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Chapter 37 - The Wedding Continued -
Looking in the mirror that hung on the bedroom door, Hermione surveyed her reflection. She looked the way she always dreamed she would look on her wedding day. Ginny helped her with her hair, putting it up softly. She placed wildflowers and purple heather throughout her hair. Ginny even made her a beautiful bouquet of blue flowers. That was her something blue. Her dress was simple, thin straps, flowing silk, fitting her like the proverbial glove. Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Now, all she needed was her groom. Harry opened the door. "Blimey, Hermione." Harry felt like crying. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. "You are a vision."
Hermione laughed and looked at the floor. He put one hand under her chin and saw she was blushing. He smiled. "Your red face doesn't go with your outfit, so cut that out," he said.
"Is Draco back?" Hermione asked.
"I didn't know he was gone," Harry said concerned. All of the sudden, he had thoughts that perhaps this whole thing was a Malfoy ploy of some kind, or perhaps if the way he felt for her in the last twenty-four hours wasn't completely fabricated, than maybe he developed cold feet at the last moment. Harry would kill him, either way.
"Fleur said he went to tell his parents," Hermione said.
"Why? They won't lower themselves to come to the Burrow for a wedding between their son and a Muggle-born," Harry said crassly.
"At least he is telling them," Hermione said plaintively.
Harry smiled, for her sake, and said, "Well, it's five minutes to one. If he plans on getting married at one, he has five minutes to arrive." He took a deep breath, so he would not be tempted to say anymore. He opened the door, and walked out to the hall. Ginny was outside. "Where's Malfoy? Has he returned?" Harry asked his wife.
"No, oh Harry, you don't think he's not coming back, do you?" Ginny asked.
"I will kill him, if he doesn't. I swear by all that is holy, I will kill him, and they can lock me up for my entire life, but I will kill him. What if this whole thing was some elaborate ploy to humiliate all of us? Or even worse, what if he decides just to stand her up, because he's changed his mind? I mean this; I won't be responsible if he dies today." Harry stormed downstairs, his wife closely on his heels.
Hermione stood by her door, having heard everything they said to each other. It had not crossed her mind that he might change his mind. This was all his idea anyway. There was no way this day wasn't real. At least she knew that much. Even if he had cold feet, she knew deep in her heart that their feelings for each other were real. It was solid. It was genuine. If not, Hermione Granger was the biggest fool on the face of this green earth! Hermione paced back and forth in the room. This was a mistake! Now, she was going to look like a fool in front of everyone. Wouldn't Ron and Pansy just love this? She couldn't even open the door to ask anyone if he had returned, for she was too embarrassed.
Everyone sat around the long kitchen table. Hermione's dad and Mr. Weasley were on the front porch. Mrs. Weasley and her mum went out to join them. Charlie loosened his tie, and said, "Well, it's one o'clock. Twenty-four hours is over. He's not here, and I don't think he's coming back."
Harry's face was red, and he was clenching both his fists, so tightly, that his knuckles were white.
Fleur said, "He's only been gone a little over fifteen minutes. It is not an easy thing to tell your parents that you're marrying someone you barely know. Let's not give up on him so soon."
"He said one o'clock though," George reminded her. "When he ran out the door, to go to the Manor, he yelled back, 'I'll be back by one', and he's not here."
Percy said, "Maybe they won't let him return. Stranger things have happened. I wouldn't put anything past Lucius."
"I agree with Percy and with Fleur. It's either he can't return, or it is just taking longer than he thought, but give him time. I really think he loves her. I've seen the way he looks at her, and it's the way I look at my wife," Bill said. His wife came and sat on his lap.
Ginny was holding the baby, and she said, "I'll take Victoire outside. If I see him, I'll let you all know."
Hermione had been standing on the stairs, again listening to the entire exchange. She had decided to come downstairs, put on a brave face, and face them all, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring. She could not possibly do that now, knowing what they were all thinking, and hearing what they were all saying. They were all feeling sorry for her again, and she was not going to be a part of it.
She ran back upstairs, went to Ginny's room, and shut the door.
"Should someone go up to Hermione?" Percy asked.
"No, let her be. She's probably worried enough," Charlie said.
What they did not know was that Hermione Granger was no longer even at the Burrow.
She was sitting in the same pew, in the same exact spot, that she sat in a little over twenty-four hours ago, right after Ron and Pansy's wedding. She was crying, just as she had twenty-four hours ago. She was a fool. This hurt worse than anything Ron could have done to her. Hermione didn't want to hurt anymore. She was so tired of the pain, and the hurt. Why couldn't life be easier? Was it so wrong that she wanted happiness? Was it so wrong that she wanted marriage, children, and a career? Why couldn't she have it all, if she wanted it?
