A/N: Soooo... I was gonna post/start a new fic buuuut the thought of having three WIP stories was just too much for my brain to handle. I need to finish one story, or nearly finish one, before I try to begin a third so I put my focus back onto Years. Why draw it out?

With that being said, here is the penultimate chapter!

Years From Now

Chapter 26

May 1, 2009

A European ICW delegate was murdered on Harry's ninth day as Head Auror, marking the end of a turbulent week for him and the first day of his and Hermione's wedding month. To complicate matters further, Magicals, rise! was found on the scene. The killing came with the quick explanation that archaic establishments that kept witches and wizards confined and hidden needed to be abolished, and it should begin with the original.

It caused an uproar that stirred transitory panic. Minister Shacklebolt spent half of the day on Floo calls and taking meetings, and afterward he informed Hermione and Harry that they were spending the weekend in Prague at an emergency, overnight meeting called by the ICW. They were to leave that evening at 7PM and be in session the entirety of Saturday, joining numerous heads of law enforcement divisions from a variety of countries, along with a couple of ministers and presidents. The couple accepted without an ounce of complaint or uncertainty and, after work ended, they hastily packed before depositing Bastet at Grimmauld and then taking their portkey to the Czech Republic.

It was no romantic getaway in any sense. Even with the extra bit of time they had that night, they mostly spoke of the murder and its fallout. Harry was grim because he knew this had to be the act G mentioned in their letter to him, a conclusion with which Hermione (and Kingsley) agreed. A death had been carried out with him in mind… perhaps G had known this was a foolproof way to get Harry involved or perhaps they had wanted to make his start as Head Auror hellish. Regardless, Hermione worried that her fiance would take the official's death as a personal failure and did not want him to view this as another life taken because Harry Potter existed.

"You can't put this on your shoulders, Harry," she advised. She rubbed her thumb over his hand as they sat against each other on the hotel room's couch, "Gee likely planned to kill this person long ago and saw your appointment as chief as a way to sweeten the deal. They used it to their benefit."

"I understand that," he exhaled, his head placed on the backrest, "I just don't want this to become a trend. People are killed in order to lure out England's Head Auror…. Too many people have died because of me or for me since I was born and I can't take anymore."

She wanted to say that she knew but she did not. While Hermione desperately wished he did not have to live with that burden and the guilt it caused, and did not even agree with it, she would never understand how it made him feel.

She leaned over and kissed his neck, upset she could not shield him from this.

"Maybe it was a mistake for me to become chief. I didn't think it all the way through. I've put myself front and center." Harry mumbled.

"It was most certainly not a mistake," the brunette quickly corrected, peering at him sternly, "Don't let them make you doubt yourself. Don't let them take this victory from you." He looked at her seriously before nodding.

When they tired of discussing G and the heaviness that came with it, they changed the topic to the Malfoys and their new, unborn member. Both were shocked at the idea of Draco Malfoy as a father and avidly wondered how his parents felt about having a grandchild. Harry admitted he could see Narcissa being a loving grandmother but could not envision the same for Lucius, balking at the idea of the man affectionately holding an infant.

"He had to have held Draco," she laughed.

"We have no proof of that. Probably put a blond wig on a house elf and claimed he did," came the reply. She laughed more, glad to have the distraction from the gravity of the day.

The ICW and invited government representatives convened at 8AM on Saturday morning and met for 10 hours. The meeting was tense and the worry was palpable. The organization was troubled over G and their rising threat and wanted to find a way to cripple them before they gained more traction. Hermione spoke for quite some time as she had the longest history of direct contact with G out of everyone present, and Harry testified for a bit about the letter he received only days previously. When the delegates discussed methods to obstruct G, the dark haired wizard suggested that each country place feelers in its communities: law enforcement workers from various departments to infiltrate G's movement and gather intel. The idea was well received and the Supreme Mugwump announced that every nation's government should have a task force devoted solely to G.

