1Thanks to those of you who reviewed and pointed out my error: Celeste is the child of Bill and Fleur, not Charlie. My bad!
Also, thanks to my interim beta Lucy. I do, however, need a new full-time beta, preferably an accredited one. If anyone who reads this would be interested, contact me!
Chapter Four
The day of the wedding started out as a complete disaster for Hermione. Although she hadn't been out celebrating New Years Eve the night before like most people, she awoke completely exhausted and bleary-minded. She had had the nightmare again. Too add insult to injury her morning sickness was in full-swing and she raced from her bed to retch furiously in her tiny bathroom. After a long shower and a snack of dry salty crackers and soda-water Hermione was feeling slightly more awake and aware, but was thrown back into a foul mood when she tried on her dress.
As a bridesmaid, though not the maid of honor thank goodness, Hermione's dress had been arranged for her early in November, only a few days after she had become pregnant and long before she had found out. It was a distastefully frilly dress and was, predictably enough, lavender in color. Crookshanks had been sleeping on it, so the dress was covered in a thick layer of orange fur. But it wasn't the dress's hideous appearance that distressed Hermione: she had long ago resigned herself to that, and it was easy to clean off the cat hair. What bothered Hermione was that when she pulled the dress on she discovered that it was a little too tight. At three months Hermione's stomach was still mostly flat, but she had put on about five pounds which made the dress a little too snug.
"Dammit!" Hermione shrieked, throwing the dress away in irritation. It was a simple matter to charm the dress to fit better, but it was infuriating that she had to. "Anything else?" She demanded of the ceiling. Predictably, there was no answer.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"Hermione, you look great!" Ginny ran to embrace her friend. "How're you feeling?"
"Nauseous, and you?" Hermione hugged her back, fighting down another wave of the morning sickness which had returned with a vengeance when she apparated to the Burrow.
"Wishing Lavender had picked any other color." Ginny smiled wryly. "Red hair and lavender dress clash something awful, don't you think?"
Hermione had to agree that the dress was not a flattering color for Ginny, but as the groom's only sister she had been pressed into service as a bridesmaid quite against her will. "At least you aren't too fat to wear yours," Hermione complained. "This morning I had to charm the damn thing just to fit. I've gained weight already."
"That's normal." Ginny patted Hermione's arm. "Come on, lets get our bouquets."
The wedding was to take place in a small church not far from the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had wanted the ceremony to be performed in her backyard, but it was far too cold and Lavender had insisted on a January wedding claiming, rightly enough, that there was no time to be wasted in "these troubled times." No one could refute that claim, so Mrs. Weasley had relented. Ron, Harry, and the other Weasley men were all at the church already, but the bride, her mother, Mrs. Weasley, and the bridesmaids would get ready at the Burrow and drive to the church shortly.
The bouquets were laid out on the kitchen table, all painstakingly assembled by Mrs. Weasley's sure hand. The bridesmaids all had small nosegays of miniature white and lavender roses. Nearby lay Lavender's bouquet, a huge affair of normal-sized white and lavender roses with some baby's breath and a few white lily's added in for contrast.
"Wonder if she'll tip over from all those flowers," Ginny whispered into Hermione's ear as they grabbed their nosegays. Hermione giggled her appreciation and sneezed.
"Hermione, there you are!" Lavender rushed forward, followed close behind by Parvati, the maid of honor. Hermione could barely take Lavender's appearance in as she was embraced tightly and engulfed in voluminous white cloth.
The wedding dress was long and tasteful, not nearly as frilly as the bridesmaids' gowns. It draped elegantly over Lavender's slender frame and had a lavender sash fastened around the waist. A coronet of tiny white roses crowned Lavender's head, from which hung a thin veil.
"Lavender, you look lovely," Hermione told her friend. "Nervous?"
"I think I'm going to vomit." Lavender laughed, looking pale under her make-up.
"Well, that's two of us then." Hermione smiled.
"Oh, Ron told me! Congratulations!" Lavender embraced her again.
"Thank you."
"You look like you're glowing," Parvati added.
Ginny inspected Hermione carefully. "You know, I believe you are. I guess what they say about pregnant women's true after all. You really do seem to glow."
"Oh, that's just the cold." Hermione blushed, shrugging off their compliments. "Are we going to the church soon?"
The women all crammed themselves into Mr. Weasley's new car. It was much like the old one in that it expanded to fit everyone as they climbed in, but it was still crowded due to the large skirts and the great amount of flowers. Hermione sneezed, remembering her pollen allergy. Unfortunately for Hermione the church was similarly decked out in flowers. Bunches of them hung from every surface of the small sanctuary along with white draperies and a multitude of candles.
Parvati, Hermione, Ginny and Fleur (also a bridesmaid) all preceded Lavender into the hall, but after the bride had been escorted down the aisle by her father they all sat except for Parvati. Similarly, Harry lurked behind Ron, waving at Hermione and winking at Ginny who blushed prettily.
