Harry took one last glance at Number 4 Privet drive, knowing he’d never be back and not feeling at all sorry about it. For the first time in his life he was completely on his own and strangely enough, the thought gave him a lot more pleasure than he had ever imagined.
“Come on, Harry,” Ron said, giving him a curious look. “Hermione’s waiting for us.”
“Right,” Harry replied. Ron tapped Harry’s trunk with his wand to perform the Disillusionment Charm then bewitched it to float along in front of them as they made their way toward Wisteria Walk.
“You know how Hermione is,” Ron said, grinning broadly. “She’s probably having kittens by now. Where are they? They’re going to make us late for the wedding.”
As they approached Mrs. Figg’s front door, sure enough, Hermione was waiting, peering through the curtains in front window. The moment she spotted them she ran to throw open the front door. “There you both are. What kept you?” she demanded.
“Harry was packing, Hermione,” Ron argued, shooting Harry an I-told-you-so look.
“You mean to tell me that it took you two this long to pack using magic and everything,” Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.
“Sorry, let’s get going,” Harry cut in just as Ron was opening his mouth to retort.
Mrs Figg’s house was exactly as Harry remembered it though he hadn’t been there for a couple years. The same doilies covered the dusty old furniture, the same cabbage-smell permeated the house and the same framed photographs of her pet cats sat on every available surface.
“Merlin’s beard, Harry It’s good to see you,” exclaimed Mrs. Figg, shuffling up in her carpet slippers.
“Thanks, it’s, er, good to see you too, Mrs. Figg. Er, how’s Mr. Tibbles,” inquired Harry, trying to think of something nice to say.
“Oh, Tibbles is fine. Getting on in years, but still the best friend an old woman could have. And who is this?” asked Mrs. Figg, noticing Ron for the first time. “You must be Ron. Hermione told me so much about you. You are Arthur and Molly’s son, right?”
“Right,” Ron said, looking awkwardly around the room. “Nice to meet you.”
Hermione turned to Mrs. Figg and gave her a hug. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here.”
“Oh, my dear, it was no trouble at all,” beamed Mrs. Figg, looking very pleased. “Well, I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer. I’d offer you some tea, but I know you’re in a hurry. Over here, dears, to the Floo.”
“I thought only wizarding households were connected to the network,” Harry said, looking slightly puzzled.
“Well, considering the present circumstances, Dumbledore managed to arrange for my Floo to be connected as a safety precaution. R-right before he died,” muttered Mrs. Figg, her eyes filling with tears. For a moment the four of them hung their heads, not knowing what to say.
“Yes, well, you don’t want to be late,” sniffed Mrs. Figg, wiping her eyes on one of her doilies.
Ron went first carrying Harry’s trunk. “Bye,” he said to Mrs. Figg. He stepped into her fireplace and disappeared into the emerald flames as he shouted “The Burrow.”
Hermione gave Mrs. Figg another hug and disappeared into the fire after Ron.
Harry stood in front of Mrs. Figg. “Well, thank you for everything,” he said.
Mrs. Figg pulled him into an exceptionally strong hug for someone her age. “Harry, your parents, they were good people and you’ve grown into a fine young man.” Tears streaming down her lined face. “If you ever get a chance, please do come by and visit.”
Harry suddenly felt very sorry for the batty old woman who used to take care of him during the Dursleys’ excursions. “I will,” Harry said, softly.
He stepped into the fire. “The Burrow,” he said forcefully. The sight of the waving Mrs. Figg soon was pulled away as he spun faster and faster through the emerald fire. He eventually slowed down and fell onto the stone floor in the Weasley’s kitchen. As he straightened up, he looked around the busy room. Mrs. Weasley was waving her wand around like a conductor, chopping vegetables, stirring pots, mopping the floor. The kitchen was thick with the smell of her delicious cooking.
“Harry, dear ” cried Mrs. Weasley, pulling him into a hug. “So good to see you. You lot had better get upstairs straight away and get into your dress robes. The guests are going to be arriving soon. You do have your dress robes nicely pressed like I asked you to, don’t you Ron?”
Ron looked a bit guilty. Mrs Weasley noticed this and immediately began to turn red in the face. “I asked you to get one thing done and you couldn’t even do that,” she shouted. “ If your robes have one wrinkle when that ceremony starts I’m going to...”
