AN: Greetings, fair readers. I cannot be sure where I plan to end with this story but I do promise that I have it outlined so far about ¾ of the way through. Though, you know as well as I do how finicky characters tend to be, especially, ahem, established characters. They just make so many demands. Well, do enjoy, and let me know how you think it's going. I'll update once a week. I'm also considering doing the "grown-up" scenes over at adult fanfiction…we'll see.

Chapter 1

Hermione tried to stand with her head high. It was on her House pride that she held it up. She knew she was shaking like a leaf. She stood in an amphitheater, being jeered and mocked at by a sea of Death Eaters. Ginny stood beside her, pale and trembling. Hermione squeezed her hand, but offered no words of comfort. What could she say? They were wandless, defenseless, out numbered. She was very aware of the empty throne at their backs, and who would occupy it. Once He did, then the festivities would start, she was sure. Every hair on the back of her neck was prickled, her senses tingling.

She had no concrete evidence, but she thought she had an idea of what Death Eater festivities may include. Nothing that came to mind ended well for her or Ginny. Hermione gave her head a sharp shake. No tears. Tears would only make her look weaker, and give them more to ridicule. She was a Gryffindor. Harry had met his death bravely. She would too. When the hisses from the assembled Death Eaters ceased, her breath caught, and she could feel Ginny's finger's digging into her hand, and she heard a soft rustle of robes. Hermione dared to glance behind her, and wished she hadn't, as if not looking would make it less real.

Voldemort was now lounging in the throne, flicking his wand lazily, flanked by a few of his followers. Her eyes met his scarlet ones for a moment. The fear she felt was overwhelming, and she felt her courage slipping away like sand through her fingers, no matter how she struggled to hold onto it. His face was a pale unreadable mask; the red eyes and snake-like features made her feel like she was looking upon a demon. Or Satan himself. She heard Ginny's breath quicken beside her.

"How dare you filthy mudblood look upon the Dark Lord! Crucio!" Hermione noticed Bellatrix Lestrange for the first time, and her manic, furious expression, a moment before the curse hit her. She hit the icy marble floor, the searing pain of the curse ripping through her body, alighting every nerve on fire. Perhaps the curse was stronger than the last time she had been tortured by it, or maybe her head smacked against the marble as she fell, all she knew was that the world was fading to black, and the pain, blessedly, was fading as her consciousness did.

Two months earlier.

Hermione held Ron's gaze, her eyes filling with tears. His brows furrowed and he gave her a soft smile, and she knew that he felt the same pangs as she did. Professor McGonagall joined their hands and softly spoke the binding.

"Is there any reason why these two should not be wedded?" The words were more a formality than anything; only half a dozen people were present, and most were Order members. No one spoke against it. Luna Lovegood looked serene, as if this was a perfectly normal wedding. Hermione tried to imagine that this was as she dreamed it would be, that she was in a white wedding dress, standing outside the Burrow, her father having just walked her down the aisle, Harry standing at Ron's side, grinning at them. She opened her eyes and the reality was stark. She was getting married in hastily transfigured white robes, at a rundown (though currently charmed rather prettily) safe house somewhere in Wales, and her father had not walked her down the aisle. Her parents were living safe somewhere, obliviated of the knowledge they ever had a daughter, and she had obliviated the knowledge of where they were from her own memory.

She'd never see them again. Her breath hitched and she felt the tears overflow. It seemed that grief never dulled, and like every happiness sharpened it, making both the sorrow and joy acutely felt. Today was painfully bittersweet, her parents gone…and Harry, dear, Harry. She could almost imagine him there, by their sides, patting Ron's shoulder encouragingly, winking at Hermione. She would have blushed, and Ron would have stood up a little straighter. Harry would never see them though. He was gone, vanquished by Voldemort at the last battle at Hogwarts, a prophecy fulfilled. So many had been lost that day, so many sacrifices. Professor Snape had been killed. Tonks and Lupin were both gone. Their son Teddy was left an orphan, without even his Godfather Harry.

