It's a Very Weasley Wedding
To Marry a Weasley
“Miss Granger?”
Hermione, who had been reading the same line about fifteen times, feigned annoyance at the interruption from her assistant, who had just rapped lightly on the door. Although she was annoyed, it wasn’t at the diminutive Miranda Banks; it was at herself, for having been so bloody distracted all day.
“What is it?” she said shortly, although her heart really wasn’t in it and she knew from the barely concealed smile on Miranda’s face that her assistant knew it, too. Hermione also found that annoying.
“You have a visitor.”
Before Hermione could ask who it was, a willowy, athletic red-haired young woman with a splash of freckles across her nose appeared behind Miranda. “Hi,” Ginny Weasley said cheerfully as she stepped around Miranda and into the office. Taking this as her cue to leave, Miranda slipped back to her desk.
“So, are you ready to go?” Ginny asked, with a hint of impatience in her voice.
“Go?” Hermione paused for a moment, then she remembered. Tonight was Ladies’ Night. She glanced around at her cluttered workspace and the inbox on the corner of her desk; she was nowhere near finishing the tasks she’d set out to do that morning. Hermione hated taking vacations from work for this exact reason - nothing ever got done, and when she returned, inevitably there was an even bigger mess and a backlog that would take her a week to get through before she could even think about getting to her regular work.
“Give me five minutes,” she said.
Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “For you, five minutes will mean two hours.”
“Oh hush, Ginny. I’m in the middle of something, and I can’t leave it unfinished.”
“This is our last night as single women, we have to get it all out of our system before tomorrow. Work will still be here when you get back, now come on! I promised the girls that we’d meet them for drinks by six, and it’s already five-thirty.” “The Girls” were Luna Lovegood, Parvati and Padma Patil, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell. Fleur had also been invited, but since she was heavily pregnant with her and Bill’s second child, she’d chosen to skip the party and stay home.
But Hermione had stopped listening. She could only hear her heart pounding against the wall of her chest. She let the pen slip from her fingers and instantly forgot about the paperwork in front of her. By this time tomorrow she would be Hermione Granger-Weasley. She found this both thrilling and terrifying.
“I’m getting married,” she murmured. The words poured over her like warm, cascading water. All day long, thoughts of the wedding had been floating in and out of her mind, despite her best efforts not to let them distract her from her work. There had been moments, albeit fleeting ones, where she hadn’t thought about the wedding, or Ron, at all. But then those thoughts would hit her out of the blue, inevitably when she was right in the middle of something, and she was then completely thrown off course. In the seven hours she had been at the office, she estimated having completed maybe two hours’ worth of work.
“Well, if you’re sure you really want to marry into my crazy family,” Ginny said, coming up to Hermione’s desk. “There’s still time to bail out.”
“I think I’ll take my chances,” Hermione replied dryly, but smiled.
“Of course, how could I forget, you’re probably as mental as the rest of us by now.”
Hermione swatted her, and Ginny giggled. “All right, let’s go,” Hermione said, and after one last sweeping glance around her office, she gathered her things and they departed.
* * * *
It was after midnight when the two of them Apparated with a “pop!” at the end of the path that led to the Burrow. The last six hours had been spent dining and dancing at the local club. There was also a bit of alcohol consumed, but for the most part Hermione and Ginny had both abstained, other than partaking in a champagne toast at the close of the meal.
“Ginevra Weasley-Potter,” Ginny said slowly. She carefully formed every syllable as if to prolong the experience. “I must say, that sounds pretty fantastic.”
“It certainly does,” Hermione replied, and a soft smile played across her lips. Then inexplicably she thought about Ron, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t seen him in over sixteen hours since she’d left for work and he’d left for Quidditch practice with the Cannons. He was spending the night at Harry and Ginny’s flat, while Hermione would be staying with Ginny at the Burrow in Ginny’s old room - Molly Weasley had insisted on honoring the Muggle tradition of the bride and groom not seeing each other the night before the wedding, out of respect for Hermione’s parents. Ron had called it a “load of rubbish”. At the time Hermione had chided him for that remark, but now she wished she hadn’t. An ache rose in her chest; all she wanted right now was to feel his arms around her, holding her close until she fell asleep. She wanted to breathe in the scent of his skin, which always seemed to carry with it the faintest hint of freshly mowed grass, even after a shower. To Hermione, that smell was better than any store-bought cologne (which Ron wouldn’t wear anyway, of course).