“It’s ok, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione cut in. “I’ll make sure Ron looks presentable.”
“Thank you, Hermione,” she said, shooting Ron a disgruntled look before returning to her conducting.
Harry Ron and Hermione clamored up the stairs.
“Presentable,” Ron spat out as if the word had a funny taste. “What do you mean by that?”
Hermione shot Ron an exasperated look, but otherwise ignored him. As they passed Ginny’s room, Harry paused and looked at the door, wondering if she was inside.
“She’s not in there,” Hermione said, following Harry’s gaze. “Ron’s mum said that Ginny, Gabrielle, and Fleur are at Madame Malkin’s getting their final fittings.”
“I didn’t ask,” Harry frowned , furrowing his brow, damning himself for being so transparent.
“You didn’t have to. You’ve been moping around this entire week and Ron says that you keep asking if he’d heard anything from her,” Hermione smirked.
Harry scowled. Ron’s ears turned red and he walked quicker up the steps.
When Ron got into his bedroom, he walked straight to his trunk. He pulled out his dress robes, which were crumpled up among graded essays and battered books.
“Ron ” Hermione exclaimed, taking the robes from him and holding them up. Harry began to laugh, but a stern look from Hermione quieted him again.
“They could use a little work,” Ron said, his face flushing slightly.
Hermione shook her head, though a slight smile had briefly crossed her lips. “It’s not too bad. At least they’re clean,” Hermione sighed. She took out her wand and waved it so that a jet of hot steam issued from the tip and within a few minutes the wrinkles had disappeared.
“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron mumbled, as she handed him his robes.
“I’m going to get ready in Ginny’s room,” Hermione said, walking toward Ron’s open bedroom door. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Ron walked over to the door and shut it. “Well, I guess we had better make ourselves presentable,” Ron grumbled, crossing back to his bed where he laid his freshly steamed robes.
Harry shook his head at Ron. “What’s wrong with presentable?”
Ron pulled his shirt over his head, his hair tousled as he emerged. “She says it like she doesn’t expect me to look nice. Like all I can be is presentable.”
“Mate, you’re reading way too much into what she said. You should be happy that she kept your mum from yelling at you,” Harry pointed out. Ron frowned, but didn’t say anything.
It didn’t take long for Harry and Ron to change into their robes. Afterward they sat on Ron’s bed and talked about the latest Quidditch match between the Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United where the Cannons had lost by a spectacular 17 goals.
“What’s keeping Hermione?” Ron finally asked, looking at the gold watch he had received as a birthday gift last March.
Harry yawned and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t know. She’s a girl. They tend to shoot beyond presentable.”
Ron scowled and hit him with a pillow. Just then, the door swung open. Hermione entered looking extremely pretty. She was wearing rose colored silk robes that swayed elegantly as she moved across Ron’s bedroom. Somehow she had tamed her unruly curls into soft ringlets that now cascaded down her back. Harry looked at Ron, who had frozen, still clutching his pillow, his face steadily turning purple at the sight of Hermione.
“What have you guys been doing?”she asked suspiciously.
“Just joking around,” Harry said. “Hermione, you look very nice.”
Hermione smiled. “Thanks, so do the both of you.”
Ron seemed to have finally regained speech. He stood up and took a few strides toward Hermione. “So then I look presentable enough for you?” Ron asked, sarcastically.
Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Ron, you prat,” he muttered under his breath.
“Not quite,” Hermione said. She reached her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair, smoothing down the strands that had become disheveled when he had changed. Ron shivered slightly at her touch. “There, that’s better.”
Ron’s bottom lip was shaking. “Thanks, Hermione.”
The pair stood for a few moments looking at each other, oblivious to the fact that Harry was still in the room and was awkwardly looking for an escape route. Hermione finally snapped out of it. With what looked like considerable effort, she turned away from Ron and stepped toward the window. “It looks like people are starting to arrive. Are you ready to go down?”
Harry jumped up, eager to put as much distance between him and his friends as possible in case they decided to do something like that again. Harry walked out the door of Ron’s room and began to head downstairs. He didn’t notice that Ron had held Hermione back for a moment.
“Y-you look really pretty, Hermione,” he said, his ears turning a deep crimson color.
“Thanks, Ron,” she replied, her cheeks coloring to match her robes. “You look very handsome. I’ve always liked you in maroon.”
