Chapter Six

Plainly Painful

Hermione had gone to sleep last night with the sweet knowledge that she would be waking up to Draco next to her for the first time in a week. She wouldn't think about it being the last, she wanted to enjoy how the sunlight transformed his hair from its baby yellow to near white. She loved to watch the innocent doze as he woke up.

However disappointment fell on her like an anvil when she saw that he wasn't there. She felt his side of the bed. It was cold telling her that he had been gone for a while.

The door swung open, a red-haired tornado bursting through with clothing. With a wave of her wand Ginny got rid of the thousands of petals, and puddles of wax. She threw the covers off of Hermione dropping a raggedy pair of jeans, and a stained t-shirt at her.

"Dress in that, we have a long travel ahead of us."

Hermione stared wide-eyed from the clothes on her lap to her. "What's this?"

"Traveling clothes."

"They're dirty."

"Wow, you are smart," she remarked sarcastically. "We'll be going through six fireplaces."

"Six! I'm getting married at the Ministry, it only takes one!"

Ginny grinned mischievously. "The Ministry was unavailable - renovation work - it's all shut down. Get dressed."

"Six," she murmured. "That can take us out of the country."

"Hermione! Stop thinking, and for goodness sakes put on these clothes. We don't have all day."

She glared at her, but did as she said pulling on the jeans, and the t-shirt a hole in the short sleeve. She grabbed her cloak, and with Ginny they sprinted hurriedly down the hallway, and into the fireplace. They arrived in a strange house, but one look at the ginger couple in the lounge that Ginny waved to she assumed that they were part of the Weasley family. They spun to another place, a dingy pub, and to yet another, and another. She was coated in soot, flecks of ashes in her hair. The swirling of greens, and grates churning like in a blender made her sick to her stomach. She stepped out of the final hearth. She didn't know if there were any others that she needed to go through, but it didn't matter, she was going to stay there.

"You don't look good," Ginny assessed.

Hermione glowered at her seeing that Ginny was layered in soot, and grime as well. "I couldn't have guessed," she grumbled.

Ginny led her over to a chair. They were in a bedroom of some sort, much like the hotel room. It was a hotel room. She couldn't comprehend why they were there, and she was afraid that if she opened her mouth one more time she would empty out any contents in her.

"Harry, get her some ginger ale."

"Harry," Hermione managed to say.

Then there they were, Harry, Ron, Hannah, Luna, Neville, Penelope, and Draco all gathered worriedly around her all dressed in suits, and dresses. She groaned, and took the cup Harry handed her.

"You'll feel loads better after a shower, Hermione," Neville said.

"No I won't."

"Sure you will," Ron disagreed, "once you clean up you'll be in top shape."

"It's my wedding day, I won't be feeling loads better." She looked up at them through tears. None of them looked at her except Draco who came to kneel in front of her taking her hands in silence. She clung to him not wanting to ever let go, but she did when Harry suggested she get a move on, and Draco moved away from her.

She downed the ginger ale in one gulp, and stilled for a second before getting up, the room slowing it's spinning for her to make it to the bathroom - the door that didn't have a peep hole.

"Do you need any help," Ginny called through the closed door.

"No," she snapped turning the knobs for a blast of steaming water. Her clothes piled on the floor she burned herself when she stepped in, but she paid no mind to her reddened skin. It made her feel something other than dread, and heartache that would only grow stronger as the day passed.

After ten minutes she got out, dried off, and knocked on the door in signal for any one of the girls to come in. Ginny did with her white dress. She laid it carefully on the counter by the sink, and pulled up a stool that had been in the corner.

"Sit," she ordered. "I'm going to do your hair, and makeup."

Hermione sat, but didn't do so without complaint. "Why are they all here?"

"They're your friends," she replied simply as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"I didn't want anyone here. This wasn't supposed to be special."

She opened containers of blush, and lipstick rifling through a small bag for more. "You think we'd let you do this on your own?"

"I had you, and Draco."

"You know, Draco almost didn't come. We all had to force him."

"What?"

She sighed as if it were against her better judgment to say it. "He didn't want to see you get married. He told Harry to take you down the aisle, because he couldn't handle it. He eventually came to his senses."

"Who made him do that?"

"We all did, but it didn't take many threats. He knows he needs to see you do this, or else he'll never get closure."

