an-not mine-not yours-the joy of Harry Potter is Hers alone

She appraised the woman in the mirror. The pale reflection grimaced, her brow furrowed. Hermione Granger didn't wear white for a reason, it washed her out terribly. She had the unfortunate pale complication of a bookish Anglo-Saxon and when swathed in ivory silk, her freckles were stark against her blanched skin and her lips were a garish red. She looked like a china doll with dragon pox.

She lifted a finger to worry her lips, feeling the chapped, dry skin. This would have to be rectified before her wedding. She looked at the girl in the mirror and whispered the word, "Wedding."

It hadn't seemed real till today. She understood the concept, but actually being here, wearing this dress was making her feel nauseous. Her heart felt like a moth around a light bulb, racing and occasionally stuttering, the muscle battering its self against her rib cage.

Nothing had seemed real since the final battle. Remembering the worst day of her life, she sunk to the ground, skirts pooling around her.

She laughed, a hard, jaded, sound in the confines of the stall. Hermione Granger had never been the kind of girl to plan her wedding. Her parents had opted a civil ceremony and Hermione had been fourteen before she had first seen a wedding magazine. Still, she has pictured the white dress, Pachelbel's Canon playing softly as she walked up the isle. She had even thought about the colors, well the colors she couldn't use. No reds, probably no purples and definitely no oranges. But more than that, there had been two constants in every one of her wedding fantasies, her parents and the man. She had neither, all she had a skinny girl in a silky dress with a broken heart.

The dress was lovely, nicer than anything she would have picked out herself. Knowing this, Ginny and Luna had demanded to come with her. After scoffing at Hermione's own selections the girls had laced her into the third dress, the one she was currently wearing.

First Hermione had instinctively gone for a simple A line, nothing fancy. She had also picked, in her opinion, a very salacious v neck. Ginny had laughed at that one, telling Hermione that, "even my grandma wears sexier clothes".

Not classically lovely, and positively scandalous by wizarding standards, it was sleeveless, pulled tight around her upper arms. She felt even more exposed, her throat completely bare, her shoulders looking skeletal and frail. The dress hi-lighted her new figure, complements of a poor diet, little sleep and far too much running. The corset pushed up her chest and displayed a tapered waste. The skirt was, like the dress, silk. The loose folds gathered around the base of the corset, providing the swishing allusion of full hips. Hermione staggered to her feet, and swayed back and forth, absently admiring the dress.

She could hear the whispering, and she allowed a small smile. She turned and opened the changing room's mirrored door. Ginny's burnished head appeared, flowed by Luna's pale one.

"Oh Hermione, you look lovely!" Ginny squealed. Hermione knew her friend was hurting. Ginny would never get her white wedding, at least not with her prince. She had seen Ginny's swollen eyes and heard her sobbing in the night, but she still didn't know what to do. Hermione was too far gone in her own grief and confusion. She hadn't expected her friend to volunteered to find a dress, but she was glad she had Ginny with her.

Luna smiled her wan smile and looked Hermione up and down.

"You're brighter than a heliopath!" Luna enthused. Ginny grinned at Hermione who smiled at Luna. Very rarely did they fully understand the strange blond but her sentiment was clear, Hermione looked nice.

"Thanks Luna, thanks Ginny, you two mean the world to me, I wanted Mum, to to..." Hermione dissolved into a flood of tears. She wanted her Mother, she wanted her old life.

"Quick, get her out of her dress before she stains the silk" Ginny's fingers flew to the lacing and the two girls extricated a sobbing Hermione before vanishing with the dress slung like a corpse between them.

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and scrutinized the mirror again. Now, stripped down to her bra and panties, her ribs were prominent against the pale skin. A scar traversed her torso, disappearing under her bra and slicing downwards across her stomach. She turned a wrist, staring at the words carved into the skin.

Mudblood.

She tried to ignore the scar and continued taking stock. Her legs were thin, but at least they were well muscled. She turned, glaring reproachfully at her profile. Her chest was pitifully small, but at least her stomach was flat, smooth apart from the scar. Not too bad, if you liked that kind of girl. Willowy and damaged.

She reached for her jeans and sweater, trademark Hermione Granger clothes. By the time she was dressed and had pulled herself together Ginny and Luna had bought the dress and now held the large box.

The girls trooped out and into the narrow side street. They chatted about the weather and the order and Ginny teased Luna about George. By the time the three girls reached Diagon ally Ginny was smiling and Hermione had managed to banish the dark clouds from her mind. Or at least to the corners. She looked down at the box. This was going to happen, she was going to become a wife. Her reverie was broken by Ginny's excited exclamation.

"Ice cream!" Ginny veered off towards Florean Fortescue's

"It's freezing out" Hermione shook her head, then grudgingly followed the bobbing red and gold heads. Inside was just as she remembered. Hermione tried to focus on the list of favors, but it was out of focus and blurry. She was crying again, embarrassed, she slipped into the corner.

She could remember coming here, Ron and Harry and her would all get their massive ice cream, chocolate raspberry with nuts, and they would walk together, arm in arm, ice cram teetering precariously. She sniffed, blowing her nose on a paper napkin as ginny approached with the ice creams.

"We won't be allowed to take you out agin if you keep falling apart." She knew Ginny as just trying to make it better, and she tried a watery smile. Her friend was right, she couldn't dissolve into some sort of desperate basket case.

They ate their ice creams in silence. She knew they were all thinking about it. About who they lost. Finally Ginny stood, Luna followed and Hermione reluctantly rose to her feet. They left, leaning on each other, drawing strength. Hermione apparated them, it was good practice after all. She was the only one used to moving more than one person, it was easier with her two quite girls, than it had been with Harry and Ron. They were normally bickering or squabbling or running for their lives. The three girls merely clung to each other.

Grimald place looked abandoned, it wasn't, but it might well have been. Luna waved goodbye, heading back to her room at the Burrow, and quite probably George. Ginny gave Hermione a hug. The two girls stood together for a long moment.

"So tomorrow then?"

Hermione inhaled sharply, "Yes"

"Well, goodbye Miss Granger," Ginny gave a little bow, "I shall come see tomorrow evening, assuming you two haven't killed each other"

Hermione tried to smile, but couldn't. Climbing the stairs, her feet felt as heavy as her heart. She turned on the stoop to wave, but Ginny was already gone. Back to the Burrow and her family. She opened he doors and slipped past.