With that Hermione walked through the door and headed downstairs followed by a very confused, but pleased Ron.
Harry gave his friends a suspicious look as they reached the bottom of the stairs, but before he could say anything the doorbell rang. Mrs Weasley swept past them. She was not frantically doing several tasks at once as she had been earlier, but she still greeted them with a very strained smile. “You lot go outside, we should be starting fairly soon.”
“Come on, before she thinks of something for us to do,” Ron muttered as they headed toward the back door.
Harry was shocked at the transformation of the Weasley’s garden. There were no rusty cauldrons half-full of rainwater littering the garden. The gnome holes had been smoothed out so that the lawn was perfectly straight and even. The air was thick with the smell of roses, honeysuckles and freshly mowed grass. Rows of white chairs draped in gold satin were set up facing an ivy-covered archway. Against the house there were rows of long tables with serving dishes in place for the buffet which would appear once the vows were uttered. A multi-tiered wedding cake stood in the very center. Sugared roses spilled from tier to tier, shining gold with some sort of charm.
They took seats several rows from the front and began to watch the crowd spilling in. Hagrid arrived with Madame Maxime. Thankfully, he had opted against wearing his horrible brown suit. He was wearing deep red dress robes larger than a tent. He smiled and waved enthusiastically at them. Harry, Ron and Hermione waved back but decided that they’d talk to him later since the ceremony would be starting so soon.
Fred and George arrived wearing identical shocking blue dress robes. “Ron, Auntie Muriel is asking for you,” said George.
“She wants her Ickle neffypoo Ronnie to sit with her,” Fred mocked, adopting a shrill voice.
Ron blushed and glanced at Hermione, who thankfully was not laughing. “Why can’t you two sit with her?”
“She asked for you,” George shrugged.
“Always thought she had strange taste in company,” Fred added.
The twins walked away laughing. Ron grudgingly got to his feet. “I guess I’ll see you guys later,” he mumbled crossly.
“Sorry, mate,” Harry said, as Ron trudged away.
“My, there are a lot of people here,” Hermione mused.
“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said quietly. “So, Hermione, what was that up in Ron’s room?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered.
Hermione was attempting to keep her features impassive, though the color creeping up on her face was giving her away. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. Her lips curled into a small smile. “It was nothing,” she said quietly.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” Harry smirked. “What were doing with his hair?”
Hermione’s face was a very deep shade of pink. “Well, maybe it wasn’t nothing,” she admitted. She suddenly became very interested in her fingernails and would not elaborate further.
Harry was still smirking as he scanned the growing crowd for more familiar faces. A few rows behind him were Professor Lupin and Tonks who were smiling, deep in talk. Professor McGonagall and Mad-Eye were sitting not far from them. There were a number of goblins in attendance, whom Harry understood were probably coworkers of Bill and Fleur.
“I think they’re going to start. Look ” whispered Hermione.
A man with dark brown hair and elegant silver robes took his place in front of the archway. After a few moments Bill and Charlie, who Harry realized must be Best Man, joined him. Bill’s face was still just as heavily scarred as it was a few months ago when he was savaged by the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, but his scars were unable to mar the joyous expression that lit up his face. Mr Weasley quickly escorted a very teary eyed Mrs Weasley to their seats in the front row.
Harry had just turned around see if he could catch a glimpse of Ginny before the ceremony started, when he heard a voice beside him. “Hello, Herm-own-ninny, hello, Harry.”
Harry turned around. There were the unmistakable features of Viktor Krum. He hadn’t changed at all since Harry had last seen him. He still had the same hooked nose and rounded shoulders. He did look broader. Quidditch training had helped to tone his physique considerably.
“Viktor! ” Hermione exclaimed.
He held out his hand for Harry to shake. “It’s, er, good to see you,” said Harry.
Krum squeezed through the row of chairs to take Ron’s vacated seat next to Hermione. “Yes, vell, I vos surprised ven Fleur invited me to her vedding. I didn’t speak to her much during the tournament. But I was very pleased to be back in the country again, I enjoyed my last visit very much,” said Krum, staring pointedly at Hermione who was blushing, yet again, and looking very uncomfortable.
