Hello, again. Yet another episode of the breakup is here, and it's a tear-jerker, to be forewarned. Sorry for everyone who's had to wait for what they felt was a long time; I've had finals to study for and many long rehearsals for band and choir. *sigh*
I had to figure out some way to get Ron and Hermione forced into a situation where they were required to be with each other for a whole day, and it was necessary they be happy about it. So, we're having a wedding! Seamus and Lavender are getting married, and as the best man and maid of honor, they are dance partners. What will happen?
This chapter is for Brooks. Thanks for being there when I needed you the most. Also, because you've inspired me to use the song Cry, by Faith Hill, due to some certain experiences at homecoming and the like. *cough* enough said on that...
Once again, I must say, I do not own Harry Potter. But if Oliver Wood ever goes up for sale on Ebay, let it be known that I will outbid everyone. Then I can say I will own one Harry Potter character.
A Mistake Mended
Chapter Two: Cry
Ron stumbled onto the front porch of the Burrow, fumbling for his wand to unlock the door. Once it opened, he was almost deafened by the silence. Looking into the front hallway through eyes swollen into tiny red slits from crying, he nearly missed the fiery haired blur which whizzed around the corner and attached itself to his knee.
"Unka Won! Unka Won! Whewe's Anty Mya? Whewe's Mya?" Chandler, his three year old nephew shouted from knee-level, glued to Ron's leg.
Ron sniffed, and a fresh wave of tears sprung to his eyes as he remembered how much his family had loved Hermione. Especially Fred and Angelina's youngest - Chandler. He always had followed her around like a little puppy, loving to hear stories about Hogwarts and to learn whatever her 'lesson of the day' was.
"Chandler! What are you doing here all by yourself? Where is everyone?" Ron asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and turning his head to the left, facing the wall so the young child would not see the anguish eating away at his heart. His face was twisted into a strange contortion of misery as he managed to utter in a shaking voice, "Wait, never mind. Go into the kitchen and get Uncle Ron a cup of tea, will you, Chandler?"
The boy must have sensed some urgency in Ron's voice, as he ran back around the corner and through a doorway is a rush of wind. Moments later, Ron heard the sounds of a young boy climbing onto the counter, and knew he was safe for the moment. He turned back to the wall, to gaze at the item which had spurred the tears on seconds earlier.
It was a picture, taken in the summer after graduation. He, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny had gone out for a picnic one day, and brought along Ginny's black and white Muggle camera. Ginny, on an independent study project with a professional photographer over the summer, had insisted she add to her portfolio with a series of photos of her brother and his girlfriend.
The painstakingly long process of carefully directing them into the poses she wanted and then setting up the camera was well worth it in the end. She had won first prize in a photography contest later that year, for 'truly capturing the spirit of young love,' as the head judge, Mr. Fuji Kodak explained in a long conversation he had with her after the prizes were awarded.
Everyone's favorite photo had been this one, though. With a background of pale pink crepe myrtles in full summer bloom, Ron had sat on the ground in front of Hermione. Kneeling on a small flat stone, she had thrown her arms around his shoulders, her head resting on his at a slight tilt. Hundreds of wispy brown ringlets had fallen to the right, and been slightly tossed by the wind as Ron brought his hands up to cover Hermione's.
Staring hard at the black and white photo framed on the wall, Ron couldn't recall ever having remembered something with such clarity before. One single, silent tear escaped the confines of his eye as he recollected everything from that summer afternoon.
The taste of the corned beef sandwiches that Mrs. Weasley had packed for them. The way Hermione looked with the small, fluffy crepe myrtle blossoms got caught within the slightly tangled mass. Her hands clasped within his, giving him strength and courage, and most of all, love. The light vanilla scent of her shampoo he caught whenever the wind blew her hair into his face. The melodies interwoven within each other whenever he heard her laugh.
Everything about Hermione put him on sensual overload. Ron dropped his cloak in a clump in the hall, and trudged into the kitchen, where Chandler was sitting at the table, quietly drinking tea.
Ron sat down and said his thanks, thickly. The lump in his throat prevented him from doing much talking at all, and the throbbing in his heart helped to remind him of how much he had just lost. Chandler hopped off the chair he was sitting in and brought Ron the second cup of tea. As Ron took the cup of steaming liquid from his nephew, Chandler scrambled into his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck in a giant toddler hug.
"Mya's not coming over anymowe, is she, Unka Won?" he whispered into Ron's ear. Ron's lower lip trembled, along with his voice as he answered the little boy.
"No, Chandler, she's not."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Walking down the moonlit streets of Hogsmeade, Hermione squinted at the buildings, trying to read the signs through the blurry silver haze created by her own tears. Why, why, why?? she moaned inwardly. If ever I had imagined Ron's reaction being so harsh, I never would have mentioned it! Why can't he be more rational about this, though?
