Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. and all other related things aren't mine. I really wish I could've written that in pig latin but I don't know how it works...I am probably like the only person who hasn't learned that in the course of their childhood.
To all my reviewers: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story. I'm ending the His Hermione/His Wedding/His Anything-at-all series here. Forever. Well I shouldn't say forever, who knows right? But don't expect a sequel anytime soon. I have other story ideas that are just dying to come out. But definitely expect another R/Hr story from me because I have one in the works. Anyways, thank you so much once again. Love you all lots.
'The Wedding March always reminds me of the music played when soldiers go into battle'-Henrich Heine
A grimy ceiling fan spinned, slowly, above Hermione as she lay, spread-eagled on her bed. Well, her old bed. That is, she was at her parents house in her old room, desperately seeking comfort and solitude. Yet her room wasn't the best place for comfort. In fact it was rather annoying to her at the moment. The walls were painted a bright pink because their parents had expected their baby girl to be just another classic frilly-dress, barbie-loving, girl. Instead the color repulsed Hermione in such excessiveness. Her furniture wasn't that bad...at least not once Hermione had taken off the frilly lace when she was four. At age ten she began plastering on posters of things that mattered to her. Posters, not of rock stars or even ponies but people that had mattered in the Muggle World like Evita Peron or Martin Luther King.
Turning over in her bed, which was now too small to hold her properly, she noticed another one of her infamous preaching posters. The title was visible in bright red, Gandhi's Seven Deadly Sins. She'd simply found it endearing when she'd seen it. What play off the usual deadly sins. Now, all alone, she began reading all seven over in her head.
Wealth without Work. Well that wasn't a problem. She was doing alright. Better than that in fact but she was far from wealthy.
Pleasure without Conscience. She paused, blinking her wet eyelashes together. Perhaps that had been the case with her and Ron all along?
Science without Humanity. That wasn't happening. She knew Humanity always came first. People came first. But the last one was still bugging her.
Knowledge without Character. Was she ever like that? No, she wasn't. But she knew people often got that impression: Smart with no other personality trait at all.
Politics without Principle. No, she knew what came first. Feelings, hearts, love, friendship. All that good stuff. She'd known for sure since Hogwarts First Year.
Commerce without Morality. Nope.
Worship without sacrifice. Could that be the same for love too? You couldn't have love without sacrifice? Is that always how it had to be...?
Tired of thinking she turned away from the poster and curled her body together for warmth. She was still wearing her dress robes from the evening. Her cloak hung haphazardly from her neck. She had felt guilty for intruding upon her parent's and worrying them but she'd had no where else to go. Every other place would risk the chance of her running into Ron or Harry. It was amazing how much her life was intertwined with theirs. And she didn't want to see them or even think about them. Thinking of Ron...it hurt. The intial sting hadn't lessen at all. She kept hearing his words.
I hate you.
It made her eyes fill up with tears. And when she thought of Harry. God, she was bloody pissed off! It was all his fault this had happened in the first place! But another side, a smaller side mind you, kept telling her that it wasn't all Harry's fault. He'd had good intentions and when it boiled down to it she had no one to blame but herself.
Right?
What did it matter at the moment? She had lost both her fiance and her best mate all in one night. Neither of them would ever speak to her again. Or, for that matter, each other. That hurt the most of all. Knowing that she'd messed up not only for herself but Ron and Harry too. They'd never be friends again after this. She'd destroyed them. They'd been through so much together even before Hermione had come into their lives and after she'd left it. Now, years later, she was the one who had broken them apart for life most likely. She'd broken herself apart from them.
She pressed her face against her pillow tightly to muffle her sobs.
"It wasn't all your fault, you know," Luna sighed, pulling her night robe over her more tightly.
"Tell me how that factors in with you? If it hadn't been for my big mouth...," Harry grumbled, trying to keep himself strong.
"Well, something was wrong with them before you opened your big mouth," Luna explained, calmly, "When two people who are about to be married start keeping secrets...it never ends well. Even if you hadn't gotten involved. Something would've happened."
