Hermione sat in her dressing room, staring into the mirror. It was her wedding day and she was surprisingly calm. As she stared into the mirror, memories came to the forefront of her mind, reminding her why she was about to be married.
Flashback
Hermione sat in the library working on a Potions essay. It was rather tiresome and definitely not how she wanted to spend her Saturday afternoon. A shadow suddenly blocked her light. Hermione looked up to find Harry standing in front of her.
"Hello, Harry," she said, smiling at him.Harry said nothing, just pulled out a lavender colored rose and handed it to her. She accepted it and grinned even wider, "It's beautiful," she exclaimed. Wanting to ask the reason he had given her the flower, she looked up. Harry however was nowhere to be seen.
Hermione smiled fondly at the memory. At the time she had no clue what the rose had meant, though now she did. More memories washed over her.
Flashback
"I can't believe you two would do that! Can't you remember anything from Astronomy?" she stomped her foot in frustration. "Every time you guys don't remember anything, you come to me! 'Let us see your paper, Mione, just a peek' ! Well, no more! I'm done letting you look at MY work!" she huffed angrily.
Ron had cowared in a big red arm chair while Harry stared at her through his glasses thoughtfully. When she had finished her rage, Ron sat up and muttered something incoherent and began working on his paper. Before Harry began his, he pulled out his wand.
"You're right, 'Mione." He conjured up a pink rose and handed it to her. "It's time I at least didn't take you for granted," he said.
To her, that rose was the best, even better than any other out there. It had made her feel like she was appreciated. Later she came to find out that the pink rose meant exactly that, appreciation.
Flashback:
Dean Thomas and Hermione had been going out for awhile. Everyone knew it. A few of the girls were even jealous. About a month after they had started dating, Hermione recieved an owl in the middle of the crowded common room. She let in the owl, who held a blue rose and a note. "Your unattainable now," it read. She did not recognize the hand writting, but knew who it was from. The rose had given him away. Her eyes searched the common room, but he was no where in sight. The day after Harry had sent her the rose, Dean broke it off with her. They had a huge fight over who the rose was from, and Dean didn't like the idea of some strange bloke sending his girlfriend flowers. Of course Hermione never told him who sent it.
Hermione sighed thoughtfully at that particular memory. If she had known at the time that Harry and sent it with the initial intention of breaking her and Dean up, she would have hexed him into the next century! Only after the two had gotten out of school and Harry defeated Voldemort did he tell her he had sent it with that particular intention in mind. When she found out about it, she laughed. It seemed so absurd, to do something like that, but the incident had happened so long ago, it didn't matter anymore.
Flashback:
The snow on the ground shone pearly white. It had yet to be touched by human or magical beings and looked almost heavenly. Hermione stared out the window of her dorm longingly. The winter ball for 7th years was begining in an hour, but Hermione was not ready. She still had to do her hair and finish her makeup, leaving barely enough time to change into her white halter top dress robe. An hour and ahalf later, she made her way to the Great Hall, white star flowers in her loose curls. She entered, looking around at the Christmas decor. Trees lined the perimiter of the Great Hall, leaving only a gap for the doors. Blue, red, white, and green lights were strung everywhere. The room was truly breathtaking.
"Hey, Hermione. You look beautiful tonight," Harry said, making her jump slightly. She hadn't seen him come over to her.
"Thank you. You look handsome as well," she said.
Harry pulled a dark red rose from behind his back, "For you," he told her, tucking it behind her ear. "The unconscious beauty of the night."
Hermione wasn't sure, but she believed that Christmas was when she had started falling for her best friend.
Flashback:
Harry was nervous, Hermione could tell. What about, she had no clue. He wouldn't tell her. It was very late and they were the only two in the common room. She gave a yawn and closed her book.
"Well, I'm off to bed," she stood. "Night, Harry,"
She recieved and absent 'night' in response. Shaking her head at him, she made her way to her dorm. Being Head Girl had its perks. She didn't have to share with anyone. She opened her door and froze at the sight before her. The bed, floor, and everywhere inbetween was filled with orange roses. She wrinkled a brow, trying to figure out the meaning of them. Of course, Harry wasn't going to tell her.
The room had smelled like fresh flowers for three weeks after that bright idea of his. Untill that point she had never though Harry as a romantic. Her point of view had certianly changed right after that.
Flashback:
Hermione walked along the corridors, close to the wall. The other students crowded her as she made her way to Transfiguration.As soon as she walked in she noticed something was amiss. Everyone was gathered around a single desk, whispering in excitement. As she got closer, the reason for the gathering was clear. On top of the desk were one dozen yellow red tipped roses with a note saying "For Hermione Granger". She smiled and smelled them, feeling the look of jealousy the other girls gave her. She searched and caught Harry's eye, smiling.
Hermione stood now, getting more excited with each passing moment. Soon, she would be walking down the isle, to her new life, new name.
Flashback:
Hermione stood outside, the cool air making her shiver slightly. Harry had owled her and asked her to wait for him after work. He had something to show her. They had been dating for over a year, getting together at the end of their 7th. He had finally gotten the nerve to stop sending her roses ( not that she didn't enjoy them) and tell her his true feelings. Hermione smiled as Harry's warm arms came around her. He kissed her cheek.
"So, 'Mione, how was work?" he was making polite conversation, working up to what he really had her waiting for. It was getting dark, the sunset just making its way below the horizon.
"Fine, Harry, just fine. But I swear if you don't tell me why you have me waiting in the cold for you, I'm going to-" she stopped as he turned her around.
In his hands was a single red rose. Attached to the rose was a ring. It had a solid gold band and a star shaped diamond in the center. Noticing her lack of speech, he jumped in.
"Hermione Granger, I love you. Will you marry me?"
Too stunned to speak, she nodded.
Hermione placed her veil onto her hair carefully. The plans for the wedding had taken almost two years. Well, one actually. But the last one, she had been mourning.
Flashback:
On the couch in a downtown London flatt sat a balled up figure. It sobbed and hiccuped, followed by more sobs. Harry felt his heart go out to the woman he loved on the couch. Her parents were both gone. Her father had died just after their last year in school and now, her mother had passed in some freak accident involving a train. Harry went and placed his arms around Hermione. He comforted her with his actions, not words. He made her stand and then turned, giving the sensation of being squeezed.
"Hermione, look up," he said quietly. She did so and saw a graveyard.
"Harry, wha-?" she let the question hang as he point to the ground next to them. She saw her mother's grave and fresh tears came.
"I brought you here to say good-bye to your mother," he produced three black roses and placed t hem in her hand. At her questioning gaze, he explained. "Black means goodbye, or farewell. You can leave them on her grave when your finished." He walked away to give her some privacy.
A knock sounded on the door. "Hermione? You in there?" a voice that souded suspiciously like Lavender's called.
"Yes, I'll be right out," she answered. She checked herself one last time and grabbed her boquet of white roses. She walked out into the church lobby, awaiting her cue. Once that music started, she would be in heaven. Her perfect heaven.
A/N: Please review... And for those reading "It's Not Over Yet", chapter 7 will be up soon.. promise. I'm waiting on it to come back.