A/n: I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. Thank you so much for all your reviews and for waiting patiently, I hope you'll stick with the story. My exams are over and done with now and it's freed up more time for my writing. There were a couple of problems with publishing the chapter but it got here in the end! Lol I want to thank Twighlight's Dawn for all her help in the previous chapters and thank my new beta Deena for all her hard work on this chapppie. I hope you enjoy this; after all it's been a long wait! Much love, Sinéad xXx

The Wedding

Part One

"Hermione, where the hell is my lip-gloss? It was specially made for me, you know and it doesn't clash with my hair. I need it and now I've lost it. Oh this is a disaster." Ginny roared. The noise could be heard throughout the Burrow, Hermione was sure. The frantic bride was now clambering through her old bedroom. Old perfume bottles, cosmetics, magazines and clothes lay strewn across the rickety dressing table. A slight dampness was appearing on her perfectly made-up face as the beads of sweat glistened brightly as she panicked.

Hermione sighed and picked up the little tube from the alcove seat behind her, glancing out the window quickly before turning to the distressed bride. It was a bright day for December. The trees and grass were smothered in a thin layer of frost and ice inhabited the potholes on the small walkway to the front door. She could tell the air would be cold and crisp. The perfect conditions for The Wedding. Thank Merlin, or she might have had to deal with an even more emotionally distraught bride.

"Is this it, Ginny, dear?" Hermione breathed, mustering as much self-control as possible.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Ginny sighed, pushing a damp tendril from her forehead to her mane of flaming red tresses.

The wedding was now two hours and four minutes away. Finally, the big day had come: Ginny and Harry's wedding, or as Hermione liked to call it, D-Day. This morning the Weasley household bore an un-canny resemblance to a battlefield. There was Mrs. Weasley, the sergeant, ordering the world and its mother around the busy house. There was the panicking bride, Ginny, who screamed and cried before bursting into tears of joy and excitement. Chief bridesmaid was certainty an important job, she thought sarcastically. Mopping the bride's forehead, bringing her toast, finding her misplaced lip-gloss, reassuring her everything was perfect and possibly slapping her before the day was out.

Hermione sighed again for what seemed like the hundredth time this morning. Her head was a sea of confusion, and a stormy one at that. She couldn't forget the previous night and the look on Ron's face. It seemed such a long time ago that they were friends which she calculated was only twenty-four hours. She couldn't bear to think how Ron was feeling. Her eyes began to tear over as she once more thought of that disappointed, almost pleading face. It broke her heart to see him like that. Truthfully though, she had not only broken his heart but hers, too.

"Hermione," Ginny shouted, "has Flitwick finished with those privacy charms yet? I really don't want The Daily Prophet getting any more snaps. It is my special day. Oh, and check if the men have arrived, too. Oh and could you get me another Jammie Dodger and give us a hot drop, too," Ginny ordered as she carried out the immense tasks of applying her lip-gloss and adjusting one of her hair clips.

Hermione smiled grudgingly, taking the almost full cup of tea, "Of course, Gin." If this didn't drive her off the edge she didn't know what would.

"Oh, and Hermione?" Ginny began puckering her now glossy lips.

"What?" Hermione snapped, before slipping another smile in place. Restrain

yourself, she whispered.

"Thanks," Ginny uttered, turning to face Hermione with a warm smile spreading

across her face.

"For what?" Hermione asked, slightly puzzled.

"You know what," Ginny began, rubbing her hand comfortingly across Hermione's

shoulder.

"No, not really. What?"

"I know it's hard for you. But the way you're dealing with it is awesome. Thank you." Ginny now patted her gently.

"Dealing with what?"

"Ron," Ginny replied, smiling meekly.

"Ron?"

"It'll work out, Hermione. I know it will. I promise," Ginny spoke defiantly, putting her arm around the other woman's shoulder. "These things always work out. Look at me and Harry," she grinned.

"Thanks," Hermione spoke softly, before exiting the bedroom.

"I can't do it, Harry." a frustrated voice called.

"Come here, Ron, it's easy. Just fold it over twice and wrap the big bit round…" Harry began laughing before he was cut off.

"I mean Hermione. I can't go through with it today. I can't pretend that it's all okay. I can't pretend I don't, you know, love her." He squirmed. This was getting ridiculous, he thought. He was a grown man not a schoolboy. He should be able to quell his feelings, convince himself to be satisfied with friendship but he was unable to tell his gut this.

