The Wedding of the Year
“Miss Granger, time to wake up.”
It was eight o’ clock in the morning of February 12; a month after the engagement party. Hermione had spent the night in the Sandford Manor. Elizabeth Sandford’s complicated plan was the following: Hermione and Michael would spend the night before the wedding apart: Hermione in Bedford, and Michael in Hogsmeade. Then, the day of the wedding “which was today“ Hermione would leave with Mr. and Mrs. Sandford, and John, Beth, and their kids to London, their arrival scheduled for noon.
The door to the guestroom (appropriately named “The Guest’s Suite”) opened slowly, letting Mary, the housekeeper, in. She opened the golden curtains and the room filled with sunlight. It was a beautiful room, with high ceilings that had ornate decorations, and marble floors that shined intensely. The room had an enormous fireplace and a beautiful antique bed that made Hermione feel like royalty.
“Miss Granger,” said Mary, “Mrs. Sandford sent me to wake you up.”
“Tell her I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes,” said Hermione, sitting up sleepily.
“Alright, miss,” replied Mary.
“Thanks, Mary.”
“It’s my pleasure,” replied the housekeeper, going out of the room and closing the door behind her.
Hermione got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom.
After taking a quick shower, she put on a pale pink wrap-around dress with a white tweed jacket and shoes to match and went downstairs. She looked soft and delicate, her hair sleek and smooth, yet wavy.
Hermione found the Sandfords having breakfast in the North Dining Room. Yes, because there were four dining rooms: the North Dining Room, used for lunch and special occasions; the South Dining Room, which sided as a ballroom and was only used for Mrs. Sandford’s extravagant parties; the East Dining Room, used for breakfast; and the West Dining Room, used for dinner.
The fact that they were having breakfast in the North Dining Room meant that “Lizzie” was in a good mood today.
“Good morning!” said Beth brightly as Hermione entered the room.
“Hello,” said Hermione.
“You look lovely,” said John, who was feeding Charlotte her bottle.
“Thanks,” said Hermione, smiling. Then she turned to face Spencer, Andrew and Marcus, who were sitting next to one of their nannies. “Now, how are my favourite future-nephews? You’re up early!”
Spencer and Marcus giggled. Andrew, being a one-year-old, was obviously too busy drinking his milk on Mummy’s lap.
Hermione sat down next to Mrs. Sandford, who barely acknowledged her.
“Nervous, Hermione?” asked Mr. Sandford.
“Not quite yet,” she admitted.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Sandford, who had finished her breakfast, asked, “Is everyone ready to go?”
“Mum,” said Beth, “Hermione has to eat first.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” said Hermione, finishing up a muffin, “I can’t eat much. I think I’m done.”
“Oh,” said Beth, taken aback. “Well, I guess we’re all ready, then.”
“Good,” said Mrs. Sandford. “I’ll have Mary to get the cars ready. I’ll see you in the foyer in five minutes.” She got up and left.
“Emily,” said Beth, calling the nanny, “would you and Christine get the prams?”
“Of course,” said Emily, getting up and practically running to get the prams.
“How is she?” asked Hermione, referring to Charlotte.
“She’s perfectly fine,” said Beth, with a smile. “She is such a good girl…”
“She looks gorgeous!” said Hermione, eyeing with delight the baby’s beautiful little pink dress.
“Well, she had to look her best for such an event!” exclaimed Beth.
“No surprises today?” Hermione was still a little bit angry at Mrs. Sandford for adding so many guests to the list.
“Hermione, I swear I didn’t know she did that behind your back!” said Beth.
“I know…” said Hermione. She knew it had not been Beth’s fault. But she simply couldn’t help herself.
“We better get going,” said Mr. Sandford. He knew better than to keep his dear Lizzie waiting.
As the group arrived to the foyer, Mrs. Sandford passed out some envelopes.