She stumbled onto the steps of the Three Broomsticks, and collapsed onto the bench swing that hung on the porch. Sagging into the gaudy floral pillows Madam Rosmerta kept there, she curled up into a ball and let all of the emotions building up inside of her heart come free. As she cried, her body shook the entire bench swing, causing it to writhe uncontrollably on its weather-beaten silver chains.
Eventually, when her sobs subsided, Hermione fell into a deep, troubled sleep, dreams full of the moment captured forever in her mind's eye - Ron's eyes full of tears and him slumped over the table, like a man broken.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hermione, wake up!" A distant voice caught her attention. Surfacing from the depths of her oceans of dreams, Hermione awoke just enough to feel someone stroking the hair out of her eyes as they knelt next to the swing, making it rock slightly. "Come on, love, hiding out in Rosie's bar isn't going to make your life any easier, no matter what your troubles are. Open your eyes, there's a dear." A soft, almost unrecognizable accent spoke to her, coaxing Hermione out of her disturbed slumber.
She opened her eyes and started; the sun was peeking over the horizon and shone directly into her eyes, the golden morning glow magnified into millions of sparkling diamonds from the dew droplets still hanging on the lush blades of grass in the lawn. Her hand flew up to shade her eyes, so she could discern who had awoken her so gently. A small, yet muscular young man with mouse-brown hair and chocolate eyes framed with short, dark lashes peered up at her from his perch on the floor. "Looks like you had a rough night, huh, Mya?" Neville Longbottom said.
"Neville! What are you doing here?" Hermione exclaimed, rubbing the sleep and the sun from her eyes, and trying to shift her dress so the wrinkles weren't quite so noticeable.
"I was coming to get a Butterbeer after my late night shift up at St. Athena's Children's Hospital, and I just found you. Are you okay?" he replied, expression one of concern for his fellow classmate and exhaustion from treating the young patients in the world's first Muggle/Wizarding co-facility. He worked with the cancer patients, one of the few diseases that afflicted both magic and non-magic kind, and that couldn't be affected by the normal healing magic just yet.
She sniffed and shook her head, tears forming as scenes from the night before danced around her head. "No, I'm not okay, not at all." she murmured.
Neville clasped her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. "Come inside. I'll buy you a drink and we can talk about it. Maybe I can help with what's troubling you." He smiled, then tugged her through the door.
After they had found a nice quiet table in the back and had received their drinks (Neville had a Snape's Quicker-Picker-Upper, Hermione just plain black coffee), Hermione began to spill her story. Much like throwing a gigantic stone off one's back, she felt much lighter as the words came out, easier minute by minute.
"And then I broke it off. Called it quits. Just in that instant, I knew I had made the biggest mistake in my life - I had seen my heart breaking in him. Like he was a mirror for my emotions, and whatever I was feeling, so did Ron. How could I have been so stupid??" She slammed her fist down on the table.
Neville sighed. There was a reason he hadn't become a counselor. "I really couldn't tell you what to do, Hermione. I remember my great-aunt Edna once shouting from the depths of her urn, "Everything's all right in the end... if it's not all right, then it's not the end!!" So, since everything is quite wrong about this whole predicament, then it's obviously not the end." He sighed at the puzzled look on Hermione's face.
"My family is a little, peculiar with their living arrangements. Edna was actually considered normal when compared to her sisters. One, Canie, was forced to take residence within a shoe (she used an Engorgement Charm on it, of course,) with her hundreds of kids after becoming bankrupt, and the other, Marisa, voluntarily was Severus Snape's roommate in Potions College." He paused, as Hermione's eyebrow raised slightly. "Don't ask."
"Anyways, my advice would be to just follow what your heart tells you - just do what it wants to, and maybe when Ron sees that you still care for him, he'll accept your apology."
"What I want to do right now is snog him senseless." Hermione stated, matter-of-factly.
Neville waved his hands in front of him. "That might not be the best idea just yet. How about some sort of letter? You could owl him. Or, better yet, talk to him at Seamus and Lavender's wedding tomorrow. I heard that you two have been promoted to Best Man and Maid of Honor, since Parvati had her baby yesterday. A healthy girl, they said to tell everyone, April Marie Thomas. They're staying at home with the baby, obviously, since you can't take a newborn to a wedding."
A huge grin broke the mask of sadness Hermione had been wearing. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy for them!" She took a sip of her coffee, the spit it out all over the saucer as she realized something. "Neville, if... if I'm the Maid of Honor, and Ron's Best Man, then that means... we'll have spend the entire day together! What if he refuses to talk to me, or makes a scene in front of everyone?"
