Hermione Granger took a deep breath, admiring herself in the mirror. Her heart was pounding in her chest, sweat prickled her palms. She smoothed her hands down the front of her ivory gown, her hair pinned out of her face. Would her parents be happy for her? She wondered to herself, nervously picking at the skin around her nail bed. Hermione knew that there would be jitters the morning of her wedding but she didn't anticipate the absolute dread in the pit of her stomach. "Get a grip Hermione…" she chastised herself. This is Ron we are talking about; you've known him most of your life. She tried to psych herself up, going over all the reasons that she should be walking down the aisle. It was just a shame that the reasons not to seemed to creep themselves forward. Angrily she sat down on the small settee in the corner of the bridal suite, grabbing the glass of champagne Ginny left her, she downed it, hoping the alcohol would give her some sort of level headedness.
Hermione nervously tapped her heel against the hardwood, sitting and dwelling would do nothing. Standing back up she gathered her skirts in her free hand, making her way to the open window. Fresh air should help. Half covered by the curtains Hermione watched the last of the guests make their way into the entryway below her. Standing beside the column was her husband to be, his fiery hair combed neatly back. He seemed tense, she decided, peering her eyes at him. Then one lone figure made her way up the long pathway to the chapel. Her hair was down, ebony curls pushed over one shoulder, she was small and very pretty, dressed in a short red muggle dress. The woman smiled at Ron and he ran at her, and to Hermione's horror, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her hotly. She backed away from the window, dropping her glass and it shattering on the floor. The couple outside sprang apart, and there was a knock at the door behind her.
"Hermione, are you alright dear? We heard a crash." Mr. Weasley's voice came from the other side of the door.
"I'm fine! Just knocked over a glass with my skirts." She stammered, trying to dab the tears forming in her eyes. Hermione has suspected for a while now that Ron was having an affair, he proposed as Hermione was beginning to pull away. He caught her looking at apartments and then the next day had a ring ready, Hermione thought that he was right. But during the last six months of planning the wedding he pulled away heavily, leaving it all on her shoulders. Now she knew why, he was busy.
Mr. Weasley opened the door, "are you sure you're alright?" Hermione almost broke then and there, how could she possibly tell the man who loved her as one of his own, that she couldn't marry his son. She forced out a smile and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Well if you're sure, they're ready for you." Hermione went to the door and took Mr. Weasley's arm, allowing him to guide her down the stairs. She readied herself to say no to his face, going over it in her head. Together they walked down the stairs heading towards the aisle. As Hermione turned to face the open door, she looked at the packed chapel, all their friends and Ron's family, gathered to celebrate their supposed love. But as she scanned the seats closest to the door, she noticed a familiar face in a red dress. The woman looked at Hermione and smirked, she had seen this woman before. In the Ministry, she worked in the same department at Ron and Harry. Hermione snapped her gaze back at Ron, who couldn't hide the guilt on his face. Mr. Weasley kept walking Hermione further down the aisle, and she sudden froze halfway. "I can't do this." She muttered, only loud enough for Mr. Weasley to hear.
"What do you mean dear?" he quickly turned to her, and she looked at him pale, with tears in her eyes.
"I can't do this." Her voice caught in her throat, speaking a little louder. All eyes were on her, as she gave Mr. Weasley's arm a squeeze. "I'm sorry." Hermione gave one final look towards Ron, who remained silent, before she turned and ran. The voices of confusion ringing out behind her.