"The last thing Earth needs is yet another corrupt magical bent on changing the world," the Mugwump asserted, "It is a tradition that needs to be permanently eradicated!"

When Hermione and Harry returned to the UK on Saturday evening, they sluggishly ate dinner at Grimmauld before their tiredness got the better of them and took them under, inducing them to fall asleep by 8PM. The succeeding day, they had an appointment with Gabrielle via Floo that had been rescheduled from the previous day due to the urgent meeting. (It was meant to be her day off but they were her friends and getting married in less than two weeks so she willingly made the exception). They went over details- enough details to make Harry's head fuzzy after the week he had. He was relieved there was nothing else planned for the day because he simply wanted to decompress, and he knew Hermione needed that as well.

"Twelve days left! It iz really almost 'ere!" the French witch commented at the meeting's conclusion, grinning beautifully.

"I can honestly say that I can't believe it, Gabrielle." Hermione mused, slumping against her partner's body and watching her cat fiddle with the room's rug.

The other rescheduled appointment Harry had to keep was with Ashlyn and it happened two days later on Tuesday. Like Gabrielle, he had planned to see the mental Healer on Saturday, and he apologized immensely when he cancelled because it was his second time doing so in two weeks. He repeated the sentiment out loud when he, finally, walked into her office for his session but she waved him off as he sat down.

"Your new title has kept you extremely busy! That's understandable." Ashlyn said.

"Much busier than I was anticipating. I didn't expect I'd be sitting on my arse but this is..." Harry began before ending on a sigh.

"Well, many congratulations on your new position! It's quite the achievement."

"Thank you."

"So how have you been then, Harry, since I last saw you?" she questioned.

"Busy," he noted with a tiny smirk, causing her to laugh.

It took about 20 minutes before Harry lay his stressors, and the worries attached to them, bare before Ashlyn. They centered around his role as Head Auror and the wedding, and the common thread between both was the fear of loss; when she asked him to expound on this fear, he attested that he was fearful of losing Hermione.

"I'm afraid I'm… condemning her by marrying her. I'm endangering her!" the wizard stated.

"How so?" Ashlyn softly wondered.

"Someone was allegedly killed in my honor as chief, according to Gee. I told Hermione in October when they sent her acid, fucking acid!, that she would be a target when we got married. More of a target than she already has been, simply because she's my wife. And next week she will be!"

"How long has this been on your mind? How long have you actively worried about this?"

"Honestly? Since January," Harry mentioned. One hand was compulsively running through his hair while the other was wedged under his left leg, "I've lost nearly everyone I love most in my life. I hate thinking about just how many people I've lost so I usually don't. But this forces me to think about Hermione in that scenario and… I blank out. It's too much to imagine. I-I couldn't handle it if I lost her. I'd go mad. Truly mad."

There was intentional silence before the Healer responded.

"I know that's something we've talked about extensively in the past: the remorse that follows you when you think about people with connections to you who have died. People you loved who have died," she started, "The question I asked then was if you think they would have blamed you. A question I have now, for the killing related to Gee, is if you believe they would have killed the delegate with or without your supposed involvement? Is that your guilt to take? Were you directly responsible for the murder?"

"Hermione basically said the same thing," he muttered after a long moment. His hand stopped its movement and he peered at her somewhat abashedly.

"She's extremely wise- we know this. So, my question regarding her is if marrying her is what will make her vulnerable, make her a target, as you said? Is marriage the defining factor that will make others come after her, even knowing that she's been by your side since you were both children? Having the official title of your wife- is that what will do her in?"

"No… she'd be targeted no matter what, truthfully, even if we'd only stayed friends. Hell, even if she hadn't been my friend… she's intelligent beyond belief and she's a Muggleborn. Someone would've noticed her anyway."

"I agree. Excellent points," Ashlyn remarked with a nod, "And so I offer one last question for your consideration: is this gripping fear of losing Hermione enough for you to call off the wedding?" Harry sat straight up and gazed at her resolutely, his brow drawn inward.