Neville stood up and smiled. "He's too good of a man to ruin someone's wedding with his own emotions; he'll be putting on a show for everyone and pretending nothing's wrong. You'll have to be an actress for a day, and do the same thing." He kissed the top of her head as he pushed in his chair and placed a few coins on the table. "Just think about what I said, okay? And don't dwell on it too much - your hair will only get frizzier from the stress." He winked, and walked away as Hermione brought her hand instinctively up to smooth down her hair.
"Neville, wait!" she called a few moments later. He returned to the table, trying his best not to yawn. Taking care of very sick children in all hours of the night drains your energy, whether or not you are magical or Muggle.
"Yes, Mya?"
Hermione tapped her fingers together nervously, staring at the table. "Well, what if, even through all my sadness, I uh, still think it was the right thing to do? I mean, it really wasn't going anywhere - the relationship wasn't growing, or drifting apart... we were just, oh, I don't know, stagnant." She folded her arms on the table and buried her face in them. "I'm so confused."
Neville lifted her face up so he could look her in the eyes. "Hermione Granger, this is something that I can't help you with - you need to decide what you feel. If you truly think that you will be happier and better off without being tied to Ron, then act like nothing's wrong, and eventually, he'll see the light. If you feel that you are going to be happier without him, then have faith in your actions."
Hermione nodded, a little of her old resignation showing through her weariness. She watched Neville leave, then followed his footsteps to her way home.
Mumbling softly to herself with thoughts turned into something slightly more substantial than jello, Hermione weaved her way through the tables and reached the fireplace, where a roaring blue fire was licking the inside of the flue. "Mya's Flat!" she called, and was spun off home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Molly and Arthur Weasley came home with the rest of their family, they weren't shocked to see two figures huddled together on the couch. They were, however, surprised to find who the identities of these two figures were, as the entire Weasley clan was herded into the living room. To much disappointment, it was only Chandler being held by Ron, instead of Hermione. As the pair slept on, questioning looks being shot every which way throughout the family, Ginny came careening into the room from a side hallway.
"Mum! Mum! Come quickly, Harry's very sick! I think we should just let Ron sleep and talk to him in the morning, for we must get Harry immediate medical attention! Make Charlie and the others go home - they shouldn't be getting sick with Lavender's wedding tomorrow! Hurry!!" she said in a frantic whisper, all the while shooing her brothers out the door and taking her mother by the arm. As she dragged her mother up the stairs, Ginny explained what was wrong.
"After Ron and Mya left her flat in London, Harry and I stayed there and ended up eating Chinese takeout while watching Minerva's debut as the grandmother on that new soap opera, The Young and the Magical. Something must have been wrong with his dinner, though, because he feels terrible! I put him up in Ron's room, and I just hope he's okay... he said his stomach hurt really badly and that he was getting a migraine... he's been going through fever and chills as well... what's wrong?"
They had reached Ron's room, and a low moaning sound could be heard emanating from the small space. Gently, Mrs. Weasley opened the door to see harry thrashing around on the bed, holding his scar and groaning in agony. "Oh, it hurts, it hurts!" he wailed theatrically. Smirking, Ginny leaned against the doorframe as her mother fretted over Harry like a mother hen. "Stay still, Harry, and look at me." she said.
Complying, Harry stilled his outrageous motions and turned to face his surrogate mother. Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You're a good patient, unlike my sons. Now, what hurts, dear?" She smiled reassuringly.
Harry's eyes flicked over to the door, a look of panic gleaming in his eye. Ginny frantically pointed first at her head, then her stomach, and finally wiped her hand across her forehead while shivering. She winked, and Harry started to explain his symptoms.
"My, uh, stomach hurts. And so does my head. And I'm tired and I'm having spasms, but all I really want to do is go to sleep, but talk to Ron first. Can you send him up here, Mrs. Weasley?" He made a very pathetic rendition of the puppy-dog eyes that he used to see Dudley make at Aunt Petunia. Over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, he could see his girlfriend, who had smacked her hand across her eyes at his antics.
Mrs. Weasley tutted at Harry and shook her head. "You are one sick young man, but since you asked nicely, I'll let you see Ron for a while. Let me go wake him. Ginny!" Her daughter snapped to attention. "Use this cloth to keep the fever down, and you know how to do basic healing charms. I'm sure he'd be much more comfortable if you helped him. But be quick, we don't want him to have a seizure and break a rib." The old woman bustled out of the room, frizzy gray hairs sticking out of the bright red bun pulled up at the nape of her neck.
As soon as they were confident that Mrs. Weasley had left, Harry sat up and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Spasms, Ginny? What did you tell your mother I had?" Harry questioned, an edge in his voice.
Exasperated, Ginny hissed, "It was supposed to mean fever and chills, you dummy! I do not look like an epileptic when I'm shivering!"
