Author's Note: Hi, there. Sorry for the delay in uploading this chapter. I was out of town for almost a week, and when I got back, I didn't feel so up to writing this chapter. But a lovely review got me up and about, and here we are. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Six:

"So, you're sure about sticking to what McGonagall said?"

Hermione nodded.

"So it's either Dedalus Diggle or…. or Snape?"

Hermione nodded.

"Have you decided?" Ginny asked, worried by her unresponsive friend. "Hermione, aren't you going to say anything?"

"What am I supposed to say, Ginny? I haven't decided." She said weakly.

"You can't marry Snape, Hermione!" Harry said heatedly.

"And why ever not, Harry James Potter?" Ginny raised her voice. "This isn't back in second year when you could hate on Snape. This isn't some petty childhood rivalry, this is your best friend's future. And if Snape can do a better job at protecting her, I don't see why she shouldn't choose him…."

Hermione zoned out sometime during Ginny's monologue. She honestly had no idea what to say or do. What was the point anyway? She couldn't possibly agree to Victor's offer, that was his life on the line. Somewhere along the way, she'd realised what Harry went through when people lost their lives in order to save him, and she didn't want anyone else to suffer for her anymore. She barely knew the two men she had to choose between. Well, she knew Professor Snape, but not Severus Snape, if there was anything that distinguished them, that is. Maybe it would be best to let the others decide. She'd promised Ron that she'd never give up, but she wasn't giving up as such, was she? She had agreed to marry someone rather than die or give up her magic. Death. Was it such a bad thing after all? Was it better to live with someone you dislike or don't know or was it better to not live at all?

Shaking her head, as if to clear her thoughts, she tuned in on the conversation around her.

"...I know Minerva suggested that Snape would be the better choice, but-"

"She did?" Hermione interjected, surprised that she hadn't realised when Mrs Weasley had joined the discussion.

The lady sighed sadly. "Yes, Hermione, she did. I agree with her, in theory of course Severus would keep you safer than what Dedalus could, but he's not an agreeable man, to put it very lightly."

"Emphasis on the 'very'," Harry huffed. Ginny glared at him, so he hurried on, "But yeah, I s'pose that's the best thing to do. Hermione?"

"Yes. That's fine, I guess. Anyway, I'm a bit tired, I'm off to bed." She trudged up to the room she shared with Ginny.

And just like that, her future was decided. She didn't pause to wonder how it would affect her life, she didn't speculate what she'd eventually have to do. Not a tear was shed, to her own surprise. Maybe she'd spent them all when she'd cried for Ron. Or maybe she didn't even have it in her to feel sorrow anymore. She felt numb. She knew deep within that she needed to talk to someone, let it all out, get it out of her system, but she pushed aside those thoughts.

Minerva McGonagall rose from her recliner to let the owl inside. She quickly read the short note, threw some Floo powder into the fire before stepping into the flames and muttered, "Spinner's End".

"Severus?" She approached the tall figure who was watching the descending rain. He turned his head minutely to acknowledge her presence. "She's made up her mind."

He didn't have to ask. "She's my student, Minerva. I cannot agree to this, it's preposterous."

"Was. She was your student, Severus. She's not a student anymore. Let's not have that entire discussion all over again. You know I'd never let this happen if I could help it. She may not be a child anymore, but I still feel the need to look out for her. I cannot demand that you agree, but I ask you to reconsider. She'd keep out of your way and won't bother you much. This might be your best bet too."

The man bowed his head in acquiescence.

The days tripped by on rosy wings. Hermione barely registered Luna's invitation to her upcoming marriage; a few months ago, she'd have jumped with delight when presented with the opportunity to meet the renowned Newt Scamander at his grandson's wedding, but now she hardly batted an eyelid. She remained oblivious through the dress robes trying and purchasing sessions, consented to wearing even the most unflattering colours and almost bought a lime green wedding dress for herself.