“These are your schedules for the day,” she said. “We are expected to arrive at the Ritz by noon. I already took precautions regarding the arrival. I expect there is going to be a lot of people waiting for your arrival, Hermione. I don’t want you to be as surprised to see them as you were on the night of the engagement party… Beth, you and John are going with Charlotte and Hermione in your car, I assume; Spencer, Marcus and Andrew are going with the nannies in the company car, I believe Hugo will be driving; and your father and I are taking the Jag.”
“Let’s go,” said John, pushing the boys’ triple pram through the front door.
“Alright,” said Mrs. Sandford, absentmindedly, gathering her things.
“The boys are coming with us, Mum,” said Beth, who had Charlotte in her arms. “There’s enough space… The car can seat seven passengers.”
“I want to go with Charlotte!” exclaimed Spencer.
“Fine,” said Mrs. Sandford. “Do whatever you want.”
“Emily, Christine,” said Beth, “go in the other car. We’ll take care of the kids this time.”
The girls nodded.
“Well, now that that’s settled,” said Mrs. Sandford, “let’s go.”
Hermione found John and Beth’s car was quite comfortable. It had three rows of seats: John was driving, Hermione sat with Beth, Charlotte and Spencer (who was in her lap) on the back seat and on the last row of seats, Spencer and Marcus were sleeping.
As they were nearing London’s West End, Hermione started spotting the crowds. It was a cold gloomy day, with grey skies overhead and drizzle falling once in a while. There were a lot of people lined up on the streets, many of them with umbrellas and cameras, and they were snapping shots of the cars as they went by.
“I think these people want to see you, Hermione,” said John, smiling.
“Gosh, I hadn’t seen something like this since Princess Diana got married!” said Beth.
“You’re exaggerating,” said Hermione disbelievingly.
“Maybe just a bit,” said Beth, “but John knows I’m a teeny bit right.”
“It’s true,” said John. “People don’t go out to the street just for anyone.”
“Honestly?” asked Hermione, feeling flattered. “How did they find out, anyway?”
“Someone probably leaked information,” said John dismissively. “Why don’t you lower your window and wave?”
“You are joking, right?” asked Hermione.
“Of course I’m not,” said John, his expression deadpan.
“I’m not a celebrity, John,” Hermione retorted.
“Hermione,” said Beth patiently, “you are marrying one of the richest, most eligible men in England. These people are standing in the cold just to see you. The least you could do would be to lower that window and wave.”
“Do I have to?” asked Hermione in a childish voice.
“You don’t have to do it,” said Beth, “but it would be nice if they could at least see you.”
“I know,” said Hermione. “It just feels… weird.”
“You’re a celebrity,” said John, grinning. “Face it. Embrace it.”
“John! It’s not funny!” exclaimed Hermione.
“He’s just teasing you,” said Beth, grinning as well. “But you can’t deny it: you are famous.”
Hermione looked out the window. It seemed amazing how different her life was now. Somehow, she felt she wasn’t living her life anymore. She was trying to keep up with an image; the image the tabloids portrayed of her.
Hermione reached for the button on the door and lowered the window. The cold air hit her face suddenly, as did the hundreds of flashes aimed at her.
Andrew, who was sitting on Hermione’s lap, started waving his hands expertly, with a smile spread across his face. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re much better at being famous than me, aren’t you?” she told him.
The one year old giggled.
Shortly after that, John pulled up in front of the hotel. Hotel staff members hurried to open the car’s doors and take the luggage out of the boot. Hermione got out of the car carrying Andrew on her hip, followed by Spencer and Marcus, who were clinging to her coat. She met the same frenzy that made her engagement party entrance a memorable one, only that this time there were even more cameras. Beth was carrying Charlotte, and as soon as she got out of the car she hurried into the hotel in an attempt to keep the baby as warm as possible.