Luckily, they were spared the awkwardness of the moment, as the wedding ceremony commenced. A choir, of what Harry recognized to be wood nymphs, was chirping a very sweet little song. Fleur’s sister Gabrielle walked out, her silvery hair flowing behind her. Just as Fleur had decided when she was planning the wedding in the Weasleys’ kitchen a year ago, Gabrielle was wearing robes of pale gold. In her hand she was clutching a small bunch of white roses. She smiled broadly at Harry as she floated past and took her place at the front.
Knowing who was coming next, Harry sat up as straight as he possibly could. Finally he caught a glimpse of Ginny. Her mane of shining red hair was set off perfectly with the gold of her robes. She caught Harry’s eye as she passed and gave him a weak smile. Harry felt his chest constrict. He was so busy watching her that he didn’t even notice that everyone was getting to their feet for Fleur’s arrival until Hermione nudged him in the ribs.
Fleur made a beautiful bride, that was certain. Her hair was set in shimmering curls, pulled back with a gold tiara. Her pearl-white gown was made of silk and it flowed delicately behind her as she approached the archway. Her face was radiant and the many of the male guests were particularly mesmerized by her.
The man with the brown hair was officiating the wedding. He spoke in such monotone that Harry felt as if he were back in Professor Binns’ class. Within seconds his mind was drifting. He watched Ginny shift impatiently back and forth, her hair glittering from the light of the setting sun. He shook himself mentally. I had to end it. What if she got hurt? What if she died? I’ve already lead her into danger too many times. Harry forced himself to look away from her. He tried to concentrate on the ceremony, but then Fleur began to read a very long poem in French and Harry’s mind slipped away again.
Before he knew it Bill was taking Fleur into his arms and kissing her. Everybody cheered, someone set off fireworks ( Harry had a shrewd idea of who), and he could hear Mrs. Weasley’s joyful sobs. Harry, Hermione and Krum politely applauded along with the rest of the guests. Harry heard a great honking sound and turned to see Hagrid crying into his spotted handkerchief. Bill and Fleur walked down the aisle to the sound of camera flashbulbs popping and applause. Mr and Mrs Delacour and Mr and Mrs Weasley were quick to follow. Harry watched as the guests filed out of their seats and crowded the happy couple.
Ron appeared at Harry’s side. “Oi, I ditched my Aunt Muriel, so we can...” Ron broke off as his eyes fell onto Viktor Krum. Before anyone could say anything, Ron turned and walked quickly toward the house.
“Oh, Ron,” Hermione whispered.
“Vot is vong vith your friend?” asked Krum with his signature scowl.
“You know, his brother just got married. He probably went to go help his mum. I’ll go see if I can do anything. You know, speed up the process,” Harry said, getting to his feet and hurrying off in the same direction as Ron. He squeezed his way through the crowd and in through the kitchen door. Ron was sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with his head in his hands. Ginny was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. She turned as Harry walked in.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Harry said, turning to go back through the door.
“No, Harry, you can help me with this,” she said, catching hold of Harry’s arm and causing his heart to jump into his throat. “Tell him that he’s being a prat.”
“I’m not a prat,” snarled Ron, lifting his head, his ears a dangerous shade of red. “If Hermione wants to snog Krum, that’s fine. I’m fine with it.”
“You are a prat,” Ginny argued, circling the table and sitting down beside her brother. “She fancies you.”
Ron shook his head. “Why would she fancy me? I’m not a famous Quidditch player. I’m not good at anything.”
Harry felt a stab of annoyance. “Look, mate. I’m sick of this. Everyone knows how much you two want to be together. We’ve been watching this madness for three years now. An hour ago up in your room she was stroking your hair. What more proof do you need? Stop being so afraid of telling her how you feel.”
“Are you calling me a coward?” Ron scowled.
“Yeah I am,” said Harry.
Ron got to his feet. “Bit rich coming from you, Harry.”
“What do you mean?” Harry demanded, feeling his temper rising.
“I mean you with Ginny. You asked about her at least twice a day the entire time we were at your uncle’s house,” Ron said. “What did you break up with her for if you still fancy her.”
Harry glanced at Ginny who had turned red, then looked away. “It’s completely different,” mumbled Harry.
“It’s not,” said Ron, shaking his head. “You think you’re protecting Ginny, but you aren’t. We’re all in danger. If You-Know-Who wants to attack Ginny, he’s going to do it whether you two are together or not. What do you have to lose?”