"Hermione, are you kidding me? Lime green, honestly? Put that down this instant!" Ginny snatched the horrendous looking apparel from her friend's hand. "Seriously, what's the matter? Talk to me. Or Harry. Or anyone. Just say something. Mum's worried sick, you know."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I'm just… trying to take it all in, that's all. I'm fine." She lied easily. It had never come to her so effortlessly before. Maybe it's true, then, she wondered. Maybe that's just it. I need to take it in and I'll be fine.

But even Hermione Granger, brilliance personified, couldn't lie to herself. She knew what it was and she knew what to do about it. But she didn't. If I break down, it'd be an insult to the others. To George, to Harry, to the Weasleys. To them all. They lost so much more than I did, A son, a friend, a confidante. So she put on her brave face, though she felt like her soul was in tatters. She wondered how the cracks didn't show through, how people didn't notice right away, but she was glad they didn't.

Luna's wedding was a colourful blur. As was Neville's. And all the other happy, cheery ones, which she didn't even bother to attend till the end. She hoped everybody would just forget about hers, but that was merely wishful thinking. She received an owl from Professor McGonagall, who wanted to know if there was any particular date Hermione had in mind, which she didn't. She somehow found herself in the Ministry of Magic the next day, Ginny dragging her by the arm, to book her "appointment". She snorted in disgust while the old man peered at her through his dirty spectacles after having asked her if next week would "be alright".

"Is there a later date available, perhaps?" Professor McGonagall asked the official, who shook his head and said that the week leading up to 15th June had been booked. Over-booked, more like, judging by the long list of names that had been jotted down below those dates in the register.

"5th June is the latest you can get, ma'am."

5th June. That was barely a week away. Seven days, and she'd be married. Hermione Snape.

"Can I keep my surname?" She blurted out, much to the surprise of the two women who had accompanied her. "Come again?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows raised. "My surname. After… You know. Can I retain my surname?" She looked up at Professor McGonagall hopefully.

"Uh, Miss Granger, I suppose you could if-"

"The groom must agree. If he doesn't, then by law, you shall have to have his name." The old man spoke up, visibly annoyed. "Now if you're done here, ladies, I would request you to clear the counter. There's a queue."

She walked down the aisle and smiled lightly at the man standing at the end. Yes, he did look like a man, now. She could see the slight nervousness in his eyes as his fingers smoothened his dark robes. He nodded at her as she blinked back her tears.

Her best friends were getting married. He'd never be the boy she had been cooped up with for months in a tent, sharing each other's pain. She'd never be Ron's sister, or her dorm mate. He'd be a man, a husband, and someday a father. She'd be his wife, his companion. Ginny Potter. She'd be his best friend, the one he turned to first. It was a bittersweet moment for Hermione. It was something the two of them had looked forward to. To see their happy faces glowing in the morning sun filled her with joy and she almost felt whole again. Almost, but not quite. But she was happy for the first time in weeks and she savoured the moments like a dying man holding onto his last breaths.

And then they were holding hands and saying the vows and it was over before she knew it. She'd be next.

It was all too soon.

She walked down the aisle with a thumping heart. Her dress felt like it was choking her to death. Her eyes widened as she saw a redhead standing at the end. What was happening? Maybe it was George, handling some last minute stuff. Probably a silly prank. Yes, that's what the figure seemed to be doing. She couldn't tell who it was, the sun was falling in her eyes and he had his back to her. She continued walking, not noticing the empty chairs and silent lawn. She stepped up before the man, just as he turned to face her.

"Ron."

Author's Note: I don't know if two ANs are the norm or not, but oh well. I put in the question about keeping the surname because it's something that I think about otherwise too. My mother had to change her first name after she got married and it's always difficult because your school friends remember you by another name and the people you meet after getting married know your new name, so it's a bit odd, I suppose. Of course, name and surname are not the same, but still.

What do you think about the end of this chapter? Leave your thoughts. :)