Harry and Hermione were the first ones to get married.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. Less than a month after the announcement, George and Win had disappeared for a week and returned with matching silver wedding bands and matching twinkles in their eyes. The best way, George had said sagely, to avoid having to wear some godawful dress robe picked out by Molly Weasley, was to run far far away and avoid the whole process completely.
After that, Harry and Hermione decided they might as well just get on with it so that it was over. Hermione had made Molly promise not to invite anyone but family, or at least the family that she had left. Mostly, it was a whole bunch of Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and Hannah Abbott. Andromeda Tonks with a two year old Teddy Lupin on her lap filled out the rest of the front row with Molly and the other immediate family. Charlie had shown up with his new partner, a tall woman with dark skin and bright eyes, and explained that they had gotten married a day after the law was passed and figured they would never talk about it again. Neither of them, he tried to explain, were very interested in anything much other than dragons anyways. Percy had brought his wife of now more than a year, Penelope Clearwater, and Bill had arrived with Fleur and their daughter, two week old Victoire.
It was a quiet affair. Both Harry and Hermione were still rather wary of crowds, and the more people invited the more there would be about it in the press - something they both wished to avoid if possible. Arthur presided over the ceremony, smiling uncomfortably down at his two not-quite-children as he attempted to say absolutely nothing about love and to only casually imply that this was more or less government coercion, all while covering everything needed to keep the entire affair legal.
George and Win had snuck off at some point during the middle, and when Arthur uncomfortably nodded for Harry and Hermione to kiss (so briefly it could barely be counted as such), fireworks exploded behind them and the sparks formed into a visage of Hermione smacking the man across the face.
Overall, it was wholly uneventful and not nearly as uncomfortable as Hermione had been anticipating. She didn't wear a white dress, opting instead for a pale floral sundress that contrasted beautifully against her dark skin, and Harry's outfit was plain and his trainers had grass stains. He spent the entirety of the evening, minus the one customary song, dancing with Ginny, and she had hung around by the punch bowl to ensure that George didn't slip anything into it. She hadn't seen him this mischievous since before Fred died, and she was quite looking forward to getting to know Win a little better.
When the night was finally over and the guests had left, Hermione had big dreams of returning to her flat and sinking into her bathtub and maybe never getting out of it. The Ministry, on the other hand, had slightly different plans. While couples were not required to have actual intercourse to consummate these marriages, they were required to live in the same residence as their new spouses, immediately and permanently. It was an issue that they probably should have discussed before this point came, but Hermione knew that there was no detaching Harry from Grimmauld Place, where he had such strong familial ties through Sirius. In the end they'd agreed that the former Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was really their best option.
Kreacher had shrieked bloody murder about a "mudblood living in the house" until Harry had threatened him with as many socks as the little elf could carry, denying him the ability to continue to serve the Black line. By the time Hermione finally made it to the bedroom that Harry had set up for her, she was exhausted and upset and mourning, once again, for the future she could have had. Together, her and Harry sat on the edge of her bed as she cried and he rubbed at her back, once more promising that it would all be okay, eventually.
Hermione wasn't sure how long either of them could wait for "eventually" to become now.
Ron and Hannah were next. Even at the wedding, it was clear that they were both hesitant about the process, uncomfortable with the thought and each other but going through with it anyways. By this point they were two months out from the bill being passed, and neither had wanted to wait any longer for fear of Ministry retribution.
Their wedding was another small affair. In fact, the guest list seemed quite similar to Hermione's, with the addition of a variety of Hufflepuffs from a few different years and a handful of Ravenclaws that Hermione didn't recognize, but who seemed to be good friends or spouses to the crowd of Hufflepuffs. Molly had decorated the entire Burrow with flowers, and they were married in the back garden in the mid-spring sun. Hannah had looked beautiful in a simple white dress, and Ron wore the dark blue "ridiculous dress robes" that George had run away to avoid. They stood next to a flowerbed which was budding with new growth and Hannah tried very hard not to think about the fact that she didn't have much family to be there for her.
The Weasleys tried very hard to convince her that she did.
Hermione spotted, after the wedding, Molly and Hannah deep in an animated discussion about the best way to keep a shepherd's pie crust from sogging and how much shortening they should really be using in various baked goods. Later, she noticed Ginny telling the blonde exactly how to make Ron squirm, if he should ever need coaxing into anything. George and Win pressed her hands full of Canary Creams and Fainting Fudge and a variety of other products Hermione couldn't quite identify, probably with some whispered word on prank wars and sneaky brothers that caused Hannah to toss her head back and laugh.
Eventually, Hermione was able to make it through the throng of people to smile at the woman who had married her ex-boyfriend. Hannah smiled back, carefully, and before Hermione could think about it she pulled the girl into a quick hug. Hannah blushed fiercely. "I know this is, um, awkward. You and Ron-"
"Never really got anywhere, Hannah. Look, I know this is some whole scheme cooked up by the Ministry, but. I want Ron to be happy. And I want you to be happy as well. And you might not make each other happy, but, if they got something right and you do, well." Hermione shrugged, carefully. "That would make me happy too."
