[A/N: Hello readers!!!

We've reached a point in the story where real time has caught up with our characters. Flashbacks are finished for the most part meaning we are in the home stretch.

I still sadly own nothing. My profit comes in the form of reviews, so please take the time to do so. :

WEDDING DAY

Hermione's palms grew moist as the sedan took a left onto the familiar dirt road leading up to the Burrow. Her heart hammered away in her chest. She felt like a child who was facing her peers for the first time, worried desperately about how she would fit in. This was absurd, because even as a young girl she'd never really cared much what people thought of her. Even more so, she was about to face friends; friends she'd all but abandoned, but friends nonetheless. Surely they wouldn't shun her, would they? She closed her eyes to try and clear her head. When she opened them, the Burrow was in view. Her stomach lurched. There were a few cars parked outside, although most guests had probably used magical means of transportation so there was no real way to tell how many people had already arrived. Thom Granger pulled into an open space, parked and turned off the car. None of them moved.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn't know the whole story behind their daughter's split from the infamous Harry Potter. Actually, there were only two people who knew the truth, the real truth. After Harry had all but physically thrown her out of the flat that afternoon, Hermione had apparated home. She'd had nowhere else to go. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been delighted to hear the pop of an apparition come from the sitting room. They knew the sound well and associated it with a visit from their daughter. They'd rushed down the hall, Mrs. Granger with her arms wide open, but had been struck motionless when they found their daughter crumpled on her knees, sobbing into the carpet floor.

The story was complicated and exhausting to tell. Hermione didn't bother trying. Her parents never even knew she was pregnant. She couldn't bear to hurt anyone anymore today; anymore ever again. Instead, she relayed the events without ever mentioning a baby. She said Harry had grown increasingly distant, that he wouldn't let her in and they barely ever spoke. She said their relationship had crumbled despite attempts to salvage it. Her parents had been supportive and although they suspected there was much more to their daughter's story, they never pushed.

"So, shall we?" Mr. Granger asked softly, pulling the key from the ignition.

Hermione took a deep breath. Time had betrayed her. Too much time separated her from Harry; too much and now not enough. Silently, she opened the car door, let her legs swing out and stood stiffly.

Her father and mother followed her, exchanging a few weak smiles. Mr. Granger kissed the top of his daughter's head then wrapped his arm around her shoulders supportively as they walked up to the front of the Burrow. When they reached the door it was Hermione who stretched out a fist and knocked gently. She was afraid if there was any hesitation, she might run in terror back to the car.

The front door of the Burrow flew open almost immediately. Apparently on the welcoming committee, Fleur looked pristine as usual in an ice blue, low cut dress with her long, silky hair pulled back immaculately. She didn't try to hide her surprise, her blue eyes widening as they met Hermione's brown ones.

"Ermione! Eez eet really you?"

Fleur threw her arms around a stiffened Hermione, squeezing her as though they were long lost sisters.

"Hello Fleur." Hermione said, breaking the embrace. "Do you remember my parents?"

Hermione pushed her parents in front of her, using them as a shield. Fleur bowed theatrically.

"Ov course. Come in, come in. Eet ez so good to zee you!"

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped inside the Burrow. She was hit with an immediate sense of nostalgia. So many of her childhood memories were set in the comforts of the Burrow among the Weasley's, among Harry. She glanced around taking in the familiar living space. Her eyes roamed over the furniture and décor, coming to rest on a large, free standing wooden clock between the kitchen and the sitting room. There were six hands on the clock's face, each etched with the first name of a member of the Weasley family. Instead of telling time, this clock told location. Five of the hands pointed at "home". One, did not. This one never moved anymore. Looking at Fred's immobile hand on the enchanted clock made Hermione feel guilty. It had been far too long since she'd last been to the Burrow. Her thoughts were broken by a high pitched squeal. Before she even had time to look around the room, she was pulled into a tight embrace.

"My, my! Just look at you dear!"

Hermione recognized Mrs. Weasley's voice as well as the heavy scent of her cinnamon perfume. After hugging a bit longer, Mrs. Weasley pushed her away, holding her out at arms length and taking in the sight of the once young, domineering girl who had very much grown up. Hermione wanted to say something, wanted to apologize for not visiting, but no words made their way to her mouth.

"How you've all grown…" Mrs. Weasley sighed wistfully. For a moment her eyes went some place else. Hermione bit her lip.