Then there was Neville, he had been so brave, rushing at Nagini with the sword of Gryffindor, only to be caught unaware by the killing curse at his back.

Hermione met Ron's eyes again, casting the pain to the back of her mind, and she smiled softly back at him. He brushed the tears from her face, and she realized he was crying too. She felt a fierce wave of love for him in that moment, that Ron was crying unashamedly. Professor McGonagall finished the spell that would marry them and a white light surrounded Hermione and Ron's clasped hands, "your wands, please." Ron and Hermione both brought out their wands and from the tips of each of their wands two streaks of white light emerged after they repeated the incantation. The light brightened, then knotted around each other. As it faded, Minerva smiled at them, "I now pronounce you man and wife, and bound for life. Mr. Weasley, you may kiss your bride."

Ron leaned forward to kiss her, and he was blushing. His lips touched hers in a soft, tentative kiss.

"Bloody hell Ron! Kiss your wife right, or do I have to show you how to properly?" George broke the silence. There were a few chuckles, and Ron turn to glare at his brother. Hermione eyed the golden balloons George had strung up above them. Apparently that kiss wasn't enough to cause to balloons to celebrate.

"Do you mind?" Ron hollered, then turned back to Hermione, and looked a bit nervous. "Ah hell, I forgot the rings!" Digging into his robes Ron pulled out two plain gold wedding bands. Slipping his on quickly, her slid hers on slowly, retaining her hand. "There. Now I'll kiss you proper," he whispered. He pulled her to him and kissed her enthusiastically.

The golden balloons popped and tiny golden bells, and birds of paradise began to fly around the room, singing and ringing. Hermione forgot for a moment that everyone was watching them and kissed him back, deepening the kiss, and falling into his embrace. A cough from behind them broke them apart. Professor McGonagall looked slightly embarrassed. George and Bill let out hoots, and Luna, Fleur, and Ginny were clapping. Hermione smiled at them, letting the glow of happiness come over her. Ginny's eyes were watering, and Fleur looked lovely even as her tears flowed. Luna was throwing seeds at them, smiling. Ron looked like he was going to complain, but then just shook his head, shaking the seeds out of his hair. Hermione was tempted to ask why the seeds, but knew the answer would be nonsensical and probably just frustrate her. She just thanked Luna, who nodded,

"They're Periwinkle seeds. They'll keep away the Fargles for at least two months. Fargles love to cause mischief for newlyweds, you know." Hermione just thanked her again. She wasn't going to argue on her wedding day. Ginny rushed to her side and embraced her,

"We're really sisters now." Hermione hugged her back.

"I like the sound of that. Being an only child isn't that fun you know."

"You might miss it after being related to this lot for the rest of your life," Ginny gestured towards Bill and George. Charlie hadn't been able to leave his new hatchlings, but had sent a gift. Hermione had been suspicious of the obviously dragon-egg shape of the present. Percy was conspicuously absent, though he had sent a card full of seemingly sincere well wishes. She supposed it was hard to integrate back into the family so quickly after years of estrangement. Fred, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley hadn't survived the battle. Their absence was a heavy weight. Hermione realized with a start that she was Mrs. Weasley now. She was brought abruptly out of her thoughts as George swept her off her feet in a bear hug,

"Only happy thoughts today, little sister." She hugged him back tightly. He was right. She poked his side,

"So what pranks have you planned for our reception?" George gave her a look of surprise, his eyes wide and innocent, too innocent.

"Why, I would never!" Hermione glared at him, then grinned.

"Do your worst." Ron groaned from behind her.

"Oh, good call 'Mione, just give him permission to ruin the reception." Ron was scowling at his brother but she could tell Ron was enjoying himself. It was nice to banter; it made everything seem so normal. Fleur kissed her cheeks excitedly,

"Welcome to zee family 'ermione," Hermione kissed her back after a moment of hesitation, "come, let's go outback, I 'ope you like ze decorations I made, ze are so pretty!"

