Part Five:

After the holiday was over, things went back to normal...sort of. Hermione was working longer hours at St. Mungo's now that she was officially a Healer. She specialized in potion poisoning, but she was also trained in helping people who'd been cursed.

At five o'clock on a January evening, Hermione was happy to be leaving the hospital. It had been her longest day ever: three Polyjuice mixups (three brothers had been trying to turn into each other but instead had turned into half-human, half-rat things), a shriking potion gone horribly wrong, and a wizard in a coma after his girlfriend slipped him a messed-up love potion.

But as Hermione was heading out the door, one of the Healers from the curses unit grabbed her. "Granger! We're short-handed at curses, we need you for the next three hours."

"THREE HOURS?"

"Oglesby and Peppercorn are both out today. We need you, Granger."

Hermione sighed. "I'll have to contact my fiancee..."

"The secretary can have an owl sent to him."

As she was practically dragged to the unit by the other Healer, Hermione felt her heart sink. She'd promised Ron that she'd go out to dinner with him (this time at a Muggle seafood place that he was dying to try). She felt horribly, and wished that she at least had time to write him an owl herself.

But she was busy for the next three hours, with a witch with two heads, a young boy with one eye ("that brother of his, I'm going to KILL him!" the mother shrieked), and an older wizard with his two front teeth expanding (just as Hermione's had done the fourth year). By eight o'clock, she was dead tired. She dashed out the door before anyone could stop her.

Hermione knew that she should Apparate home, but she knew that the cool night would clear her head. She looked in the windows of some of the Muggle shops as she walked. Then suddenly, she stopped.

In the window of one of the shops was a wedding dress. But not just any old wedding dress: Hermione's dream dress. SPRING DRESS JUST IN! 30% OFF! the sign said.

The dress on display would be perfect. Long, not too lacy, sparkly on top, sleeveless. Fairly simple, but fancy. Forgetting her fatigue, Hermione dashed inside and asked to try on the dress. The lady got the dress from the window ("one of a kind, miss"), and Hermione, praying that it would fit, took it into the dressing room.

She wasn't sure if some magic was helping, but the dress fit perfectly. She tryed on the veil that came with it, and looked at herself in the mirror. And practically gasped.

This was it. The one.

"How much?" she asked the saleslady, after spending nearly 20 minutes in the dressing room, twirling around and admiring herself.

"2700 pounds."

Hermione nearly had a heart attack. That was the sales price? That was like 900 galleons! Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't go for it...but it was the PERFECT DRESS!

She made her choice: "Could I put it on hold?"

"Of course." The saleslady raised her eyebrows, probably thinking that Hermione couldn't afford the dress. She was halfway right: even with her high-paying job as a Healer, she didn't have 900 galleons to blow...I'll just discuss it with Ron, she thought as she left the store and headed down the street. Trying on the dress had put a new spring in her step.

Hermione finally made it home, and opened the door. Before she could head into the living room, Ron came out to greet her. "I was getting worried: they said you'd be off by eight."

"I was. I just got...sidetracked." As Hermione headed into the living room with Ron at her heels, she told him how she'd found a gorgeous wedding dress in a Muggle shop. "It's so beautiful, Ron. I really want you to see it, so I put it on hold."

"Well, if you want it, go ahead and get it," Ron said. Then he paused. "Um...just wondering, how much is it?"

Hermione gulped. "2700 pounds." Ron didn't know Muggle money, so he didn't look as startled as a Muggle would've. "Um, that's about 900 galleons."

"WHAT?!" Ron's face turned red. "Hermione, honestly, 900 galleons. We don't have-"

"But, Ron, it's one of a kind! Perfect!"

"Hermione," Ron said with a moan, "why do you need to have a 900 GALLEON dress for our wedding?"

Hermione felt herself flush with anger. "What am I supposed to wear, Ron? That atrocity that your mother calls a "wedding dress"?" With that, she stalked into the bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it with a spell.

Ron didn't try to get in, but he would've been able to with "Alohomora" if he'd really wanted to. Obviously my feelings aren't all that important to him, she thought huffily, crossing her arms and staring out the window at the darkening street below. She knew she was being immature, but she wanted their wedding to be perfect. She already knew that it wouldn't be the large, extravagent wedding that she'd dreamed of as a little girl, and she was fine with that: a small, cozy wedding would work. But I just want this one thing, she thought. And I'm going to have it...

The next day on her lunch break, Hermione took 900 galleons from her Gringotts vault and exchanged them for Muggle money. She had her 2700 pounds, and she went back to the dress shop to buy the dress.

"Would you like to try it on again?" the saleslady, clearly surprised that she was back to get the dress, asked. Hermione agreed. Just like the night before, she went into the dressing room and put on the dress. She turned to look in the mirror...

And frowned. The dress and veil were beautiful, yes, but they seemed much too fancy for her. And she knew, with a sinking heart, that Ron was right...she shouldn't spend so much on a dress. She quickly took it off and gave the dress back to the saleslady. "I've changed my mind." The lady looked pretty pissed off. She probably thinks I had no intention of buying the dress, Hermione thought. Oh, well.

Hermione still had some time before going back to the hospital, so she searched the sales racks for another dress. And she felt her heart burst with happiness as she pulled out a dress even more perfect then the 900 galleon one: strapeless, with beaded details, made of chiffon and satin (the more expensive dress was silk). This dress was only 400 pounds: approximately 130 galleons.

When Hermione tried it on (the saleslady rolled her eyes), she knew that Ron wouldn't object to the small splurge. Hermione bought the dress, rushed it home, and arrived back at the hospital for her afternoon shift.

She managed to get out of St. Mungo's by five that night (to her relief). She Apparated home, for once, and put on the dress before he came. She waited for him in bed: he was home soon after.

"Hermione? You here yet?"

"In the bedroom."

As Ron came in, he was saying, "Listen, I was just thinking: it's your wedding day, and you should get the dress you-WHOA!"

Hermione grinned. There she was, wedding dress and veil and all. "Do you like it?" She stood up, twirled, and stood before him.

"Is...is that it?"

Hermione shook his head. "This one was a lot cheaper." She looked thoughtfully. "But, what was that you were saying as you came in?"

"Um...nothing." Ron grinned with relief. He examined her, his eyes flashing. "Wow...you look absolutely beautiful."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her fiancee's waist and pulled him close. "What do you want to do?"

"Just rip that dress right off you."

"Don't you dare rip it."

Ron grinned and kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

And they forgot the fight from the night before...and forgot about the wedding dress as it lay on the floor.