As she turned around to say “hi” to the cameras, Hermione saw as Mrs. Sandford, wrapped in a warm-looking (not to mention extremely expensive) fur coat, got out of her car and walked up the stairs with Mr. Sandford, trying as hard as she could to give an actual smile to the press.
John hurried over to Hermione’s side pushing the boys’ triple pram, followed by Caroline and Emily.
“Hop in, guys,” he told Spencer and Marcus.
“I wonder how everybody found out the wedding was here today,” Hermione told John.
John gave her a wary look that had “Elizabeth Sandford” written all over it.
“Seriously, did this happen when you and Beth got married?” Hermione asked John, as he took Andrew from her arms.
“Beth wasn’t ‘Bachelorette of the Year,’ Hermione,” John said, as he sat Andrew between Spencer and Marcus. “Okay, all set.”
“Let’s go in,” said Hermione.
Once inside the hotel, Hermione felt overwhelmed by the posh entrance hall of the hotel, as she always did. It was so beautiful, so luxurious… Golden crown-moulding in the ceiling, polished bronze wall fittings, gleaming marble floors, extravagant furniture… The enormous chandelier in the centre made the hall look majestic. The place was fit for royalty.
Hermione spotted her future parents-in-law and Beth talking to a tall brunette with a headset by the front desk.
“Hello, Miss Granger,” said the pleasant brunette as Hermione, John, the nannies, and the boys approached the group. “I’m Sophie Rocher. Robyn couldn’t make it today, so I’ll take care of anything you need during the day.”
“Hello,” replied Hermione. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Ms. Rocher. “Well, now that you’re all here, let me get you settled.”
Ms. Rocher led the group to the lifts, and when they got off the lift on the 6th floor, she said something into the headset, walked to the centre of the corridor and turned to face the group with a smile spread across her face.
“Alright,” she said, clearing her throat, “Mr. and Mrs. Sandford: you will have the Yellow Suite, right over here to your left; Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster: you will have the Blue Suite, right opposite Mr. and Mrs. Sandford. The provisional beauty salon was set up in the Trafalgar Suite. You, Miss Granger, will be staying upstairs.”
Ms. Rocher gave Hermione a small, sweet smile as she handed out the room keys.
“Very well, then,” said Mrs. Sandford. “I will meet you girls in the Trafalgar Suite in ten minutes.”
“Alright. Come along, darlings,” Beth told her “troop,” leading the way to her room.
“If you could follow me, Miss Granger,” said Ms. Rocher, who was now standing inside the lift.
When Hermione got in, Ms. Rocher closed the lift’s doors and slid a white key-card into the lift’s control-board and pressed the button for PH.
When the doors opened, Hermione’s heart stopped.
That room had to be the biggest, brightest, most beautiful, expensive- looking room she had ever seen. There were white roses everywhere. The room was exquisite, decorated in Louis XVI style. It overlooked Green Park, and on the distance she could see Buckingham Palace...
“Miss Granger,” said Ms. Rocher, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts, “welcome to the Prince of Wales Suite. I hope you find everything to your liking.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the comment.
“I have no problems with this,” she said.
“Great,” said Ms. Rocher. “Let me give you a quick tour. Over here you have the dining room, which sits up to ten guests, and through that door is the butler’s kitchen.”
“Oh, gosh,” said Hermione. “This is beautiful.”
“Yes it is, Miss, but you have not seen anything yet. Right through here,” Ms. Rocher continued, “you have the drawing room, and behind that door is the cloakroom. Oh, and those double doors over there are the two bedrooms.”
“Perfect,” said Hermione.
“If you find any problems please do not hesitate to call me,” said Ms. Rocher.
“I think I will be fine,” said Hermione.
“Well, I better leave you. If anyone wants to come up they just have to dial 700 in the lift. I already told Mrs. Lancaster.”
“Thank you very much.”
As soon as Ms. Rocher left the room, Hermione ventured into her room. She found her Louis Vuitton luggage (which Michael had insisted on buying her) piled up at one side of the room, next to the desk, and her wedding gown lying delicately on the bed.