He shrugged. "At least you're a cute epileptic."
She made a face at him and then went over to sit next to him on the bed. "I don't know how we're going to tell Ron this - I know he wouldn't ruin the wedding, but how will he take it if he knows Mya still thinks she did the right thing, even though it's obvious they're both miserable without each other?"
"He'll need all the time he can have to get ready to be 'Ron the actor,' especially because the reception party is at the Matza-Ricci Castle, across the lake from The Plaza down in Hogsmeade. If being near the place she broke up with him won't set him off, I don't know what will."
Harry sighed and then laid back down, sinking into the comforting depths of Ron's pillow. "I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid or rash like normal," Harry said, his eyes closed. "I know this is mean, but I'm kind of hoping he'll be too stunned from being hurt to do much of anything tomorrow."
Ginny stroked his forehead, running her fingers over Harry's lightning bolt scar, faded as the years passed by. "Don't worry. I'm sure Ron will take it just fine," she said soothingly.
"Take what just fine?" a deep voice growled from the doorway. "This had better be good, Harry. I'm in no mood to talk about anything but maybe burning the Hogwarts library to the ground. Then maybe Hermione'll be sad about something." He stalked over to the trundle bed which had been pulled over to the wall next to the window, and threw himself, facedown, onto it.
Harry and Ginny looked at each other, then Harry nodded as if to say He's your brother, you tell him! Sighing, the young woman trudged over to sit next to her brother's crumpled body. "Well, Ron," she began, "you know how Seamus and Lavender's wedding is tomorrow?"
"Not going" came the muffled reply from the pillow.
"But... but, Ron," Ginny sputtered, looking to Harry for help. "You have to go!"
"To hell I do," Ron snarled, sitting up so quickly he knocked Ginny off the bed and onto the floor. "I don't have to do anything, Virginia. Much less go to a gathering full of joy and happiness to spend time with that snotty little brat who's not interested in anyone but herself. Bitch." he seethed, crossing his arms firmly across his chest and frowning in a very unbecoming way.
Quickly, Ginny cast a Silencing Charm on the room from her position on the floor, and then spoke up once more. "Ron, what will Lavender and Seamus say when their best man doesn't show for the wedding?"
He shrugged. "Not my problem, that's Dean's job. I expect they'll hang him upside down by his pinky toes in a broom closet full of feathers for a week or so - standard Finnigan torture, I understand. I don't care. I'm not going."
"Uh, Ron, you haven't heard about Parvati yet, then, have you?" Harry questioned, sitting up in the bed across from him. Raising an eyebrow, Ron shook his head. "Well, she had her baby yesterday, so both she and Dean won't be going to the wedding."
'Congratulations to them, send the lucky couple a fruit basket. What the hell does that have to do with me going to the wedding?" Ron said caustically.
"Well, you see..." Ginny began, and bit her lip. She couldn't quite figure out how to say it.
"See WHAT, woman? Bloody hell, this is impossible! First you two are telling me that I have to go to a wedding in which I will be absolutely miserable, and in doing so, ruin the entire mood of the happy occasion, then you start raving about how Parvati's a mother!! Nothing you have said yet applies to me!!!" Ron burst out irrationally, rendering his two companions paralyzed for a split second.
He stood, then strode over to the door. "I'm leaving. I'm not going to that wedding, and there is nothing you can say to me that will make me change my mind." He had the door opened and was halfway into the hall when Harry called out, "You're the best man, Ron! You have to go!"
Ron turned back around and snapped, "No, Dean is. We already went over this, remember? Why can't the two of you just leave me the hell alone and let me sulk in peace? I'm not exactly sociable at the moment, and would very much appreciate it if you just LEAVE ME BE!!" He stalked out, slamming the door as he went. Ginny sighed.
"I'll be right back, we need to knock some sense into him." She scurried up off the floor and out the door, whispering spells as she raced down the twisted hallway. Moments later, she returned red-faced and with her hair blown every which way. "He put up more of a fight than usual," she explained as she held out a large jar to Harry.
Inside was a tarantula.
Harry reeled back. "What are you going to DO with that thing? Is this some sort of torture device you use on Ron? Because I think he might faint if he saw it. Keep it away from him."
Ginny smiled, a cunning gleam in her eye. "I can't keep it away from Ron. It's physically impossible." She walked over to the armoire on one side of the room and placed the large arachnid into Scabbers' old cage. Harry followed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pinning her to the chest.
"And why, exactly, is that?" he asked.
"Because that IS Ron."
Harry staggered back, a shocked expression on his face. Ginny turned and giggled at his countenance, a mix of horror and awe showing through the dropped jaw. "You-you transfigured your brother into a tarantula?"
Ginny nodded. "Yep."
