Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and it's characters belong to J.K Rowling.
Warnings: This is currently rated T for dashes of colourful language here and there. As the story progresses these warnings may be subject to change.
Even in the darkest of times, hope can be found. The hope of building a life with someone. The hope of making a difference in war. The hope of seeing the next sunrise.
The days seemed to both drag and rush them towards an uncertain oblivion, though that may have been due to the fear that gripped them all. Everyone knew that no matter what the end would bring, life would change inexorably.
Perhaps that was why, in amongst planning for Harry's relocation and fighting minor skirmishes, Bill and Fleur's wedding was so eagerly looked forward to.
It seemed that anyone who had ever had any contact with the bride and groom would attend, and Mrs Weasley had planned the event down to the last dessertspoon.
As the wedding day inched ever closer, the entire Weasley family – including the recently arrived Harry and Hermione – had been hustled into preparation mode.
With the garden weeded, pruned and de-gnomed, the house re-painted, and the marquee and Apparition points set up, everyone was feeling overworked and in much need of relaxation.
The Weasley siblings and Harry had begun a game of 3-on-4 Quidditch in the lower paddock, and even Arthur and Molly had taken time out to sunbathe and cheer on whichever side was currently winning.
The only person not relaxing was Hermione.
In the few moments she had free from cleaning, baking, and assisting with decorations, she had been busy making preparations of her own. As optimistic as she may be, logic and realism always won out. She would not leave anything to chance, not with so much to lose.
It was not in her nature to shy away from the hard choices that logic demanded. Obliviating her parents was certainly testament to that. Her whole life gone in the blink of an eye. To them she had never been born. Birthdays, Christmases, Sunday afternoons.
She was now the sole receptacle of a lifetime's worth of family memories. Her parents now had a different past, one that she had no part in.
She hoped it would be enough to keep them safe.
Her focus had to be on Harry and Ron now.
She had been packing for days, whenever she had been alone and could risk being caught. Ginny had come close once, and Hermione suspected that she knew their plans to leave. If Harry had not told her, well, Ginny was always the perceptive type, and sharing a room meant that hiding anything important was a nigh on impossible task.
Her own belongings had already been packed, her books sorted into alphabetised stacks in the bottom of her bag, and basic first aid potions stocked. The tent and sleeping bags had been stuck in from the attic, where the family ghoul had been very pleased to see her, and anything else she had deemed suitable was quietly borrowed on her nightly excursions to the bathroom.
All she had left to pack were Harry and Ron's personal items. Clothes, toothbrushes, Harry's invisibility cloak. Those items would have to wait until just before the wedding, as she had yet to inform the boys of her head start on packing.
She still hoped it would not be needed.
OoXoO
The wedding had gone off without a hitch. The bride was beautiful, the groom was dashing, the guests cried tears of happiness, and nothing untoward was caused by the Weasley twins. This, of course, made everyone more suspicious than ever.
After Hermione had performed a Specialis Revelio charm on her smoked salmon blini to check for 'hexes, charms, and things that shouldn't be there', the rest of the guests had wisely adopted her initiative. Mrs Weasley had insisted that the food had been under her watchful eye all day and the twins hadn't been near it, but it seemed nobody was willing to take that chance; especially after the first guest that ate an orange macaroon biscuit sprouted a duck bill and began to quack the national anthem.
Fred and George, having had their food prank thwarted, were busy preparing for phase two of the night's revelries. They had slipped off in the middle of the drunken and steadily incomprehensible speeches given by both the father of the groom and the father of the bride, in order to set up an array of their specialty fireworks.
Fred crouched in a darkened corner of the marquee, waiting to give the signal to George, who was positioned outside to light the fuses. As the merriment dragged on, he found his gaze scan over the crowd until it came to settle on the form of Hermione Granger.
Standing with Harry and Ron, and in deep conversation with Loony Lovegood and her eccentric father, the petite witch outshone her companions. Her figure hugging lilac dress accentuated curves that Fred had never noticed beneath her usual baggy Muggle clothes or loose robes, and the knee length bared her shapely legs and creamy skin. He couldn't help but appreciate how her teenage years had been kind to her.
A loud cough from behind him pulled his attention back to the task at hand, and he shook his head free from thoughts of a less than appropriately dressed bookworm.
'Fred!' George hissed, 'What's taking so bloody long?'
'Sorry mate, got distracted,' said Fred, blushing slightly. He was thankful that his brother couldn't see him from behind the thin canvas of the marquee.
'Well, pay attention. Have they started dancing yet?' George asked.
Fred looked over to the dance floor where Bill and Fleur were stepping up to their first dance, hand in hand.
'Just about. Better light the fuses now,' said Fred.
He heard a mumbled 'Incendio,' and a moment later George crawled under the canvas and sat on his haunches next to Fred, a wicked grin threatening to split his face in half. Fred shot back an identical grin, and in one fluid motion they split up to mingle in amongst the gathered guests.
