"Oh, Hermione, you're here!"
As soon as she stepped in the door, Hermione Granger was embraced by a plump, floury Mrs. Weasley. Behind her, a gangly red-haired boy lingered awkwardly. Hermione's heart thudded.
"Well, it will be very nice to have another pair of helping hands, that French woman hasn't the least idea how to cook wholesome meals, unless you call snails wholesome, and of course Fleur is too busy with her gown and bridesmaids," Mrs. Weasley chattered. Hermione noticed that she didn't say a single derogatory word against Fleur. "Gabrielle is a sweet little girl, but not very skilled in matters of the kitchen or of cleaning. Ginny's just sulking, you know her. Hermione, dear, if you wouldn't mind, put your things in Ginny's room and come down to help me with a bit of cooking? I told Tonks and Remus to come by for dinner."
Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron at the news of the couple; he blushed and wouldn't look at her.
Is he – ? Does he – ? Hermione thought hopefully.
"Ron, come up with me?" she queried timidly.
"Oh – oh yeah, sure," he agreed hastily. "Er, I'll take your bag…" He brushed his hand against hers in his effort to grab the handle. Their faces turned red.
Hermione smiled at him. "It's okay, Ron."
To her utter surprise and glee, Ron suddenly stooped down and planted a kiss on her cheek. "It's – it's nice to see you," he stammered as an explanation.
"Oh," Hermione said softly, her cheeks coloring. "Well, it's, er, it's really nice to see you as well."
Conversation was out of the question as they walked up the stairs — or, in Ron's case, tripped up the stairs. Not graceful at the best of times, suddenly he had two left feet.
"Ron, is there something the matter?" Hermione finally ventured.
Ron breathed in deeply and exhaled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, er, a bit. Hermione, I just wanted to ask, would you — ?"
"Hi, Hermione!"
Ginny bounced out of her room, cutting of Ron's words. He looked, Hermione couldn't help but notice, a little relieved.
"Hi, Ginny!" Hermione returned, grateful for the distraction. "How's it been?"
For a moment, Ginny's face fell. Then she brightened again. "Oh, well, it's been all right. A little sad, a little obnoxious," she admitted with good cheer. "I mostly amuse myself by watching Lupin and Tonks together. You wouldn't expect him to be that good a snogger, but he and Tonks seem quite into it." Ginny grinned wickedly. "Spying has its merits."
Ron shuddered. Hermione frowned at him. "What's wrong?"
"It's just — that was our teacher," he moaned.
Hermione brow knitted further. "So?"
"Watching a teacher do that sort of stuff as opposed to watching a teenager do it…well, it's just creepy," Ron explained helplessly. "I mean, Lupin's a great guy and all, but he's…what, he's like thirty-seven or so, and he's snogging Tonks, who's a pink-haired twenty-four-year-old. Just doesn't mesh, you know?"
Hermione glanced back and forth between the Weasley siblings uncertainly. "Do you mean they…you know…snog in front of everyone?"
Ginny snorted. "Correction. Tonks occasionally lays one on him in full view, but Lupin always blushes. We watched them leave out the window, once, and they snogged for ages. I thought their faces would turn blue from oxygen loss."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. Sweet as the two in question were, she couldn't bring herself to picture them passionately kissing. That was a taboo subject about teachers.
"Well, enough of snogging," she said uncomfortably. "Er, do you know when Harry's coming?"
Ginny's face darkened again. "Sometime later this evening, I think."
"Yeah," Ron affirmed.
"Oh, good," Hermione sighed. For some reason, things with Ron were extremely awkward, more so than they had been in the school year.
Ron cast her a suspicious look. "Why d'you want to know so badly?" he asked rather nastily. "Missing him?"
"Yes, I am!" Hermione snapped haughtily. "After all, Harry is one of my best friends, you know, and frankly, you're not being a very good conversationalist right now, Ronald!" She flounced past Ginny into the room.
Ginny, laughing uproariously, shut the door in Ron's aghast face. "That was wicked!" she chortled happily. "Oh, Hermione, the look on his face…"
Hermione bit her lip rather nervously. "I didn't offend him too badly, did I?"
"No worse than usual," Ginny assured her, still grinning. "Hermione, why don't you just tell him you fancy him?"
Hermione flopped onto the bed. "I as good as did," she mumbled. "I invited him to go to that party with me. I was ridiculously outraged when he was snogging Lavender. I cried on his shoulder at the…well, you know. What more am I supposed to do? Prance around with a neon sign that reads, 'Snog me, Ronald Weasley'?"
