a/N: I am sorry this took me months(and months) to update this story. Thanks and apologies to all of you who have stuck around and given this story so much love. I always knew re-writing this mini novel is gonna be tough, never though RL will be such a pain at the same time.
Thanks a billion to one of my besties and an amazing beta Callieskye for editing this. She and Jenn582 are the biggest inspiration behind this renovation attempt. Love to all my readers. I seriously hope you enjoy this. Send some posivibes my way if you have spare, please?

Chapter 12: The Wedding

It could have easily been a day from the past, almost eight years ago- the bright sunlit day when Bill had married Fleur, thought Ron as he made his way to the wedding tent. It was decorated in the purest of white, subtle hints of gold glinting from the curtains that fluttered in the breeze, fresh lilies adorning the handwoven baskets Luna had made herself.

He found Harry sitting hunched in a chair all by himself, flicking his cuffs in a clear show of nerves. As he made his way towards his best mate and soon-to-be brother-in-law, he noticed Harry run his hands over his hair in a desperate attempt to flatten it, without much success. It was such a familiar sight that it brought an easy smile to his face. Blimey, this dork was really marrying his sister...

"Hey, alright there mate?" he chuckled, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Harry replied. He was clearly anything but 'fine'.

"Don't worry. Ginny is a scary, crazy witch, but you already know that! Plus, for some barmy reason, she seems to be genuinely fond of you, so you'll be okay!" he laughed, pulling a chair for himself as Harry scoffed. The tent was empty but for the Marquee Maker staff who were still busy with the last minute arrangements. They still had a couple of hours before the vows, and from what he noticed as he left the house, most of the family was already dressed. His Mum, however, was still in her night-robes, apron pinned on her chest, feeding and admonishing Charlie for his late arrival, barking instructions left and right that they'd be all late because 'no one was ready yet.'

"Fancy a Butterbeer?" he asked, summoning a bottle for himself and waving at Neville and George who had just walked in, completely ready.

"A Firewhiskey would be good," muttered Harry, looking slightly peaky.

"Whoa, what do I hear? The Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, scared?" joked George, as both he and Neville grabbed the bottles Ron had summoned for them.

As Ron laughed with the men, he heard Harry mutter 'wankers' under his breath.

"By the way Ron, Mum's looking for you. You need to collect the ring."

"Oh, right!" he replied, leaving his seat promptly. "Don't run away. Ginny'll go spare if her groom is missing," he added, ruffling Harry's hair on his way out as the others laughed.

"Fuck off, Ron," grinned Harry, furiously trying to set his hair straight and as always, failing miserably.

Making his way outside, Ron checked his watch. The guests would start arriving soon. The bright sun hurt his eyes and he squinted, making his way past the staff who were now busy prepping the food. It could have been the effect of his not-so-happy prior experience, but he couldn't shake off the anxiety that had crept into his chest. He knew it was most likely because the only other wedding ceremony he'd ever attended had ended badly, to put it mildly. He tried to push down his unease and quickened his steps, as if in a feeble attempt to make the day to pass quicker. Wishful thinking. It was, finally, the very last day that he and Hermione would be around each other, there was no way this was going to go off smoothly. As Harry and Ginny began their new journey together, he and Hermione would, from this point onwards, move apart, each going their separate ways. Perhaps it would be easier for her, she had a life after all- she had her work and possibly new friends. He on the other hand, had nothing. He wasn't even sure where he wanted to go, what he wanted to do with his life. All he knew was, he couldn't run away, not again. He'd just have to take one day at a time, learn to live alone - for the rest of his life.

"Hey, Ron!"

He looked up at the voice and noticed Bill escorting two familiar people. He wasn't sure how to react, but then, the couple smiled and he responded, quickening his steps to greet them.

"Hello, Doctor Granger, Doctor Granger," he addressed Hermione's parents, very surprised when the couple greeted him warmly.

"And how are you, young man?" beamed Hermione's father, Tom, clasping his outstretched hand with both of his.

"I'm good, Sir," he replied, forcing a polite smile. Didn't they know how much he had hurt their daughter? Didn't they hate him for it?

"It's been a difficult six years for the family in your absence," the elderly man added, and all Ron could do was manage a small nod, "but Arthur tells me, he's extremely proud of you."

"Thanks," he muttered, feeling his ever present guilt rush to the surface. His life seemed to be wrapped in lies and deceit, and he longed for an escape.

"Have you seen Hermione?" asked Mrs. Granger, and to Ron's immense relief, Bill suggested Ron go in and look for her. Taking his leave, Ron hastened his steps to escape facing Hermione in front of her parents- at least for a while. He wasn't sure what she had told them and reckoned that a direct confrontation would be best avoided.

A small vial of Calming Drought was still inside the pocket of his old jeans that he had discarded the night before. Figuring Harry could do with a sip before the service, he passed on the task of locating Hermione to Audrey, and disappeared up to his room.

…..