Bill gave Hermione a quick side hug, and kissed one cheek.

"Fleur couldn't help herself, I'm afraid she made every cake in mom's old recipe book. Though I think Ginny saved most of them from being burnt. Hope you like sweets." Hermione's eyes widened. If she remembered correctly, that had been a very thick recipe book…there was absolutely no way she could eat that much. Fleur was beckoning them to follow her outside now, her face lit up with excitement. At Bill's words, Ron about shot out the door, eagerly dragging her along.

Fleur hadn't been exaggerating. Her decorations were pretty—more than that—they were beautiful. They were tiny, exquisite works of art floating around the backyard. Bubbles were floating across the yard, images of dancers inside them. Small, glowing crystals were strung from the house to a large Oak tree, having for a moment the charm of muggle Christmas lights. They jumped though, from line, to line, creating little auroras of color. Ginny stood beside her, caught up in the display of lights and bubbles too.

"This makes all my ideas for the reception seem like a 1st years attempt at charms," she huffed, though her eyes were still glued above. Ginny finally looked away and said, "come on, there's more to see." Ginny pulled her hand toward the dessert table. It was overwhelming.

Bill had not exaggerated one bit. There were at least a dozen different cakes spread across a table that had be transfigured to be as long as the house. Most of the cakes were towers of different colors, frostings, some had strawberries, blueberries, others chocolates, dark and milk, there were cakes with nuts, some with sprinkles, charmed cakes that sparkled or had small figurines in constant pirouettes, a cake made of rainbow cupcakes. In the middle of the table there was a single tiered, plain, Muggle white wedding cake. The figurines atop did not move, or dance, uncharmed. Hermione recognized them though.

They were the same toppers her parents had had. She had shown Ginny the memory once of her house, and had shown her the curio cabinet where the toppers were kept, gathering dust, but much loved. Hermione was so touched, overwhelmed by everything. She would be protesting, or embarrassed usually, but she knew in part, the extravagance had to do with the girls needing a distraction, something happy to dwell on. She could not ruin that for them; she needed it just as much. In the middle of being on the run from the Voldemort everyone had paused to come to her and Ron's wedding.

She began to tear up again, touched, and feeling loved. She couldn't seem to stop blubbering tonight.

"Ginny, Fleur, it's so, so lovely-"

There was a loud crack of apparation, and though everyone knew that the location of the house was thrice secure, by wards, a secret keeper, and repelling charms, everyone immediately took a defensive stance. There was not one wand that wasn't at the ready. Bill had placed Fleur behind him, and Ron had immediately been at her and Ginny's side. Luna looked alert for a moment, wand held lightly in her hand, but then decided to finish the cupcake she had begun to nibble on.

"What a greeting. Yes, well, vigilance is good, but lower your wands already. I'm in no mood to be hexed." Aberforth and Hagrid stepped away from each other, and Hagrid looked slightly nauseous from the side-along apparation.

"Bloody never get use to that," he was muttering.

Hermione felt herself flush with embarrassment, and lowered her wand. It seemed everyone's nerves were on high alert. Fred broke the tension by laughing and scratching the back of his head in the trademark sign of Weasley embarrassment. Constant Vigilance, she told herself, feeling her cheeks cool. They couldn't afford to completely forget that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were still looking for them. It had been nearly five months since the final battle; time enough to begin to feel a sense of false security as they hid, of anonymity as they blended in. Hagrid took several lumbering steps over to her and Ron and took them both into his arms in a giant, near-bone-crushing hug. Great, awful noises were coming from him, and as her shoulder dampened, she recognized his sounds as crying.

"Aw, come on now, mate, you're getting my robes all wet!" Ron exclaimed, "It's good and well to see you but I can't breathe!" Hagrid released them then. Hermione held on a moment longer, squeezing the half giant back then let go. She took a stumbling step back to the ground, and smiled up at him.