"Like what?" Harry said, speaking in the tone of a defeated man.
"Who knows? You got involved so we'll never know what was supposed to happen. It's all fate, you know," Luna said, quietly.
"Fate? Oh Luna...there's no such thing," Harry replied, groaning inwardly. He was too tired to play her games right now.
"You can't let your faith quiver after just one let-down," Luna said, sitting down at her dressing table and brushing her hair.
"Why not?" Harry asked, not really wanting an answer.
Luna looked over her shoulder, "I'm pregnant."
Harry sat up, rigid, and said, breathlessly, "What?"
"I'm P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T. Pregnant. It comes from Indo-European roots, tracing back all the way to Latin. It means-"
"I know what it means, silly!" Harry interrupted, taking a seat beside her in front of the large mirror at the dressing table, "And I can't believe it! I'm going to be a-"
"Father, yes," Luna smiled, her lips slightly chapped.
It didn't stop Harry from kissing them. After a while, however, she pulled away.
"We can celebrate later," Luna whispered, still close to him, "Right now I'd rather have you fix what you helped do. Find Hermione. Find Ron. I'd rather like to see a summer wedding."
Morning came. The Wedding day. Yet everybody close to the couple was doubtful about whether the wedding would take place or not.
"Theese iz terrribul!" Marcel cried, getting up at five thirty to start preparing and finding out about the problems that had arose.
Hermione was up at six, eyes red from crying all last night. She felt a bit better from last night but not enough to what to embarrass herself by getting ready for a wedding that obviously wasn't going to happen. It was supposed to begin at eleven and until the moment was over all she could do was stay in her room, at the window side and stare at the window, helplessly hoping against all hope that Ron would come.
At six thirty to her great surprise and excitement her mother came in all happy and said that Hermione had a visitor.
"Shall I let him in?" Mrs. Granger asked, grinning.
"Yes," Hermione smiled, acting as if it were no big deal.
To her great, great, GREAT disappointment Harry walked through the door into her room. Mrs. Granger shut the door behind her leaving them alone. He looked out of place in her house which he had never been to. In fact none of the trio had been to each other's childhood houses. Except Ron's.
"Oh," Hermione's face fell, "It's you."
"Yeah, Hermione, listen," Harry started, coming to sit on Hermione's bed, "I'm sorry. I know I messed up badly. What I did...is past forgiveness. But if you do I want to be able to make it up to you."
She glared at him from her place at the window, "Can you create a happy wedding full of happy people?"
"I'd like to try," Harry said, looking straight at her.
Hermione had never seen him more genuine. More innocent, more pure, more just plain old Harry. She loved Harry and she could never deny that feeling. He was her best friend! How could she not love him.
"You're making this awfully hard on me," Hermione said, daring a small smile.
"It wasn't so hard when you said you hated me last night," Harry stated, biting his lip.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, coming over to the bed, "I didn't mean that, mate. I love you. You're my best friend."
"So you didn't mean to hurt me?" Harry questioned, an eyebrow raised.
"No, never. And I'm guessing you didn't mean to hurt me with your big fat mouth?" Hermione demanded, a full fledged smile etched on her face.
"No! So am I forgiven? Are you still mad?" Harry asked, more scared this time to hear the answers.
"You are forgiven and I am a bit...let's say annoyed but I'll get over it soon enough," Hermione gave him a lop-sided smile, "So tell me how you're going to fix my life now?"
"Well, I know of this smart little witch who has bushy hair and knows her seeking spells very well," Harry implied, "And I know of a dark-haired, and if I do say so myself dashing-Hermione giggled at this part and said, "Stop! You're beginning to sound like Lockhart!"-wizard who will go where ever that seeking spell tells him too.
"Alright, alright. Let me get my maps. You suppose he's still in England?" Hermione demanded, shifting through her desk.
"I'm guessing he's still in London," Harry decided, solidly, "Probably at some strip joint-catching Hermione's eyes he corrected himself-I mean, some-some-bar..."
"Ok, here's my map," Hermione said, pulling her wand out of her robes, "Trouvoutrus."