Ginny leaned against Hermione and held her arm. “I miss Harry,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I know it sounds clichéd, considering I just met him for lunch today. But now that I can’t see him I want to see him more.”
“I know what you mean,” Hermione replied. “I miss Ron, too.”
The two women leaned closer to each other as they walked. Their pace slowed as they neared the Burrow, which was dark save for a solitary light that Molly had left on, glowing in the kitchen window.
“Hermione?”
“Hm?”
“I feel kind of strange asking this but when did you ‘know’? I mean, that Ron was The One? Not like when you realized you liked him ‘that way’, but really seriously the one you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.”
“Dumbledore’s funeral,” Hermione answered, with little hesitation. “It’s hard to explain, but I guess in short, he made me feel safe. We were watching Dumbledore’s body go up in flames, and…” Hermione’s voice caught in her throat, “…and without even thinking about it, I put my head on his shoulder, and he held me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I just knew that this was it. Ron would always be the one I wanted to go to when I needed strength.”
A swell of emotion rose in Hermione’s chest that was so strong she had to stop walking. The need to be with Ron became suddenly very intense; she was half-inclined to Apparate right to Harry’s flat just to give Ron a kiss goodnight; a very long kiss.
“Well, now you’ve got the rest of your lives to be together, right?” Ginny said comfortingly, and put her arm around Hermione’s shoulder. “And I’m sure before long he’ll be driving you stark raving mad and you’ll wonder what on earth you were thinking.”
Despite herself, Hermione giggled. “What about you?” she asked, “with Harry, I mean. When did you ‘know’?”
Ginny released a long, thoughtful sigh. “Would it be too clichéd for me to say that I kind of always knew?”
“Just a little,” Hermione said, and they laughed.
“Well there are so many moments. But I suppose anything that happened before I turned 15 wouldn’t really count.”
Hermione leaned close and spoke quietly in her ear, like they were schoolgirls sharing a secret. “Was it the kiss? That was pretty incredible - and so not like Harry to be that demonstrative. I think if we asked him, he’d say that was his moment.”
“Typical boy, right?” Ginny remarked, with a grin. “I wonder what Ron’s moment would be?”
Hermione nudged her. “Come on now, yours first.”
“Okay, okay. Yeah, that first kiss was incredible. But the moment I knew that Harry was The One was when he broke up with me, actually. After the funeral.” Ginny grew misty-eyed. “Because it was such a selfless thing, putting the needs of everyone else ahead of his own. Sure he does that all the time, but this…this was different. It was a sad moment but also a great one because I absolutely knew we’d be together again, and that it would stick.”
“Two years and counting,” Hermione said encouragingly. “So, want to head in? I think we should get some sleep, since tomorrow’s going to be a pretty crazy day.”
“Well I seriously doubt I’ll get much sleep but we should go in,” Ginny said with a smile, and they went inside to go to bed.
* * * *
When Hermione took her first breath of the morning, she inhaled the unmistakable scent of roses. At first she thought she was dreaming, but then she opened her eyes and came upon a breathtaking scene. Roses - vases full of them in every size, and color. Petals were scattered on the floor, and a few were on the bedcovers. Not a bare inch of free space was to be seen. The smell was almost overpowering. The room had virtually exploded with them.
“Ginny!” Hermione reached over and shook her sleeping friend. “Ginny, wake up - look!”
“What are you - blimey! Look at them, they’re beautiful.” Ginny pushed aside the blankets and stood up. She wandered around the room, fingering the soft petals while occasionally pausing to inhale the perfumed scent. “Hey, come here - there’s a card.”
“To our brilliant future wives - we can’t wait to marry you. Harry & Ron”.