Ginny pursed her lips. "Not a bad idea, actually. I'm kidding," she added hastily. "Hermione, I have the strong suspicion that he fancies you quite a lot."
Hermione sat up quickly. "What makes you think that?"
"Well, it could have been the fact that I heard him pacing in his room muttering, 'How do I tell Hermione I fancy her?'" Ginny said honestly.
Hermione smiled delightedly. "Really?"
"Really," Ginny confirmed. "Just say it to him. At least dance with him."
"It's not that easy — " Hermione started, but at that moment, Mrs. Weasley's shout of, "Girls, come help in the kitchen!" rang up the stairs.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Back to the toil of slavery."
They went down, each wrapped up in thoughts of romance and snogging.
Harry arrived a few hours later, much to everyone's – except Ginny's – glee. The four were joined by Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle, who was sweet, if rather quiet. However, that did not allow them much of an opportunity to talk about certain important matters, such as Horcruxes and Hogwarts.
Soon their stomachs began growling, and Ron took to checking the time frequently. "When are they going to get here?" he moaned, referring to the absent couple.
"Didn't think you'd ever want to see them, Ron," Ginny jibed scathingly.
Ron shrugged, missing the insult. "If it means food, let them come."
Directly after he said this, a shout rang up the stairs. "Good evening, Weasley family and company!"
The teenagers grinned at each other. "Tonks," they chorused, bolting down the stairs.
Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry skidded into the kitchen and laid their eyes on the newcomers.
For a moment, Hermione thought she was imagining things. Professor Lupin…wouldn't have his arm around her waist, would he? Tonks wouldn't have suspiciously red and swollen lips, would she?
And above all, Tonks wouldn't be wearing a small but sparkly diamond ring on her left ring finger…would she?
Ginny followed the direction of Hermione's gaze. "Oh, yeah," she said, smiling slyly, "we forgot to tell you about that, didn't we?"
Tonks saw them and beamed. "Wotcher, everyone!" To Hermione's surprise, the woman came over and hugged Harry and her. "Good to see you two, especially. I've been dealing with the Weasley rascals all summer, but you two are fresh faces."
Hermione blinked, surprised, but decided that being in love must make you more affectionate. "You too, Tonks. And congratulations!" She threw a glance at Lupin. "And to you as well, Professor."
"Thanks, Hermione," Lupin said cheerfully.
Tonks grinned at Hermione and Ginny conspiratorially. "I practically had to ask him myself," she whispered so that only the two girls could hear. They giggled.
"Let's eat, everyone!" Mrs. Weasley was carrying steaming platters of food to the table by now. "Get it before it's cold."
Tonks bounded over. "I'll help, Molly!"
Mrs. Weasley hesitated. "Oh, there's not too much more, dear — "
"No, I'd better get used to this household stuff before I – OOF!"
Tonks tripped on the kitchen floor and staggered forward. Lupin instantly leaped up and caught her around the waist, steadying her.
She smiled up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Remus." Then she kissed him. Ginny was right, Hermione noted, he did flush an interesting shade of pink when snogged in company.
"Come, let's sit down," Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at them.
Ginny frowned as they sat. "Where is everyone?"
"My mother ees not feeling vairy well," Gabrielle volunteered. "She deecided to skeep dinnair."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Your father's still at work, of course, and Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur all went to eat down in the village." She sighed, obviously worried. "I do hope Charlie makes it here in time, but work is awfully busy for him, you know."
The dinner was quite pleasant, made amusing by Tonks's funny comments and witty banter. Lupin injected bits of humor into the conversation as well. All in all, Hermione would have enjoyed it quite a lot if there weren't more pressing matters that needed to be spoken of with Ron and Harry…
But Hermione couldn't quite escape after dinner. Ginny tugged her sleeve and mouthed, 'Come with me,' so she had nothing to do but oblige. Quietly, the two sneaked into a little-used, long-forgotten alcove that looked out into the front yard.
Hermione, a little cramped in the small space, raised her eyebrows at Ginny. "Why are we here?" she asked bluntly.
Ginny, who was peering out the window, suddenly smiled smugly, her eyes fixed on something outside. She motioned for Hermione to come over. "This is what I was talking about," she explained. Hermione, frowning, peeked out as well.
Tonks and Lupin were leaving the Burrow hand in hand, their shoulders so close that they touched. Before they reached the usual Apparating spot, they turned to each other, and…
"Oh, my," Hermione breathed, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "I'm not sure we should be watching this — "
"Don't be like that, you prude," Ginny retorted promptly. "It's not as if they're undressing each other, or anything."