Once he was inside his old room though, he had to force himself to go back. The brand new dress robes felt scratchy and uncomfortable. In fact the whole concept of happy socializing was something he had long lost touch with. He pulled out his worn pair of denims from under a pile of discarded clothes, and retrieved the glass vial. Calming Draught did nothing for him anymore but for some unknown reason he carried one around. He pocketed it and before the overwhelming desire to escape overtook him, grabbed the door open and hurried downstairs.

His footsteps were muffled by the thick, new carpet. Perhaps that was the reason why she didn't notice his arrival. For the second time, he stalled misstep as he watched her. He briefly wondered if his mother had cast some sort of spell on the well-worn staircase? How come that's always where they seemed to find each other?

Hermione was bent over- one foot placed a couple of steps above the other, the long satin gown bunched at her right knee, busy tying the laces of a pale gold footwear. Time stilled as he took her in, the way her long curls hung over her left shoulder, the expanse of skin on her right shoulder that almost blended with the pale gold of her dress. The morning sun filtered through the window at the landing and lit her features,Ron couldn't breathe, let alone blink. She seemed to struggle with the laces and her dress, brows furrowed in annoyance in a way he remembered a little too well. He noticed the touch of blush on her cheeks, the hint of colour on her lips and his heart yearned for all that he had lost. He could stand there for as long as it took for her to tie up her shoe, soak in the rare beam of sunshine in his otherwise dark life, but when she sighed tiredly, he took a couple of steps back.

She wouldn't want him to watch her, would she?

His feet felt heavy as he retraced his steps noiselessly thanks to stealth mastered and perfected in his years of service, and exhaled tiredly to himself before he trudged down again, this time making sure she heard his footsteps. Sure enough, this time when he reached the landing she was gone.

He walked down, slowly this time, dreading the moment when he'd have to face Hermione in front of their friends and family. What if he could no longer mask his feelings? What if he failed to keep up the pretence? He needed this day to be over, but at the same time yearned for these moments to last forever.

Hoping with all his might that he wouldn't come face to face with her again- at least not so soon and certainly not alone, he knocked on the door to his parents' bedroom.

"Come in!" called his mother, and he opened the door and entered, catching sight of the familiar head of curls and swore softly to himself.

"What took you so long?" asked his mum as she handed a small velvet box to Hermione, and went back to the dresser to grab another. "Here, this one's Ginny's," she added with a smile as she looked up at him and then at Hermione. "My kids are all grown up," she said with a chuckle as she wiped away a tear and patted him lovingly on the arm. "Have you seen how pretty Hermione is looking today?" she asked as she beamed at the younger witch.

Ron glanced at her before he could stop, eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before she looked away hurriedly to check the ring.

"Beautiful…"

He only realised he had said it aloud when her eyes snapped back to his. Ron decided that he was immensely lucky to receive another priceless and stolen moment from life- one in which her eyes held some emotion, it was hard to decipher what it was, but at least it wasn't indifference or hate.

"Someday you both will make a beautiful couple."

And the spell broke-shattering into a thousand pieces. Hermione looked away and Ron struggled to remain standing. He had no clue if his mother noticed his despair or if more words were shared. He was brought back to the present as the door clicked shut, and he looked around to notice the ladies had left.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he told the empty room.

….

Everything was so familiar and yet so different. Hermione looked around at the guests gathered in the wedding tent. Their friends and family, colleagues and teachers, all seated and beaming at the couple before the altar. She smiled at Luna who stood next to her and turned her attention towards the bride and groom. Ginny looked gorgeous and Harry, well… She chuckled a little to herself, remembering his sixth-year self. He was besotted. She couldn't remember if she had ever seen him smile so much. And there was one more person… standing at six feet three, clad in his jet black dress robes, Ron looked more handsome than any other person at the wedding. She averted her eyes to look at Ginny before he tempted her any more. The way he breathed 'beautiful' was still fresh in her memory. She hated to admit it but it was yet another crack in her armour.

The minister was now reading the vows and she glanced at her mother who seemed to be smiling through her tears. Molly, sitting next to her husband was also sniffling into a piece of lace. She wondered how the two ladies would be at her wedding- if that ever happened at all…

Suddenly she was overcome with the desire to stop time, relive this day again. In a few hours, she would have to return to her normal life. In a few days perhaps, the family would come to know the truth… and someday they would also find out about Draco. Her breathing staggered at the thought; this could be her last moments of true happiness with her family.

Luna nudged her elbow and she looked up to notice that they needed the rings. Teary, she walked up and handed Ginny the gold band while Ron did the same.

She did not meet his eyes till Harry and Ginny were pronounced man and wife. Amidst the loud cheering and clapping, the new couple kissed each other and her eyes automatically sought and found him. For a few brief moments, they were the old Ron and Hermione again- the same people who could communicate without words. They beamed at each other, ecstatic at their best friend's happiness. And she couldn't hold back anymore, the tears cascaded down and the mask fell. She knew Ron understood- for she could see her emotions reflect in his eyes.