"Never," he uttered. She gave him a bright smile and inclined her head.

"It's prudent to be cautious, Harry, of course. To be aware of the attention you garner and how that may affect the people closest to you is necessary. But you should be mindful when it mutates into fear and becomes powerful enough to dictate your life or your decisions."

At the end of the session, Ashlyn informed her client that he had to decide if he wanted to extend his time with her or end it yet again, reminding him that, in January, he'd said he would maintain sessions until May. However, the Healer added that Harry did not have to make the choice at that moment and could reflect on it for a few days, but he revealed that was uncalled for.

"I reckon I should continue. My life's taken a lot of turns- there've been loads of changes- and I'm going to need more time with you to sort through them all," the wizard relayed with a small smile.

"And I'll be happy to keep helping," she warmly replied, "Take the rest of the month for yourself and the woman you love dearly, and I will see you in June when you're a married man."

The rest of Harry's week did not slow down and kept true to the theme of busy he'd mentioned to Ashlyn. The mess with G had made things dicier for his start as the new chief and he still had the myriad of regular duties to execute. An unexpected portion of his and Hermione's time had been taken to expand, revitalize and debrief the initial team of Aurors meant to monitor G, while he had to also collaborate with the Lead Hit Witch, review endless case reports, and discipline an Auror two years out of the academy, just to name a couple tasks. Additionally, minute wedding matters often popped up when he and Hermione got home in the evenings so commotion, though mild, would find them after work too, leaving sleep the only time he was wholly unbothered for a long stretch of time.

Filled with distinct tension that he needed to expel, Harry welcomed Saturday and the chance to play Quidditch with his friends with open arms. The men convened at Ron's home at noon, Luna having taken the twins to visit her father, and had two crates of cold butterbeer to make the afternoon more enjoyable. Simultaneously, Hermione was glad to have the time Harry was gone exclusively for herself with no obligations from anyone or anything, as she knew it had been denied to her for over two weeks. The first thing she did was nap; after that, she had food delivered from a favorite restaurant that she ate while watching mindless television for an hour, then she began reading a novel she'd wanted to start five weeks ago but had been unable.

The brunette had been immersed in the story for almost an hour before her provisional peace was shattered in the form of paper. Upon receiving it, she jumped from the couch and dislodged her kitten as all the color drained from her face, before she ran to her room to stuff on a pair of shoes and Disapparate out of the apartment.

Hermione's gaze was focused as she marched to the Welcoming Wizard's desk minutes later and took in as much stabilizing breath as she could.

"I'm here for my fiance. Where is he?" she demanded, catching the man off guard. The Muggleborn had tears in her eyes and had not bothered with any pleasantries. She was afraid and in disbelief that Harry had been admitted to St. Mungo's, and in no mood to pretend that the Welcome Wizard would not know who she or her fiance was.

"Madam Gra-… erm!," he commenced in greeting before changing his mind and rushing to grab the patient list, "M-Mr. Potter is on this floor. Room 21."

"Thank you."

Hermione flounced off as he marked her name as a visitor, and she strode along the floor with purpose until she soon came upon Harry's room. She pushed the door open without hesitation and he instinctively turned to see whom had entered.

"Hermione!," he noted, moving to sit up in the bed properly.

"Stay down," she commanded. Harry drew his head back in surprise but listened to her. She walked inside, the door closing behind her, and pulled a chair to sit next to the bed.

"Are you okay? Is anything serious the matter?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his left arm. There was clear concern in her eyes as she looked him over.

"Nothing very serious, no. I'm mostly okay… now," he relayed.

"What happened? The message said it wasn't a fatal injury but I've been worried sick since getting it!"

The dark haired wizard grimaced and turned his face to the right but she did not miss that his cheeks had reddened. He did not seem to want to answer and the witch frowned at this.

"Harry," she stated sharply. The concern that lurked in her gaze was replaced by vexation.

"Quidditch." Harry mumbled.

"Quidditch?"

"Yeah."