Hermione moved closer to the window to get more light; through a break in the curtains, she noticed Ron and Harry lingering just outside on the lawn. Clearly Molly had no idea they were there, otherwise she would have shooed them away like flies. Hermione was surprised that Mrs. Weasley hadn’t set alarm bells all over the property to prevent them sneaking in. Ron and Harry were dressed in jeans and T-shirts, and their hair was rumpled. They were looking up in the direction of the window, but Hermione doubted they could see her or Ginny through the curtains from that far down. They leaned together, conversing, and Hermione thought she saw Ron crack a smile. Had he seen her? Her heart leapt into her throat. She glanced at Ginny, who was still absorbed in the card, having reread it several times. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, but she was smiling from ear to ear.
“Ron and Harry are here,” Hermione said quietly.
“They are?” Ginny’s eyes seemed to dance with delight, although the more likely explanation was the sunlight reflecting off her tears. “Where?”
“Downstairs, in the yard. They wanted to come and admire their handiwork, they just couldn’t help themselves.” Hermione smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. But when she saw Ginny slip closer to the window, she moved her away gently but firmly with one hand.
“Remember, we can’t let them see us,” she said.
Ginny looked indignant. “That’s certainly easy for you to say since you’ve already seen Ron. I just want to wave at Harry, that’s all.”
“Ginny - “
“Come off it, Hermione.”
“In just about three hours we’ll be able to see them all we want, now come on. We need to help each other resist temptation. Besides we have a lot to do, and I don’t want to be anywhere in range if your mum catches them here.”
Ginny acquiesced with a melodramatic sigh and the rolling of her eyes, but in true Weasley fashion, she took a quick peek over Hermione’s shoulder and beamed at the sight of Harry just before Hermione moved her out of sight.
* * * *
Two hours later, the Burrow was abuzz with activity. Guests had begun to arrive, Hermione’s parents among them; Mrs. Granger had spent a few emotional minutes with her daughter before being ushered away by Mr. Granger to help the Weasleys greet their guests. Molly had been in and out of the room throughout the morning, fussing over Ginny like a mother hen, and only recently had been banished to the downstairs by Arthur to give their daughter some relief.
Hermione’s breathing was unsteady as she stood in the full-length mirror, now fully dressed, forty-five minutes before the start of the ceremony. She wanted desperately to keep herself busy; as long as her hands were moving and her brain was occupied she would be fine. But there were no more adjustments to make, and she was at a loss.
Her gown was impeccable; it was a strapless ivory silk taffeta. She had spent the better part of six months searching for it, and had finally found it at an out-of-the-way Muggle dress shop in London. She knew Ron would love it. She had wanted something simple and elegant, and this one more than fit the bill.
Ginny had also gone the traditional route, with a simple empire-waisted white ivory silk gown with short sleeves and a scoop neck. At that moment she was fussing with a strand of antique pearls that Arthur and Molly had given her; the pearls were a Weasley family heirloom passed down through each generation of Weasley women on their wedding day. Her hair was swept up out of her face, with a few loose tendrils dangling around her face; she wore a wreath of flowers.
Hermione watched her for a long moment; and then, for no explicable reason, she thought about her parents downstairs, mingling with the witches and wizards. The Grangers were the only Muggles in attendance. They loved Ron, and got along famously with Arthur and Molly, but Hermione knew that it really couldn’t be easy for them not having any other family there; particularly since their own wedding had been considerably more formal with family flying in from far and wide to attend the ceremony. They had already broken the news to the rest of Hermione’s Muggle relatives - as far as anyone knew, she had eloped.
“I hope mum and dad are okay,” Hermione said suddenly, going to the window to peer out at the guests mingling in the yard. It didn’t take her long to spot her parents; they were standing with Arthur and Molly and chatting with drinks in their hands. Her mother was dressed in a flattering peach silk dress and her father wore a gray suit. Both of them were smiling, and accepting congratulations from guests.
“Why wouldn’t they be okay?” Ginny asked, drawing up behind her. She put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Is anything wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking about how they’ll get along now that...I’m married.” The words caught in her throat.
“You mentioned they were planning a safari to Africa, that sounds fascinating.”
“Yes, they’ll be leaving next month.” Hermione sighed. “I guess what I mean is I hope they don’t have any regrets, raising a witch for a daughter instead of having a regular Muggle life.”