This could have been them.

This would never be them.

…..

Ron had not expected to see beyond her guarded exterior, and no matter what he had assumed, he realised he wasn't prepared to see the hurt in her eyes. It had taken all his willpower and then some to stop himself from going to her and pulling her into his arms while he repeatedly begged forgiveness for hurting her so much. But he managed to suppress the impulse.

And yet, despite everything, she was in his arms- technically, and perhaps for the very last time too. He did try very hard to avoid when his mother insisted that he invite Hermione for the customary dance- but then, to his immense surprise, she met his eyes and nodded her approval.

"Since we started this, we might as well see it till the end," she told him as they walked to the dance floor amidst loud cheers. He was too overwhelmed to respond. As she placed her hand on his shoulder, looking away resolutely, he had managed to place a trembling arm at her waist while taking her free hand in his. In all honesty, they were barely touching each other, his fingertips barely grazing her waist, her hold on his shoulders just as light. She was doing it for the sake of the family, she still hated him just as much... He pushed away the painful thought and concentrated on the present, soaking in her presence, burning every second into his memory.

As they swayed slowly, awkwardly to the music, he breathed in her fragrance, watched the errant curls that framed her face, fluttering in the breeze. Her eyes were downcast and he allowed himself to take his fill, breathing slowly, attempting to stretch these moments as much as he could. He knew the pain would return, and with greater fury this time- but at this point in his life, after a great many years, he truly felt incredibly blessed to be alive, even if it was only to last for a few moments.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly after a while and she raised her head to meet his eyes, "for what Mum said, back there," he added hurriedly. For everything, he added in his mind, hoping she would understand the unsaid. But she looked away.

"She doesn't know yet…" she replied, still looking anywhere but at him.

"Also, this-this dance…"

She shrugged a little. "I've managed to keep up the act for five days. How does one formal dance matter? Moreover … this is the last one anyway."

He swallowed his pain, reminding himself that she wasn't wrong and he deserved it anyway.

"I'll tell them everything… soon," Ron promised, hoping she would look at him just once. His mask was slipping but having Hermione so close was making it incredibly hard to keep the wall around his heart intact. He was barely holding back from sinking to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and confessing, begging if it came to that, sobbing. Perhaps it was good she was avoiding looking at him.

"Thank you," he said as the music began to fade, signalling the end of the song, "for...y'know...everything you did for my family."

She met his eyes then, raw emotions tearing him apart. "This was my family too, Ron!" she exclaimed quietly as she held his gaze.

Finally, the music faded and Hermione let go of him. His arms felt strangely heavy and empty as they fell to his sides. She stood there for a brief minute, looking right at him- allowing him to see the hurt he had caused before she turned around and left. At that moment, Ron hated himself more than he had ever before.

…..

"Paul tells me you sent an application to resume your duties."

Ron drank deeply from his goblet while he watched Hermione laughing as she twirled in Charlie's arms before he replied.

"Yeah. Tell me you are approving it." he told the Minister.

"Do you have the faintest idea how many leaves you have accumulated so far?" asked Kingsley after he drank from his own goblet.

Ron looked around them. Tiny fairy lights illuminated the canvas. Most of the guests had left, only the closest of the friends remained, clustered in small groups, chatting and drinking. Harry and Ginny had left barely an hour ago. The band had resumed playing post dinner, and some of his brothers and friends had once again taken to the dance floor. His parents were sitting with Hermione's. He could see them chat and laugh but for reasons unknown to him, his anxiety peaked at the sight.

"I know I have more than I need," he told Kingsley, looking away.

"Seems you've made up your mind," sighed Kingsley. "When do you intend to join?"

"The sooner the better," he replied, filling up his goblet again. Kingsley gave him a long, contemplating look before putting down his goblet with a small thud. He looked away to where Hermione was now chatting with Audrey and Angie.

"I'm sorry, Ron…" he exhaled, looking tired and guilty. "I shouldn't have put you through all that."

"You did the right thing for the Wizarding population, Kingsley. You did what the Minister of Magic had to do," Ron remarked, forcing a tired smile.

"I know I chose the best man for the job," replied the older wizard as he patted Ron on the arm, "But I was a rubbish friend to Molly and Arthur, and to you both as well," he commented, pointing slightly towards Hermione.

Unable to figure out how to respond to that statement, Ron drank some more.

They continued sitting in silence watching more people take their leave. Ron had lost control at some point, for his eyes now followed Hermione unabashed. Now that the evening was coming to a close, he was unable to take his eyes off her. Who knew when he would ever get to see her again?

He turned around to quickly check if her parents had left already, and just then, almost as if on cue, Jean Granger slumped down on the table…

…..

Somewhere far away, Destiny raised her glass and smiled.

a/n You all know how much I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter. Also, my two other stories will be updated as soon as I can manage to catch a breather. I haven't abandoned any of them, I promise!