No one was going to hurt Hermione Granger ever again. She would not allow it.
She heard the door to the little chapel open, and without turning around, she knew in her heart it was he, she didn't even know what she was going to say to him, and she didn't know what he was going to say to her.
He sat directly behind her. He reached up to her hair, removing one of the small flowers, and placed it in his lapel's buttonhole, so he would have a boutonniere. He heard her sobbing, and it broke his heart.
He started to hum the wedding march. She didn't see the humour in his folly. Next, he said, more to himself, than to her, "This is a pretty little chapel after all. I'm shocked Ron and Pansy picked it out; it doesn't seem their taste. Maybe this would be a nice place for me to get married someday."
She said, more to herself, than to him, "This was always the place I had wanted to get married. Ron would not even have known about it, if I had not brought him here one day. I might get married here someday, too."
"Well, it's a pretty little place," he repeated. He leaned forward in the pew, placing his hands on the back of her seat.
"Yes, it is," she agreed.
"Maybe we will get married here," he said, adding a moment later, "someday."
She was quiet for a while. Did that mean he did not want to get married today? Did that mean he still wanted to marry her, only someday, not today? She was more confused than ever. She could not help herself, so she began to cry again.
It took all his resolve not to scoop her in his arms, and kiss her until she stopped crying. He decided to cut to the chase. "Did you seriously think I would stand you up? Did you really doubt my love for you?" he asked.
"It's after one," she stated, not looking back at him.
"So, is there a law saying this whole thing had to conclude in exactly twenty-four hours? Because if you want to get technical, the wedding started before one pm, and I saw you at the chapel, even if you were not aware I was here, so it has already been over twenty-four hours. I admit, the thought of a twenty-four hour courtship seems more romantic, so when we relay this story to our children someday, we can just shave an hour off, here or there," he explained. His hand went to rest on her shoulder.
Her head still hung low. She sighed. He leaned far up in the seat, and reached his hand to her face, forcing her to look around at him. He brushed a tear away, and then kissed her cheek.
"Don't ever cry for me, Granger. It breaks my heart to see your heart breaking. When I arrived back at the Burrow, I immediately went to find you, and when I couldn't, I went out of my mind with worry. The first thing I thought was that you had cold feet, and changed your mind. Then, I realized, that was probably what you thought about me. After I escaped the wrath of Potter, I came here to find you. Everyone is looking for you. I somehow knew you would be here," he said. He stood up, put his leg unceremoniously over the back of her pew, and sat beside her. He took one of her hands in both of his, stroking it gently.
"How did it go with your parents?" she asked, finally looking at him. However, he was now looking away.
"Not good. They were angry. I can't help how they feel. I hoped they would be as understanding as your parents were, but that was hoping for too much, and I only just realized that. You're my family, now," he said. He kissed her hand. He regretted his parents' decision not to come, but he would not dwell on it.
"I will always be your family," she told him. He leaned over and kissed her sweet lips.
"That's more than I could ever hope," he said sincerely. "By the way, do you see that I have a purple tie on? Rule number ten, Granger is always right."
Hermione laughed and said, "Let us change that rule, right here, right now, to say, no matter what, we will love and protect each other forever."
"I like the Granger is always right one, but if you would rather have the love one, we can change it. After all, you're always right," he jested. He brought his hand up to her face; cupping is slightly, before kissing her again. "I can't be caught marrying a woman with red eyes and a running nose. You better get yourself together if you plan to marry me."
"Maybe I've changed my mind," she said, trying to stand up. He pulled her back down. He saw she was smiling brightly.
"Fine, keep your bloody, red eyes and nose. They can be your 'something red'." He stood up and said, "Come, we have a wedding to go to right now, and word is, we are late." He took her by her shoulders and stood her up, saw her flowers on the pew beside her, handed them to her, and then offered her his hand.
She took the flowers, but not his hand. "Will you go and bring everyone back here? We can still have our reception there, but I think I would like to be married in this chapel, after all. We kind of met here, well, re-met here, so I think it's fitting," she said.
"I think that's fitting, too. It all started here, so it should conclude here. If I leave, you won't run away will you?" he asked. He seriously thought that might be a possibility.
"Ye of little faith," she told him, "I would no sooner leave you, than you would leave me, apparently." She sat back down.
He bent down, looked her square in the eyes, and said, "That's reassuring, for I'm never leaving you. I'm in this until death do us part. Just think, in a few moments, you will be my wife. I can barely believe it's true." He kissed her hand and ran out the chapel. She stood up, walked up to the pulpit, and waited. She was getting married today.
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