"But... why? Are you going to take him to the wedding in your pocket and tell people, 'Sorry Ron couldn't come to the wedding, he's a bit tied up right now...'"
Ginny snorted. "That was a horrible joke, Harry. And no, I'll change him back within the hour. I just figured I could talk some sense into him if he was confined in a small space. He knows how to throw off the Full Body-Bind now, so I had to search for an alternative means of restriction. Besides, maybe this will help him get over his fear of spiders."
Harry shook his head in amazement as Ginny turned back around, performing a few more spells on Spider Ron. After a moment, Ginny motioned for Harry to join her in front of the armoire. "I put a Translator Charm on him, so he can understand what we're asking him, and he'll be able to answer us in English. There's also a Magnification Enhancer on his voice, so we'll be able to hear what he said. I'll leave him like this for about five minutes, I guess, or however long it takes him to agree to go to the wedding."
They leaned their ears closer to the cage, and were met with a wall of sound. Ron was shouting so he could be heard, and he didn't seem to be too happy.
"Virginia Annelise Weasley! What the hell have you done to me? I'm tiny and in Scabbers' old cage for cripes sake! Turn me back to normal and stop being ridiculous!!"
"No, Ron. Not until you stop being ridiculous. If you had stayed in the room long enough for Harry and I to finish our explanations, you would have heard exactly why you need to go to this wedding." Ginny's voice had a slight edge to it, and it was tinted with malice and annoyance, a combination which didn't bode well for Ron the Spider.
"But.." Ron stuttered.
"For heaven sakes, Ron, let her finish!" Harry burst out. He put a reassuring hand on Ginny's shoulder, which she reached up and covered with her own. Ginny bent down so her eyes were level with all eight of her brother's.
"Ron, Dean cannot come to the wedding, because Parvati had her baby yesterday. They will both be staying at home taking care of their new daughter. So now YOU are the best man. You have to go. What's more important, Lavender and Seamus's wedding going as smooth as possible (you know, there's a slight hitch in the whole thing if you're missing one of the wedding party), or you being able to sit at home and sulk for an extra day? I promise I'll let you sulk as much as you want Sunday."
A few moments passed in dead silence. "Are you coming or not?" Harry asked, truly curious. Ron started pacing around the cage. Back and forth, up and down the walls he scuttled, subconsciously weaving a web while the human portion of him pondered the wedding situation.
A minute passed. Then five. Apparently, Ron had a creative genius for webmaking. "Has he ever read Charlotte's Web?" Harry whispered into Ginny's ear.
She shook her head. "I don't think so, but looking at this, I'd have to say yes."
While Ron was thinking really hard on his decision, his spider half of him had already decided. Four letters were being created in the web as he crawled with alacrity around the bars of the cage, proclaiming to Harry and Ginny he had conceded.
"O-K-A-Y," Harry read aloud. "Well, that settles it. Do you think he knows yet?"
Ginny shrugged. "Let's just ask him, then, shall we? Ron!" she called into the confines of the cage. The spider stopped his scuttling and dropped to the center of the cage floor.
"What is it?" Ron asked.
"Does your, um... handiwork behind you mean you're going to the wedding?" Ginny snickered.
Ron shrugged. "I am going, but what do you mean handi-whoa! What the heck is that? Ginny, why didn't you tell me there was a spider in the cage with me? Get it out get it out get it out..."
Bursting with laughter, Ginny grabbed a compact mirror out of her purse and held it up to Ron. "Look in the mirror, Ron, and tell me what you see," she said, in between giggles. An occasional chuckle was heard from Harry, behind her, as well.
Ron gazed into the mirror, blinking all eight eyes in order to get a clear picture of the monstrosity he had become. He screamed. He shrieked. He panicked. Ron ran over to the furthest corner and delved headfirst into the pile of wood shavings lining the base of the cage.
"Ron," Ginny sang, trying to coax him out of his corner. "Oh, Ro-on... come out... Stop acting like an ostrich... you can't hide from yourself, you know..." The mound of spider and wood chips shifted slightly as Ron came out, shaking with fear and fury.
"You turned me into a spider?" he yelled as Ginny whipped out her wand. "Finite Trece Incantatem!" she whispered while simultaneously removing Ron from the cage. With a small popping sound, he was sitting on the floor and back to his original state of being, still screaming at the top of his lungs.
Looking slightly more tomato than human as he stood up, still stringing multitudes of curses together and aiming them towards his sister, Ron stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard as he left that a Chudley Cannons poster of Ian MacDonald peeled slowly off of the opposite wall, landing at the foot of the bed.
"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Ginny said. Harry stared at his girlfriend who was now re-taping Ian to the wall.
"Well, at least he's going to the wedding now," she explained.