Hermione quickly remembered her last fitting at Harvey Nichols. It had been a nightmare. She went with Mrs. Sandford, who had been brooding with her arms crossed in a corner of the fitting room. Part of her anger came from the fact that Hermione’s figure kept expanding, namely her stomach, and getting her into the wedding dress was becoming more and more difficult as time went by. But by now, Hermione had learned how to block anything negative her mother-in-law said and had mastered the art of converting all the negative energy Elizabeth Sandford had been sending out into the world into something positive and constructive.
“Hermione!” she heard Beth’s voice calling from the entrance. “This is amazing!”
“I know!” said Hermione, coming out of her room to meet her. “It’s unbelievable!”
“You have a bloody penthouse!”
Hermione laughed.
“Those fireplaces… I’m taking pictures of this!” said Beth, still trying to take in what she was looking at. “But anyway, the reason I came up here is to tell you that Mum is waiting for us in the Trafalgar Suite.”
“Right, of course,” said Hermione. “Let’s go.”
To say Hermione was surprised when she entered the suite is a bit of an understatement. Three hairstylists, one manicurist, and two makeup artists were waiting for her. The room was fully equipped and divided in stations; to her it felt like being backstage in a fashion show.
“Hermione,” said Mrs. Sandford, “I assume you remember Derek. He“”
“Of course I remember him!” said Hermione excitedly, giving Derek a peck on the cheek. “You did my hair for the company’s benefit gala last November! How are you?”
“I’m great, darling!” exclaimed the hairstylist. “You look delicious!”
“Anyway,” continued Mrs. Sandford, “he will be in charge of your hair today. Beth, darling, you’re with Mya.”
It took Hermione, Beth, and Mrs. Sandford three hours to get their hair, nails, and makeup ready. Now Hermione was pacing in her sitting room with Beth, who was already dressed in a forget-me-not blue Givenchy dress, drinking tea.
“How do you feel?” asked Beth.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Hermione.
“Calm down! Everything will run smoothly, I promise,” said Beth.
“My feet hurt,” said Hermione.
“Well sit down, then! You’re going to ruin your makeup!” said Beth. “And if you go on pacing like that you won’t have any feet left.”
“I’m so nervous,” continued Hermione.
“Don’t be! Try to think about something else,” said Beth.
“Beth,” said Hermione, “how on earth do you expect me to think about something else?”
Just then, the doors to the lifts opened.
“People are starting to arrive,” said Mrs. Sandford, dressed in an ivory Chanel suit. “Hermione! Not dressed yet? We’re going to be late!”
“Let’s get that dress on, Hermione!” exclaimed Beth.
The three of them walked into Hermione’s room, where Hermione walked into the bathroom to get her wedding gown on.
“Beth…” said Hermione, as she walked out into the room.
“Oh God, don’t tell me…”
“It won’t close,” said Hermione, grimacing.
“I knew it,” said Mrs. Sandford. “This is perfect, Hermione. Just perfect.”
“Don’t panic. Don’t panic,” said Beth slowly, rummaging in her oversized handbag. “I have the answers to our problems right here.”
“A corset? Will it work?” asked Hermione.
“Well, I certainly hope so,” said Mrs. Sandford, “or Hermione will ruin this day“”
“Oh Mother, just shut up,” said Beth. “You’re ruining this for Hermione and me. I hope you remember it takes two to make a baby. This is Michael’s fault too. And why are we playing the blame game here? This baby is a blessing. I trust you know that.”
Mrs. Sandford remained quiet.
“Come on, Hermione. Let’s get this corset on,” said Beth.
“I’ll go to check on Michael,” said Mrs. Sandford, going out of the room.
“Thanks, Beth,” said Hermione as soon as her mother-in-law was out of the room.
“Don’t mention it,” said Beth.