She bit her lip as Ginny brushed over her face. "Will you be getting closure?"

"I think we all will, but perhaps I won't need to."

"What do you mean?"

She laughed. "Ron, George, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy are ready to kill Draco."

"He didn't do anything!"

"He'll be marrying me, forced or not he wasn't in their good books before."

"Don't let them kill him, okay?"

"Oh, they won't," she said easily. "They love you too, you know. You're their little sister, and because a lot of your happiness relies on him they won't touch a hair on his big head, but it might not go without a couple of curses."

They laughed. Hermione surprised herself with the sound. She didn't expect that she'd laugh at all that day, but Ginny had that way about her, and she was grateful. At least when she talked with her children about the day she got married it wouldn't sound like a short recap with happy pieces missing. She could say that she did laugh at a joke Aunt Ginny told. She dispelled these thoughts quickly however for they involved children. She didn't want to think about the next part of the horrid marriage law.

"They did get into an argument earlier of whether Draco should walk you down the aisle. Dad was ready to do it, so were all the boys. We decided to leave it up to you since you do have a choice. Draco is willing, but... It's your call."

Hermione pondered her choices. She loved Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George, but she wasn't closest to them. Between Harry, and Ron she rather Harry do it. She had no reasoning for that preference. Mr. Weasley was a father-figure to her. She thought deeply about it. She had her heart set on Draco. She wanted him to give her away. "Draco," she declared.

"Draco it is."

"Where are we," she finally asked.

"Italy. Blaise thought it would be nice to marry in his inn here. There's a lovely vineyard out back."

She didn't respond.

After her makeup, and hair was done, and Ginny helped her into her simple dress, she was turned to face the full length mirror hooked behind the door. She held her breath as she surveyed her reflection.

She was stunning even to herself. Her hair was sleek in waves, her makeup putting emphasis on her lips, and wide brown eyes. She reminded herself not to cry. She wouldn't cry that day.

"You should give up Quidditch, and go into the work of miracles, Ginny."

She chuckled, "you were beautiful to start with, there wasn't much I had to do."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let me go show off my masterpiece." She pushed her out of the door.

Mingling around by the bed they all turned to her. Hannah, and Penelope grinned on kindly, Luna smiled, Neville blushed, Harry looked on like a proud father, Ron's eyebrows disappeared under the fringe of his hair, and Draco was passive.

It didn't last long, Draco strolled towards her slowly trailing his thumb from her hairline to her jaw, and over to her lips which he barely touched. "Gorgeous," he sighed. "Give me time with the bride," he said to the others.

They gave furtive glances to one another, but they filed out of the room, and they were left alone.

Hermione didn't want to break the moment, but she had a feeling that there wasn't a moment to break. "Why is he doing all of this?"

He smirked letting his hand fall, her cheek cold where it had been. "He wanted to give you a real wedding. He doesn't want you to miss out on this." He reached inside of his jacket, and brought out a chain. He took her left hand slipping off her wedding band, and strung it on the necklace, and then draped it around her neck.

She held her band as he let go. "Why?"

"He has one for you."

"I want to wear this one."

"You are. It's with you. It's appropriate to wear your husband's ring -"

"This is my husband's -"

"Hermione please," he begged, something he very rarely did if ever. "You know what I mean."

"You'll be wearing Ginny's," she asked.

He shook his head, "we're not exchanging rings."

"I don't have one to give Blaise."

"Ginny has it, stop worrying." He glimpsed to the door. "They should be down there by now. Are you ready?"

"No."

He kissed her forehead. "I'll be there. The whole way."

Out into the dim lit hallway, and into the elevator down the lobby. Before the doors opened he looped his arm with hers, and the scene that greeted her made her mouth drop slightly.

Lights streamed from the ceiling, two ropes lighting the aisle, enough fold-able seats to sit her friends, and an old Ministry official at the end with Blaise fidgeting nervously with his lapel. When he looked up, he smiled. She smiled, but she was sure it was more of a grimace.

Hermione remembered the walk down the aisle, remembered her reluctance to let go of Draco, his hurt features, Ginny standing beside her, her hand constantly on her arm in reassurance as her and Blaise said their vows. She remembered the band he placed on her finger, plain, like her dress, like her feelings to what she was doing. Plainly painful, and in the art of repressing she didn't remember anything else.