“Well, that’s done, finally!” Ron announced happily, leaning back against the cool metal of the kitchen chair with a Butterbeer. “How’d yours go? I had to deal with sobbing aunties, random guys trying to hex me when they got completely the wrong idea as soon as I mentioned ‘wedding’, and force-fed brownies, freshly baked from the oven!”
“Well, as you may or may not have noticed, I had to go and see all of your ex-girlfriends!” Ron gave him a sheepish grin as he refilled Harry’s glass. “Lavender was, unsurprisingly, busy, Megan’s boyfriend told me ‘no chance’, Kerry burst into tears on the spot, but Natalie and Hermione are coming.” Ron’s head snapped up at the last name, nearly spilling his drink, which teetered on the edge of the table where Ron had abandoned it until Harry steadied it with his wand.
“Oh yeah? What did she - er, they - say?” Ron was trying to appear casual, but failing rather miserably.
“Well, Natalie said congratulations, is she allowed to bring a guest? Hermione said congratulations as well, and what a coincidence, she was meaning to invite us to a wedding too. You remember Viktor?” Harry asked, with a wide grin that Ron conveniently missed. Harry couldn't help but feel a little mean, but he also felt Ron deserved it after all Harry had had to go through that day - whilst Ron had been fed brownies, Harry had been forced to make a swift escape from a rather accurate string of them being aimed at his head after he had offered Kerry a tissue.
“What? Viktor Krum? Of course Krum, ‘how many other Viktor’s do we know?’” Ron mimicked in a high pitched voice that Harry presumed to be an impression of Hermione. “Why is she back with that bloody Vicky? He can’t have changed that much, bet he’s still a slimy git... What else did she say? How long have they been together? When’s the wedding? How many kids are they going to have? Hope he’s broken his nose again... Too old to be playing Quidditch, what an idiot! Too old for her for that matter...” Harry let Ron carry on for a few more minutes; he was far too amused to put Ron out of his misery so soon. I guess Ron’s never going to change that much, he thought, before deciding to end his friend’s suffering.
“Ron, I was joking!" Harry admitted, interrupting Ron's one hundred and one reasons Krum was a danger to national security and so should be forced to leave the country immediately - and being so well respected in the Auror community wasn't Harry the perfect person to enforce it? "She’s not marrying anyone, let alone Krum! I don’t think she’s even seeing anyone at the moment, but I could be wrong. Not that you should care anyway, you’re getting married in a fortnight!”
Ron laughed with relief as he took another large swig of Butterbeer. “Don’t even go there! It’s just...Krum! I don’t like him! You know how it is, Harry. Come on, wasn't I fine when Hermione was engaged to that Daniel?” he pointed out fairly.
“Yeah, you were,” Harry agreed before switching tack to more pressing matters, such as the wedding, which seemed to be moving towards them at an unnaturally quick pace.
Hermione poured herself another glass of Butterbeer as she turned a page of ‘National Numerology’ absentmindedly. She braved a glance at the invitation still lying untouched on the table. Instead of sticking it to the fridge as she would usually do with events, memos or postcards, she had simply placed everything else around it on the table. Although the date on the invitation never changed, it was still edging closer all the time, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“I’m so glad you decided to stop by, dear, even if it is only for a few hours.” Mrs. Weasley smiled as Hermione bit into her baked potato.
“Well, I told Harry I’d come out to this party thing with him and Ginny and some other people going to the wedding, and I hadn't seen you all in so long...” she explained, helping herself to some salad.
“Oh, I know, it’s been far too long! But everyone seems so busy these days! To be honest, I’m quite glad of this party tonight; it gives me a chance to look after Cathy for the night. Have you seen her recently, Hermione? She’s gotten so big now!” Molly Weasley happily began to relate her latest news and gossip about what her granddaughter had been up to, Bill and Fleur, and the twins' most recent antics (amongst others) as she cleaned up the constant mess that seemed to surround the busyness of The Burrow Hermione loved so much, and she just leaned forward and listened until an interruption came.
“Hermione!” This had been the third interruption of the afternoon, the first being an unexplained explosion from upstairs (normally fairly mundane, only the twins had moved out completely a few years ago, and they weren’t visiting that day...), the second being an invasion of gnomes looking for cauliflower, and the third being that very interruption: Ron.
Ron was currently battling the familiar internal battle of whether or not to hug Hermione, causing him to take half a step forward and stumble on it. He swore inwardly, reminding himself that he wasn't at school anymore, they'd both grown up, a lot of things had happened since then; that it really wasn't necessary. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too!” Hermione replied, raising her eyebrows as his mother swatted at him.
“Not that it’s not a good thing!” Ron corrected himself swiftly. “I just wondered why - we weren’t expecting you, were we?” he asked his mother.
“Well, we weren’t, seeing as you don’t live here anymore!” Molly Weasley noted. “Although I do seem to find a fair bit of your washing ends up here somehow... Anyway, I was expecting Hermione, she owled yesterday.” With that and a smile, Mrs. Weasley left to go and rescue dinner for that evening.
“Harry invited me to a party of some sort, something to do with the wedding?" Hermione shrugged, taking a last sip of water from her glass before waving it over to the sink with her wand, and continuing her explanation. "He didn’t mention that you were going, so I presumed you were busy and didn’t bother to owl you. Harry said something about decorations?”
Ron squirmed slightly, and Hermione realised that she might have come off a bit more frosty than she had intended.
“Yeah, well, me and Tiffany were -”
“Tiffany and I,” Hermione corrected absentmindedly, rearranging her salad about her plate and smiling to herself at the sight of two of the garden gnomes in the garden running around in circles after each other through the bright purple flower beds.
“No, you were here with Mum, having lunch by the look of it! It was me and Tiffany who were sorting out the decorations up in Brighton,” Ron said, but with a grin so that Hermione would know that he was only teasing. “Anyway, I really couldn’t see any difference between the cream, vanilla and various other exotic shades of white! So Tiff told me to go home and stop being such a nuisance. She’s staying the night at her friend’s, so I might as well go to this party. That is, if you don‘t mind?” Ron added, misinterpreting the look on Hermione’s face.
“Mind? No, of course not! It’s your party, not mine, though to be honest I’m not sure whose party it is, and Ginny didn’t seem to either... but no, that’d be great! If you go I won’t seem like such a third wheel," Hermione said cheerfully, getting up from the table to clear her plate.
"Fine, I'll see you later then. I've got a few errands to run, pick you up at eight? No, I mean - " He blushed.
Hermione laughed. "No, eight will be good," she said as she left the room, leaving Ron staring after her.