"Well wha… what exactly is wrong with you?" Hermione questioned.

"I was flying and I may have been… hit by a bludger. In my back. In my lower back," he reported.

"WHAT!"

"Dean caught me before I could fall to the ground and-"

"Oh my God," she said, a hand going to her forehead.

"The match was casual, not competitive, but a bludger got me anyway! It wasn't intentional-" Harry started.

"If it was casual then why were bludgers involved?!"

"It's not the same without bludgers, Hermione."

"Ugh! Quidditch is so asinine!," Hermione yelled, thumping a fist on the bed, "Do you know how critical of an area your lower back is on your body?!"

"Yes-" the wizard tried to start.

"Your lower back, Harry!"

"You're not letting me explain!"

The witch glared at him and it was cutting. A moment of silence passed.

"What is there to explain, Harry? Why did Dean have to catch you?" she wondered. Harry dropped his gaze.

"I… I couldn't move," he replied.

"Yes. So you were halfway paralyzed and would've smashed into the ground had our friend not gotten to you. How long were you unable to move?"

"Until the lads got me here. They had to levitate me but, but I could technically move, it was just… extremely painful when I did."

"Mmm," Hermione uttered, staring blankly at him, "Anything else to explain?"

"Two potions and some spellwork later and I'm fine, and my back is only a little strained. And they worked fast because I haven't even been here an hour! So, so it's all right. I'm all right." Harry declared.

"No, it is NOT all right! Do you know how it feels to be told on a Saturday afternoon, an afternoon that is supposed to be calming for you!, that the person you are going to marry in a matter of days has been hurt and is in the hospital? Hmm? Do you?"

"No..."

"Well let me tell you it is quite alarming!," she asserted, jabbing a finger at him, "But then I come to find out that you were put in the hospital by your own doing, because of some stupid, violent sport you insist on playing as though it isn't DEADLY!"

Harry stared at her with an open mouth, stunned. He was terribly lost as to why his fiancee was reacting so vehemently to his accident. It seemed noticeably out of proportion to the situation.

"What's going on? Why are you so upset over this?," he posed, resolving to not simply accept her anger, "You know I love Quidditch. You know I play Quidditch sometimes- that isn't new to you. And I've been hurt before; that definitely isn't news to you!"

"I'm upset because there is already more than enough stress than I know what to do with! More does not need to be added! And this, Harry- you being in that bed- is stressful! The new development with G made things at work tick up a few notches. Our wedding is next week! Is that not enough excitement for you? Enough action?"

The dark haired wizard opened his mouth to retort, to inform Hermione that he had been playing Quidditch to release the stress she spoke of! Conversely, before he could, she was speaking again.

"Getting the message that you were here at St. Mungo's seemed like it stopped time itself. I was so scared… and I hate how casual the voice sounds when it's delivering the information."

Hermione recalled the parchment appearing suddenly while she sat on the sofa with the book in her hands and Bastet at her side. She had frozen, recognizing the hospital's insignia, and watched as it unfolded only for a monotone, pleasant feminine voice to pour forth:

"You are being contacted by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in regard to a patient. The patient- Harry Potter- has not sustained a fatal injury. Your presence is needed as soon as possible. Thank you."

Hermione put her arms around herself once the memory faded while Harry gave a sad frown.

"I told Ron to send you a Patronus. But he said he couldn't… he was too nervous, too unfocused," he revealed in a low voice.

"Where is Ron? The others?" she inquired, her eyes on the bed.

"I told him he could leave once they righted me. They'd just called for you, too, so I told him I'd be fine. He must have gotten the lads from the reception area and left."

The brunette nodded and exhaled. When she peered at him once more, Harry was startled to see that she appeared to be on the verge of crying.

"I just want to marry you, Harry. I just want to marry you without something more getting in the way," admitted Hermione. His heart stuttered as he comprehended what had been fueling her anger.

