A/N: Prompt: Race with Serpentine using pairings I don't like. (Uh.. if you love Ron, probably should go read another story, sorry…)

Beta Love: fluffpanda

Ending Hijacker: Story Please

Summary: Ron is late to his own wedding and leaves Hermione at the altar. The consequences could be… severe.

You Win Some, You Lose Everything Else

He was too late.

He was always too late.

Ronald Weasley was scurrying across the streets of London, his tuxedo half buttoned, sweat rolling down his brows, and his hair looking like he had slicked it back in flobberworm mucus. He ran up up the marble staircase of the Ministry Atrium and skidded around the corner, practically losing his shoe as he did so.

He panted, going around the corner to the room he was headed for, and his heart sank into his stomach. The room was empty, save for Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had his arm around Hermione's shoulders as she cried into his chest, his family, who was cleaning up the decorations.

Percy Weasley stormed up to him as Ronald stood panting and heaving at the doorway. "I may be a pompus git," Percy said with disgust, "but you are true tosser, Ronald. The one day she asks you to be on time. What was your excuse this time, idiot? Forget to set the alarm?"

"Shut up, Percy," Ronald snapped. "I had a case to finish up at the Aur—"

"Yes, yes," Percy interrupted. "I'm sure the week off you took for your wedding was just far too boring to let your cases wait around for you."

Ronald paled. "What do you know about—"

Percy shook his head. "I work as a scribe at the Ministry, idiot. Who do you think sorts through the official vacation requests for the Aurors? The owls, perhaps?"

Ronald flushed. "I'm here now!" he protested. "The family can be witnesses—"

Percy held up his hand. "No, I don't think you want to go there, brother, and I loathe to call you that. I think she's finally come to terms with that you love your career more than her."

Ronald reddened. "It's not like that!"

"Oh?" Percy scowled at him. "Found another witch, have you?"

"Y—NO!" Ronald growled, feeling like he was being railroaded into something he wasn't actually guilty of. "The witch was raped, Percy. Raped! I had to finish it. I had to catch him. It was important. Hermione will understand."

"I think Hermione is at the end of understanding, mate," Harry said as he trudged up the aisle. "I told you we knew where that guy was, and we'd take care of it after the wedding. He wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't moved in over ten years. He didn't know we were onto him. You just had to go and be the hero."

"Like you're one to talk," Ron said bitterly.

Harry's eyebrows lifted. "Back to my hero complex, mate?" Harry asked with a shake of his head. "I still managed to make the wedding, Ron. Kingsley made the wedding, for Merlin's sake."

Ron shook his head. "It was important. She couldn't move on without closure. She had to have it! I… I know what that's like!"

Percy scoffed, storming down the aisle to help the rest of the family clean up the decorations. A hundred and some presents were piled by the door, all marked for Hermione and Ronald Weasley. Streamers that Ginny and Hermione had worked on with Molly for over a month were being pulled down. The marvelous wedding cake that George and Angelina had made from scratch beckoned in shining glory on the nearby table, surrounded by small glasses lining up towards a punch fountain. Tables and tables of baked goods and homemade foods lay in stasis charms for a reception that would never come.

Ron winced. There had been hundreds of invitations sent out. Hermione had quilled them all by hand. Ron recognised the waxen seal of the House of Malfoy on one of the packages and scowled. Malfoy and Hermione had made up after the war. She'd forgiven the blond git for the horrible things he had said and the awful things he'd put her through. He had forgiven her for punching him in the face, saying he had deserved it. He imagined that the package contained some Pureblooded custom gift to bless their house. Knowing Malfoy it was a contract for a House Elf or some some rubbish that would piss her off.

"Oi, Potter," a familiar voice called from across the room. "Help me with this banner, aye?"

Ron reddened as he realised that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were working side by side to dismantle his wedding—a wedding he had put the collar of a cold case crime over without a thought.

A dark swath of cloth passed him, and Ron stiffened as he realised it was formal robes worn by none other than Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. Today was supposed to be the big game of Bulgaria versus Ireland in the playoffs, and yet, Viktor too had made it to the wedding.

Ron reddened with a deeper shade of shame. He hadn't, honestly, expected it to take so long. He had gone to the residence, had it out with the wizard, arrested him. Since he had gone alone, the wizard had clipped him with a hex to the arm, so he had dragged the man back to the office, done the paperwork with one arm, and then went to St Mungo's to have his arm looked at. He hadn't counted on there being such a waiting line at the hospital, so by the time he got out, he was already late. He'd rushed back to the Burrow to dress, and hurried to the ministry right away, but it had been too late. Hours had passed. He had left Hermione at the altar.

As he looked around the room with a growing sense of dread, his heart sank as he watched Viktor Krum wrap his arms around his fiancée, or perhaps ex-fiancée, and offer comfort. For the first time, Ron saw Hermione truly lean into the Bulgarian's embrace. He had made up all kinds of scenarios in his head that put Viktor and Hermione together ever since the Yule Ball, but truthfully, he had never once seen Hermione act out of line with anyone once they were engaged. Now, however, the young witch seemed to realise that Viktor, who had never offered her more than she was willing to take on her own terms, was a far more appealing prospect.

As Ron tried to approach them, Hermione's head lifted and she stared into his face with both tears and fury and settled with an overriding sense of pure disgust.

He was too late.

He always was.

And then Hermione got married to Kingsley and Viktor while giving Ron the middle finger. Ron promptly crawled into a Firewhiskey bottle and never climbed out.

And there was much rejoicing.

The End.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: The last 4 lines were added by my friend Story Please, and I didn't have the heart to take them out. ROFL. I was laughing too hard!