have to see them again! I swear Hermione, this wedding has been one catastrophe after another! I don‘t know how much more I can take! The only consolation is that each disaster brings us closer to when we'll finally be married.” He sighed, falling backwards into the seat Ginny had just vacated. The fact that it was a stool and had no back for him to fall onto didn't help his already ruffled hair and clothes.



“I thought it was going rather well, actually! But then I suppose in comparison to being chased through the Department of Mysteries by a dozen Death Eaters, or releasing an illegally imported dragon to Romania, losing a great-aunt in the toilet for half a week and having the groom imprisoned in a bird cage doesn't seem so ba - Yes, well, things never go smoothly, well - ever." Hermione tried to placate him by patting his arm, realising her choice of words weren't the most soothing. "Hang on - what do you mean, we won’t have to see them ever again? What about when we’re visiting at The Burrow? Or in Diagon Alley? I know what they did was awful, but I think you’re being a bit extreme, dear.”



“Oh, no! I absolutely refuse to see those two - two - maniacs ever again!” Terry was too busy rubbing the back of his head and trying to straighten out what remained of his robes to notice the look of amazement on his bride-to-be’s face.



“Terry! I know they can be completely maddening; absolute clowns with no thought whatsoever of the consequences, and - well, a lot more, but they’re still Weasleys! They’re still my friends! We can’t avoid them forever!” Hermione cried, unable to hide the disbelief from her voice. The lack of affection between Terry and the Weasleys had been mutual, and that both parties merely tolerated one another for Hermione's benefit had always been clear, but Hermione had never thought that Terry felt so strongly about not wanting to see them.



“Oh, we can try Hermione!" Terry replied. "Anyway, there'll be plenty of time to talk about it after the wedding, won't there? Only half an hour - can you believe it?”



Terry’s smile had returned as he calmed down enough to leave the room, blowing Hermione a kiss as he went.





“No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

---

Ginny had been given strict instructions to deliver the twins to Mrs. Weasley and to shepherd Terry out of harm’s way. She wisely decided to make sure Terry was safe before tackling the twins, and so when she found Harry and Ron en-route, she delegated them the task of making sure Terry was fully ready for the swiftly upcoming wedding.



Needless to say, Harry and Ron were slightly less than overjoyed at this request, and voiced it rather loudly until after a threatening wave of Ginny's wands, when they rediscovered their long-time love of picking out bow-ties.



“Isn't it ironic," Terry began to his less than enthusiastic chaperones, "Hermione was set to go out with you the day she and I got together. So I guess, if it wasn’t for you, we probably wouldn’t be doing this today!” Terry, whose mood had lightened considerably the more distance had been placed between him and twins and the closer it got to the actual wedding, told Ron cheerfully as he combed back his hair. Harry could tell from the lethal expression on Ron’s face exactly how big a fan of irony he was.



“You know what‘s funny?” Terry continued, straightening his robe in the mirror as he prepared to leave.



“No,” said Ron, with gritted teeth and an expression which all too plainly showed that pretty much all he would find amusing right now would be to see Terry dangled upside down by his ankles by Millicent Bulstrode, preferably whilst he was wearing pink underwear. But somehow Terry seemed to have missed the look upon his face, or had just taken it to be something Ron had eaten, as he carried on regardless.



“Back at school, I always thought it would be you and Hermione!” Terry finished with a small chuckle, turning to leave the room. Harry was surprised to see that Ron’s glare had faded and that Terry had remained intact.



“Yeah,” Ron's expression had grown softer, sadder, as he agreed quietly. “So did I.”