“Her,” Harry growled. “I can’t be responsible for her dying. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense,” Ginny shouted. “Ron’s right, we’re all in danger. Voldemort isn’t going to go easy on me just because we’ve broken up. Besides haven’t I shown you that I can take care of myself? I even fared better than Ron did at the Ministry a year ago.”
Harry’s head was spinning. He wanted her to be safe, but he couldn’t deny that he was miserable without her. Finally he allowed his eyes to meet hers. “You’re right,” Harry grinned. “Maybe I’ve been relying on the wrong Weasley all these years.”
“Hey ” Ron shouted.
Ginny giggled and went around the table to Harry’s side. “I miss you, Harry.”
Harry took a deep breath. “I miss you, too,” he admitted.
“Listen Harry,” said Ron. “I’ll admit I’m being a prat. If you’ll admit that you’ve been one as well.”
Harry looked at Ginny. “I guess I have been a prat.”
Ginny smiled and threw her arms around Harry. He beamed down at her.
“Hold on,” said Ron, walking around the table and toward the back door. “Before you start snogging, let me leave the room. I have to go talk to Hermione.”
Ginny gave Harry a curious look as Ron left the room. “Did she really stroke his hair?”
Harry laughed, “Yeah, she did.”
Ginny abruptly released him and made to follow Ron out the door.
“Where are you going?” Harry asked, holding her back.
She grinned mischievously and pulled him by the arm. “I’m going to watch. Come on.”
Ron already had a bit of a head start on Harry and Ginny. He was halfway to Hermione and Krum when they caught up.
“What are you going to say Ron?” Ginny asked.
“I don’t know,” Ron muttered.
“You don’t even have an idea?” she prodded.
Ron stopped and Harry nearly ran into him. “Ginny, you’re wrecking my concentration. I thought you and Harry were making up,” he bellowed.
Ginny blushed. “We are, but we’re just here to make sure you don’t chicken out.”
Ron looked like he was going to say something to her but changed his mind and instead resumed walking toward Hermione. He stopped again a short distance from where she and Krum were sitting. He froze for a moment taking in the scene. Hermione wasn’t smiling, she kept looking over Krum’s shoulder at the crowd milling around the food table. Harry and Ginny were sure that Ron had lost his nerve. Ginny was already trying to figure out which hex to use to revive his courage. Slowly, Ron took a steadying breath and approached Hermione and Krum.
“Hermione,” Ron called out, his voice cracking awkwardly.
Hermione turned. At first she looked quite relieved at the arrival of her friends but upon seeing the strange look on Ron’s face, she wrinkled her forehead in anxiety and rushed toward him. “Ron, what’s wrong?”
Ron worked hard to unstick the Quaffle-sized lump he felt in his throat.
Hermione turned abruptly to Harry, “Is everything alright?”she demanded, her eyes wide with fear.
“Everything’s fine,” Harry said to Hermione, then added in an undertone to Ron “Get it together, mate.”
“Could I have a quick word with you?” Ron managed to get out. His face had bypassed red and gone straight to a violent shade of purple.
Hermione nodded and made to go with Ron, but Krum held her back. “Vait, ve ver in the middle of something.”
“This is important, Hermione,” Ron urged, his voice betraying a bit of his desperation.
Hermione rounded on Harry, “I thought you said...”
“Everything is fine, Hermione. It’s just, there’s something I need to, er, talk to you about.” Ron forced the words out, trying desperately to regain his composure.
“Vell vot I haff to say is important too,” growled Krum, eyeing Ron suspiciously. “I haff just asked Herm-own-ninny to marry me,”
“What?” Ron yelped.
Ginny clutched her hands over her mouth, momentarily speechless. Harry’s jaw dropped.
“B-but you’re too young to be getting married,” Harry stammered.
“I haff vaited for nearly three years,” Krum explained. “If she vill marry me she can finish her education at Durmstrang, if she vishes. Now that Karkaroff is gone I am thinking they vill not care so much that she is not pureblood. I vill give her a good life. She vill never vant a thing.”
“But you live in Bulgaria,” Harry blurted out, grasping at anything to make this idea sound as ludicrous as it seemed. “That’s, er, so far away.”
“You all vill be velcome at our home alvays,” Krum said firmly.
Ron looked too shocked to speak. His face had quickly gone from purple to the color of cold oatmeal. His eyes were locked on Hermione’s anxiety-stricken face. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
“And what did you say, Hermione?” Ron finally asked, in a nearly inaudible mumble.