Instantly a light began flashing on the map. Hermione brought her face forward and squinted at it.
"He's at the intersection of Weshire and Queen's. Know where that is?" Hermione asked, looking up.
"I think it's one of the stops that the Knight Bus makes," Harry replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "What strip joint is near there?"
Hermione hit him across the head with her rolled up map, "He doesn't have to be at a 'strip joint'-she furiously made quotations with her fingers-you know!"
"He doesn't have to be there but he probably will be there," Harry responded, "Don't get territorial. He hasn't gone once since you two have been together."
The last statement seemed to please Hermione and calm her slightly, "Well? What now?"
Harry took once last look at the map and waved good-bye to Hermione, "Now you get ready for the wedding which will happen and I will go and find your fiance."
Before Hermione could argue or even get in a word of farewell he disapparated with a quick pop. She stared at the spot which he had stood at for a second before bustling off downstairs. If there was to be a wedding she was going to look fan-spanking-tastic for it.
"Baaang, baaang you shot me down! Baaang, baaang I hit the ground! Baaang, baaang that AWfuuul souundd! Baaang, baaang my baaabbyy shot me doOoOoOown!" about ten drunk men sang, while all the others in the bar clapped and thundered praise.
One of the drunk men singing, the loudest and probably one of the youngest there, had great hands around his shoulders and he grabbed another glass of beer and gulped it down. Draining the glass, he spit over his shoulder.
"Great song, great song," he nodded, appreciatively, "You Muggles have got yourself great music."
"Muggles? What 'choo talkin' 'bout?" a great, boulder of a bald man asked.
"He's drunk, Harold, drunk!" a grisly old man at the bar cackled, drinking furiously himself, "He's been here all night and he's making me filthy rich!"
Harold, grinned in his own stupid way, and offered the drunk red-head another drink.
As another song started up, no one noticed a man walk into the bar even though the bells chimed. He was dressed in a suit, all black. He looked like he worked for the government or something. He walked into the bar stiffly, obviously out of place. He looked wide awake for someone who was up and about at seven in the morning.
He noticed a great huddle of men at a small round table, he ignored it and walked straight to the bar. Earl, the bar man was extremely surprised to have someone in his bar who wore anything that wasn't from a thrift shop. He noticed the man's shoes. It looked like something he'd seen in a store long, long ago. Almost in another life it seemed. The word came to him, shaky and familiar.
"Pra-da?" he asked.
The man looked confused, "Excuse me?"
"Prada? Are your shoes Prada?" the Earl repeated.
For the first time, Harry spared a second glance at the shoes he'd only just bought so he'd look more like a Muggle, "Yeah."
Earl grinned. His first rich customer. He put on his most polite tone, "How can I help ya?"
"Actually I wanted to know if you had seen a redhead? He's taller than me by about 2 inches? His name's Ron Weasley?" Harry asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable in his clothing.
"Oh yeah, yeah. He's over there," Earl said, slightly disappointed that the rich man didn't seem to want to order a drink.
Harry headed over to the round table filled with men, sitting all around it. He noticed Ron among all the dirty blonde and sandy brown heads instantly. He circled around the table so he'd finally come to stand across from him.
"Ron!" Harry shouted, over the loud raucous singing.
They didn't seem to hear and continued, "Is it alllllll? Or are we just friendsss? Is this hoooow it ennndsss? With just a simple telephone caaaalll, You leave me here with noooothing at allllll!"
After trying to cut into the singing three times, Harry's temper was running high. It was already seven fifteen and he didn't have all the time in the world.
"WILL YOU SHUT THE BLOODY MUSIC OFF!" he exclaimed, finally getting some attention.
The record screeched to a halt and all eyes were on Harry. Most of them angry eyes.
"Harry," Ron breathed, as if he thought he'd never seen him again.
"Ron," Harry replied, cordially, "Come on. We're leaving. You've got a wedding to get to."
"No," Ron said in turn, simply.
"What?" Harry asked, surprised that he wasn't dying to see Hermione.