"It's so good to see you, Mrs. Weasley. I've missed the Burrow." Hermione said sheepishly and meant it.

"Well, young lady, I'm sure everyone will be absolutely thrilled to see you! I know I am. It's been so long dear." Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, smiling broadly.

"Too long. I'm sorry." Hermione whispered.

"Tut, tut!" Mrs. Weasley said, waving her hand dismissively. "None of that. You are a busy girl, all grown up with a life of your own. I couldn't expect you, Ron and Harry to stay fourteen forever; drinking pumpkin juice and playing Wizard's Chess on the kitchen table, now could I?"

Hermione let a genuine smile slip across her face.

"Now we must chat later. I'd love to hear all about what you've been up to. But, right now, there is just so much to do. Come! I'll take you out back. Ron's back there with Neville and Luna. Oh, and I believe Harry too. What a lovely surprise this will be." Mrs. Weasley didn't notice how Hermione's face paled. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, perhaps claim she had to use the bathroom, but knew it was too late. Everything was about to come to a head.

Harry stood, reaching his arms above his head in a stretch. The backyard had gotten more crowded. Clumps of guests stood around chatting and laughing. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Ron. His face was a visible shade of white as he darted back and forth between Neville and Luna, relaying some sort of message. Their eyes met briefly, but Ron looked away quickly. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck prick up. Ron's avoidance of eye contact was a clear indicator that something was up. Sighing deeply, Harry readied himself for whatever news lay ahead of him then sauntered coolly to where Neville stood.

"So…" Harry offered, watching Neville shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Ready?" Neville asked with a nervous smile and a quick glance around the backyard.

"To get married? I guess I better be." Harry laughed dryly, although he had a feeling Neville was questioning his preparation for something else.

Suddenly, seeing something behind Harry's head, Neville's eyes grew wide and his face paled. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and looked at him earnestly.

"Harry…" he began, but was cut off by a high pitched squeal as Mrs. Weasley flung the back door open.

"Oh my goodness! Look who wandered into my kitchen!"

Neville shook his head apologetically and Harry spun around slowly, letting his eyes go to where Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway.

In one smooth motion, Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione out from behind her. Hermione's face was white and she smiled awkwardly as Mrs. Weasley pushed her out into the backyard.

Harry's jaw clenched tightly and his stomach flip-flopped sickeningly. The unexpected sight of her robbed the breath from his lungs and he gulped at the air. His eyes took her in quickly, frantically. She looked smaller than he'd remembered and much more fragile. Her eyes roamed desperately around the backyard, seemingly looking for a place to hide. Harry watched her bottom lip quiver ever so slightly, one of the tell tale signs that she was nervous. He hated that he noticed this, he hated that he knew what it meant. More than anything, he hated how it made his throat tight. For a split second, Harry caught her wide brown eyes with his piercing green ones, but both looked away just as quickly. There were a few dragging moments of awkwardness, accompanied by the hammering beat of Harry's heart against his chest. Then a voice emerged.

"Hermione!!" Luna shrieked, moving across the yard to where Hermione stood.

Having broke the tension, a small group of old classmates and friends surrounded Hermione, giggling and hugging. Harry sighed and turned back towards Neville.

"Uh, oh. By the way, Hermione's here." Neville said, giving Harry a weak smile.

"Really? Thanks Neville." Harry responded sarcastically, his tongue feeling like sandpaper. "I'll be inside. Finishing getting ready. For my wedding."

Harry turned before Neville could respond and slipped around the front of the Burrow, desperate to avoid a run in with Hermione. He slid in through the front door and up the stairs to his room. Once safely behind the walls he let out a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair. She was here. She had come. A million thoughts and feelings coursed through Harry's body. He realized he hadn't really expected her to show up. He hadn't fully prepared himself for the possibility at all.

He was hurting in places he'd long ago learned to ignore, old wounds were closer to the surface than he had thought. He walked to the window over looking the backyard. Hermione stood below him, listening as Luna talked animatedly. His heart lurched as he stared secretively down, watching her shift from one foot to the other. He could almost see down the front of her dress from this angle, if she moved a bit to the left..

There was a knock at the bedroom door that made him leap three feet in the air. After taking a few deep breaths and regaining his composure, he called for his visitor to come in.

Ron opened the door and stuck his head in.

"Hey, mate."

Harry nodded, still catching his breath.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." Harry responded. "I'm fine."