"It's so good to see you Hagrid!" He was wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, and sniffled,

"I've been so worried! Hadn't seen you two since the—the battle," Hermione could tell it took a monumental effort for him to remain composed then, "everything being as it is now. New laws, restrictions…can't believe a Death Eater is the Minister of Magic now…" Hagrid shook his mane, "now, look at what I've done! Gone and spoiled the mood. It's a wedding! You two are married! Let's celebrate! Oh, bless my heart! Married!" Ginny rushed over to a Muggle-looking record player, and tapping it with her wand a projection hovered above it. It was a hologram of sorts of the Weird Sisters, performing their song "Do the Hippogriff." Hermione pulled Ron towards the record player to dance. Fleur was quick to grab Bill and join them. Ginny looked sad a moment, then giving Hagrid a long contemplative look, brought him out to dance. Aberforth looked a bit sour, and was about to open his mouth when Minerva swatted him across the head.

"Minerva," he bit out.

"Aberforth." She replied pleasantly.

"We didn't travel for nearly four days just to come to a wedding, as much as I wish that was the case."

"Yes, I thought as much. Just give them tonight. They are still so young. I can't help seeing them as my students still." Aberforth watched with faint amusement as Hermione tried to get Ron to stop stepping on her toes as they danced. The dunce wasn't improving a whit.

"Minerva, they more than anyone know the realities of war. It does nobody any good to coddle them. They aren't your students anymore."

"It is because they so clearly know the realities of war that they must have tonight Aberforth, all of them. It's so easy to forget what it is you're fighting for." Aberforth sighed. Minerva was a tough old goat. There was a burst of light and looking up Aberforth could see that the Weasley twin, the remaining one that is, had released miniature fireworks, with silencing spells on them. Clever boy. The wards would of kept the noise in, but he had reduced the risk of exposure.

He heard Minerva gasp and he looked over at her. She had begun to sway to the music, awkwardly, in jagged, uncontrolled movements. He felt his body tingle, and knew he'd just had a jinx cast on him. As he too began to sway to the music, his face twisted in anger,

"WEASLEY!" Four heads immediately turned to look at him. Though only one Weasley held a smug grin on their face. "Take this Jinx off us, now!" Aberforth roared. Everyone was staring at him and Minerva dancing. He knew he was bright red. Red with anger, of course.

"What are you lot staring at!" That seemed to get them back to dancing with their partners, though he felt a few more curious glances thrown his way.

"Aw, now come on, dancing isn't that bad, is it?" George asked, grinning. He looked at Minerva then, "Professor, you don't object to dancing do you?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Weasley, but most definitely—oh—not in this manner." George frowned, a perfect look of contriteness.

"Well, it's a short jinx. It'll end just as soon as this song is over. I just, uh, thought you two should enjoy tonight too. You know, remember what you're fighting for and all." George winked then. Aberforth's eyes grew wide. How had he heard that? Minerva just sighed,

"I do wish you'd stop trying to cause mischief all the time, George."

"Now, I think it's just me being a right matchmaker! I do claim all credit in Hermione and Ron finally-" Aberforth's voice grew brusque and cut him off,

"What are you talking about?" George scratched the back of his head.

"Well, you both have been released from the Jinx for about a minute now and have kept dancing…." They both immediately stopped, and then glared at the red head. George held up his hands in self-defense, "truce! Truce! Here-" he grabbed something from his pocket and tossed it at Aberforth, "extendable ears, my peace offering. Well enjoy the party!" Then he ran over towards the bride and groom, cutting in and swirling Hermione around again. Minerva stayed Aberforth's arm; he was ready to throw a few hexes George Weasley's way. Instead of looking angry, Minerva was chuckling.

"The boy has a point. We shouldn't forget what we're fighting for either."