Hermione shuddered at the thought. "But – but – he's kissing her neck! Ron's right, this really is strange."
When Ginny didn't answer, Hermione glanced at her. She was surprised to see a gentle, warm light kindling in Ginny's eyes. "No, it's not," Ginny said softly. "It's sweet. It's love."
Hermione bit her lip and didn't answer, only turned back and watched the couple. Then she looked closer.
Ginny was right. It wasn't strange anymore, with an impersonal eye. Even from here, Hermione could see the love shining in Lupin's eyes when he pulled back and rested his forehead on Tonks's.
"Oh," Hermione muttered uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose."
Ginny sized her up practically. "Hermione, how are you ever going to handle dating Ron if you're this unromantic?"
"I am not unromantic!" Hermione snapped, all the more vehemently because it was true. "Don't forget about Viktor, Ginny. After all, you're the one who rubbed it in Ron's face that I snogged him."
Ginny grinned. "Yeah, but you didn't really like Viktor as much as Ron, did you? You were mostly just trying to make Ron jealous."
Hermione blushed furiously. "No!" she protested. "I really did like Viktor."
"But of course," Ginny said absently. "Oh, they Apparated. Well, let's go find the boys."
Ginny exited the dark nook. Hermione started after her, then paused, thinking about what she'd just witnessed. If Tonks could rope in guilt-ridden Lupin, maybe there was hope for Ron and her.
Smiling, Hermione followed Ginny.
Crazy as the next week was, the wedding was slow to approach, almost supernaturally so. However, not even Time can stop to torture humans, and eventually the morning dawned.
"Eet looks like zere weel be rain," Gabrielle said worriedly, peering out the window.
Hermione glanced out quickly. "Oh, nonsense. There's about one cloud in the sky."
Ginny said nothing. She was struggling into her ivory dress robes. Fleur, in picking out the bridesmaids' dress robes, changed her mind from gold and said that white was the only color that both the girls would look good in.
"We would've been fine in gold," Ginny grumbled, apparently thinking along the same lines as Hermione.
"Oh, non, eet ees 'orrible with my 'air," Gabrielle protested gently. Secretly, Hermione thought the girl, young as she was, could not look horrible in anything, and instantly regretted her jealousy.
"Well, anyway, you two are both lovely in ivory, and Fleur will stand out in silver," Hermione said.
"What color are you wearing, Hermione?" Ginny queried.
"Oh." Hermione blushed. "Well…all right, you're going to laugh at me…I mean, there really wasn't much selection there, I didn't have much of a choice…"
Ginny folded her arms implacably. "Hermione, let me see them."
Sighing rather miserably, Hermione pulled the offending robes out.
Ginny's face didn't change a bit save for the slight twitching at the corners of her mouth. "They're…pink."
"I prefer 'dusty rose,'" Hermione said defensively. "These were really the only ones. The only other color was orange and I hate orange."
Ginny shrugged prosaically. "Well, at least they're not lavender," she said innocently, which earned her a glare from Hermione. "Oh, come on, they're really not that bad, and I'm sure you look very nice in them. You and Ron will look like baby decorations, though, he has light blue, and that might give Bill and Fleur the wrong idea."
Gabrielle gasped. "Oh, eet would be lovely to 'ave a baby in zee family!"
Ginny snorted. "Well, it would be one pretty kid, that's all I have to say."
The three prepared themselves for the upcoming event with relative ease, although Hermione needed help with her unruly hair and Ginny insisted on putting makeup on her.
It was a nervous, giggly procession that stumbled down the stairs, patting pieces of hair in place and trying not to wrinkle their robes. Hermione, not girly in the best of times, was actually getting caught up in Ginny and Gabrielle's mutual excitement over their appearances, much to her dismay.
At the entrance to the kitchen, she paused, awkward again. From the sounds of it, Ron and Harry, as well as the twins, were already there.
Ginny saw Hermione's hesitation over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of — !" She grabbed Hermione's arm, heedless of creasing the fabric, and tugged her in.
Ron's awed, shocked countenance was nearly reward enough, she decided as she stood in the middle of the floor, blushing for all she was worth.
"Why, Hermione, you look lovely!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "That shade of pink is perfect for you."
No pink is perfect for me, Hermione thought mutinously, but almost changed her mind when Ron swallowed audibly and said, "Wow, Hermione…you look great."
"Thanks, Ron," she said, sitting down to eat breakfast. "You look nice yourself." He did, in fact, as the baby blue of his robes certainly set off his eyes to perfection.
