"Merlin, Hermione. You're stunning," Ginny whispered, standing behind her best friend. Hermione grinned.

"You think so? I'm not sure if white is really my color," she said with mock doubt, smoothing the bodice of her gown. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"It's perfect, Hermione. The dress, your hair, the shoes. Everything about today is perfect. Minus the groom; you could so do better," Ginny teased, winking as she fluffed Hermione's veil.

"Okay," Ginny breathed. "You ready to become Mrs. Ron Weasley?" She stuck out in her tongue in disgust. Hermione laughed and took a deep breath in.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.

Moments later, Harry burst in, his cheeks red.

"Erm, Ginny," he said, his voice uneven. "Can I have a word with you?" Ginny followed him out of the room, throwing Hermione a reassuring thumbs up on her way out. Hermione smiled to herself and peered up at the clock. The wedding was to start in exactly four minutes. She sighed, picked up the hand mirror that had belonged to her grandmother, and made sure the tendrils falling from her hair were perfect. But not too perfect.

Now all there was to do was wait.

And Hermione did just that. She didn't want to look at the clock.

Maybe there was just a technical problem. Maybe Ron was having trouble with his tie! He was never very good at dressing up. Ginny was probably tying it for him, giving him one last pep talk before he said 'I do'. Hermione wasn't worried.

Twenty-five minutes after the wedding was meant to begin, Ginny and Harry returned. Ginny looked distressed.

"'Mione," she whispered, taking a step towards her. "We have to–"

"He's gone, isn't he?" Hermione said blankly.

Ginny looked down. There was silence for a few moments.

"Yes, Hermione," Harry spoke up, and then cleared his throat. "We've been looking all over for him but...I think he got cold feet."

Hermione didn't speak. She really didn't have anything to say. She just sat on the couch behind her. Ginny hurriedly sat beside her.

"Hermione...," she said tentatively. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, Ginny," Hermione replied. Ginny couldn't quite figure out what emotion was shown in Hermione's eyes.

"...You're sure?" Ginny asked in disbelief, raising a ginger eyebrow. Hermione let out a laugh that was much to stiff and sudden to be natural. Harry and Ginny both jumped.

"And besides," she continued, that smile still plastered on her face. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't see this coming. Now! Someone should probably go tell the guests that there will not be a wedding today. I'm going to get out of this ghastly thing." Hermione patted her gown. Harry ran out to bring the bad news to the guests, and Ginny took Hermione's hand.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked quietly. Hermione shook her head.

"No, Ginny. I'm fine. I promise." Ginny stayed still. Hermione gave her a small, more convincing smile. "I promise." she repeated. Ginny gave her one last meaningful look and finally left.

Hermione sat in that spot for a few seconds. She was thinking. Hard.

And then, Hermione Jane Granger went ballistic.

She trashed the entire room, and by the time she was done, it looked like it had been ransacked. She was breathing heavily when she looked up at the mirror in front of her. Less than an hour ago she had been admiring her gown, preparing to get married. Now she was a mess, left at her own wedding, feeling like an idiot in that stupid dress. Finally, she picked up the silver hairbrush that had been her grandmother's, and threw it as hard as she could at the mirror in front of her. It shattered, and her reflection fell to the ground. And so did she.

Sobs racked her body as she sat on the floor, her face in her hands, her gown spread out around her. She stayed there like that for what seemed like forever, and soon she had no more tears. Dry sobs still left her.

She had never felt so betrayed. So embarrassed. What would her parents say when she saw them after? Her other friends? They would pity her. They wouldn't look at her the same. They'd treat her like she was a fragile little child again. The last thing she wanted was to have someone look at her with pity in their eyes.

She heard voices coming towards the door and stood up immediately. She couldn't let anyone see her like that. She was Hermione Granger. She was strong. She panicked and quickly turned on the spot, apparating to her flat. She knew once they realized she wasn't there, they would come looking for her at her place, so Hermione made a quick decision.

She shimmied out of her dress, tossing it on her bed, and threw on a t-shirt and sweat pants. She pulled her biggest suitcase of the top shelf in her closet and dropped it right on top of the gown. With a deep breath she began pulling clothes from her dresser. She didn't bother to re-fold them when she threw them haphazardly into the suitcase.

When she had filled it to it's limit, she grabbed her huge black leather bag that she had never used. It had been a Christmas gift that simply wasn't her style, but, boy, was it useful now. She used one hand to hold it open and the other to push all of the hair products and makeup into it. There was still room, thank Merlin, so she kneeled in her closet and stuffed her shoes into the seemingly bottomless bag.

And on she went, grabbing little things that she would need. She didn't know how long she would be gone. Hell, she didn't even know where was going. She just wanted out.

Her last stop was the kitchen. She was shoving granola bars into her pockets when she heard a knock on the door.

"Hermione?" the voice called. Shit, Hermione cursed in her head. That'll be Ginny and Harry. Now in panic mode, she took one last look at her kitchen and paused. She eyed the bottle of white wine on her counter, the six pack of Firewhiskey. They were supposed to be for the honeymoon. With a growl, she seized the alcohol and brought it to her room, where she buried them under the clothes in her suitcase.

She could hear Ginny banging on the door, obviously worried. Hermione stopped zipping the suitcase for a moment. Maybe she should go open the door, let Ginny comfort her, and let herself cry.

But another call from Ginny knocked some sense into Hermione, and she continued with the zipper, shaking her head. Finally, she shrugged on a zip up sweatshirt and pulled the black bag onto her shoulder.

All of the adrenaline was turning into a killer headache, so she headed for the bathroom. The banging on the door was making Hermione more eager to leave. She ruffled through the medicine cabinet until she found the painkillers and went to open them when she froze.

"Hermione, I know you are in there. I'm coming in!" Ginny called. The door creaked open.

Hermione smacked her head. Why didn't she lock the door? She stuffed the bottle of pills into the pocket of her sweatshirt and slid into her room just in time to grasp the handle of her suitcase. And then she apparated the hell out of there.

All Ginny saw was an empty bedroom.