"Ginny?" Harry asked. "Remind me never to get on your bad side. I don't foresee me ever wanting to be transfigured into some sort of small creature for interrogations and lectures."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Saturday morning, the wedding party arrived early to take pictures. Ginny, since she wasn't too close of friends with Lavender, had been hired as the wedding photographer. The bride had chosen to have the pictures taken in the castle's northern gardens, for the southern ones by the lake were to be used for the reception party after the ceremony.
After Lavender's insistence that she didn't want a whole 'lot of stiff-looking, snotty people' in her wedding album, everyone had been ordered to come in casual Muggle street clothes. As Ginny was setting up her camera and tripod, the wedding party milled around the garden in twos and threes, jeans and polo shirts looking very out of place next to Venemous Tentaculas and the Fire Azaleas, which were just beginning to bloom in pale pink flames.
With a huge list of shots needed, Ginny decided to get started as soon as she could. "Lavender!" she called to the bride. Lavender twirled around from the back of the garden, her hair cut into a short bob that swayed with her as she gracefully scurried to the camera, dragging a protesting Seamus all the way. Seamus never had liked getting his picture taken, and this was no exception.
Once they were settled on the bench in a position both suited to the photographer and the subjects, Ginny started clicking away, her mind preoccupied with the well-being of Ron and Hermione. So far, they were standing on opposite ends of the garden area, and stealing glances at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking. As luck would have it, though, they always ended up making eye contact and then breaking it as fast as they could, pretending they didn't notice the other one had been looking at them too.
All in all, it was quite irritating to Ginny, who could see the whole thing through the lens.
"Okay," she nodded to Lavender and Seamus after various poses and almost an entire roll of film had been taken, "you two lovebirds are free to go now. Can you collect my brother and Mya for their shots, please? I need to check on something." As Ron and Hermione were being rounded up, a woman in her mid-forties walked up behind her.
Ginny turned around. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Brown," she said to Lavender's mother, who was observing the photography session. A Muggle-born witch from America, Delilah Brown was somewhat out of place amongst all of the calmer, more soft-spoken people milling around the garden. Petite as she was, her voice sounded as if it belonged in a woman three times her size; she was that loud.
"Hey, y'all," he called out to Ron and Hermione, who had seated themselves on the extreme opposite sides of the bench, "Scoot yourselves a little closer, y'hear?" Hermione reluctantly moved to the center of the bench, and Ron, if possible, moved farther off of the end. "No, no, dear child, closer! Heavens to Betsy, honey, that sweet girl won't bite! Sit your bootatamus next to hers, and hold her hands! Up, by your heart where we can see them, sugar! Now, lean your head next to hers... perfect!" She nodded at Ginny, who had her camera ready.
As the camera clicked away, taking about a shot a second, Hermione hissed through her smile at Ron. "Why won't you stop being stubborn and just cooperate for once, Ronald Weasley? It wouldn't kill you just to be helpful for a change, now would it?"
"As helpful as you were when you kicked me out of your life? That blow's still stinging, Hermione, and it's hard to smile through the pain, no matter how much I care about Seamus and Lavender," he whispered into her ear as they changed positions, his vitriolic words eating away at her heart like acid. He stood up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders as directed, smiling as wide as he could to keep from crying, not knowing that Hermione, below him, was shaking with unshed tears as well.
A whirring noise came from the camera, and they were told to relax while Ginny changed rolls of film. "Gosh Ron," Hermione started to say, "I'm sor-"
He stood up sharply. "You're sorry? Well, guess what, Hermione, sorry just isn't going to cut it this time, hun. You were right, a couple of days ago. We ARE through." He stalked off.
Hermione buried her head in her hands and slumped to the ground. I finally get him to agree with me, and I'm even more miserable than before! What's wrong with me??
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The time for the ceremony approached. The main hall, where the actual ceremony was to take place, had been lavishly decorated with peach and cream colored carnations, and soft, sparkling balls of light floated around the ceiling. All of the windows had been opened to allow the spring breeze through the hallway, producing the effect that it was actually a pavilion of some sort, instead of the entrance hall to an age-old castle.
Ron had been bitter and snappish to everyone all day, except Seamus and Lavender. He was in a horrible mood, but he really didn't want to ruin their wedding. Finally, everyone had changed and the beginning of the wedding was imminent, as he, Seamus, and Harry stood at the altar in their Auror dress uniforms, navy blue with cream trimming. A piano was playing Ave Maria in the background as everyone finished being seated, and the wedding march struck up.
A fairy, in place of the traditional flower girl, came down the aisle, strewing glitter dust and flower petals all over the floor. Then came the bridesmaids, Padma Patil and Lavender's younger sister Heidi, wearing matching navy dresses. Chiffon rustled as they moved to the left side of the altar, the hoop skirts of their sleeveless dresses hampering their every movement.