"I was going to warn you she was here. I just…" Ron began apologetically.

"I'm fine." Harry interrupted. He didn't want to think about the whole situation right now. He certainly didn't want to talk about it.

Ron looked at the floor.

"Well, Mum said we should be ready to start soon. Just wanted me to make sure you're all ready."

"I am." Harry said sternly.

"Haven't seen my flask around, have you?" Ron asked, glancing around the room.

"No, sorry."

Ron sighed and gave Harry a nod, then quietly closed the door.

Harry sat on the bed in the middle of the room and hung his head between his knees. He closed his eyes, searching for strength he didn't know he'd be needing.

Hermione could feel herself shaking. Being pushed out into the backyard by Mrs. Weasley had felt like meat being thrown to a pack of hungry wolves. Merlin bless Luna for breaking the silence, or she thought she might have melted into a puddle. And, Harry had been out there. Harry had been in the backyard. Their eyes had met briefly; it had sent chills down her spine; but he'd looked away. And now, he'd disappeared completely. Seeing him had sent her heart careening wildly against her chest. He'd looked exactly how she remembered him. His black hair was rumpled atop his head, his eyes glowing as though illuminated by some hidden light source, his slender, fit physique noticeable even under a tuxedo. And then he was gone. She wished he would have stood there forever, letting her take him in. Her mouth was dry and although she was trying really hard to listen to Luna's animated conversation, her mind was racing. What had Harry thought when he'd seen her? Where had he gone? Had he felt anything, anything at all when Mrs. Weasley pushed her into his view? Could she work up the courage to face him? Was she just too late?

She suddenly felt claustrophobic. Time was pressing down on her. She could hear the buzz of Luna's voice in the background, but her mind was far from the backyard. It was back at the flat, back at the home she'd shared with Harry so long ago. She'd lost him once, she couldn't lose him again. But that was the problem; he wasn't hers. He was about to get married; married to someone else. He would never be hers again. Hermione's brain snapped back to reality as Luna paused in conversation. As the backyard came slowly into focus, Hermione spotted Ron coming out the backdoor of the Burrow. She'd come all this way and for what? Could she really pretend she'd come all the way back here to sit quietly on a white, wooden folding chair and watch the man she loved marry someone other than her?

"Luna, would you excuse me just a few minutes?" Hermione asked quietly.

Luna smiled lackadaisically, completely unaware that Hermione had been preoccupied through her entire story. It was the usual case that Luna appeared to be the only inhabitant on a world of her own.

"Of course."

Hermione smiled and nodded gratefully then quickly headed in Ron's direction. She could feel eyes on her, probing eyes. She was sure there were whispers accompanying the stares – questions as to how she'd had the nerve to show up; wondering what she was doing here and where she had been.

Ron saw Hermione coming his way out of the corner of his eye. Immediately his heart began beating wildly. He'd been hoping all day that she wouldn't show, even though he knew she would. It had made him feel anxious, which he tried to ignore. Someone was going to get hurt today, that much was certain and Ron hated that he might have a role in it. He had been dreading today, knowing full well it was inevitable. He was in a difficult spot that no amount of preparation could ready him for. It was why he hoped Harry would read the folded up note he'd tossed on the bed. Mistakes had been made, Ron knew this. However an unexpected turn of events had landed him in an extremely unfavorable position. Today would not end well.

"Ronald?" Hermione had reached the place where Ron stood, leaning awkwardly against one of the tent poles.

He seemed to hesitate before letting his eyes move to hers.

"Hi, Hermione."

There was a pause; both seemed to be carefully assessing the situation. Then, they hugged. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around Ron's neck and buried her face in his chest. She could feel warm tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She hated that so much time had passed. She hated that things had ever changed. Pulling away, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, don't do that." Ron said, shaking his head. He was hit with an unexpected surge of guilt. How could he have hoped she wouldn't come?

"How have you been?" Ron asked her quietly.

She shrugged. Talking to Ron exposed her in a way she wasn't expecting. When her old classmates and friends and even Luna had come up to her, she'd been able to easily field their questions. She'd claimed to have been super busy, working with Muggle Relations and continuing her quest to improve the lives of House Elves. Both were only partially true. She did occasionally help with both organizations, but for the most part she concerned herself with non-magical activities. Every swish and flick of her wand flooded her head with memories of Hogwarts, and Horcruxes and…Harry. But, talking to Ron was different. She couldn't lie to Ron; she couldn't even bring herself to twist the truth.