Hannah nodded and lifted a hand to brush a tear off her cheek. "I do appreciate it, Hermione. This," Hannah gestured around them, "isn't exactly what I planned for my wedding, is it? My mom dead, my dad in America, me marrying a man I don't even really know, much less love. But…" She looked around over the crowd, redheads smiling back at her, friends mingling and dancing, laughter in the air. "But maybe it won't be so bad?"
"The Weasleys have an incredible knack for making just about anyone they deem worthy to be family, Hannah. You're in now. Even if this doesn't work out, I have a feeling they won't be letting you go any time soon."
The women exchanged one more smile before Hannah was being swept into another conversation with a tall brunette that Hermione remembered from being a Ravenclaw prefect. Hermione made her way once more to stand guard over the punch bowl and forced herself not to cry about the injustice of it all.
Three days before the three month deadline for marriage, Ginny Weasley married Draco Malfoy in the ballroom of the manor.
It was the party of the year.
Narcissa Malfoy had a knack for event planning. She also had a knack for knowing when she made others uncomfortable and doing absolutely nothing to change any of it. The very choice of venue had been part of this. Ginny had decided that she wanted as little to do with the wedding as humanly possible and had hefted off the planning and responsibility to Draco, who in turn passed it onto his mother. She could have chosen anywhere for their wedding, but had artfully decided that one of the best things she could do would be to bring the golden members of society into her home, into a room that held terrible memories, and turn it into a place of happiness and love. Not, of course, that either of those emotions were present. But Narcissa clearly saw the event as a way to look as though they had changed, had improved, were worthy of being the darlings of society again.
The entire room had been redone. It was bright and airy, white marble and tall pillars, light coloured comfortable sofas and round tables with lacy white cloths spread around the room. One entire wall held a buffet table which, after the ceremony, was covered in delicious looking food items. Firewhiskey and butterbeer, even muggle gin flowed freely, and all of the staff were human, not elf.
A beautiful arch decorated with flowers stood at the front of the room, and it was under this arch that Draco and Ginny were married. She wore white, a dress Narcissa had picked out. Classic and contemporary, it looked perfect on Ginny's short stature, and she had white lilies braided into her hair. For Harry, she had told Hermione, voice fierce as the stylist tugged on her long red locks.
Draco was in deep green dress robes, and stood at the front of the room doing his best not to look hesitant. Hermione, sitting in the front on the bridal side, noticed that the look in his eyes was familiar. He looked as though he had covered his emotions with a thin veneer, and something more was bubbling under the surface. When Ginny entered the room and the crowd turned and gasped, she kept her eyes on the blonde and realized that it was the same look he wore the entirety of their sixth look at Hogwarts. Haunted. Hunted.
The ballroom held more guests than Hermione, Harry, and Ron's weddings combined. The Weasleys were, of course, all there. New wives and extended family too, including Aunt Muriel who had not been in attendance for Ron's wedding the month prior. Luna and Neville as well, who Hermione was sure had been a forcible invitation from Ginny. During the small role that Ginny had played in the planning process, she had handed over a list full of the names of Gryffindors and other classmates, not backing down from this challenge. Narcissa had been accommodating, and as Hermione looked back she also spotted Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Susan Bones, both of the Patil twins, Lavender Brown, and even a vaguely uncomfortable looking Michael Corner.
The groom's side was smaller, but not by much. Narcissa sat in the front, stoic and poised and alone. Her husband in Azkaban and her sister a traitor. She had filled the gap by inviting all of Draco's friends from school, as well as their parents and siblings, a handful of pureblood society wives, Rita Skeeter, and a few more people who Hermione wouldn't recognize if she tried.
As the ceremony began, Harry - sitting to her left - slid his hand into hers and squeezed. She took a second to flick her eyes across to him, watching the way he held his jaw tightly and his shoulders square, feeling his dull fingernails dig into the back of her hand. She squeezed back to reassure him, and refocused her gaze on the front.
The wedding itself was rather uneventful. A traditional ceremony, much more stoic and formal than either hers or Ron's had been. It had been complete with a traditional handfasting that, were it under any other circumstances, would have been beautiful. Silver swirls of magic mingled with scarlet red, twisting around their hands and melding together, settling into their skin.
Everything had been going alright. Until the reception.