Harry also had new robes. "Scarlet for Gryffindor, I suppose?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged, smiling slightly. "Right." He lowered his voice so only she and Ron could hear. "Or for blood."
Hermione cast him a nervous, worried glance. "Harry, you — ?"
"Oh, eet ees entirely too 'ot in zis keetchen!"
Fleur's rail-thin mother, apparently over her indisposition from the previous night, sailed in. It was only minutes before the couple entered the kitchen, Charlie knocked on the door, and Mr. Weasley emerged from his study. The pandemonium was incredible. Eventually, Mrs. Weasley ordered the teenagers and Gabrielle into another room to fritter away the hours until the wedding.
And so they frittered. Hermione read an advanced book of Transfigurations; Ron and Harry played Exploding Snap; and Ginny and Gabrielle pored over their supplies of WonderWitch products. The clock ticked relentlessly.
After about a decade of waiting, Mrs. Weasley poked her head in, her entire person quivering with suppressed excitement and tears. "All right, it's nearly time," she whispered excitedly. "Ginny, Gabrielle, come with me. Dears, you three go find yourselves seats right up front with the family."
Hermione and Harry followed Ron across the lawn to the vastly decorated trellis arch and folding chairs in front of it. They slipped into the end of second row and seated themselves. Somehow, Hermione found herself squashed between Ron and Harry, which was uncomfortable in more ways than one.
"You've had a good summer, Hermione?" Ron asked absently, his face inexplicably pink.
"Oh, it's – it's been all right," she replied, flustered. "You?"
"A little dull," he managed, yanking at the collar of his shirt.
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione, finicky even in the face of the boy she loved, couldn't resist. She leaned across him and, reaching just below the clasp of his dress robes, straightened the tie and collar again. "You've made a mess of yourself."
Their eyes locked, and Hermione gulped, suddenly feeble. She sat back with a thump. "Stop fidgeting," she said faintly.
Ron stared at her for a moment, then looked down. "Right," he said tersely, not meeting her eyes.
Feeling rather snubbed, Hermione faced Harry, determined to be cheerful. She opened her mouth to speak, then noticed the soft but smug grin that decorated his lips.
"What are you smirking about?" she asked crossly.
"Nothing," he replied innocently. "Oh, look, it's starting!"
Hermione craned her neck. Bill was standing at the altar, looking extremely dashing in his tailored navy robes, an indescribably happy grin wreathing his face as he watched two small children toddle their way down the aisle. The little blonde girl flung petals with careless abandon as the older redhead boy bore a tasseled pillow with marked solemnity. Hermione smiled when he tossed the girl a withering glance of scorn, which she returned by blowing a raspberry.
Ginny and Gabrielle, resplendent in their creamy robes, proceeded next, clutching bouquets of white flowers that Hermione couldn't name. On her right, Harry breathed in sharply. Hermione could understand why: Ginny was utterly gorgeous, in a way she herself would never be.
And then, to the sounds of an enchanted organ, came Fleur, shining with a beauty so bright it nearly blinded them.
It was everything a wedding should be: properly sentimental and bittersweet, punctuated by the sounds of matrons sniffling and men clearing their throats anxiously, uncomfortable in their stuffy robes and thinking longingly of dinner. Hermione's attention never wavered, however, as she gazed at the couple and wondered wistfully if this would ever be for her…
"You may now kiss the bride."
Hermione averted her eyes as Bill leaned toward Fleur. It hurt a bit too much to watch. Neither did she join in the raucous cheers as the two sped back down the aisle, beaming and tripping, to the house, where they would change out of their wedding finery and into more casual robes.
In the meantime, some of the adults began conjuring small round tables for the reception. Mrs. Weasley grabbed the nearest female relations and recruited them for kitchen duty.
"Come on, let's sit," Harry advised, darting over to the nearest table. Hermione joined him, closely followed by Ron and Ginny. They had not sat particularly strategically for awkwardness: Hermione was between Ginny and Ron, the former of whom was on Harry's right.
"Mind if we sit here?"
Hermione glanced up and, to her immense surprise, saw Tonks in blinding yellow robes and Lupin in more sedate forest green standing above them.
"Not at all," Ron choked out desperately. Hermione agreed — under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be too chuffed at having the couple lingering around them, despite how much she liked them. In this case, they would be welcome: the tension at the table was thick enough to be cut up and served for dinner.
"If you don't mind my asking, why not sit with, er, adults?" Harry asked.
"Everywhere else is full," Lupin supplied. "And I think Molly wanted someone responsible at this table," he added, smiling slightly.
Ginny grinned. "So she sent Tonks?"