It wasn't just their friendship that bound her to honesty. It was because Ron knew. Ron knew better than anyone how she had been, because Ron was the only one, other than herself, who knew the truth.

Ron nodded.

"How about you?" Hermione asked.

Ron thought for a moment. Things had been pretty good for him, really. It was almost unfair. Her entire life had been turned upside down. He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"I've been good. I can't complain." he admitted.

Hermione smiled weakly. She was jealous that Ron's life had been unchanged for the most part. She envied all the time he'd been able to spend with Harry. She knew it was foolish to think this way; after all, none of what had happened had been Ron's fault. Still she couldn't help it. Hermione was suddenly again aware of eyes watching her. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"People are staring, aren't they?"

Ron glanced around the backyard.

"Yeah, some." he answered with a shrug. "Ignore them. They're just surprised to see you probably."

Hermione wasn't so sure ''surprised" was the proper word. Disgusted, maybe. Surely some of them knew the story and those who didn't had most likely made up their own. Harry was always the hero, in which case she had become the villain. These stares were not of curiosity, they were of contempt.

"I'd offer you a drink, but I lost my flask somewhere." Ron said, checking all his pockets for the umpteenth time.

Hermione gave a small laugh and shook her head.

There was a lull in the conversation. Ron knew he needed to proceed carefully. He cleared his throat and faced the elephant that had been standing between them.

"So…have you seen Harry?"

Hermione's throat caught at the mention of his name and her jaw noticeably tightened. She took a deep breath.

"For a moment. Before, when your Mum first took me out into the backyard. Then, he was gone. I'm sure he has a lot to do before the…" she paused and swallowed hard, "…the wedding. He's very busy I'd imagine. I'm sure we'll have time to catch up after the ceremony."

Studying her face, Ron sighed. There would be no catching up after the ceremony. Judging by Hermione's horribly fake dismissive front of nonchalance, he doubted she'd stick around long if it came to that. He was terribly torn but, he knew what had to be done. There was only one course of action that would make any sense. He had to do the right thing, not the easy thing. Easy would be continuing to converse with Hermione, making her promise to not disappear again after today. Easy would be standing on the altar beside his best mate, listening to Harry vow his love, life and devotion to Ginny. Easy would be polishing off one entire tier of wedding cake himself. Easy, but wrong.

"He's up there." Ron whispered, nodding toward the second story windows of the Burrow. "The old study; it's a bedroom now."

"What? Ron…I don't…I couldn't…" Hermione began, but Ron held up his hand to silence her.

"Hey, I'm just saying. Ya know, if anyone should want to talk to him." With that he gave her another quick squeeze. "Better see if Mum needs any help. Don't go disappearing on me again."

She nodded and he took off across the backyard, leaving her drowning in thoughts. She glanced up at the window Ron had motioned towards. She imagined Harry standing up there, obsessively adjusting his bowtie and trying desperately to flatten his messy, black hair with his fingers. She sighed. Her feet were rooted in place. The opportunity she'd been waiting for had just presented itself and she couldn't move. She couldn't possibly face him.

She wanted to cry. She wanted someone to tell her what to do. She wanted to crawl back into the sedan, drive home and forget she'd ever come. But more than any of that, she wanted Harry. She wanted to wrap her arms around him so tightly, he couldn't breathe. She wanted to stare into his eyes, getting lost in the flecks of emerald green as he ran his thumb across her jawline. She wanted to feel his love, his passion, wrap around her, enveloping her in a sheet of warmth. She wanted to hear him say he loved her, wanted to drink his words and taste his lips. She closed her eyes. He was so close; a short flight of stairs away – but those things she imagined, those things she wanted were eons in the past. She'd have to be delusional to think she could go up there, run into his arms and explain everything. Or maybe, minus the running into his arms part, it was exactly what she needed to do.

She could feel eyes on her again. Poor Hermione Granger, standing alone in the backyard, unaware that everyone is shocked she showed. That's what she imagined them saying, whispering snidely amongst each other. She lifted her chin. She'd come this far; she'd endured the trip, the awkward reuniting with friends, the glaring proof that Harry was in fact about to be married. She'd went two years, carrying the weight of her regret, her lies, and now, she could finally put them down if she would just balk up enough courage. She took a defiant step toward the Burrow. It was now or never and that was enough to at least set her in Harry's direction.