Hermione had been standing and speaking to Hannah and Seamus, keeping one eye focused on Harry who was hovering near Ginny and a group of Weasley relatives, standing close but not close enough to be improper. Ginny and Draco had already shared their dance, stiff and stilted, as the waiting staff had magically cleared away the chairs and filled the buffet table. Ron had disappeared to the food table to fill plates for both himself and Hannah. Draco was standing with his mother, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini, all collectively looking rather uncomfortable at the sheer number of Gryffindors in the room. At one point, Hermione caught the blonde's eyes and couldn't look away: he was glaring, clearly not happy, though his face looked relatively neutral. She was so shocked by the intensity of emotion, and figured that it was directed most likely at her for the sheer fact of her existence, she had looked away and turned her entire body out of his sight line, scanning the room instead.
Everything had been going alright, until Hermione glanced up.
She was standing exactly in the middle of the room, underneath a large chandelier. Before she realized what was happening, before she had time to look away, everything changed. Her heart pounded into action against her chest, blood rushed to her head and drowned out the noise of the crowd. She dug her fingernails into her palms and felt her entire body shake around her and her eyes were closed and she was gasping and trying to breathe and trying to drown out the high cackling voice, bracing her body for the next Cruciatus, wishing it would be over wishing she would just die-
Arms were around her and she was being pulled out of the middle of the ballroom, into a dark corner, someone was holding her and running a hand over her hair. "Shh, shh, it's okay, it's not real, it's not happening, you're safe, you're safe-"
As the words started to sink in, Hermione forced herself to take a deep shuddering breath and open her eyes. Her body was still shaking, but less so now that she was being held so tightly, and when she opened her eyes she was shocked to see not long curly dark hair or a cruel smirk, but the top of a head of light brown hair. Taking a few more deep breaths, Hermione managed to uncurl her fingers and release the tension in her shoulders, and when the person holding her realized this they let her go, just a little.
It was George's new wife Win, standing beside her, peering up at Hermione and rubbing her back. "Hi." Win said softly, smiling gently at the taller woman. "Glad you're back with us."
Hermione nodded, not entirely sure what to say. It was rather awkward, the whole situation. "Um, what..?" She was never her most coherent after an episode like that.
Win properly let go now, and took Hermione's hand in hers, tugging her down to sit on a settee that they had been standing next to. "Sorry to have intruded. But, you were having a panic attack. You looked up and then your whole body went rigid and I don't actually think anyone noticed, but I could see you shaking so I pulled you over here and, well." She shrugged one shoulder, not apologetically. "My sister still has them. She was there, during the battle. I was too - came as soon as I got the owl - but I was helping out with the wounded, not in the action. She finds that being held very tightly brings her back out of it. That looked like a bad one, though."
Hermione could only nod mutely, not letting go of Win's hand, frankly just glad someone had noticed before it got worse and she made a fool of herself. In fact, looking out over the crowd it seemed Win was right. No one had noticed at all. She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not.
"What can I do?" Win asked next, concern evident on her face.
"I, I'm not sure. Usually I just, I don't really realize until it's over and I'm mostly out of it. Sometimes it happens quickly. Sometimes, not so much." Hermione admitted. "I just." She sighed, rubbing a hand across her face. This was a lot to be opening up to a stranger with, but Win was George's wife, and something deep in Hermione's chest needed to say it, and there was a curiosity in Win's eyes that she couldn't quite avoid. "I was tortured. Right there," she pointed to the middle of the ballroom, where Neville and Seamus were laughing at something Dean had said, and Ron was handing Hannah a plate of food and offering her a small smile. "They've redone the whole room, everything. Barely recognizable. Except the chandelier."
Win glanced up and frowned. "Well that was rather dumb of them, wasn't it? It's an absolutely hideous chandelier. Don't know why they'd leave that up."
"It's actually worse than that. It broke - we broke it getting out. The chandelier. But it looks like they had it repaired to look exactly… exactly the same." Her voice broke and she frowned, feeling the tears running down her cheek. "I was fine, mostly. It's just hard to be here, to see it. They've changed the whole room and left the one thing that I couldn't stand to see again."
Win sighed in resignation and then looked back out to the party. "Maybe we should leave. I can get George - he's sneaking something into the punch, I think,"
"Knew it," Hermione mumbled.
"And we can all just leave."
"Win," Hermione began, shaking her head. "You don't have to do that for me. And besides, I, I need… If Ginny's going to be living here," she shuddered, "I need to be able to at least be in the house. I should stay for, for at least a little bit longer."
Win nodded and stood, tugging Hermione up with her.
"Thank you, Win, I." She paused, frowned, realization hitting her all at once. "Winifred. Your full name, it's…"
Win blushed furiously and shook her head, glancing around to make sure George was nowhere near her. "You can't tell him. He can't know. Do you know what that would do to him?"
Hermione couldn't help it, she laughed. "Maybe the Ministry wasn't just pulling all of this compatibility bullshit out of their-" her voice trailed off as she noticed Ginny and Harry, standing close enough to touch and yet looking so far away, with mismatched wedding bands and matching sorrow. "Then again."
Win sighed in agreement, noticing where Hermione's eyes had gone.
"Then again."