Hermione couldn't really remember the service later. She was too distracted by a runny nose and an upset stomach to pay much attention to whatever it was that the Vicker said during the ceremony. She assumed that there had been a point where Ron and Lavender had recited some vows, and maybe said "I do," but other than that she had no clue what happened.
Hermione did remember the reception, however, which was held at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley must have been cooking for days to prepare all that food, which fed about one hundred witches and wizards. Hermione hadn't been sure that everyone would fit, but it seemed to work out all right, so she relaxed. Because Ron and Lavender, as the center of attention, were always busy, and Harry and Ginny were spending every moment together, Hermione spent most of the reception hiding out in the kitchen. She had never been comfortable in crowds, and besides she didn't even know most of the guests.
"Miss Granger, a pleasure indeed." Hermione almost jumped at that familiar voice.
"Professor! Ron invited you?" Hermione hadn't meant to make the 'you' sound quite so incredulous. She blushed at his raised brow.
"Quite alright, Miss Granger." Professor Snape chuckled darkly but did not smile. "No, Mr. Weasley did not, in fact, invite me. He did invite Headmistress McGonagle, however, and she brought me as her 'plus one'."
"Of course, sir," Hermione inclined her head politely. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"
"Far too many flowers. Other than that, it would appear they are legally married, so I suppose the ceremony was a success," Snape responded dryly. "And you?"
"Oh, I wasn't paying any attention." Hermione giggled self-consciously. Even after graduating and being considered a mature, adult witch, her old Potions professor still made her exceedingly nervous. "I was too allergic to the flowers and I've been feeling unwell all day."
"I hope you are not sick, Miss Granger," Snape raised his brow again, this time in faint, surprisingly polite concern. "Anything I can do?"
"Oh, not at all, sir." Hermione blushed even darker. "I understand it's quite normal for a pregnant woman to feel sick, so I'm not worried."
Now both brows were raised in very obvious surprise. "Congratulations, Miss Granger. I had no idea. Or, rather, is it a Mrs. Something now?"
Hermione thought that her face would burst into flames, she was blushing so furiously. "No, still Miss. I'm currently on my own, sir."
"Forgive me, then, Miss Granger. And congratulations." Snape also looked uncomfortable now. "Excuse me," with a slight bow, Snape left the kitchen, returning to the safer conversation of McGonagle.
"Stupid." Hermione banged her head lightly against the table-top. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..."
"You thinking about me again?" Ron grinned as he sat down across from Hermione.
"Ronald." Hermione sat up straight again, smiling at her friend and letting warmth infuse her voice. "I suppose I should think of you as a man now, but you still look like the fourteen year old boy I used to have a crush on."
"Really?" Ron looked rather pleased with himself. "I liked you too for a few years. Think it would've worked out?"
Hermione raised her brow in mock disbelief. "The Quidditch fanatic and the bookworm? You must be joking, Ron. No, I'm just as glad we never tried anything. I like it better this way."
"Would it insult you if I agreed?"
"Of course."
"Then I will continue to pine for you." Ron laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're looking down, though. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No, I'm just feeling a little low. Don't let me spoil your day for you though, go dance with Mrs. Weasley."
"Mum?"
Hermione had to throw a napkin at Ron's laughing face. "I suppose that could get confusing," she admitted, giggling. "After all, now there's a Molly, a Fleur, and a Lavender. Go dance with Mrs. L. Weasley."
"Will do." Ron gave her a mocking salute before racing off to be with his bride.
"Have fun," Hermione called after him. Sighing, she stood from the table. Well, if she couldn't enjoy herself she might as well go home. At least Crookshanks would keep her company. As Hermione left the kitchen she ran straight into Ginny and Harry.
"Hermione, having fun?" Ginny gasped, laughter in her eyes. She and Harry had been dancing.
"Not really; I think I'm just gonna go home." Hermione tried her best brave smile, but couldn't quite make it reach her eyes.
"Oh come on, you have to stay," Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm as though to stop her. "Dance with Charlie; he hasn't got a partner."
Before Hermione knew what was happening she had been all but thrust into Charlie's arms. "Hey," she murmured awkwardly as he spun her around the living room, which had been cunningly converted into a dance-floor by removing all the furniture.
"How are you?" Charlie asked, looking only slightly less awkward. Charlie was basically a taller, much more handsome version of Ron; he wasn't above being uncomfortable in close quarters to girls.
"Nauseous, and you?" Hermione replied tartly. "I was going to go home, but Ginny insisted I stay."
"Well, I'm glad you're still here." Charlie smirked. "As long as you don't throw up on me, that is."
"Ha ha," Hermione responded dryly, though there was mirth in her eyes. "When are you and Ginny going back to Romania?"
"Tomorrow morning." Charlie glanced to where Ginny and Harry danced together, looking for all the world as if this might be their own wedding. "I guess she'll stay at Harry's again tonight. She's really missed him, you know."
"Yeah, so has Harry." Hermione looked away, wishing even more now that she had been allowed to leave. "But you never know, any day now it could be safe for them here."
