A/N: Hi everyone! This is a segmented time-line sorta-style sequel to my one-shot "Lightning" published a few months ago. I am still in the process of writing it but I have what I feel will be the majority written out. I thought I may as well post a chapter to see how y'all react to it.
As per "Lightning" I am trying to keep this relatively inline with canon. Obviously with the up-coming release of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child things will deviate. BUT basically it aims to fit along mostly with what we know from the books, with my spin of course.
So here it is. There is adult language used in this chapter and throughout the story; consider yourself warned. Adult themes are on the way also.

Also, I really do appreciate positive or constructive reviews; no flamers please. If you don't like the topics or scenarios, don't read it.
Otherwise; enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own rights to any of these known characters, stories or songs. These have been borrowed to bring to life the stories that they have inspired in my imagination.

2004

The day was shaping up perfectly thanks to a cool change in weather, hinting at a mild autumn to come. The mid-morning sunshine illuminated the lush green grass surrounded by trees bursting with flowers and vines laden with fruit. Hermione Granger was still, standing by the window of her lush suite, watching as the final preparations for the day were made to the house lawn and gardens of the vineyard. As she watched, a silver fox darted from behind a nearby shrub, making towards the safety of the nearby woods. It stopped briefly, turning its head back towards the hollow it had abandoned, before setting off in search of new shelter. The vineyard belonged to the Diggory family, who had graciously offered to host the festivities. Hermione's stomach knotted around a stab of guilt as she reflected on the family's generosity, considering their only child was long since lost to them. They would never be able to host of something like this for him.

The old manor that had once housed the original lords of the area had been converted to a stunning guest house and function hall, catering to the magical communities of Devon and the greater South Western area. The location was also incredibly convenient; the family home of Hermione's soon to be husband was located only a few fields and a farm track away. Though she did hope that her betrothed would not be traipsing through the long grass in his new robes.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought of her red-headed beau. Their relationship had been far from smooth sailing, but things were beginning to fall into place. Ever since Hermione had returned from her Australian sabbatical earlier this year, their lives seemed to flow and fit together better. She was thankful that he had finally a career path that he was satisfied with. Upon her return from Down Under, he had surprised her with the news that he had resigned from the Auror office after a two year stint, sighting that the stress was not good for his mental health. Instead he had decided to return to his brother's side as co-manager of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The change was certainly better than a holiday for him, and the two brothers continued to grow their company exponentially. Ron's magical skills certainly were improving each week thanks to George's influence.

Hermione felt more at peace than she had in a long time. But the nervous jitters were pervasive. She didn't have cold feet, per se, but Hermione Granger's mind held onto faint disquiet hinting that things would not always be this easy. She had overcome her fair share of hardships, even in her 25 years; however it was hard to not be caught off guard ever so often. A knock at the door cut though her train of thought. Her mother walked into the room carrying a bunch of white rose buds.

"Darling, these just arrived for you," Mrs Granger announced as she entered the room. "My goodness you look beautiful." She added, admiring her daughter dressed in her ivory form fitting wedding gown completed with a flowing pale-golden tulle mermaid skirt. "Oh Hermione, I am so happy for you." Hermione's recently reacquainted mother smiled genuinely at her daughter. Hermione struggled to express the joy she felt now that her parents were back in her life after a long, magically induced, absence. They had kept their distance at first, but their relationship with their daughter was back on track. She felt that the excitement of their only child's wedding had helped seal their acceptance.

Hermione's bridal party, consisting of Ginny Potter, Luna Lovegood and Fleur Weasely, surged through the open door. The three witches looked stunning in their scarlet off-the-shoulder tea-length dresses with golden lace overlay on the skirt. Hermione was pleased with her choice.

"Who sent you the flowers 'Mione?" Asked the ever curious Ginny.

"I-I don't know," stuttered Hermione, reaching for the card her mother held out to her.

Hermione,
I wish you the best today.
I am thinking of you,
Always.
X

Fuck. Hermione gaped at the parchment in her hands. It had been eight months since she had spoken to her secret admirer. How did he know that she was getting married today? How did he know where she would be? Of course that horrid Rita Skeeter would be to blame for most of this. The awful journalist's near stalking tendencies towards the Golden Trio had increased of late. Hermione reminded herself for such frivolous details to be considered news it indicated that the affairs of the magical world were peaceful.

"Well 'Ermione, 'oo sent you ze roses?" Asked Fleur, her accent had not lessened despite the years that she had spent residing in the UK.

"They are from an old friend," the bride said, conjuring a vase to host the array before finally taking them from her mother. The instant her hands touched the flowers, the once pristine white buds blossomed into stunning cobalt blue roses. A chorus of appreciative sounds followed as the women admired the magical display.

"Krumm. They are from Viktor Krumm," she added, blushing. The cover story sprung forward before much thought, Hermione hoped that her friends would not smell a rat.

"Viktor was so very sad that 'ee could not be 'ere today, 'Ermione. 'Ow lovely of 'im," Fleur gushed.

"How lovely." Cooed Ginny as she rested her hands on her growing belly subconsciously. She chuckled at the thought of her play-boy former sporting opponent making such a sweet gesture. Hermione smiled at her friend, thoughts of the niece or nephew that was growing inside of her soon to be sister in law flooded her heart. Hermione had been long been considered a part of family she was about to join officially. This is who she belonged with. These were her people.

But still, memories of the night spent with true floral benefactor crept into Hermione's consciousness. The disquiet was growing louder. The thought thankfully did not have much of a chance to fester as young Victoire Weasley, adorable in her golden flower girl tutu ensemble, entered the room to inform the bridal party that the guests were all seated. The show was about to begin. Hermione focused her mind on the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle she was about to descend.

The other women followed Victoire to the foyer by the door to the gardens, but Luna remained behind, loitering by the flowers. "These smell devine. What a beautiful display of Magirosa splendosa. Such a rare species. It was very thoughtful of Mr Krumm, but also a peculiar colour choice." Luna hummed.

"What do you mean Luna?" Probed the nervous bride.

"Oh nothing really… But blue roses have been thought represent an unattainable or impossible love," she noted in her wispy ethereal tone before exiting to join the others.

Hermione's heart sunk slightly. Draco Malfoy was an extremely intelligent wizard. In addition to the numerous rivalries he represented during their school years, he had also been one of the few that Hermione had considered to be an intellectual counterpart while at Hogwarts. Not that she would have ever admitted that at the time. She knew that this had not been a coincidence.

Hermione shook her head, she had no time to deal with this today. Three deep, calming breaths later, Hermione was standing with the rest of the bridal party, the butterflies that had been in her gut were now the size of hippogriffs. Through the doors she could hear the low commotion from the crowd in the garden but then there was a subtle tap of wood on wood. The music started, the murmuring of the guests died down in response. The group of people assembled in their planned order.

The show must go on.