I own nothing
The garden was adorned with thousands of fluttering pink ribbons and bows, so much different than her own plain wedding, and Hermione felt slightly nauseated at Angelina's obnoxious display. Mrs. Weasley, however, was absolutely thrilled with her soon to be daughter's choices in décor, and had even gone so far to comment that this had been her favorite wedding to plan, even topping Harry and Ginny's elegant arrangement by the sea. It was certainly larger than Ginny's wedding, for unlike Harry, Angelina felt a need to show off her social status as the future wife of a war hero and famous Quidditch player, but perhaps Hermione was biased. She had not given Angelina Johnson much attention in school, but had always assumed her to be a nice enough girl, so why did George choosing her irk Hermione so much? She slumped down in a white chair with a fussy pink bow, and began to massage her temples, because she knew very well why his marrying Angelina bothered her.
The violin quartet started to play, and Hermione peered through her curly hair at the six gentlemen, standing at the front of the church. There was Bill, Charlie, and Percy, all looking happily at their younger brother, who was wearing a meek, uncertain grin. Then, there was her husband, Ron, who was trying to catch her eye, by winking embarrassingly, and Fred, who was staring at her with a searching expression on his face, which momentarily surprised her. But of course he knew, he was his twin, how could he not know, and just what did he think of her? The fallen wife, failing in her matronly duties, an utter disgrace to his family, daring to show up at his brother's wedding; Hermione thought she might be sick. Finally, she turned her eyes to George, who was staring glumly in the distance, not the face of a groom in love; she thought happily, feeling free to stare at him, when he was so lost in his own world. However, as if he felt the pull of her brown orbs, his eyes moved to face her, and they began to plead, for something she could not give. She had said no twice already, she would not be a hypocrite, but maybe she already was.
The quartet switched to the bridal march and a hush fell over the crowd, Hermione felt her lungs screaming for air, and she clamped her fingers to the seat, she would get through this. Ginny glided down the aisle, a frilly vision in pink, her swollen, pregnant stomach skillfully hidden by layers of lace, and a scowl slightly placed on her face. "This wedding will be worse than Fleur's," she had whispered to Hermione earlier, when they laid side by side, their stomachs bumping, "I really don't understand why Angelina is being so girly, she never seemed the type… before," she had continued, letting her words drift off as she glanced at Hermione. Hermione had shrugged it off, getting up and rushing off to kiss Ron, her husband, the man she was supposed to love. She watched as Katie, Alicia, and Angelina's sister Grace followed Ginny up the aisle, and she sucked in a breath as the entire congregation turned around. She knew Angelina was coming up the aisle, looking gorgeous enough to steal George's attention forever, but right now she would capture him, the last few seconds when he might completely belong to her.
His blue eyes gazed at her, still pleading, and she stared back, knowing they were the only ones besides Angelina, not looking down the aisle. However, finally, Angelina made it to stand beside George, and he gave her an encouraging smile, before turning and walking her to the altar. The wedding took forever, and Hermione desperately wanted to leave, but she kept her eyes on George the entire time, the man she could never have, never deserve. When he said 'I do' she choked on a sob, and when he kissed her, she resisted throwing the avada.
The reception was even fussier than the wedding, "I tried to talk her out of it, but she wanted it this way," a familiar voice said from behind her, and Hermione froze. "I, personally, would have changed everything," he continued, stepping closer to her, "even the bride." Hermione shook her head and leaned her body back a bit, so they were barely touching, "And who would be your bride, dear Pansy Parkinson?" she asked, and although it was a joke her voice was laden with gravity. "No, she's not my type, I prefer more bookish females, one in particular, and I believe that she is fond of me too," he said, imperceptibly putting his hand on her hip. "She's married, and so are you…now," Hermione replied, tears welling in her eyes. "I would leave it all, if she'd come with me," he said, his own voice becoming hoarse, "Please, Hermione, I can't live like this anymore, its all of you or nothing, I love you and I'm a possessive bloke, I can't share." She jerked away and started to walk away, searching for Ron, she found him by the firewhiskey, completely sloshed. She grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely, and he kissed back, she put everything into the kiss, and when it was over she felt empty. He roughly grabbed her and asked if she would like to go home, she shook her head no, searching for George. He was staring at them, alone, and when her eyes met his… he looked away, she had made her choice.
The night wore on and Hermione danced with everyone but George and Fred. When Fred did bring her in his arms, she was shaking with nervousness, and he was staring at her in disbelief. "You're killing him," he whispered against her hair, and she began to cry into his shoulder. "I… I just… I can't be with him, it will ruin everything, and I could never respect myself again." She replied through the sobs. Fred looked down at her in disbelief. "Do you really respect yourself now, sneaking around like this? I know that George can't help himself, he needs you, and I know that you need him, everyone else can go to hell," he said, before walking off. She watched him go, watched her love's mirror image abandon her. She left the tent, and stood beneath the stars, breathing in, breathing out. This was all her fault. He had given her three chances to leave Ron, and she had refused them all, despite what was best for her, she had refused them all, despite the fact that it was his child inside of her.
Loud cheering erupted behind her, and she turned to see the entire party exiting the tent, behind George and Angelina, who looked blissfully happy. Ron came up to her and put his arm around her, cheering as a broom soared into George's waiting hand. The crowd grew louder as the couple mounted the broom, and Hermione felt her heart dying, she knew what she had to do, even if it was too late. "George," she screamed, "GEORGE!" no one heard her, no one but George, and he looked down at her, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. She nodded her head one time, tears streaming down her face, as she shook Ron's arm off, he didn't even notice. George's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he immediately flew down to the ground, causing everyone to fall silent… this was unexpected. He began to whisper into Angelina's ear, and her head whipped around to face Hermione, her eyes narrowing. Finally, she got off the broom and began to stalk towards her, but George was faster, he scooped her up by the waist and laid her side saddle on his broom, before flying higher and higher.
Hermione looked down below to see Ron's confused, hurt face, and the stunned expressions of everyone as they surrounded Ron and Angelina, because it was all too clear what had just happened. She scanned the crowd for Fred and Ginny… and there they were the only smiling ones in the entire group, they were waving happily at George and Hermione, "Good luck!" Ginny yelled, holding on to Harry's hand, he looked murderous. Hermione turned away from them, and looked up at George, he was staring straight ahead, and holding her tightly, as if even now, she might change her mind and go back. "We can never go back," she whispered, and he shrugged. "I don't care, we still have Fred and Ginny that's all that matters," he replied as they flew towards the moon, And Hermione knew he was right, they would have Ginny and Fred, the baby inside of her, and each other, and that was all that mattered
Review