"I'm not getting marrying. Not to Hermione. She cheated on me. She's preg-preg-what's that damn word? Oh yeah! Pregang. No. Pregnant! Yeah! That's what she is. That little...," Ron trailed off.
"No, Ron. She's not pregnant. It was just stress. I only thought she was. I made a mistake. Hermione never cheated on you," Harry clarified, hurriedly.
"Not pregnant?" Ron blinked.
"Yeah. Now come on," Harry urged, tugging Ron's arm.
He pulled it away, "I don't believe you. She just wants me to marry her so she'll have father for her baby!"
Harry sighed. Now was he supposed to convince a man who was drunk? He'd have to sober up before he could understand what was really going on. But how to get him home in time to sober him up?
"Alright. If you don't believe, let's make things interesting. Shots. Whoever drinks most and lasts longer is the winner. And when I win, you have to come home with me," Harry challenged.
"And if I win?" Ron demanded, his words slurred.
"You can sit right here and drink yourself to insanity," Harry stated, easily.
Ron thought about it for a second, "Ok."
"Bar man?" Harry called to the bar, "We'll need a lot of shots."
Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Ron were still drinking. The former hadn't expected the later to last this long. Actually in all truth, Harry wasn't really drinking. All he was doing was vanishing the shots with a quick spell. One of them had to stay sober after all. Finally just when it looked like this was going to go on forever. Ron gave up. The drunks all around cheers and thumped Harry's back. He grinned. It did feel rather good even though he cheated. He quickly brushed the thought away from his mind. That was a little too Slytherin for his taste.
Harry managed to drag an extremely drunk Ron out of the bar but it was made very much more difficult by the fact that he kept trying to punch Harry. But in his current state his aim was so bad that the only thing his fist made contact with was the air...and unfortunately a large woman whom Harry had had to apologize to profusely. Finally they'd found a dark alley in which they could joint-apparate in peace.
By this time it was eight. He had only a few hours to sober Ron up, explain everything, and get him ready. Luckily he'd left a lot of his best man responsibilities in Marcel's capable hands for now.
He started off with cold water on the face. When that didn't work he'd dumped Ron in the bath tub, clothes and all. That definitely woke him up like nothing else. He'd followed that up with leaving him alone for a good while in which he threw up most of his drinks. After that the Ronster definitely needed coffee which he drank seven cups of in the span of half an hour. After all this was said and done it was nine forty-five and Harry noticed a sober Ron returning.
He was beginning to look at Harry in curiousity. He wanted answers.
"You can't hide from me, you know," Ron said, sitting on the couch in Harry's apartment.
Luckily Luna wasn't here so they could just talk. Man to man.
"I don't want to hide from you. I didn't sleep with Hermione," Harry stated, coming to sit across from him.
"I know that but...you didn't tell me she slept with someone else either," Ron responded.
"She didn't sleep with anyone else. She's a virgin, remember?" Harry answered.
"Then tell me, genuis, how is she pregnant?" Ron demanded, both hands holding his latest cup of coffee.
"She's not. She only thought she was. I was misinformed when I told you," Harry replied, watching him closely.
"Why did she ever hide it from me? For so long?" Ron asked, anger being replaced by hurt all of a sudden, "She always used to trust me..."
"She still does, mate," Harry said, "But I don't know all the answers. You'll have to ask Hermione all that later."
"How can I marry her if I don't know all of her? Completely? Perfectly?" Ron questioned, looking utterly confused and caught up in the moment.
"I don't think marriage or even love is about that, you know what I mean? Can anyone really know someone entirely? I know I don't know Luna entirely. But it doesn't matter. It's about loving them anyways. It's about knowing that mysterious, that certain space is supposed to be there. Everyone has something inside that no one will quite understand. It's just...like that. Love isn't about finding someone perfect," Harry said, looking fixedly at place in the wall as if thinking intensely, "It's about seeing an imperfect person perfectly."
"Wow, mate. That's deep. Too bad you just got it from the calender behind me, didn't you?" Ron asked, laughing.
Harry grinned, "Ah well. You get what I mean."
