Chapter 1:

Practice Doesn't Always Make Perfect

Hermione and Ron were getting married tomorrow, and the whole of the Weasley household was in complete chaos as a result. In half an hour, they all needed to be at the venue chosen for tomorrow's reception to attend the rehearsal dinner.

"Will someone iplease/i help me do up this zipper?" cried Ginny for what felt like the hundredth time. She was the maid of honour, and though everyone else had some time to spare before getting ready, busying themselves with other things, she was supposed to be helping dress Hermione as well as herself, and was highly agitated because of it.

"Come here, Ginny," sighed an exasperated Ron. "There you go, no harm done."

As soon as the zip was fully fastened, she disappeared up the stairs once more.

Eventually, with a lot of hustle and bustle, the entire Weasley family, along with Harry and Hermione, were ready. They Apparated, one by one, to the venue.

The venue itself was set by a lake, and was only a five-minute walk from the church. It was a beautiful area, except for one, singularly unattractive, thing.

In the field adjacent to where a huge marquee had been set up, there was a Muggle barn used for storing animals in the winter. It was currently empty. It was not, however, the romantic, thatched type of barn that could often be discovered in Muggle children stories, with rafters of wood, sun shining through the skylight and a weather vane on the top, no, this particular affair held a distinctly modern feel to it, with its metal roof and walls.

Hermione had learned everything she could about the barn, when she begun looking into places for the reception. She had fallen head over heels in love with the clearing by the lake as soon as she saw it. She had been especially attracted by the relaxing sounds of the river that fed the lake, accompanied by the slight rush of wind as it stirred the willow trees on the far bank.

For that reason, she said the barn's presence did not matter, and that the marquee was to face away from the landmark, towards the lake, so people could not see it.

All of the guests were arriving now, babbling excitedly and talking about the following day's wedding. Assembled were what seemed to be the entire Weasley family, most of the Granger family, the Order of the Phoenix, and some other close friends. As people greeted each other, Ron approached Hermione, who had been watching the proceedings.

"Do you want to walk down to the church?" he asked. "Have our own little practice before tomorrow?"

"Sounds great, Ron," she replied. They linked fingers and began to walk.

When they reached the church, they found it open. Ron looked at Hermione and said,

"Come on, let's really practice."

With that, he walked up to the altar. "Right, now you walk down to me like you will tomorrow."

Hermione began to walk, and as she did so, a strange feeling built up inside of her, like nothing she had ever felt before. This did not seem right, this walking. It was awkward and uncomfortable, as if she should not be doing it.

When she finally reached Ron, she looked at him and it hit her. All of a sudden, she had lost the desire to marry him, to be with him, to share his bed. It felt as though someone had reached into her heart and flicked a switch. A switch that had been set to "on" since the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts. Now it was off, and tomorrow seemed more like a curse than a blessing.

Oh, shit! She thought desperately. What the hell I am supposed to do now?

"Sorry, Ron, I have to go…um, nerves, I guess. It feels strange being in here tonight."

"But you said…Hermione!"

"I'm sorry, Ron!"

She jumped up and ran for the door. Outside, she Apparated back to the marquee, but instead of having to face her friends inside, congratulating her and wishing her good luck for tomorrow, she turned on her heel and headed for the barn.

Once she was inside, she shut the heavy sliding door behind her, slid down the wall and cried on the straw. "Oh God, someone help me, please! What do I do?"

She could not hurt Ron by walking out on him...could she? He had been looking forward to this wedding for months. What about Molly? She had put so much effort into getting everything just right. How could she upset her when she had done nothing but be kind and accommodating towards her?

At that very moment, meters away, people were gathering in that marquee, talking animatedly about tomorrow's wedding. She knew in the very core of her heart that she did not have it in her to walk in there right now, and just call out, "Sorry everyone, but I've decided that I know longer want to marry Ron."

She did not know how long she sat there for, crying desperately into her knees, a sound so pitiful anyone who heard would have taken pity on her. Well, almost anyone. She looked up and saw the barn door being pulled silently open.

"And what is the meaning behind all this wailing, Miss Granger? Aren't you supposed to be down in the marquee, celebrating the eve of your wedding with your family and friends?"

Hermione felt her mouth plummet to the floor like a rock. Of all the people who could have found her here, make-up in streaks down her face, her hair in a mess and straw on her dress, this surely was one of the worst-case scenarios.

Hermione's eyes rose from the black polished shoes, up past the knees shrouded in their usual black robes, to the black buttons, the greasy black hair, and the eyes boring into hers. The old Potions Master and reluctant hero of the war, Severus Snape.

"Sir!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I see manners have continued to evade you, Miss Granger. In case you have forgotten, I am still a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and I recall that your invitation was addressed to every existing member. Am I correct?"

He was, of course, but Hermione loathed admitting it. She was shocked to see him there, hardly changed by the war at all.

i In fact, /i she thought to herself, iif I saw a picture of him as he is today, along with images of him throughout the years I have known him, I would be hard pressed to put them in any sort of order. He has not changed a bit./i

"Miss Granger, as lacking in manners as you are, I would have thought that even you would know it is considered rude to stare."

"Yes sir, and although your knowledge is far from lacking, I would have believed you to understand the fact that you will seldom find a woman whose manners are perfect when she is discovered in the middle of an emotional turmoil."

"Oh please, Miss Granger, I hardly think that nerves before a wedding count as emotional turmoil."

"What have I said that gives you the impression that it's nerves about the wedding, and not something more serious?"

"The fact that you are here alone tells me that it is not something you can discuss freely with your maid of honour, and considering that she also happens to be the sister of the groom, I am led to the conclusion that it has something to do with tomorrow or with the groom himself."

"Observant, yet hardly conclusive."

"Well then, Miss Granger, why are you up here?"