Much thanks to my editor, Gwen McCormick, and to my dear friend DUJ. All mistakes are mine. Obviously, I am not JKR and am making nothing from this.

For those of you who are concerned - It's awfully hard for someone who is usually always right to admit when he or she is wrong, especially when he/she is stubborn!

The Course of True Love

Chapter 20

April 1999

"Hi, Ron," Hermione said, breathing hard, "sorry I'm late, but I had a student problem to deal with."

Ron held out the chair for her to sit down, and then he settled into the opposite seat. "You're always running late these days. It isn't like you at all, you know."

"I am sorry, Ron," she said, draping her cloak on the back of her chair. "This apprenticeship is just a lot of work, and-"

"Well, then quit," he told her. "You shouldn't have to work so hard. Not when you have someone who can take care of you."

She stared at him in amazement. "I love my work, and I intend to see it through, Ron," she said.

He held out his hands in surrender. "I just meant that I worry about you. I know you want to finish school. And, hey, if it's important to you, then, well, I guess it's important to me, too."

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm just really busy, but I love every minute of working at Hogwarts. In fact-"

"Well, all that matters is that you're happy," Ron said. He leaned forward and planted a big kiss on her forehead. "Happy Easter, Hermione! I know it's a day early, but you said you couldn't come tomorrow, so I thought I'd give you this now. I wish you'd change your mind."

"Thank you, Ron." She smiled. "I brought you some chocolate eggs, too," she told him, holding out his gift, "the Muggle, cream-filled kind that you like."

"Can't you skive off and come to the Burrow for dinner tomorrow?" he asked.

"No, I can't," she apologized. "The Heads of House are planning an Easter celebration for those students who are staying during the holiday, and I promised Severus that I would help."

"You know," Ron muttered, "I get pretty sick of hearing you harping on and on about Severus."

"Ronald Weasley, you're jealous!" she exclaimed.

"Am not," he shot back. Then a small grin broke over his face, and he admitted it. "Yeah, well, maybe a little," he said, "but it puts a fellow off when his girl keeps talking about another bloke, you know? Especially when she keeps calling him by name."

Hermione frowned. Do I really talk about Severus that much? She wondered. "Professor Snape, then," she replied crisply, "if that makes you feel better."

"Yeah, a bit." Ron gave in with a sigh. He set a small egg-shaped box in front of her, picked up the Cadbury egg she'd given him. He peeled off the foil wrapper and bit into the sweet, rich chocolate. "Ummm," he murmured. "Thank you, 'mione." He swallowed. "Um, hey, but yours isn't a chocolate egg. Go on, open it." He licked his chocolate covered fingers.

Her eyes glowing with excitement, Hermione quickly opened the Easter egg box to reveal a ring. Upon a wide gold band, but much thinner than the first one, sat a five-carat solitaire ruby.

"It's lovely." She stretched out her hand, and Ron slipped the ring onto her finger.

"I thought so," he replied proudly. "Hey, I spoke with Kinglsey, and he agreed to be one of my groomsmen." He squeezed her hand gently. "I wish you'd go in for a big wedding-"

"No, Ron," she insisted. "I've already told you that-"

"All right, I know. No pressure here," he interrupted. "We agreed on three attendants, so, I'll just have Kingsley, Dad, and Harry for me. Have you chosen your three bridesmaids?"

"Well, I know I can count on Ginny," she replied slowly, "and I'll ask Minerva, but I really don't have that many female friends."

"Oh, I'm sure you can find someone at the school who'd love to be in the wedding of genuine war heroes," he remarked. "Maybe one of the other teachers or someone." He snapped his fingers. "If it comes down to it, you can get Neville! He'd do it!"

She frowned, thinking. "I don't know," she answered slowly. "I'm not really that close to Neville, but – Well, do you think it would be all right to have a male bridal attendant? It's not traditional."

"Hmm, I suppose not. I don't really know about all that," Ron replied. "Maybe you could ask someone, or just strike that idea. Keep looking around. I'm sure you'll find someone. Madame Pomfrey or Professor Sprout or someone."

Hermione smiled. "I'll think it over."