After the laughter stopped, Ron agreed, "Yeah. Yeah..."
"So?" Harry inquired.
"So?" Ron repeated, tilting his head to one side and studying his best mate.
"So this there going to be a wedding?" Harry asked, arms crossed.
"I don't know. I need time to think. Alone," Ron hinted.
"Ah. Alright. Well, I'll go even though it is my flat. I need to help organize some of the last of this wedding business," Harry said, standing up, "It starts at eleven."
"I know," Ron almost whispered.
"I guess I'll see you," Harry breathed out, "I did my best but it's all in your hands now. It is your wedding."
He shut the door and left. Ron sighed. His Wedding...
"What am I even doing here?" Hermione muttered to herself.
It was ten thirty. She was sitting behind closed doors in a wedding chapel. Beyond those doors was a straight pathway lined with nicely cut small pine trees in a lush green color. The pathway itself was spread with white flower petals and red velvet. Then it came to a sharp turn left and there...sat about two hundred who were waitng for a wedding to begin soon. And if she was lucky Ron would be at the altar by then. But she highly doubted it.
Harry had yet to return with any news of her fiance and it was a half hour till things were going to go down. Hermione was either to be humiliated or wed. She twisted her hands together in her lap.
"Where is Harry?" she asked, furiously.
"Don't worry he'll get here soon enough, 'Mione," Ginny said, dressed in a bridesmaid gown of a nice warm bronze color. It was the only color that worked for all three bridesmaids and there different physiques.
It compliment Ginny's bright red hair, Gywn's tawny skin, and Luna's translucent eyes.
"Actually, he's here already," Luna stated, looking out the window.
"Where? Let me see!" Gywn squealed, pushing Luna out of the way with an elbow in excitement, "Now that is hot. You never told me he was hot, Hermione! Shame on you for keeping him from me! Gosh, he's even got a butt that kills-"
"Gwyn! Please! I don't want to be hearing this right now! Especially not about my best mate, Harry, who, let me remind you, is already married to Luna," Hermione said, gesturing towards the blonde.
"Oh, right. Nice catch," Gwyn congratulated Luna without the least bit of shame.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well, let him in!"
Ginny rushed to the door and opened it before Harry could even knock.
"Herms-even now Hermione frowned, "Don't call me that!"-yeah, ok, fine. But anyways. I found him. He's not drunk anymore. He knows everything," Harry explained.
"Ok...so is he here?" Hermione asked hopefully.
Harry's face fell, "Well, he said he needs to think things over. So I have no clue. He said if he wants to marry you, he'll be here at the right time and if he doesn't...I don't know..."
"What are you saying? Either way I have to walk down the aisle and find out the truth there like a bad muggle reality show?" Hermione demanded, awestruck.
"I'm sorry...," Harry mumbled.
"It's not your fault. You did your best, I'm sure. Go on. At least it'll be a comfort to know you'll be there for sure," Hermione sighed, gesturing for Harry to come closer.
He did and she hugged tightly and planted a small peck on his cheek before whispering, "Congratulations on your baby."
Harry pulled away and smiled, sadly. It hurt to see her be so strong and yet so weak at the same time. He was hoping that Ron would show up at the right time.
The time seemed to pass slowly as Hermione waited for the clock to struck eleven. Finally the time came and Hermione heard music start up with violins and pianos and a hint of the saxophone just as she and Ron wanted. Georgie, Hermione's cousin was first to step out as the flower girl.She was followed closely by William, who was behaving surprising well and played the part of the ring bearer wonderfully.
Ginny went out first with Neville escorting her. It was not a date sort of thing at all. In fact Ron had just wanted Neville involved in some way so Ginny offered to have him walk her down the aisle. Ron probably wouldn't even be here to actual see it. It was strange that it suddenly struck Hermione that each couple almost was a symbol of Ron and Hermione. First Ginny and Neville. Friends. That's all. That's what Ron and Hermione had thought they were to each other most of their lives. The past.