“Ve ver interrupted, so she has not said a thing yet. I am vaiting for your answer, Herm-own-ninny,” Krum replied, trying to draw her attention back to him.
Hermione took her eyes off Ron’s dejected face and gave Harry and Ginny a pleading look, before facing Krum.
“Do something,” Harry whispered to Ron.
“What’s the point?” Ron mumbled.
“The point?” Ginny hissed. “You love her, and she loves you. Are you prepared to give that up? Why don’t you stop being a coward and fight for her?”
Ron looked puzzled for a moment then drew his wand. Harry and Ginny groaned in exasperation. “No, mate,” Harry said. “Just tell her.”
Ron hastily stowed his wand back in his robes, swallowed hard and made his second approach.
“...I promise. I vill even quit Quidditch if you vish it,” Krum cooed, attempting to persuade Hermione. He stroked her jaw line with his finger.“You vill love Bulgaria.”
“Hermione,” Ron said. “I need to talk to you now.”
Krum’s face darkened. “Ve are discussing something important. I thought as her friend, you’d vant her to be happy.”
“Viktor,” Hermione snapped, annoyance appearing in her voice. “Don’t talk to him like that.”
“Fine,” snarled Krum, crossing his arms and looking quite menacing. “Vot is it that you haff to say that is so important.”
Ron’s face became paler, if that was possible. It was obvious that he hadn’t expected to share his deepest feelings in front of his little sister, his best mate and the rival for Hermione’s affections. “I meant a private word,” Ron said quietly.
“No,” Krum said bitingly. “I vant to hear vot news is more important than mine.”
Harry felt Ginny stirring beside him and he grabbed her arm just before she could plunge it into her robes for her wand. He looked into her eyes and saw a fire there that could only mean trouble for Krum if this continued.
“Er, can’t you just give him a minute?” Harry urged, trying to diffuse the situation which appeared to be growing more hostile by the minute. “It won’t take long.”
“No,” Ron muttered, glancing quickly at Harry. “It’s fine.”
Ron started to get some of his color back. He struggled to take even breaths and to steady his shaking hands. He faced Hermione, making sure to keep his eyes locked with hers as if to block out the others.
“What is it Ron?” Hermione asked, still looking unsure about what was going on.
“I-I’m a lousy Quidditch player,” he stammered.
Hermione wrinkled her forehead and opened her mouth to answer but Ron continued. “I’ll never be as clever as you. The library bores me. I eat like a pig and I nearly always say the wrong thing.”
Ron paused to take another deep breath. “I know I’ll never be famous for anything. The only thing I’m good at is chess,” he continued.
“That’s not true,” Hermione insisted.
Krum snorted derisively. “This is vot vas so important?”
Ron’s ears turned red and he looked down, beginning to lose his nerve again. Hermione put her hand on the crook of Ron’s elbow. “Is, is that all, Ron?”she asked, leaning forward to try to catch his eye again. Her touch seemed to awaken him and he fixed his eyes on her face once more.
“I, I mean, Hermione,” Ron stuttered, struggling for words. He swallowed again. “I, er, l-love you.”
“Vot?” Krum exclaimed, drawing his wand from his robes. Harry and Ginny followed suit, but Ron and Hermione noticed nothing.
“What?” Hermione breathed, her eyes again widened in shock.
“I love you, Hermione,” Ron said, his voice only slightly steadier. “Don’t marry Krum, please. I couldn’t stand it if you did.”
“It is not your decision,” Krum said, stepping forward and pointing his wand at Ron. Ron came out of his reverie, shocked to see wands drawn all around and pulled out his as well. “The way Herm-own-ninny alvays spoke about you I knew that you had feelings for her, but you’re going to haff to get used to the idea that she’s going to be my vife.”
Ron scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short with a look from Hermione. Tenderly, she grabbed Ron’s wrist and gently pointed the tip of his wand downward.
“Viktor,” Hermione said. “I do care for you.” Ron bowed his head and would have fled had Hermione not still had hold of his wrist.
“Then, you vill come back to Bulgaria vith me,” Krum exclaimed, his face brightening.
“Er, no.” Hermione continued. Ron’s head snapped up eagerly. “Harry’s right, we’re both too young to be married. I don’t want to move to Bulgaria or attend Durmstrang. You’re very nice, Viktor, but I can’t be your wife.”
