A Romione Wedding
Molly Weasley smiled tearfully, playing with Hermione's lace veil and looking at their reflection in the free-standing mirror. "You look beautiful, dear."
"Thanks, Molly. For everything." Hermione said, bringing back painful memories of her unsuccessful search for her true parents. For months, she and Ron had scoured Australia for Hermione's parents, but in vain. Though she missed them dearly, it's needless to say Molly had taken Hermione under her wing and was as much of a daughter to her as Ginny was. Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears, but with a deep breath and a long upwards stare kept her make-up from running down her face.
Molly trapped Hermione in a tight hug, as was Molly's style. "Oh, I've made your dress go all squew-wiff..."
"It's fine, Molly, honestly-" Hermione protested as Molly tried to make it perfectly straight again.
"There. I've got to the church now dear, but Ginny and Arthur will be here any minute." Molly clutched Hermione's hands and smiled giddily. "Good luck, darling!" And with that, Molly scampered from the room.
God knows Hermione wasn't vain, but she couldn't help but smile when she looked in the mirror. Her frizzy hair was tamed into summery waves, her make-up was perfected to hide every tiny flaw and her vintage style ivory dress was so beautiful it even rivalled Fleur's. She managed half a twirl before Ginny came in.
Ginny was the only bridesmaid, and wore a knee-length golden dress that shimmered with her every move. She gasped at the sight of Hermione and began jogging on the spot with excitement. "You look gorgeous!" she squealed, running over to Hermione.
"Thanks," she smiled, modestly. This whole admiration thing was completely alien to Hermione: the only thing it could be compared to was the Yule Ball. A much quieter Arthur Weasley stood by the door. He smiled, but he looked almost sad. "Are you alright?"
He nodded. "Just recollecting. I just don't know where the time went. What happened to that twelve-year-old, fuzzy-haired little girl we met to Diagon Alley."
Immediately, Hermione walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Arthur."
He blushed a little, but quickly moved on. "Ready?"
"Ready." echoed Hermione.
Hermione took a deep breath, feeling slightly dizzy as she stood behind the large oak doors that separated her from her marriage.
"Nervous?" asked Ginny quietly.
Hermione nodded her head vigorously. "Just wait till you and Harry get hitched."
"Steady on! He hasn't even proposed yet." Though she'd never mention it, Hermione picked up on the disappointment in Ginny's voice, and saw her playing with her bare fourth finger.
Arthur took Hermione's arm in his and gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand. He should be used to being at his children's weddings, with the number they had, but this one seemed more emotional than most. Perhaps because it felt like Hermione was his daughter, and that he was letting two of his children leave the nest.
With only the first note of an organ as warning, the doors swung open and revealed Hermione, Arthur and Ginny to the congregation. In traditional style, Hermione walked down the aisle to "Here comes the bride" as the guests gawped at Hermione's grace and beauty. She focused on the glowing arc that framed Ron and left a place for her. She started to worry that she was going to faint when she noticed how fuzzy it was, and that it seemed to be moving slightly. But then, in a moment of over whelming joy and astonishment, she realised what she was looking at. An arc made up of tiny balls of light.