Next was Gwyn and Kyle, young, slightly dumb, yet romantic nonetheless. They walked each other down, hand in hand. Whispering sweet nothings in each other's ear like Ron and Hermione had done at Harry and Luna's wedding. And now they were engaged. Happy. The present.
Finally Harry and Luna, giving Hermione one last comforting look before they set off and left her alone were the future. Or at least what it could've been. Happy, married. Not the perfect couple and yet...perfect in their imperfectness. That was what Hermione craved.
All alone, she suddenly wasn't so frightening any longer. What was meant to happen would happen. She needed to face it with bravery. Like a true Gryffindor. If Ron loved her, truely loved her, he'd be standing at that altar despite everything. And if he wasn't...well it just wasn't meant to be is all.
As she stood and straightened her dress and strained a smile on her face, she heard the Wedding march. This was not just His Wedding. This was Her Wedding too.
She walked out, strongly, bravely. Ready to take on the world if she had to. Anticipation rose as she came to the corner. She prayed and wished with all her heart that Ron would be there. She wanted him now more than she ever had.
Rounding the corner, with her eyes closed. She opened them, looking more beautiful then than she ever had in her life. Her eyes looked to the altar. On either side stood all those she held dear, smiling strongly at her. Prepared to help her through anything. All the pain, the tears, the sleepless nights. But they didn't have to because in the center, beside an empty spot that was meant for her, stood Ron. Smiling more largely than the rest of them put together.
Hermione stopped herself from breaking out in tears and grinned instead. She half ran to the altar and came to stand beside Ron. He took her hand and his eyes told a story of forgiveness and she was grateful for it.
An aged old wizard began speaking.
"Let us here the vows," he said after a while.
It was Hermione's cue to go first. However, her vows were the farthest thing from her mind as she looked him in the eye and said, "I love you. I love you so much."
Everyone seemed rather surprised by the simplicity of the words coming from her mouth. She continued.
"I love everything about you. Your unbelievably messy way of eating. Your adult freckles. Your laughter. Your smile. The way you make everything beautiful. Even me. I know it's selfish but I love the way you love me. You don't love me 'cause I'm beautiful but I became beautiful when you started loving me. And I in return I want to give my whole entire self, my whole world, everything in it, to you because I love you. I love you so much."
All the way she could feel Ron squeezing her hands. He breathed out. It was now his turn. How could he match that?
"Erm...ditto."
Everyone laughed. Even Hermione in all her uptight behavior smiled.
"But I have more to say. Loving you is irrational, immature, and totally childish the way we've come about it. And yet whatever angle I look at it from, it's perfect. To me everything we have is perfect. You're perfect. And you make me love two very different things about love. You make me love you and yet you also make me love the adventure of loving. You make me sure that love is something that is always fun. And sometimes you confuse me. Sometimes your frustrating. But all that doesn't matter. What really matters is that when I'm with you...being awake is better than dreaming because your love is more wild, more exotic, more beautiful than any dream I could ever have. And I can never get you out of my head...but maybe your supposed to be there? And now that you're there it makes me think that I'll follow you to the edge of the world. It make me believe that all I was meant to do is love you," Ron smiled.
Hermione and Ron leaned in and kissed, tenderly.
Neville leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "Which month of the calender was that from?"
Harry smiled, softly, and whispered back, "That wasn't from the calender, mate."
The wizard now looked awfully flustered, "Well after that display of affection is there any need to ask this? Mr. Weasley, do you take Miss Granger as your wife?"
"I do," Ron grinned, holding her hand more tightly than ever.
"And you, Miss Granger, do you take Mr. Weasley as your husband?"
"I do," Hermione said, promptly.
"Then, you may kiss the bride. Although I see no need in doing it again," the wizard added, to himself.
They leaned and shared another kiss to the clapping of everyone around.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Friends, please welcome to the world, the new Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."
Author's Note: What's there left to say? Hope it wasn't too cheesy. Thought I'd pull an all-outer at the very end haha. You guys were always craving the fluff. The songs featured in this chap were Bang Bang by Nancy Sinatra and All or Nothing by Fake I.D. Thanks to you all! Hugs and Kisses.
xo. winky