"Oh, no no no that doesn't feel right at all", complained Hermione Granger, 19. She was being fitted for her wedding dress and she was rather overly persnickety. The past fifteen minutes had been spent trying to get her waistband to look exactly right, and the seamstresses working on it were quite cross as well as tired and aching from being on their feet for over four hours fixing the dress. Hermione didn't seem to be happy with anything and kept shouting out orders and accusations. Her temper was nowhere near as cool and calm as it usually was and while some blamed this on PMS, others remained believing that she was just a nervous bride wanting everything to be perfect on her wedding day. I don't think Hermione herself knew why she was acting so. Caterers, the woman working on her dress, her wedding planner-they were all fed up with her. Of course, for those of you who have been near a bride before a wedding, you will find that each one is as concerned as Hermione was.
"Don't you people speak English? Did they give me a bunch of Mexican dressmakers? Do I have to repeat myself? This just won't do! How am I supposed to get married if I look like a 'ho in downtown Trenton? Fix it, damnit!"
Actually, the seamstresses were French and they didn't speak English, but they did understand her tone. They didn't need an English to French-Canadian translator to know that Hermione was being a one hundred percent bitch just then.
"Aller saut au loin un pont!" Screeched one of the ladies.
Hermione, they weren't aware, knew quite a bit of French and retorted with, "Ce'st mon robe mariage!" What the woman had actually told her was 'Go jump off a bridge!' in slightly bad grammar. Hermione said 'It is my wedding dress!' in the same manner. Hermione picked that up when she went to France with her family after her second year. After a bit of name-calling, the seamstresses were very quiet and did everything Hermione commanded them to.
Later that day, Hermione, after a grueling two more hours of her fussing, finally left the seamstresses to their sewing to meet up with her fiancee. She was hot, sweaty, and tired, but, the way most intimate couples do, they greeted with a kiss despite her appearance. She had to look up a bit to reach him and he had to bend his neck the slightest bit but they looked very cute; many people told them so. Her 'man', Harry, held her close and lay his forehead against hers. "How was your day, honey?" he asked her.
Hermione smiled before replying. "I spent six hours making sure my dress was absolutely beautiful for you- (and here they kissed quickly in the middle of her sentence, again like many about-to-be-wedded lovers do) and the wedding next week will be marvelous!" [A/N-there will be more danger later, now its all pre-marriage fluff] So anyway, they kissed anon.
The next day, Hermione met with her wedding planner, Jennifer. They quibbled over what color her bridesmaid's dress would be for forty-five minutes before deciding on periwinkle. Jennifer had the message sent to the seamstresses working on that dress right away. The next thing to decide, which Hermione had spent way too much time pondering already, was what kind of flower the flower girl would be spreading down the aisle. Hermione insisted upon lilies, but Jen repeatedly told her to 'have a change of heart' and use roses instead because lilies just aren't in bloom that time of year. They left that dilemma for another day, because Hermione wouldn't budge and maintained that lilies, at whatever the cost, must be used. She gave no explanation as to why.
The following morning, Hermione's great friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore, came to speak with her. He looked older than ever, with hair as silver as ghosts and half-moon spectacles that didn't hide the twinkle in his eyes. Or, in other cases, the disappointment.
"I have a-a request for you, Miss Granger. Well, almost Mrs. Potter." He smiled merrily and Hermione nodded appreciatively.
"Yes?" Hermione hadn't expected a query-far from it, in fact-from this great man. At the very least, a congratulations, but a question?
"Hermione- (And she was very surprised by this, for the headmaster had never addressed her by her first name before) may I ask you for a great gift? May I be the Ring Bearer at your wedding?"
Hermione opened her mouth, aghast. "It-it would be an honor, Headmaster." She tried to hide her astonishment. She was pretty sure he could see right through her, but she didn't mind. To have the greatest wizard of the century as your Ring Bearer-it was an honor, as she had told him.
That night, when Hermione saw Harry, he had a grim expression on his face. "What's wrong, sweetie?" She asked him.
"It's nothing." He said quickly, shaking his head. Just than, their great friend Ron walked up to them.
"Hey Harry, Hermione." He greeted them. "Am Iā¦interrupting anything?" He inquired.
"No. Look, I've got to go." Harry walked away, in a fast pace. He looked down and didn't wave goodbye or show any other warm gesture.
"Well, that's nice." Snorted Ron.
"I know!" Hermione agreed, nodding furiously.
"He didn't even talk to me and I'm supposed to be his best friend!"
"Not that! I didn't get my kiss!" Cried Hermione indignantly. Ron shot her a strange look.
"Every time we talk, I get a kiss. Usually four or five." Hermione added, smiling, which was a step up from the pout she had just worn.
"I wonder what's on his mind." Ron mused. Hermione frowned.
"I hope it blows over by Saturday. Everything has to be flawless on my wedding day." Hermione said, back to her bride-to-be behavior. Ron rolled his eyes.
"It's probably nothing. Look, I'll see you later-ok, Herm?" Ron walked off.
The rest of the week was spent making the final arrangements and getting R.S.V.P.s from guests. There were a few hundred coming. The war between the wedding arrangers (the seamstresses, the caterers, Jen, etc.) and Hermione didn't cease. As Saturday morning crept up on all of them, Hermione became increasingly edgy. She was known to shriek at anyone who crossed paths with her, up to and including Ron. Harry never, ever got shrieked at which many people noticed, and grumbled about.