She paused again. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she carefully added, “Besides, my heart already belongs to... someone else.”
Ron looked at Hermione, a hopeful expression blossoming on his face.
“I see,” Krum glowered. “Then he is the vun you vant.”
Hermione nodded. “I’m sorry Viktor.”
Krum glared at Ron for a few more seconds, his jaw clenched and his wand hand twitching slightly. Finally, he lowered his arm and looked at Hermione. “Vell, if he is the vun, I vill not stand in your vay. I vill go now.”
“You don’t have to leave, Viktor,” Hermione said. “Stay for the rest of the reception.”
Krum looked down. “No, I must admit that I came only to see you. But I haff my answer, and so I must go.”
Hermione walked up to Krum and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered. Krum nodded stoically.
“You vill take good care of her,” Viktor said, holding out his hand to Ron to shake.
“Always,” Ron replied, struggling to keep his bliss from showing on his face.
Krum shook Harry's hand and with a parting look at Hermione, he disapparated.Ron and Hermione stood looking awkwardly at each other, not sure of that to say next.
Harry whispered to Ginny, “Come on, let’s go.”
Ginny shook her head and grinned, “I want to see what happens.”
Harry frowned and finally got Ginny to retreat far enough to give them some privacy, but close enough for her to make out what was going on.
“I wouldn’t have married him, you know,” Hermione finally said. Ron gave her a puzzled look. “I mean, if you hadn’t said what you just said. I still would have said no.”
“Really?” Ron gasped, still looking a bit confused.
Hermione laughed. “Of course. I love you, Ron.”
Ron’s ears turned crimson and he grinned sheepishly. “I love you, too, Hermione.”
Hermione timidly placed her hands on Ron’s shoulders and slid her arms around his neck. Ron smiled down at her, stroking her hair and simply enjoying the sensation in every part of his body that was pressing against her. He brushed the hair off her face as he gazed into her deep brown eyes. He cupped her face with one of his hands, marveling in the smoothness of her skin, the soft curves of her face. His heart was hammering away inside his chest so hard that he could almost hear it inside his head. Without a second thought he lowered his face and pressed his mouth against hers. She sighed softly and kissed him back, running her hand through his thick ginger hair.
“Come on,” Ginny beamed at Harry. “Now we can go.”
Ginny placed her hand in his and began to lead him away. She stopped abruptly near the garden fence.
“Look, Harry,” Ginny said. “I don’t want to force you into anything. I care about you a lot, but if you don’t think we should be together, then I’ll understand.”
“But you’ll still think I’m being a prat?” Harry wondered.
Ginny smiled. “I didn’t say that.”
Harry looked down at her hand still clutched within his own. He closed his eyes and wrinkled his forehead. “I have lost...everyone that I really care about. If I lost you too...” he broke off, every word seeming to cause him pain.
Ginny put her hand on his cheek causing him to open his eyes again. “You saved me once Harry, but I’m not that little eleven year old girl anymore. I’ll be fine,” she said.
Harry pulled Ginny into his arms and kissed her. His mind went blissfully blank, oblivious to the world, to time, to everything except her soft lips and gentle caresses.
“Ginny, Hermione ” called out Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ginny took a step apart, blushing slightly as Mrs Weasley approached them. Ron and Hermione made their way over. Ron was still holding her around her waist, determined not to let her go.
“What are you lot doing over here?” Mrs. Weasley asked, eying them suspiciously. The four of them tried to stammer out an explanation, but she waved her hand to quiet them. Try as she might to look stern the corners of her mouth were twitching and her eyes were sparkling with tears once more. “Fleur is about to throw the bouquet, girls. I daresay you both will want a shot at it.”
Hermione and Ginny both turned pink. Ron looked nervous, but Harry just laughed.
As Mrs. Weasley led the girls back to the party, Harry grinned at Ron. “Don’t worry mate, Hermione just said she was too young to get married.”
Ron smirked back, clapping Harry on the back. “Oh, I’m not worried. Hermione couldn’t catch a Quaffle, let alone a bouquet. It’s you who should be worried. Ginny’s a superb chaser.”
Harry laughed and he and Ron happily made their way back to the party.
A/n: It all belongs to Madam Rowling, I've just borrowed the characters to make them do my bidding.