The two remained quiet as Beth adjusted the corset. When Beth zipped the dress up, she and Hermione gasped.
“Oh my…” breathed Beth. “You look absolutely… The dress looks…”
“It does, doesn’t it?” said Hermione, grabbing a tissue.“Hermione… It just… I feel so… so… proud…” said Beth.
“Why?” asked Hermione.
“I’m so happy you are my sister!” exclaimed Beth, grabbing a tissue as well.
Hermione and Beth stared at their crying selves in the mirror for a couple of minutes.
“We look like… like…”
“Like idiots,” finished Beth.
They both laughed.
“Oh dear, look at the time!” exclaimed Beth. “I must make sure the kids are ready.”
“Go! I’ll be fine,” said Hermione.
“Alright,” said Beth. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” said Hermione. “But now that you mention it, would you make sure that my flower girl and my ring bearer come up here with their parents when they arrive?”
“Of course! But how will I know who they are?” asked Beth.
“As soon as you see red hair, trust me, you will know,” said Hermione, laughing.
“Okay,” said Beth, walking into the lift.
Hermione walked back into her bedroom to take another look at herself in front of the mirror. Honestly, she would have never recognized herself. Her hair was tied in a beautiful knot at the back of her head and she was wearing more than ₤500,000 in jewellery. She looked… ideal.
As she evaluated herself she heard the lift’s doors open and a male voice call “Hello?”
Bill, she instantly thought. She hurried excitedly out into the sitting room, where she realized she could not have been more wrong.
It wasn’t Bill. It wasn’t Charlie. It was Ron.
Hermione stood there in the sitting room for a minute or so, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do.
“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked breathlessly, the blood draining from her face.
“I’m sorry to burst in on you like this,” said Ron nervously. “Um, you… I mean Michael’s… Beth let me come up.”
“It’s… It’s been a long time,” said Hermione, still shocked.
“I know,” said Ron, quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Ron… I… I’m getting married in thirty minutes,” said Hermione, not really knowing why she said that.
“Please, Hermione. Don’t,” pleaded Ron, knowing deep down that his pleas would be useless.
“‘Don’t’ what?” asked Hermione, not liking the direction in which the conversation was heading.
“Don’t do it,” said Ron, a pained expression overcoming him.
“What?” asked Hermione, not believing her ears.
“Don’t marry him,” said Ron.
“You… You can’t be serious! Who do you think you are?” asked Hermione, getting angry. “You… You can’t tell me what to do! It’s just… I mean…”
“Can we talk?” asked Ron.
“You lost that chance a long time ago, Ron,” said Hermione sadly.
“I know I haven’t been perfect, Hermione,” said Ron. “I know that“”
“That is the understatement of the year, Ronald! You broke my heart, remember? Remember how you… smashed it in a million little pieces and then you left because you didn’t know how to clean up? And now you think that because you’re back… I… I just…” Hermione seemed at a loss for words.
“I can’t drop everything and go back to you like nothing happened, Ron,” she said, her voice beginning to tremble. “I’m… I’m not the same person anymore. I have been through so much... I’ve had to pick up the pieces of my life and start over again. Without you.”
“I won’t let you do it,” said Ron.
“Ron…” said Hermione, tears starting to slide down her cheeks. “I’m not about to throw away everything good I have with Michael just because you are beginning to realize your mistakes."
“You can’t seriously think he loves you,” said Ron, looking disgusted.
“He was there for me when you weren’t, Ron!” Hermione burst out, her tears ruining her makeup. “What am I supposed to think?”
“I’m not even asking you to take me back! Just reconsider“”
“Just leave, Ron!” exclaimed Hermione, who was sobbing now. “Leave me alone! It’s just… It’s too late.”
“Hermione…”
“Please, Ron,” whispered Hermione, clutching her heart. “Just… go. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Ron, without saying another word, pressed the button to the lift and turned to face Hermione.