"Could be." Charlie twirled Hermione one last time as the song ended. "Do you still want to go home? I wouldn't mind a bit of company, if you wouldn't mind going for a walk or something."
Hermione was almost tempted. Looking at Charlie's face, she was surprised to see that he seemed to be flirting with her, in his own, quiet way. "As nice as that would be, I really should go home. After all, I wouldn't want to go and throw up all over you," she joked.
Charlie had the grace to smile back. "Take care of yourself, Hermione. And congratulations."
"Thank you." Hermione gave him a brief hug before departing. Not long ago she probably would have gone for it, too. Charlie was kind, handsome, and clever enough. He also happened to be a Weasley, her favorite family. No, Charlie wouldn't have been a bad choice, but now she didn't have that option. It wouldn't be fair to become involved with Charlie, not with a baby on the way. Especially not with Harry's baby on the way.
Hermione pulled on her cloak and Apparated home without bothering to go outside the Burrow. It was generally bad manners to Apparate within another wizard's home, but Hermione didn't feel like getting cold today. She wasted no time in changing into her pajamas and climbing into bed.
"Hey, Crookshanks," Hermione murmured as the cat snuggled up to her. "You're the only man I need, anyhow." Crookshanks' only response was to purr deeply, but that was just what Hermione was looking for. "Who needs humans when I have you." Curling up with her cat, Hermione dozed off.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Severus Snape was generally not a wedding person. He didn't have anything against them, per say, he merely found most ceremonies tedious and somewhat foolish. Furthermore, the institution of marriage was unrealistic. Pledging to love one person for the rest of your life? Madness. Therefore, Severus hadn't been exactly excited by the prospect of Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown's wedding, but he had agreed to go to keep Minerva happy. Since the loss of Albus, Minerva was prone to fits of loneliness and Severus thought it was the least he could do to alleviate that pain. After all, he had been the one to cause it.
Strolling through the Burrow during the reception had strongly reminded Severus of the last time he had visited this house. It had been the summer after Albus's death, at Bill Weasley's wedding to the French witch, Fleur Delacoeur. Fleur Weasley, now. The wedding had been Severus's only opportunity to Obliviate everyone who knew the truth about that night on the Astronomy Tower. Everyone who knew that he had murdered Albus Dumbledore. Because of this, Severus wasn't exactly in the best of moods at the reception. Until he had wandered into the kitchen.
The sight of Hermione Granger had surprised him more than it should have. It wasn't the fact that she was there, that would be obvious to anyone as she was the groom's best friend. Severus vaguely recalled seeing her as a bridesmaid at the church, though truth be told he hadn't been paying much attention. What did surprise Severus was how Granger had appeared. For one thing she was not the child he remembered; she had grown into a reasonably attractive young woman in the years since he had last set eyes on her. Even more surprising was the way she seemed to... glow.
The discovery that Hermione Granger was pregnant and unmarried had added on to Severus's surprise. Then he had grown irritated with himself for caring. What business of his was it what the foolish girl did with her life? He damned himself for pitying her; life would not be easy on an un-married witch with a child in tow. He had returned to Minerva's side, wrapped up in his own thoughts until he spotted Granger dancing with one of the older Weasley boys... Charlie, that was it, the dragon tamer. Severus wondered briefly if the boy might be the father of Granger's child, until Granger gently turned the Weasley down. Severus almost gloated at that; after teaching so many of them, the Weasley children were hardly his favorite people.
Severus didn't stay much longer than Granger had. After seeing her Disapparate he quickly became bored; he no longer had anyone to spy on. Making his excuses to Minerva, Severus had made use of the fireplace in the Burrow's kitchen and flooed back to Hogwarts.
"So, Granger's going to have a baby," he murmured to himself. He was relaxing on the couch in his sitting room, enjoying a glass of scotch and gazing into the fire. "I suppose I'll have to teach the brat. Damn, Weasley better not be the father, I couldn't bear another one." Remembering that one of the Weasleys, the one who had married the French girl, already had a child, Severus cursed. "Oh well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Severus was used to talking to himself these days. He used to spend most of his evenings conversing with Albus, but that was no longer an option. Not unless he felt like breaking into Minerva's office and speaking to Albus's portrait. He and the portrait had an understanding; the painting would never tell anyone who had killed him just as Severus would never tell anyone he had been the killer. But Severus still felt uncomfortable speaking to the semi-ghost of his old friend. It brought back the memories of his betrayal...
Severus downed his scotch and poured another glass. It was hard, these days, to get any rest unless he had drunk a few glasses first. His mind refused to rest. Pausing on the way back to his couch, Severus had a thought. "Granger's an Auror, isn't she? Hmm, I doubt that will continue much longer." The idea of a pregnant, active field-auror was preposterous; it was far too dangerous. "Oh well, her problem." Severus settled onto his couch, sipping his drink and gazing into the fire once more.
TBC...
Preview:
As the glass eye moved to regard Hermione's midriff Moody's real eye widened and he leaned back in disbelief. "Granger, do you have something to tell me?" He growled.