"Oh, love," he stated, sounding remorseful, "Come here." Harry scooted back and gestured for her to join him in the bed, not caring that it was improper for his recovery to be disrupted in such a way. Hermione did not seem to care either because she climbed in without thought and immediately cuddled against him.

"Does this hurt your back?" she asked, looking into the green eyes she cherished so ardently. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry you were scared, that you were worried. And you're right- we do have more than enough stress. I'm sorry I caused more."

"I know it wasn't purposeful, but… no more Quidditch until we're married?"

"No more Quidditch until we're married." Harry confirmed. She gave a worn smile and raised her face, indicating she wanted a kiss. He gave it.

"Are you going to be released today?" questioned Hermione.

"Most likely. The Healer said they'll wait a couple hours to make sure the pain doesn't return and, if it doesn't, I'm free to go."

"Good. I'd rather have you in my bed tonight than this one."

"Is that so? Would we do anything particular in your bed?" he pondered.

"Like what?" she responded, an amused look overtaking her countenance.

"Oh, I dunno… something that will make us both very happy? Something that will get our hearts thumping? Something that hasn't happened since Monday?"

"Has it really been five days?" Hermione asked, sounding incredulous. She pulled back to look at him.

"Mmm. But we can easily rectify that tonight. Or right now if you're willing," Harry remarked with a wicked grin, "My back is better, after all."

"And we'll keep it that way, because it'd be such a pity if you had a relapse by way of shagging." She returned his grin and kissed his cheek when he pouted in a disgruntled fashion.

Two and a half hours later, Harry was given one bottle of pain potion and sent on his way. Hermione had stayed with him until his release but he felt guilty for disrupting her "me time " so he swore to let her have what was left of the day to herself and retreated to his own apartment, informing her to call him over when she was ready to settle for the night and have their romp in bed.

"Your very own gigolo," he joked, a winning grin on his face. He walked backwards toward the fireplace and blew her a kiss.

Hermione laughed before pushing him through the Floo and making her way to the couch with a sigh, intent on jumping right back into her book. It was never a dull moment with that man, and in six days she would pledge herself to a lifetime of those moments.

The first thing Harry did when he got out of bed on the morning of May 15th was stare out of the bedroom window. He was at Grimmauld and the sun had barely risen but he could sleep any longer, or pretend to sleep any longer. He stood at the window and thought on things as he gazed into the burgeoning light. He was expected at Neville's house at 7:30AM to eat breakfast with his groomsmen before they ventured to the venue at 9:30AM to rehearse and prepare for the day's event: his wedding.

The first thing Hermione did when she got out of bed on the morning of May 15th was have a cup of tea in the empty kitchen. She was at her parents' house and the sun had been up for 20 minutes, though she has been awake for longer. She sat at the table and reflected on things as Robert, Jean, and her grandmother Clare slept upstairs. She considered breakfast but knew she would wait for her family to rise in order to eat the meal with them before she ventured to the gardens at 9:30AM to meet her bridesmaids and ready for the day's event: her wedding.

The day was here at last. They were to marry, at last.

The couple spent the previous night apart after an eventful day at the Ministry. They squared things away with Kingsley and their substitutes for the following two weeks: the Deputy DMLE Head for Hermione and a seasoned, former Auror captain turned Wizengamot member for Harry. They had also been showered with endless starry gazes and well wishes for the wedding from other employees and even received a number of gifts, including the entire Auror force that had accosted Harry on his way out and presented him with a present so large he'd had to shrink it down. The decision to separate for the evening had been mutual and made weeks beforehand, cited as a personal time for them to contemplate the significance of the next day and their awaiting union.

"Try to avoid ending your night with another trip to Mungo's." Hermione had jested, smiling up at him.

"What? Don't want to have the ceremony in a hospital room?," Harry quipped in return, eyes roving over her blissful face. It was quiet as they stared at each other and the amusement faded, "I love you."

The brunette's eyes had taken on a sheen before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a stirring kiss that made both of their heads spin. Afterward, she'd broken away without saying anything more and quickly Disapparated before tears could fall.