“I… I really hope you’re happy, Hermione. I really hope you’re doing the right thing.”
The doors to the lift opened, Ron walked in, and without looking at Hermione, he closed the doors.
Hermione let out a painful scream and collapsed on the floor. She felt breathless. She wanted to run; she wanted to tell Ron that it wasn’t too late, that she loved him and that she would have to be crazy to let him go. But she knew she wouldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to Michael, to Beth, not even to Mrs. Sandford. She had to carry out her part of the deal. She had given Michael that “yes” on Christmas morning and now that she was pregnant, she couldn’t walk away just like that. Not after what Ron had done two years ago. Not after he left.
While Hermione kept sobbing, the doors to the lift opened once more and this time Angelina, Angie, Fleur, and Philip walked out.
“Hermione!” exclaimed Angelina. “What happened?”
“He came over here, Angelina,” said Hermione, sobbing.
“Who? Michael?” asked Angelina, confused.
Hermione shook her head.
“Ron…” said Fleur breathlessly.
Hermione cried even harder.
“Oh no…” said Angelina. “Let’s get her up, Fleur. Angie, Philip, everything’s fine. Just… sit over there.”
Angelina and Fleur picked Hermione up and dragged her to bed. Hermione calmed down a bit.
“I’m so sorry,” she said through sobs. “I must look dreadful…”
“Hermione, what happened?” asked Angelina.
“He just… Ron… He came up here to tell me not to get married.”
“How could he? I swear, Ron has the most inappropriate timing in the universe,” said Angelina.
“He must have been desperate,” said Fleur.
“Let’s just clean you up before you stain your dress,” Angelina told Hermione. “Fleur, stay here with her. I’ll see if I can get a Calming Draught. Or possibly something stronger.”
Five minutes later Angelina was back, and you would have never known Hermione had had a breakdown.
“How are you feeling?” asked Fleur.
“I’m fine,” said Hermione. “Perfectly fine.”
“If you repeat that enough times, you might start to believe it,” said Angelina.
“Where are the kids?” asked Hermione.
“They’re in the sitting room,” said Fleur.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” asked Angelina tentatively.
“No,” said Hermione decidedly. “I can’t.”
“Hermione, you were sobbing when we got here,” said Angelina. “It must have meant something to you.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” said Hermione, getting up from the bed and walking over to the sitting room.
“Darlings!” she exclaimed as she saw Philip and Angie, putting on a perfect smile. “You look so charming! Angie, that dress! And Philip, your suit! You both look perfect!”
Angie got up quickly to hug Hermione.
“Hermione… Are you sure“”
“I said I’m fine, Angelina,” said Hermione, planting a kiss on Angie’s head.
“I like your dress, Aunt Hermione,” she said.
“Thank you, sweetie! But I must admit… I don’t look as pretty as you do.”
Angie blushed.
“Hello!” exclaimed Beth as the lift’s doors opened once more.
“Beth!” said Hermione in surprise. “Is everything ready?”
“Everything’s perfect. Don’t worry about a thing,” said Beth.
“You know Angelina and Fleur don’t you?” asked Hermione.
“Yes, we met briefly downstairs,” said Beth excitedly, shaking Angelina and Fleur’s hands. “I think I also sent one of your husbands over here…”
“Oh, that was my brother in law,” said Angelina.
“He just came to say ‘congratulations’,” explained Hermione quickly.
“Oh, what a shame he’s not staying…” said Beth. “Anyway, are these two the ring bearer and the flower girl?”
“Yes,” said Angie brightly. “I’m Angie. He’s Philip.”
“And how old are you?” asked Beth.
“They are both three years old,” said Fleur.
“Just like Marcus!” exclaimed Beth. “He’s my second son.”
“How many do you have?” asked Fleur.
“My eldest son is Spencer, who’s four. Then comes Marcus, then Andrew, of course, who is one, and I just had a girl, Charlotte.”