Ron smiled indulgently. "Look, 'mione, why don't you come on to dinner?" he urged. "Mum will be right disappointed, and so will I. We'll have some time to make more plans for the wedding then, and we're getting up a big quidditch game afterwards and-"

She shook her head firmly. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I promised."

"Well, I can see why the Heads of House need to be there," he conceded with growing frustration, "but, 'mione, you're not one. You're not a parent either, so you shouldn't even be worried about it."

"Ron, there are some parents that can't afford to get their children things, and-"

"Yeah, I know about that one, Hermione," he retorted. "You don't have to tell me about that. We might not have had a lot of things, but we had love, and that's more important than anything!"

"Ron," she sighed his name, "I didn't mean anything derogatory by that. Love is more important than mere material things." She took his hands and squeezed them. "The staff and faculty are just making sure that no child will feel left out because of their parents' finances."

"Oh," he said softly. "I see what you mean."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do," he explained gently. "Maybe you can see now why I've been pushing you. I want you, us, to have the best of everything. My wife won't ever be in need of anything, Hermione. I know what it's like, see, and you and our kids will never have to make do, or wear hand-me-downs, or do without! If I have to break my back working two or three jobs, I swear to you that I will always take care of you."

He reached for her hands and, bending forward, kissed them. "And I'm glad, too," he whispered with a soft smile, "that you're feeling more motherly towards your students 'cause you know I'd like us to have lots."

Hermione bristled and pulled her hands away. "We've discussed children, Ron. I'll have two, maybe three. Just because I want to help those children whose parents can't afford things doesn't mean that -" She stopped and sighed. "Anyway, I'm going to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday and help out."

Ron sighed and stared down at the table for a moment. "All right, all right," he muttered, "I don't mean to push you, Hermione. But you can't blame a guy for trying, can you?" He looked up and gave her a lop-sided grin. "Hey, and maybe I can help with those kids at school, too," he offered.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione exclaimed, "that would be wonderful! Minerva's brother, Robert, is setting up a legal trust fund for things like this." She rushed on, excitement in her voice. "Did you know that this year the Hogwarts staff has chipped in to pay for Easter gifts out of their own pockets?"

"You're kidding me!" Ron blurted out. "They're doing this for all the kids who don't get a gift?"

She nodded her head. "But for years, Severus paid for everything all by himself. He made sure that every child received something. Easter baskets, Christmas gifts, birthdays, everything!" She smiled, her face lit with excitement.

"The Greasy Git was Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny?" Ron started laughing. "Can't you just imagine him in a great big pink bunny suit? With long pink ears?"

Hermione glared at them. "Well, he did!" she hissed vehemently. "I caught him myself playing Father Christmas this year! And he did it all anonymously. Even the other staff members thought the money came from the Headmaster."

"Well, isn't he just the sweetest thing," Ron muttered sourly.

Hermione shot him an angry glance. "Well, he is!"

"Okay, fine!" he agreed, throwing his hands in the air. "He's a gallant, charming bloke with great taste in jewelry, and he's a bloody ray of sunshine. You've convinced me at long last. Are you happy now?"

"Ronald-"

"You know maybe if I were more perfect like him, then maybe we'd be married right now. I mean, he must be doing something right! He's snagged the most eligible widow in the wizarding world!"

"What?" Her voice sounded small. "What did you say?" Severus is engaged?

"Yep, he's caught the richest war widow in the wizarding world," Ron told her. "The Greasy Git of the dungeons has gotten himself engaged."

Hermione blinked stupidly. He's engaged? He can't be! Not when - Jealousy was born on that unfinished thought and raised its head. The thought hit her hard, frightened her. She slammed her mind down on it, shoving it ruthlessly back. "I don't understand," she murmured.

"Well," he said, warming to his story, "the other night, Harry was on guard duty at Azkaban, and old Snape and Narcissa Malfoy, yeah her, showed up again-"

"Severus takes Mrs. Malfoy to visit Draco the first of each month," she said mechanically. "She can't go by herself because she's under house arrest for another two months."

"Yeah," Ron plowed on, "but this time when they apparate in, her arms were around his neck, and she was crying and kissing him."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," she murmured. "Really, you shouldn't be gossiping about them."

