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I stare into cold space. My stolid body feels like stone; my limbs have forgotten how to move. I am just a witness, and a gargoyle like the many lining the church walls and time is something that is happening to everyone but me. Today is the day when my heart would be given away.

For years I had been dreaming of this. I'd walk into a church like this with a beautiful, white dress on, just as extravagant as the complicated, rose bouquet that I'd carry. At the alter, the man of my dreams would be waiting. His emerald eyes held behind glass like they were being preserved for only me…

How can this be happening? I love this man with all of my heart; he is so happy...

"Hermione!" it is a shocked Mrs. Weasley bustling down the silk carpet, "what on earth are you doing out here? You must get ready!" The woman practically pulls me out of the pew and questioned my state after she eyes me carefully, "What's the matter?" I croak out an undecipherable syllable. Fortunately, she seems unfazed by my voice deserting me. Most likely because she is too busy visually checking every small detail of the church on our way out; nevertheless, she continues to talk. "You know I always get nervous for weddings; it's just that, usually, I'm not involved," We continue toward the back of the old, byzantine church where the bridal party is getting ready in a back room. Everyone is here already; Ginny waves excitedly at me from the corner surrounded by various beauticians.

A pointy, well- put- together hair stylist walks up to me and examines my hair with shock, "'Zis is going to take a vile," she states with a raised eyebrow white clutching her unnaturally blonde locks, her foreign accent making her sound even more snooty, then literally shoves my assigned dress in my face with urgency. It takes her hours to fix my hair, but in the end, it was worth it. I look like a princess out of a story book. My unruly frizz is swept up into big curls that cascade down the low- cut back of my lavish dress… Now all that I need is my Prince Charming…

"Come on girls, it's time!" Mrs. Weasley announces airily to the room as if she doesn't even believe herself. As we walk by, in isle-walking order, she smiles at us. We are now lined
up next to the entrance of the church, and my insides melt.

Ginny catches me as the music starts, "Hermione, you look beautiful…I can't believe this is happening!"

"Yeah, me either." I say in monotone. Realizing that I may be implying that I am unhappy I add, "You look beautiful, too, Ginny, good luck," looking down and smiling at my feet.

"Hey, good luck to you, too!" The doormen open the entrance to the church. My heart stops. Everyone is standing and looking at us… Not that I care though. He is looking, too, and that's all that matters. Nothing else exists except for his beautiful, green eyes, and it is obvious that they are looking straight at me. Harry Potter smiles; suddenly, I forget how to breathe, but air fills my lungs, the corners of my mouth begin to drift upward. I'm nearing the front row now, and my parents are sitting there, next to the Weasleys, looking like they are both about to cry. Ron is standing next to Harry, and he isn't in that much of a better state than my parents. He is wide-eyed and stares at me unblinkingly. I look back up at Harry and absentmindedly fiddle with my engagement ring. Harry is staring at me still as I walk up next to him.

He nods and smiles one last time as I move over for Ginny. She arrives with her long, white dress gliding behind her. Now his grin is a mile wide. The countenance that usually strongly sits on his face is blurred and hopelessly love struck. He takes her hands. I feel as though he continued through Ginny's body and stuck his hands into my chest to rip my heart out. Everything goes fuzzy and numb.

A man's voice starts, "Dearly Beloved…." Dearly Beloved, is she really? "We are gathered here today to join two people in matrimony." Ginny Potter, that doesn't even sound good… I see Ron smiling with heavy eyelids as if this was our wedding. Suddenly, I feel like chucking my ring at his face, so I gaze into the crowd. My mom is looking at me. She is bawling. Mom never cries at weddings…. I pause. Hmm, Hermione Weasley? Oh well,
that's the name I'm stuck with now. As of this ceremony I'm practically Mrs. Weasley. I feel someone looking at me. This time it's Harry. He's looking at me over Ginny's shoulder… At his own wedding? My cheeks redden, and I look away. Ron is staring at me, too, and he mistakes my blushing as a gift from him. He winks in a suggestive manner.

Now, I can't stop myself from crying as the preacher says, "Harry James Potter, do you promise to have and to hold," I sob especially loudly, attracting the gaze of the audience, as the man in the robe continues, "Oh um," he forgets where he was for a moment because of my outburst, and he shift uncomfortably. Everyone stares at me for a couple of seconds, also, until he continues. Oh Merlin, why did I agree to come here? This was a mistake. There's no way out either; I'm stuck here to suffer…. So close…

"I do," Harry says. What about me? I DON'T. NO. FOR GODS' SAKES I LOVE YOU, HARRY. I love you, Harry. I love you. I love you, Harry, Every moment that I live is because of you. You are the light of my life. You are my everything. Please, wake me up from this nightmare. I shut the world out the only way I could, by closing my eyes.

"Mummy," a sweet little voice whispers in my ear, waking me up from my deep sleep.

"Yes, Rose, darling?"

"Hugo isn't going to sleep!" she whines and shakes her curly, red
hair.

"Alright, I'm getting up." It's just another day as Mrs. Hermione Weasley.