"Don't worry Ron. It'll be fine and sort itself out. Anyhow, I need you here today, don't I? Who's gonna be my slave and embarrass himself delivering his best man speech if you're not here?" Harry elbowed him trying to lighten the mood.

"Oi, it's not that bloody bad, mate," he laughed before turning serious again.

"I just messed it all up. I mean I'd rather have her as a friend than not have her at all. Now I have nothing."

"Believe me, Ron. No matter how bad anything is, no matter how awful it gets,

you'll never have nothing." Harry looked Ron straight in the eye. "You can always count on your family and me, and you can always, always count on Hermione," Harry assured him.

Ron did not reply but braced himself for the day ahead. He had to do this for

Harry and Ginny, but he had to do it for himself, also. He was just about to thank Harry when he heard the door behind him click shut. He glanced down at his watch. It wasn't long now. Just over an hour and half in fact. I had better get on with the rest of my duties, he thought.

As Harry began down the old, rickety stairs of the Burrow, he couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he couldn't let Ron's hurt overshadow the happiest day of his life. Anyway, it wasn't like Ron and Hermione could stay apart, was it? He frowned. Then again, when he thought about it, some of their fights… Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by something colliding heavily into his chest. He looked down to see a head of brown hair sobbing slightly, not realilising the impact.

Hermione looked up timidly to see whom she had run into. Her eyes were watery but she could at the very least make out that there was no red hair. She didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed by this.

"Harry?" she asked, blinking back her tears and taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you alright Hermione?" his voice was full of concern. He gently patted her back.

Hermione shrugged him off lightly. This was not the place or time to feel sorry for herself. She didn't need his sympathy. It was all her fault. She quickly brushed away another stray tear and plastered a huge smile across her once sombre face.

"I'm perfectly fine," she lied, taking another step up the stairs while walking around Harry. "You look really handsome, Harry, I'm proud of you. Good luck." And with that, she left leaving Harry utterly dumbstruck.

Hermione turned anxiously to the Weasley household clock again for about the fourth time. It was now two minutes past one. They were about to start the ceremony. They all stood by the back door that led to the back garden where the marriage would take place. Hermione was second in line. In front of her were the pageboy and the flower girl, also known as Paul, Bill and Fleur's three-year-old, and Fred and Angelina's incredibly bossy, five-year-old, Lucy. Behind her were Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

Lucy was having a fit because Paul refused to hold her hand. "I'm a princess! He has to hold my hand," she argued.

"I know, honey. He'll do it, won't you, little Paulie?" Hermione pleaded.

Paul, however seemed far too fascinated in his new batch of Chocolate Frog cards to even acknowledge Hermione's request.

"Do I look okay, Hermione, truthfully? I don't know if this was the right veil. The shorter one with the elf-made beads might have…" Ginny was fidgeting nervously with her veil before being stopped.

"You look, beautiful," Hermione sighed. Ginny's dress was a pale ivory that shimmered slightly when she moved. It had a corseted bodice and a long, slightly flaring skirt. The bodice was decorated with tiny gold crystals sprinkled here and there that gleamed in the fire lit kitchen. Her hair was piled atop her head in curls. One or two tendrils had escaped and were now framing her glowing face. She had a simple gold tiara and an ivory veil that just skimmed the floor.

Neville poked his head in the door, interrupting Hermione's reassurances. "Are we about ready to start, then?" he asked.

Everyone looked towards Ginny. She nodded with a smile, but clearly looked nervous.

"We'll see you in a minute then. Oh, and Gin, good luck," he called, turning his back and exiting the room.

The music began and Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand. Arthur gave her a peck on the cheek while Lucy yanked Paul's cards from him and grabbed hold of his hand.

The door opened and the music became louder. They couldn't see anything yet but heard the guests stand. Hermione nudged Lucy and Paul out first and they proceeded up the aisle. She counted to ten as she had been told, waiting for her cue. She took a deep breath and stepped outside.

The cold air hit her immediately but that wasn't what was making her heart pound, making her stifle a gasp, or sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes were filling with tears because him. He was all she could focus on. The rest of the guests, the wedding, and the world were fading away. His intense look was just for her. She could see the pain in his eyes and was sure that pain was reflected in hers as well. She arrived at the top of the aisle and turned, breaking the steely eye contact he held with her. Ginny followed and the ceremony began, but Hermione hardly noticed.

She was consumed with thoughts of the man across the aisle from her, making her never want to see that look of hurt in his eyes again. It was settled; she had to tell him.

Thanks so much for reading. Please review; I love feedback bad or good. We're reaching the last hurdles so you'll hear from me soon, I promise!