Next to enter was Hermione, looking absolutely stunning as the Maid of Honor. A long, floor length strapless gown had been chosen for her, and while it lacked the ostentatious hoops the bridesmaids were wearing, it still flared slightly at the bottom, a layer of tulle pushing the navy taffeta away from her legs. Her light brown hair had been tamed once again, and pulled up into an elegant bun, secured on the top of her head by a small, single carnation, just beginning to bloom.
Ron couldn't take his eyes off of her. Try as he might to pay attention to Lavender, radiant with happiness, as she came up to Seamus and took his hand, or while they were listening to the pastor speak of the holiness of the covenant they were about to enter into, or even as they began taking their vows - all he could do was stare at Hermione. She was watching the happy couple receive their rings, and Ron used all his inner strength to throw his attention on Seamus and Lavender.
"The giving and receiving of rings is a symbol of the covenant in which you are entering, representing the joy, faith, and neverending love which comes with marriage. As you have both expressed your wishes to proceed, bless you both. I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss the bride."
Seamus, with hands trembling from sheer joy lifted the delicate veil from Lavender's face and drew her into a soft, yet passionate kiss. As the entire congregation began to clap, Ron's determination gave out and he glanced back over to Hermione. To his surprise, she was staring at him with tears in her eyes. Both stood there, frozen, not wanting to break the eyes contact, the first peaceful correlation they'd had in days. Almost everyone had left the hall to go to the reception party when Ron finally snapped out of his trance and grumbled, "We'd better go congratulate them, and make a presence at the party, before someone thinks there's something wrong."
Hermione nodded, and followed him out of the hall and into the gardens.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dinner was a casual affair, just a basic 'eat what you want, when you want' buffet, complete with ghost waiters behind the table, conjuring up what you wished to eat, if it wasn't already there. The dancing was going on all night, and music was played by a sort of magical jukebox. The sensors picked up on the dominant emotions in the room, and played songs accordingly. (It also normally took requests, but after Padma and Heidi requested "It's Raining Men,' the request function was disabled by a very embarrassed Mr. Brown).
The first dance of the evening was, of course, solely for Lavender and Seamus. It had an intrinsic value, as well; this song had been played at Seamus's parents wedding. As they swayed around the patio, looking totally in love, one could even feel the adoration passing between the two of them.
*Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you
Stronger than any mountain cathedral
Truer than any tree ever grew
Deeper than any forest medieval
I am in love with you
I'll bring fire in the winters,
You'll send showers in the springs
We'll fly through the falls and summers
With love on our wings
Through the years as the fire starts to mellow
Burning lines in the book of our lives,
Though the binding cracks, and the pages start to yellow
I'll be in love with you*
The song ended, and many other couples took the floor. Ron turned around to find Hermione standing there. "Would you like to dance now," she said, "and get our show for the general public over with?" He nodded mutely, too numb with pain and anger and confusion to lash out, and taking her hand in his, led her to a corner of the floor near the balcony, where no one was likely to bother them. It was also, however, home to the magical jukebox, and it sensed their emotional distress.
A song unlikely to be heard at a wedding came on as they danced, falling into the unwanted comfort of each other's arms.
Her head rested on Ron's shoulder, Hermione sighed. "I really am sorry for all of this, Ron. I didn't mean for any of this to turn out the way it did. Something, just felt strange for the past month or so, like your feelings toward me were different. You were antsy all the time; I figured you were trying to find the nicest way to tell me to leave, that's all. Our relationship sure wasn't growing any... and I don't want to be in something inert, that's just at a standstill. It's pointless."
Ron twirled Hermione out, then spun her back in dangerously close. "Listen, Mya," he hissed in her ear, looking to everyone else like he was whispering sweet nothings to her, "I have never stopped loving you; not even now, when my heart is hating you for all the cruel words that pierced it. I just wish you'd stop thinking with your head and start feeling with your heart."
*If I had just one tear rolling down your cheek,
Maybe I could cope, maybe I'd get some sleep;
If I had just one moment at your expense
Maybe all my misery would be well spent*
They waltzed around their little corner, nearing ever more close to the open French doors leading to the lawn, and then the lake only 5 meters below. They spun out the doorway onto the balcony as Ron continued, "If you don't love me, then so be it. But if you still do, then so help me god, I can't say what I'd end up doing - why can't you see you're pulling me to pieces with this whole ordeal? Aren't you at least a little upset with what you killed two days ago?"
*Could you cry a little, lie just a little,
Pretend that you're feeling a little more pain
I gave, now I'm wanting something in return,
So cry a little for me...*
Hermione sniffled, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she listened to the strains of music playing a cruel irony with her emotions. "I-I still love you, Ron. I always have, and I know that I always will. I'm just not sure... well, if I'm still in love with you. Oh, good lord, I'm so confused!" She broke away from him, and sat down on the grass inches away from the water. Ron stood a few feet away, kicking at the water's edge, his hands placed firmly in his pockets.