“Angie is just one part of my set of triplets,” said Angelina. “I have two more boys.”
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Beth. “Are they as energetic as she is?”
“Oh, by no means,” said Angelina, laughing. “Angie has always been the quiet one.”
“Well, Angie, I think you look very pretty,” said Beth, grinning. “And Philip, you look smashing. But we should get going. Angelina, you’ll walk down the aisle with John, my husband, and Fleur, you will walk down the aisle with Ben, who is a very good friend of the family. You will both be in good hands.”
“Alright,” said Angelina.“Hermione, are you all set?” asked Beth.
“Yes,” said Hermione nervously.
“Well, let’s get this show on the road!” said Beth.
Within five minutes they were standing in front of the doors to the Queen Elizabeth Room, where the ceremony would take place. Ms. Rocher was talking furiously into her headset, making sure everything was in order.
“The Royal Phil is ready, Miss Granger,” she told Hermione. “Everything’s set.”
“So“”
“Just say when,” said Ms. Rocher.
Hermione swallowed.
“Ready?” asked Beth.
Hermione nodded, afraid that her voice would fail if she attempted to speak.
“Start the music,” Ms. Rocher said into the headset.
The doors opened slowly, and Angie started heading down the aisle, spreading rose petals along the path. Philip followed her, carrying the rings. Soon after, Angelina, John, Fleur, Ben, and Beth were walking down the aisle.
Now it was Hermione’s turn.
As soon as the fanfare started, the four hundred guests that were waiting for the bride’s arrival stood up in anticipation. As she walked into the room, Hermione felt small. Elizabeth Sandford had done one hell of a job.
Everything was perfect. White flowers everywhere seemed to set the theme of the wedding, which appeared to be ‘simply white,’ as Hermione had once heard her mother-in-law suggest. The altar was simple, yet elegant, decorated by a stunning arrange of white roses. The orchestra was playing by the side in a makeshift stage, surrounded by a forest of white lilies of all shapes and sizes.
Hermione felt all eyes on her as she walked toward Michael, who was standing at the altar with Liam and the representative from the Ministry of Magic that would oversee the ceremony.
Michael smiled fondly at Hermione when she stood besides him.
Soon after that, they were exchanging vows. To Hermione, the ceremony went by in a blur. All that time planning and preparing for a moment that would be forgotten after a few hours by everyone except Michael and her seemed like time wasted. After all, she had always wanted a quiet, intimate ceremony with those closest to her. Right now she couldn’t even see anyone familiar.
“By the power vested in me,” concluded the Ministry’s officer, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Michael, you may kiss your bride.”
And just like that, Michael swept Hermione up and kissed her. At first, it seemed rough, but soon Hermione felt herself giving way to Michael’s unique charm and she found herself wrapping her arms slowly around him.
Everyone cheered as the orchestra started playing the “Bridal March,” and the newlyweds walked down the aisle.
“It was absolutely wonderful,” said Ms. Rocher as she met Michael and Hermione outside the room. “Now we’re going to send everybody to the Marie Antoinette Suite while you get your pictures taken upstairs… Mrs. Sandford, are you alright?”
Hermione was taken aback as she heard Ms. Rocher refer to her as “Mrs. Sandford.”
“Er… I’m fine,” replied Hermione. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem a bit… distraught,” said Ms. Rocher.
“She’s right, sweetheart,” said Michael. “You don’t look so good.”
“Michael, I…” said Hermione, making a strong effort to speak coherently. “It’s fine… I feel…”
But before Hermione could finish the sentence she felt herself drifting backward, Michael screaming for Ben, and strong hands trying to grab hold of her.
“Someone’s knocking on the door.”
“What?”
“Someone’s at the door, Harry.”
“Fine, I’ll get up,” said Harry, not looking up from the papers he was reading. “Do you want anything?”
“Bring me some ice cream when you come back,” said Ginny.