The hired band struck up a popular wizard-wedding tune, and the newlyweds began to spin gracefully on the dance floor to collective sighs from the guests.
Loud bangs from the garden alerted Fred and George to their success, and the two brothers sent each other looks of satisfaction through the crowd, as the night sky was lit up in a dazzling display.
OoXoO
Hermione had to hand it to Fred and George. They certainly knew how to make a scene. After their rather impressive fireworks, she found herself appreciating their inventive skill and impeccable timing. They had set the fireworks off precisely at the moment Bill and Fleur had finished their first dance. All the guests had thought it was a planned part of the ceremony, and the walls of the marquee had been removed so the view could be easily seen and the fireworks admired thoroughly.
Harry had muttered to Hermione that Fred and George could have brought an entire swarm of Death Eaters upon them by advertising their location, but luckily for the twins, the night air remained undisturbed.
Mrs. Weasley was too happy with the wedding to do much more than frown in the young men's direction, whilst Mr. Weasley held back a laugh and proceeded to pull his wife on to the golden dance floor, spinning her around and eliciting a girlish giggle from the generally tight-laced woman.
Ron had pulled Hermione off to dance when Victor Krum had settled himself at their table, and she watched over Ron's shoulder as Harry spoke to Krum in soft discussion.
She felt a flash of irritation with her dance partner for having dragged her away from the conversation; she hadn't seen Victor in years and felt some guilt over having lost contact with him. She wondered if jealousy was the cause of Ron's sudden desire to dance, but brushed the thought off. Ron had never made any move to initiate a relationship with her, no matter how often she may have wished for it.
Luna was dancing beside Hermione and Ron, looking as if she were batting insects around her head and seemingly lost in a daydream. George had pulled one of the Veela cousins on to the dance floor and was busy showing her some rather odd moves of his own, and Ginny was swaying side to side with Lee Jordan, a glass of something that was certainly not pumpkin juice in her hand.
As the night drew on, the couples dancing around them had either bowed out gracefully or had became gradually more gregarious and flamboyant. Hermione herself had begged off dancing and sat down at an empty table, leaving Ron to dance with Luna, who seemed very surprised to have a dancing partner.
Looking for Harry, Hermione spotted his disguised form talking to an elderly wizard, and she decided against interrupting his conversation with the man.
Lost in her thoughts, she startled as a figure sat down in the chair beside her.
'Hullo, Hermione,' Fred greeted, grinning from ear to ear and looking flushed from dancing.
'Hello, Fred. You look like you've been enjoying yourself,' she said with a smile, taking in his ruffled hair and the mischievous glint in his eyes.
'And you look far too lonely over here by yourself, miss Granger.'
'So you thought you would cheer me up, did you?'
'The thought did cross my mind. You look smashing in that dress by the way,' he said, waggling his eyebrows at her and leaning in to whisper in her ear.
'Flatterer,' she said, giving him a small smile and pushing him away, 'Whatever it is you want, don't think you can butter me up. We all know the fireworks were down to you and George.'
'Added a nice touch to the evening, don't you think?' he said with a smirk, 'So what do you say, have a dance with me?'
'I don't know that I've had enough to drink to take up an offer like that, Fred,' she teased.
Fred's smile dropped slightly, 'I'm only asking for a dance, Hermione. You're the prettiest girl here you know, stun me if I wanted people to see you on my arm.'
She raised an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips. 'Now I know you must be up to something, it can't possibly have escaped your notice that there are Veela in the room. George has certainly taken up the challenge of gaining their attention most admirably,' she said, her tone dry and acerbic.
Fred began to fidget in his seat, and she had the sinking feeling that she had missed something. Looking around the room, she saw Ron still dancing with Luna, his arm wrapped around her waist and Luna appearing quite comfortable with the situation. A glance in George's direction confirmed that he was shooting looks at his twin in between cracking jokes with no less than three Veela cousins.
Glancing back at Fred, she finally summed up his intentions.
'Don't worry about it Hermione,' he said awkwardly, 'It was a stupid thought after all. You're my little brother's mate. Just forget about it.' He stood up to walk away and she grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards her.
If he was willing to dance with her to take her mind off Ron, she would not embarrass him by turning him down. Hesitantly, she pasted on a small smile and looked him in the eyes.
'Perhaps I could go for another drink. Would that be all right to start with?'
Fred nodded and made his way to the bar, giving George a wink on his way past that Hermione failed to notice.
OoXoO
'The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.'
Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice reverberated through the assembled guests, and as his graceful lynx Patronus evaporated into the air, chaos broke out. Harry found Hermione first, grabbing her and pulling her out of her stunned trance. She reacted quickly and began searching among the crowd for Ron. She spotted a shock of red hair, its owner's face obscured by a group of older witches. Pushing through the group, she reached forward blindly and grasped his hand tightly within her own. He squeezed back forcibly and turned to face her. She turned on the spot and Apparated the three of them away just as she caught the look on his face.
It wasn't Ron.