Wedding Preparations and Penguin Parfait.

10 years later…

This was the first day off for Hermione since her promotion two years ago and she had fully intended on making the most of it. Yet instead of being snuggled up in bed with a good book; or in a hot bath with a good book; or even on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book, Hermione was standing on a low stool in the fitting room of Madame Malkin's shop. Two far-sighted witches circled around her looking for excuses to stab her with yet another of their multitude of pins. Hermione had closed her eyes after the last three pins had been stabbed into her side and dreamt longingly for the book that was lying on her bedside table. Thus she did not realize Mrs Weasley's presence in the room until she heard a gasp.

'Oh my!' Mrs Weasley sobbed as she looked up at Hermione. 'Oh my Aunt Mildred's goats, you look beautiful. You look perfect. Oh I'm so proud. It's perfect. Just perfect.'

Mrs Weasley reached down to straighten the hem of Hermione's dress robe but was soon so overcome by emotion that she clapped a hand over her mouth and ran out of the room once more. Hermione greatly wanted to sigh, but the robe she was being fitted for didn't allow for that. In fact, Hermione feared that if she heaved to great a breath, this torture device of a dress would send pins flying across the room stabbing the little old witches. She definitely didn't need to give them further excuse to torment her. Resigned, Hermione sighed inwardly and closed her eyes once more.

'You must have nerves of steel to endure this… and that.' Ginny Weasley laughed, nodding at the door of her mother's hasty exit. Hermione opened one eye to look at her red-headed friend, who had just strolled into the room. Dressed casually in muggle jeans and a plain white t-shirt, Ginny was openly laughing at her friend's misfortune. Scowling at Ginny who was all but rolling on the floor with laughter, Hermione finally lost the temper she had been struggling to keep in check all day.

'Well I'm glad you're happy Ginny. And you should be. You're not the one standing here looking like a penguin. A penguin dipped in parfait. A penguin dipped in parfait, with its own nest for hair.' Hermione snapped hysterically.

The two hobbling witches finally halted their poking and tightening, to look up at Hermione with beady eyes. With simultaneous disgruntled hmphs, they swept out of the room.

'Oh,' Hermione muttered, feeling a little stunned, 'if I had known that's all it took I would have done that ages ago.'

'Come on Hermione, let's get you out of that awful dress, go home and have a nice cup of tea.' Ginny said with laughter still in her voice.

She reached a hand up to help Hermione off the stool. With an awkward flop swing of her leg, Hermione stepped down and then stopped. Ginny turned back with a questioning frown as her friend swiveled around and most awkwardly got back on the stool.

'Hold on, just let me try that again.'

And with another ungainly flop swing of her leg, she was off the stool once more.

'Dammit! Not even a rip! I swear they've put an iron-clad binding spell on this. I don't understand why all the pins are necessary.' Hermione winced in irritation.

Ginny simply chuckled and shook her head at Hermione.

'Hey don't laugh at me. This is all your fault. I don't understand why your mum is making such a big deal about this. You'd think I was the one getting married instead of you.'

Ginny held her hands up in a show of mock innocence. 'You know how it is: only girl in the family getting married. Mum just wants everything to be perfect.'

Despite the fact she was strapped in a completely heinous gown and despite the complete waste of her only day off, it was hard for Hermione to be truly angry at Ginny. With her flaming-red hair tied into two short ponytails, her head thrown back with laughter, Ginny looked carefree and genuinely happy. Hermione simply couldn't believe that Harry and Ginny were finally getting married.

'Yeah, it'll be perfect… If you're a penguin who likes parfait.

Back at their flat, Hermione was gratefully back in her comfy muggle clothes and sprawled on the couch. Ginny was curled up in the corner of the couch, smiling wistfully at Hermione.

'Who could have imagined we would be engaged at the same time? Me and Harry; you and Greg.' Ginny said, 'Imagine if we were getting married at the same time.'

'Oh no Ginny, Greg and I are hoping for a long engagement; a very long engagement.' Hermione smiled.

She couldn't help but smile whenever she thought of him. Greg Johnson was a muggle: born and bred. He was a scientist and like most scientists believed that absolutely everything could be explained in terms of chemistry, physics and biology.

'Listen Hermione, I meant what I said before. I really want you AND Greg at my wedding.' Ginny said, 'I want the both of you to be there for my special moment, just like Harry and I are going to be there for yours.'

'Ginny, you know that's not a good idea.' Hermione shook her head at her friend.

'I can't believe you still haven't told him yet.'

Hermione looked away, guiltily. 'Well it's not exactly the easiest bit of news to impart, is it? It's not like, say if you're cooking: "Hope you're hungry. Oh and by the way, I'm a witch." Or doing the laundry: "Got any socks to do? Oh yeah and I'm head of government for a secret society of witches and wizards."'

Ginny's body shook with mirth as she gave her friend a light pat on the shoulder.