Hermione reappeared on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow. It was one of two specific places she wanted to be that night, and she peered around at her surroundings before beginning her trek to the graveyard. She took her time walking through the village, witnessing the life that exuded from the residents behind their homes' doors or the open doors of businesses that welcomed the activity of a spring evening. When the Muggleborn reached the cemetery and the Potters' plots, she conjured a thin blanket before plopping down. This was her first time visiting Lily and James on her own and she braced herself as she stared at their headstones because, even though they were not alive, Harry's parents still meant something to her.

Hermione stayed for half an hour. She spoke to the couple about the wedding, her feelings about it, and her feelings about their son. She cried as she thanked them for their sacrifice but cursed that they had had to make it at all, wishing Harry was able to have them with him on his wedding day. She said she knew that they were proud of their child and she promised to love and protect him as much as they had. When she was done, she placed a modest bouquet of the wedding flowers between them and thanked them one last time.

The second location Hermione visited, and stayed, that night was her parents' house. Her paternal grandmother was present as well in anticipation of the wedding, and the family had already eaten dinner when she arrived from Godric's Hollow. However, they still sat with her and ate dessert while she took dinner, and she felt a sense of peace being surrounded by them at the table. It seemed a perfect way to spend the eve of her wedding. The majority of her life had been magical and, consequently, closed off to her Muggle family in a way they could not breach, so this was wonderful.

The witch also had a moving conversation with her mother right before they went to bed. She brought up some of the talking points that she had with James and Lily, and she asked her mother about her and her father's wedding; she asked candid questions as a woman facing down her own marriage to the man to whom she was devoted. Hermione cried for the second time that night but they were happy tears, and she felt a sense of understated serenity wash over her when Jean left her room and left her with the reality of what was to come tomorrow.

Harry, meanwhile, had chosen that night to wander. He ate a fast dinner, retrieved his Firebolt, and began a flight with no true destination in mind. He flew for hours. He flew all over. He reveled in the joy he found in the darkened sky, reveled in the liberation it afforded him and the opportunity to sincerely live in the moment. He did not have to think in the air, and when he did, they were thoughts of a woman he adored more than anyone or anything. When Harry finally bothered to think of a landing spot, it was relatively late and he had circled back near London. The bespectacled wizard had not intended to spend his night alone; in fact, earlier he'd pondered going to visit Teddy and Andromeda, the Burrow, or Ron- visiting the people he loved. But as he ended his journey and directed his broom to Islington and his townhome that was situated there, he recognized that he would see his kin the succeeding day. Yet more importantly, Harry recognized that solitude was what he had needed, what had been best for him on the eve of his wedding.

And now the pair would go about their individual mornings for a bit before reconvening with one another and their closest friends in order to begin a new part of their lives that had been perfectly cultivated for nearly 18 years.

The gardens were nothing short of beautiful when the wedding party entered them.

There was not much up in the way of structures yet but the natural space and terrain is what amazed them. To add to that, it was a bright morning that promised an open sky and they were all grateful for it. It had rained on Wednesday and stubborn, gray clouds lingered for half of Thursday, which had made the bride and groom nervous for what the weather may bring on Friday.

The wizards arrived a few minutes after the witches and found the women peering around in wonder, though their attention swiftly latched onto the men when they took notice of their approach. A glowing smile dominated Hermione's features when she saw Harry again that morning and she ran into his arms without sparing a word or glance to any of the other males. He instantly scooped her up and initiated a heartfelt kiss, vaguely registering the bridesmaids' simpers and the groomsmen's chuckles, then set her back on her toes and appraised her.

"How was your night?" he asked in a low voice only she could hear. Hermione nodded while grinning before responding:

"Yours?"

He mimicked her head motion and matched her grin, which only caused hers to swell further.