"No, she sent Remus," Tonks contradicted cheerfully. "Where one goes, the other follows, like it or not."
Tonks then proceeded to ask Harry about his plans of becoming an Auror, and the question continued on to career advice. From the drawn, sad line of Harry's mouth, Hermione could tell he was wondering if he'd even have that future, but everyone wisely kept quiet about plans for the upcoming school year.
A chord of music interrupted their speech. Turning, Hermione caught sight of a classy-looking silver-haired witch who'd obviously had cosmetic surgery somewhere readying herself to sing. "Who is that?" she asked.
"Celestina Warbeck," Lupin replied, smiling slightly at Tonks for no reason that Hermione could fathom.
The woman began to croon something soft and jazzy as food appeared on the tables. Too famished to pay much attention to anything else, Hermione fell upon the repast gratefully, as did everyone else.
For the most part, chatter covered up Celestina's singing, but as the remnants of the meals faded away, there was no disguising the slow, romantic beat of her music. Bill and Fleur were naturally the first out on the floor for a whole song. After that, Bill dragged a sobbing Mrs. Weasley onto the cleared space for dancing while Fleur waltzed with her father. After that, however…
"Come on, let's go," Tonks said happily, lacing her hand into Lupin's.
"Do we…?" he started hopelessly, smiling despite himself.
"Yes," she answered with a teasing grin, "we do."
Hermione watched the two wrap their arms around each other. Something in the way Lupin stared down at the pink head nestled on his shoulder caused her throat to close up.
"You okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked.
"Fine," she sniffed. "Hay fever, that's all."
Perhaps Ginny would have continued, or hinted that Hermione should ask Ron to dance, but before she could open her determined mouth, Harry said quietly, "Ginny, d'you want to dance?"
The younger girl all but melted. It never ceased to amaze Hermione how, sometimes, the right words from Harry could turn a strong-willed teenager into a shy little girl. "Yeah, of course, Harry," Ginny answered, just as softly. The once-couple floated onto the dance floor. They, too, had the expressions of wonder and joy so absolute it caused pain.
From her right, Ron glanced up anxiously. "Hay fever that bad?"
Hermione wiped her eyes. "I'm sure I'll be all right in a moment."
Ron shifted. "Well, er, Mum has some potion for that, if you want it."
Curse him for being so thick. "It's fine, Ronald," Hermione retorted, a bit testily.
"You don't have to snap at me!"
"Well, you didn't need to keep insisting, I told you I'm fine!"
"You don't look it!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I mean, you're bloody crying and sniffling all over the place…"
"Some of the pollen must have blown over, really…"
"Right, well, d'you want to get up and dance to get away from it?"
For a shocked moment, Hermione stared at Ron, trying to hear through the buzzing in her ears. Ron wore an expression last seen when he was belching slugs. "Sorry, Hermione," he mumbled, running his hands through his hair.
"Well – I – er – I – well, if you were serious, Ron, of course I'll dance with you," Hermione stuttered, losing control of her tongue for one of the first times.
He gaped at her. "Really?"
Hermione nodded, barely suppressing a beam.
"Oh. Er. All right, then." Ron stood awkwardly and held out his hand in an attempt at gallantry. "Let's go."
Hermione slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet and over to the dance floor. There they stood, self-conscious and blushing.
"Erm…I'm not sure how to do this…"
"Not really me, either." Hermione smiled at him. "I've only done it once, and, well, don't really remember…not sure we did it right, at any rate…"
They settled on copying Lupin and Tonks, who certainly knew what they were doing (and were capable of multitasking; Hermione hadn't known you could kiss and waltz at the same time, but apparently so). Ron's hand on her waist was as light and unsure as a butterfly: his touch trembled, wavered, as if he might snatch it away at any moment. His other hand, however, held hers in a sure, if slightly sweaty, clasp.
"Maybe it's these potions fumes I've inhaled / backfired spells that I've tried and failed / it could be a sign from up above / but you know what it is? I think it's love…" Celestina Warbeck breathed.
The music and the atmosphere made Hermione both drowsy and brave. Hesitantly, she pillowed her head against Ron's chest, breathing in his clean scent of freshly cut grass. Emboldened by her action, he in turn rested his chin against the top of her head. Did his lips brush her hair? Possibly.
Hermione smiled to herself. Perhaps she, Ron, and Harry wouldn't go back to Hogwarts. Perhaps they'd be killed. These were the hardest times anyone could live through. It was a dangerous world.
But for the time being, at least she had this.
And perhaps, one day, it would all turn out for the better.
No other road, no other way,
No day but today…