'Oh come on Hermione, I know you don't cook or do the laundry.'

'Precisely,' Hermione scowled at Ginny, who was enjoying her dilemma far too much, 'I will tell him. I'm just waiting for the opportune moment.'

'Yeah and when will that be?'

'Oh I don't know, maybe when our first child gets their Hogwarts letter.'

Ginny laughed so hard she fell off the couch. Rolling her eyes, Hermione pushed off the couch and headed for the kitchen. But Ginny grabbed at her ankle, halting her progress. With a great sigh, Hermione turned back to her friend.

'I mean it Hermione. If not the wedding then, Greg is coming to the reception at the very least.' Ginny said, still lying on the floor, 'I promise I'll talk to my family. No funny business.' Then, at the thought of her older twin brothers, 'Well maybe some funny business; but definitely no magicky business.'

Understanding the lengths Ginny was willing to go to for Greg to be at her wedding; Hermione finally gave in. 'Fine, fine, Greg is coming… to the reception. I don't think I could get away with a magical wedding without him noticing… But I'm only agreeing because I know if I refuse, you won't hesitate to hex me. And I know you'll have no qualms about having a bat for a maid-of-honor.'

Ginny gave an excited squeal and jumped up to give her maid-of-honor-to-be a fierce hug. When she pulled away, tears were shimmering in her eyes.

'Merlin's toes! I can't believe I'm getting married. To Harry Potter, of all wizards.'

Hermione grinned and gave her friend a light shove on the shoulder.

'Yeah and shouldn't you be out enjoying your last days of freedom anyway?'

'I am enjoying my last days of so-called freedom. And now that you mention it, I'm glad you didn't organize me a Hen's Night. I mean the traditional consumption of a live hen's brain just turns my stomach; poor little hens.'

Hermione simply looked at Ginny curiously, wondering why she had never read about that before.

'Oh come on, Hermione. It was a joke.' Ginny laughed, 'But seriously, I am thoroughly enjoying myself just sitting here relaxing with you.'

'Oh no!' Hermione groaned, 'You really wanted a Hen's Night, didn't you? I can tell! And as your maid-of-honor I have failed you. Oh I'm so sorry, Ginny. I just didn't think about it.'

'Hermione, it's fine. I— .'

The doorbell rang, and Hermione, looking very guilty, jumped up to get it.

'I'll get it Gin. Probably just some saleswitch. I'll be right back and you can show me what a good friend you are by waving off my idiocy.'

Ginny just sighed happily as she listened to the door opening, followed by Hermione's short and succinct conversational tones. Hermione was always very good at dealing with these saleswitches.

'Hey, Ginny! Could you come over here and give me a hand.'

Ginny frowned in puzzlement. Surely Hermione hadn't actually bought something. Feeling very curious, Ginny made her way to the front door, only to see that the door had seemingly been replaced by hundreds of multi-colored balloons. Before she could say a word, Hermione grabbed the balloon strings and shoved them in her hands. But Ginny was in such a state of shock that the strings simply slipped through her fingers.

'SURPRISE!' a chorus of female voices yelled.

As the balloons floated up to the ceiling, Ginny saw all her friends filing into the front hallway.

'Hermione!' Ginny grinned.

Hermione simply grinned back and shooed the gaggle of giggles into the living room. She turned back to close the door but stopped when she saw a single flower on the front step. She was amazed it hadn't been crushed by the horde. Hermione leant down to pick up the white Asiatic lily, thinking it was a rather romantic gesture on Harry's behalf; then noticed the piece of parchment beneath it. Her eyes narrowed at the words:

Back for good…D

Feeling a shiver down her spine, Hermione straightened and looked around. The street was bustling as usual. Young and polished saleswitches were knocking on doors; little old wizards were taking their pet tortoises for walks. Then there: not even two houses away, with his whitish blond hair being swept up by the wind he stood. Hermione felt her heart pounding in her chest and her hand clenched over the doorknob. A part of her wanted to run back into the flat and slam the door shut. The other part of her wanted to run over there – just to see.

He didn't move, simply stood there as if frozen. Hermione's suddenly sweaty hand slipped off the door handle and she took a step forward.

'Hermione, what are you doing out there? Get in here and join the party.' Ginny's voice rang from inside the flat.

Startled, Hermione turned her head towards the doorway. When she turned back towards the street, he was gone. She was hardly surprised, yet still she felt her stomach sink. Frowning, she steeled herself and shook her head.

'No,' she whispered, scrunching up the parchment and stuffing it into her pockets, 'No.'

Hermione stepped into the flat and quickly shoved the flower she held into the vase of Ginny's many flowers.

'Oh my, is that a willy shaped balloon?' an over-excited voice squealed from the living room.

Shutting the front door, Hermione dropped her head against the back of it. Pressing the entire flower episode to the back of her mind, she desperately longed for a quiet moment and the book by her bedside table.