“Ginny, you’ve had eight Chocolate Frogs already,” said Harry. “Not to mention the Licorice Wands and the Cockroach Clusters.”
“Oh, and check if you can get Butterbeer too,” added Ginny, not listening to her husband.
“Do you want treacle fudge with that too?” asked Harry, sarcastically.
“Now that you mention it…”
“Oh, please,” said Harry, getting up. He went downstairs and opened the door to find Ron standing in front of him.
“Great,” said Harry. “Coming to join the party?”
“I’m not in the mood,” said Ron dryly.
“Come on up. But you have to help me carry your sister’s requests upstairs.”
“I’m used to it by now,” said Ron.
Ron and Harry walked upstairs together in silence. Ron threw himself on the bed next to Ginny, opening a Butterbeer bottle and handing his sister, who had been sulking for hours, according to Harry, a pint of Florean Fortescue’s Best Ice Cream. Harry sat by Ginny’s other side, eating Every Flavour Beans out of a tin.
They looked like they were at a funeral.
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Harry.
“No,” replied Ron and Ginny in unison.
“Fine by me,” said Harry. “So, anyway, what have you been up to, Ron?”
“Hermione… Wake up…”
Hermione opened her eyes slowly to find herself looking up at a very worried Beth. She was lying on a bed in her wedding gown, which was unzipped at the back.
“What’s going on?” asked Hermione softly. “Where am I?”
“You fainted,” said Beth. “Are you feeling alright?”
Hermione nodded.
“Ben said you were just dehydrated,” said Beth. “Drink this.”
“What is this?” Hermione asked.
“A replenishing potion.”
“It’s disgusting,” said Hermione after drinking it.
“It’s for your own good,” retorted Beth.
“Where’s Michael?” asked Hermione.
“He’s outside,” said Beth. “Do you want to see him?”
“Yes,” said Hermione softly.
Beth stood up and exited the room. Shortly after Michael came into the room.
“Hermione,” he asked worriedly, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, Michael. I really am.”
“When was the last time you ate?” Michael inquired. “Mum said you barely had breakfast, for God’s sake!”
“I… I’m sorry,” said Hermione.
“Hermione, you have to take care of yourself. I’m starting to think that we shouldn’t go on the honeymoon after all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Hermione. “I’m fine. Speaking of which, how’s your mother?”
“She’s outside…” said Michael tentatively.
“She’s complaining about me, isn’t she?” asked Hermione.
“Don’t mind what she’s saying,” said Michael. “It’s all nonsense.”
“Is the party in full swing downstairs?” asked Hermione.
Michael laughed.
“Why? Do you want to party?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Hermione teased.
“Do you? Do you want to go downstairs?”
“I just don’t feel like being up here all night.” Hermione feared that if she stayed in her room thinking she might breakdown again.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Michael. “Let’s go.”
As soon as they got downstairs, Hermione and Michael were beleaguered by Ms. Rocher, who reminded them that they had yet to take the wedding portraits. An hour later, the newlyweds were finally making their way to the dance floor, where they danced to Frank Sinatra’s songs practically all night.
As she went to take a seat, Hermione spotted Molly Weasley at the other end of the ballroom. She made her way steadily to the table where the Weasley’s were sitting, noticing they were getting up.
“Molly!” exclaimed Hermione.
“Hermione, dear!” said Molly, hugging Hermione.
“Thank you so much,” whispered Hermione, so only Molly could hear her. “I know you don’t even want to be here… But thank you so much…”
“It’s all for you, darling,” Molly whispered back as Hermione pulled away.
“Are you leaving? So soon?”
“The kids are tired…” said Bill apologetically.
“I… I understand,” said Hermione, a wave of unmistakable grief washing over her.
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Molly.
Hermione nodded.
“We must get going,” said Bill.
“Thank you for coming,” said Hermione.
And that was it.
A/N: Well, guys, there you have it. Please leave a review… Some of you might be… Anyway, just… Be nice.