Gabrielle happily greeted the group of eight minutes after it assembled and then took the party on an easy tour around the space that would be utilized for the day. Gabrielle and her humble crew of seven people had been at the venue since 8:30AM while the young woman herself had been in England since Monday. She had used those four days for vacation and spent time with Fleur, Bill and their children, although Hermione and Harry had been invited to the Weasley home on Wednesday evening for supper so they could have their final appointment with her.

The group of friends saw that three of five canopy tents had already been erected as they were shown around. Hermione's and Harry's individual domes and the one Gabrielle was using as her hub for the wedding's workers were up but the couple's joint tent and the tent for the reception would not be up for a bit longer. Conversely, the area where the wedding ceremony would take place was completely ready. Chairs formed in the shape of a half circle surrounded a slightly raised dais that had a large curtain of flowers as the backdrop, and tears sprung to Hermione's eyes with the knowledge that she would stand on it and marry Harry in hours' time. He saw her reaction while the others chatted encouragingly about the set-up and squeezed her hand he had been holding.

"Soon," he murmured in her ear.

After guiding the wedding party and answering its queries, Gabrielle explained the day's procession as her crew, which included her aunt and cousin, continued working. She directed everyone to practice the simple procession twice and watched to determine if she wanted to make any tweaks. George and Hannah walked down the path first and split to the dais' opposite sides, followed by Neville and Luna, Ron and Ginny, Harry alone, and Hermione last, though her father walking with her was missing from this practice.

"And when it ends, you will walk to your shared tent, wait 15 minutes, and come back to take photos with the bridesmaids and groomsmen," the French witch stated, peering at the couple.

The wedding party had a short window of freedom after 10:30AM. Since everything they would need for the day was already in Hermione's or Harry's personal tents, there was no need for them to leave the gardens again so they milled about the space. There were expectations and deadlines that needed to be kept for the schedule, of course (e.g., lunch was set to be served at noon, everyone was to be ready by 1:30PM, the bride and groom could not see one another after 1:30PM), but they had an hour to squander before things became hurried as the clock ticked closer to 2PM. They explored some more of the gardens, they witnessed the construction of the remaining two tents (and Neville & George even helped), and Hermione kept in contact with her mother and cousin through her cell phone during that time. Ginny was leaving at 1:20PM to retrieve the bride's family and escort them to the magically warded venue, just as her brother was doing the same for Dudley and Patricia Dursley, and the Muggleborn kept Jean and Rachel abreast of her emotions as the minutes quickly disappeared.

It was half past eleven when Gabrielle suggested the wedding party members go to their corresponding "his" and "hers" tents to commence preparing for the ceremony, and it was five minutes until noon when she pleasantly demanded it of any straggler still wandering around.

"Don't forget- you must also eat!" she noted with a wide smile, watching as Bill, whom had volunteered to come early and be an extra pair of hands for the men, entered Harry's tent.

Lunch was delivered minutes later while Hannah was in the middle of putting on her makeup and Gabrielle's cousin Margot, serving as the women's attendant, placed the appropriate dress on each bridesmaid's hanging rack. Hermione peered at the food placed in front of her but made no move to consume it. She found that she was too nervous to eat and worried about keeping it down. Did food matter when she was getting married in two hours?

She resolved to try to eat in 10 minutes or so as Margot walked next to her station and hung her dress on the rack. The French woman waved her wand at the white bag covering the garment and it vanished, exposing Hermione's pristine dress to the room and causing her to emit an unexpected gasp.

"Oooh, 'Ermione… c'est beau!" Margot exclaimed, having never seen the garment before. Her gaze hungrily took in the dress just as Hermione's did. The brunette had not seen her dress in a week since she'd tried it on and, while it had only been seven days, it seemed like she was looking at it in an entirely different light. It had more meaning, more weight- more power- today.

"Yes," she said, feeling moisture gather in her eyes, "It is."

It was an undoubtedly beautiful piece and Hermione knew Margot was admiring its physical appeal, but to her the dress was beautiful for what it symbolized. At the bare bones, it was one representation of her love for Harry and, for that, it was priceless.