“A regular Muggle life? Where’s the fun in that?” Ginny said comfortingly. “Your parents love you very much, and they are so proud of you. They wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
“But I should have spent more time with them, don’t you think? I was always off here, or at Hogwarts, or hunting for horcruxes. I must have spent a total of six weeks at home in the last ten years. Everything was about me, and not about them. Oh, I’m sorry - I love being in the wizarding world and I wouldn’t trade it for anything…it’s just…” she fought to find the right words, but for once they wouldn’t come.
“You don’t have to explain anything.” Ginny touched her hair and leaned comfortingly against her shoulder. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I’m a nervous wreck, I’m sure that I’d fall apart if I had to do it alone.”
“I’m glad, too.” Hermione smiled even as tears pricked the back of her eyes. But she was determined not to cry; not today.
“Although I don’t think that Harry and Ron would think it was a good idea to do the honeymoon together,” Ginny quipped. “Particularly not the wedding night.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so,” said Hermione, and they shared a laugh.
* * * *
There was a gentle breeze blowing when Hermione and Ginny, accompanied by their proud fathers, were escorted outside to the back yard. The brides had decided to walk down the aisle side by side rather than have one of them precede the other, so the aisle had been widened. The chairs on both sides were full of curious and excited guests, but Hermione didn’t see any of them as she stood on the left side of the aisle holding her modest bouquet of roses. Her eyes latched onto Ron standing at the altar, wearing a charcoal gray suit and a gold ascot. Next to him was Harry, also in charcoal gray, but with a burgundy ascot. She heard Ginny emit a small sob of joy just before they started walking toward the altar. For the next thirty seconds, all Hermione was aware of was the feeling of her father’s hand on her arm, and the beating of her heart. But as soon as they reached the end of the aisle, her eyes fell on Ron.
“You really are a girl,” Ron said quietly, with a twinkle in his eye as he took her arm. Then he bent to kiss her cheek. Beside them, Harry took Ginny’s arm from a noticeably emotional Arthur Weasley, and the ceremony began.
Hermione fought to keep her attention focused on the altar, and on the vicar reading the opening monologue; but in defiance, her eyes wandered everywhere. She sneaked a glance at Harry and Ginny, both of whom had their attention focused straight ahead. Although at one point Harry’s eyes wandered to his bride, and Hermione swore she caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes, even behind the glasses. Harry had suggested not wearing the glasses for the ceremony, but Ginny had shot down that idea without hesitation.
The pressure of Ron’s hand on her arm intensified, and she realized that the time had come for them to recite their vows to each other. When she turned to face him, his eyes were twinkling and his cheeks flushed. For Hermione the world completely dropped away except for herself and Ron, and the disembodied voice of the vicar feeding them the vows to recite back.
Then, finally: “….I now pronounce you, husband and wife…you may now kiss the brides.”
“Ah, my favorite part,” Ron quipped. Then he cupped her face in his hands and brought her close to him. Her arms went up around his neck, while his crept around her waist, and his lips covered hers. All around them people applauded and cheered, and it seemed like fireworks went off as they kissed.
When they finally broke apart, she realized that fireworks were indeed going off, in a vast array of vibrant colors that stood out even against the blue sky. Guests were oohing and aahing in appreciation.
“Courtesy of Fred and George,” Ron said, squeezing her close. “It’s their wedding present.”
“It’s just beautiful,” Hermione said with a smile, and glanced over her shoulder toward Ginny and Harry. They were entwined in each other’s arms with Ginny’s head resting against Harry’s chest and her eyes turned upward. Meanwhile Harry looked up and over Hermione’s shoulder, and cocked his chin just a bit. He was looking at Ron, like he had the day of his and Ginny’s first kiss. From behind her, she felt Ron shift slightly, and she knew he was smiling back.
She turned around, her eyes searching for her parents - and she found them in the first row, next to Arthur and Molly. Their eyes were rimmed with tears, but at the same time they were smiling and applauding with the rest of the guests. Her father’s eyes met hers, and he tilted his head forward just a bit as if giving her permission to move forward, and start her new life. Her mother mouthed, “We love you”, and blew her a kiss.
And Hermione felt more safe and happy than she ever had in her entire life.