"Oh, it isn't gossip, Harry saw the whole thing!" Ron scoffed. "Mrs. Malfoy's got this new ring on her finger – her ring finger, you know? – and it's that emerald and diamond ring you were gushing all about." He put his hands on her shoulders, so he could look her in the eye. "And you know what that means. They must be engaged."

"Oh." Hermione blinked several times, fighting back the lump in her throat. "That, that's very interesting news," she replied. Her mind was swimming in confusion.

"Yeah," he told her, "Harry and I are thinking the ferret will have a step-dad by the time he's released."

Hermione's mind was in overdrive. So, Severus is engaged? Well, I don't care! I don't care one bit because I love Ron. I can't be wrong about that! We just need to iron out our differences like any other couple. I've always loved Ron, and I'm never wrong!

"Well," Hermione said primly, "that isn't our problem. That's theirs." She blew out a stream of air. "Well, I hate to rush off, but I've got a lot to do," she muttered. Promising herself to try harder, she gave Ron a lingering kiss before she left.

SHSHSHSHSHSHS

"My stars!" Minerva McGonagall was frustrated. "Hermione, what has gotten into you, girl? This is a simple transfiguration project. You should have mastered it by now."

Hermione kicked the winged back chair and flopped into it. "I don't know, Minerva," she lied.

"Yes, you do," Minerva snapped, "and so do I. You're stressed about the wedding."

The wedding? Which one? Severus' or hers? Did Minerva know? Did she know that her heart was divided? Hermione gave a sudden start and blushed. "Not exactly," she muttered.

Minerva hummed under her breath, and she sat down opposite the girl. Pointing to her new engagement ring, she asked, "Is Mr. Weasley pressuring you again?"

"No, no, not that! He isn't, not really," Hermione replied. She shifted around in the chair, throwing her legs over the arm. "It's something else, but, well, I – oh, never mind." She tapped her wand on her leg and turned towards the older witch. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, you can," Minerva replied immediately. "You can tell me anything."

Hermione inhaled. "Ron and I are having to do a lot of compromising, and-" She stopped in mid-sentence, looking over at Minerva.

"Most couples have to compromise," Minerva replied carefully.

"I wanted a simple wedding, but Ron wanted a formal one with a dozen attendants each." She shrugged. "But we compromised on three. He's asking Harry, his dad, and Kingsley, and now I need to choose three attendants. I know I can count on Ginny and you, of course-"

The older woman smiled. "I'd be honored."

"But, well, I was wondering – I never wanted a formal affair, so I don't know – but do you think it's okay for the bride to choose a male attendant?"

"A male attendant? For a bridesmaid?" Minerva frowned and shook her head. "Well, it certainly wouldn't have been done in my day."

"But my best friend is a man."

Minerva eyed her steadily. "I've always heard that if a young woman's best friend is a man, then she should marry him."

Hermione felt her heart start to pound as the blood rush to her face, and she quickly righted herself in the chair. "Oh, no, it's nothing like that!"

Minerva made a Scottish noise of disbelief. "I'm not really up on the current etiquette regarding such things." She raised an eyebrow. "If you're concerned, you should consult Narcissa Malfoy. If anyone knows the correct social protocols, it would be she. Severus could take you to see her."

The blood seemed to drain from the young woman's face, but it quickly returned until she was beet red. Minerva suddenly leaned forward and took the girl's hands. "Are you sure that you and Mr. Weasley-"

"If Mr. Weasley is still bothering you to give up your studies to become a full-time wife, I'd be more than happy to speak to him," a deep voice called from the doorway. Severus Snape walked stiffly into the room. "He should be made aware of just how rare an intellect like yours is." He handed Minerva a scroll. "The plans for the Victory Party."

"He isn't, not at all," Hermione told him. She glared at him, then sharply added, "I've just been wondering why my supposed best friend has neglected to trust me with certain information about his engagement."

Hermione stood up. "I can go see Mrs. Malfoy myself." Turning to Minerva, she added, "If you don't mind, I'll go work on this project independently for a while."

Severus watched her retreating form in confusion. "Did I say something wrong?" Severus asked, a frown cutting deep lines in his forehead.

Minerva gave him a cool, speculative look. "Perhaps," she replied slowly, "or perhaps you merely haven't said the right thing."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" demanded Snape.

"Nothing," Minerva said. But that was not what she was thinking.