"So, basically, you've been lying to me for a while about how you felt, just playing along in this little game, not caring if anyone gets hurt, right? Well, guess what? I got hurt." Ron said bitterly, staring into the darkness hanging over the area. A single cloud was blotting out the moon, but the crystalline web of stars was still hanging in a net of hope above them.
*If your love could be caged, honey I would hold the key,
And conceal it underneath the pile of lies you handed me;
And you'd hunt, but those lies - they'd be all you'd ever find
That'd be all you'd have to know for me to feel fine*
"Oh, Ron, you know that's not true! I'm straightforward, you know that. I would've said something sooner. But really, be realistic! There's no point in being in a relationship that isn't growing!" Hermione said, exasperated through her tears. She looked up at him, willing him, imploring him to believe her. Ron looked away again, watching the soft, gentle waves bring a stick into shore.
*Give it up baby, I hear you're doing fine,
Nothing's going to save me, I see it in your eyes,
Some kind of heartache coming, give it a try -
I don't want pity; I just want what is mine*
"If only you knew what I've been through in the past week..." Ron tailed off as Hermione removed something uncomfortably familiar from the water. "What's that?"
Hermione's voice was filled with wonder as she held the small velvet box in her hand, dripping slightly as it had just been aroused from it's hiding place on the bottom of the lake. "It's a jewelry box. And it's not empty... where are you going? What's wrong? Ron!" she called as he took off running, up the hill and back into the castle as fast as he could, busting through the French doors at full speed.
She struggled to her feet, surprise and curiosity overpowering her strong urge to just sit and weep. Bundling her skirts in one hand, she kicked off her shoes and rushed after hi at full speed. Sprinting through the balcony doors, she frantically glanced around the dance floor for Ron, but he had already gone, either into another room, or Disapparated entirely. Ginny rushed over as soon as she saw Hermione in a large amount of distress.
"Mya! What's wrong? And why did my brother just come running through here?" she implored, leading her to an out-of-the-way table where Harry, Neville, and his girlfriend, Hannah Abbot, were sitting. Ginny gently prodded her into a chair and prompted, "Tell."
"Well, we were arguing about, well, 'us' and then this box washed up on shore. I picked it up, and he took one look at it and ran. I can't imagine why." Hermione explained, and then showed them the box. "I haven't opened it yet, but it's heavy enough to hold a ring or a pendant."
Ginny groaned, and slapped her hand across her eyes. "I told him he should have come and retrieved it when he had the chance - now it's too late and the cat's out of the bag." She turned to Hermione. "Mya, when you went to dinner, and Ron had something to tell you, did he ever get to tell you what that was?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Well, this will shed some light on why he's so upset. He was going to propose to you, but you ended it before he got the chance." Ginny explained, as cautiously as she could.
Hermione gasped. "You-you... you must be joking. He couldn't- would he?" Tears started streaming down her face. "Oh, how could I have hurt him so..." Wiping a tear away, she protested, "But this wouldn't have anything to do with that," she pointed at the jewelry box on the table in front of her, "would it?"
Harry nodded. "That's your ring, Mya. Your engagement ring. Open it up and see."
Fingers trembling, Hermione picked up the box and opened it. She gasped as the small black container revealed its contents, the opal still shimmering in all its beauty, despite being underwater for two days. Lifting it from its perch upon the satin pillow inside, she let the gold sparkle in the candlelight as she read the inscription on the inside of the ring.
Hermione Elisabeth Granger
Well, that's all for chapter two! Sorry once again for the wait... the holiday season kept me captive!! Many thanks to all my reviewers on chapter one, your comments were very encouraging, and kept me from trashing the story completely when it wasn't going where I wanted it to!
Many extra thanks, hugs, and brownie points to MystyAngel and FluorescentBen! for helping me figure out this HTML nonsense. Like I've said many times before, and will probably say forever - I hate technology, and the feeling is mutual.
I absolutely LOVE my beta readers, Jenn, AngelwingS, and (even more love) to MitieMouse, for our 2 a.m. beta swapping session- good times.
Disclaimer #2: I don't own the song "longer" by Dan Fogelberg, nor do I own Charlotte's Web, which was written by E.B. White. I think that's all.
If you think there was a serious lack of description in the wedding... there was supposed to be! It's from Ron's POV, and he was only focusing on one thing - Hermione. As it should have been.
Reviews VERY welcome, they keep me writing!!! Flames are acceptable... they will be put in a barrel and given to the hobo on the corner of Fifth and Main for a late Christmas present.
Until next time, Melodi