After such a long time in the water that his skin turned all wrinkly, Harry got up and agreed with Hermione to tell someone they trusted to talk about their plans about tomorrow.
With their plans looming over their heads during dinner, mrs Weasley picked up on the swirling excitement and anxiousness between them – and maybe the straight up cuddling by the dinner table was a dead giveaway.
But she seemed more worried and paranoid. Harry very much wanted to tell everyone right away, but Hermione did rather want to keep as low of a profile as possible for now.
Aunt Petunia didn't seem to mind and just kept her conversation with the others going.
She dragged both of them into one of the two bathrooms right after their plates were empty and left Ron and Ginny to clean the dishes even though Bill was more than willing to do it since it was part his home; Harry suspected mrs Weasley didn't want them eavesdropping or snooping around.
She locked the door behind them, placing her hands on her hips with a facial expression that demanded answers.
"Do you mind telling me what this is all about? You're not planning to leave, are you?" said mrs Weasley, her eyes darted between both of their faces.
"Well…", Harry scratched his neck, not sure how to convey his thoughts on the subject.
"No! Of course, we aren't", said Hermione and mrs Weasleys face triumphantly lit up. "We're... we're having—"
Hermione was interrupted by mrs Weasley letting out a delighted shriek, before she caught herself and covered her mouth.
"You're having a baby?" she whispered. "Oh Harry, Hermione – I don't know… I don't know what to say. I'm so happy for you, you'll make great parents!"
Harry's face burned with embarrassment.
She attempted to hug both of them, but Harry quickly wringed them loose. He glanced at Hermione, whose face was probably redder than his.
Harry searched for Hermione's hand and took it in his, their fingers intertwining. "What? No. We're having—how should I put this? We have plans for a wedding."
Mrs Weasley gasped excitedly. Harry had to refrain himself from rolling his eyes. "That's wonderful! When?"
Hermione cleared her throat, her face still scorching red. "Well – tomorrow."
"That's—that's perfect!" Mrs Weasley had an apologetic look in her eyes, yet she hastily placed kisses on both Harry's and Hermione's cheeks; sometimes Harry wondered if she considered them to be her children too. "What a relief. How silly of me", added mrs Weasley, shaking her head. "But you're certain that you're not—?" She made a circular gesture towards her own stomach and then nodded with her head at Hermione.
"Yes, I'm sure! Anyway – the wedding."
Mrs Weasley nodded, her eyes still focused on Hermione's stomach. "We can't invite any guests aside from everyone here, and we certainly can't get you a dress, Hermione, I suppose Fleur have something that fits you… oh, are you two really sure you want to rush along with things like this?"
"I think so", said Harry and looked at Hermione who gave him a reassuring smile. "We might not get another chance."
The expression on mrs Weasley's face teemed with skepticism and doubt. "What about your parents, Hermione?"
"Can't we apparate them here?" asked Harry.
Hermione pursed her lips, she too looked doubtful. "I don't know. It might be too big of a risk, but I would really prefer to have them here for the wedding."
"Risk? What risk? Muggles live their lives like nothing is going on!" said Harry, upset for Hermione's sake; at least he had his only living relative here, but the Granger's absence from their daughter's wedding would feel empty.
Harry met Hermione's scrutinizing look. "Do you ever read the news?" She did a little shake with her head in disbelief.
"Not when I'm about to die, no", he responded, and realized it came out more sarcastic than he had intended.
She ignored his comment. "More Muggles than usual have died because of the irregular—what is it called—", she physically grasped with her hands in front of her, as though hoping to find the words she was looking for.
Never had he seen her at a loss for words, struggling to remember anything. It was highly unheard of that people akin to him; Harry Potter would help the genius witch Hermione Granger with anything that involved logic or words.
"Phenomenon's?" Harry suggested.
Hermione snapped her fingers. "Right, phenomenon's."
Harry stole a look from her, wondering if his less genius brain was rubbing off on her.
"Anyway", Hermione seemed extremely tilted that someone had to correct her. "Those phenomenon's have killed too many Muggles – and a few wizards – and I have explicitly told my parents not to go outside under any circumstances."
"Big words."
"Shut up, Harry", she waved her hand in the air as though he was an annoying fly buzzing around her head.
"We can still bring them here", Harry insisted.
The frustration was apparent on Hermione's face. Harry was more than expecting a good smack against the back of his head, but it never came.
With her hand on her face, mrs Weasley sighed. "Okay", she smiled weakly at Hermione, who looked at her, the pleading expression on her face seemingly too hard to tell off. "I'll contact Remus to bring your parents."
Hermione simply nodded in acknowledgment.
"Now, I think it's fitting to tell everyone else, don't you?" said mrs Weasley with a bright smile. "We have a lot to get ready in time, and we're going to need all of those hands to help out."
As Harry and Hermione walked out, hand in hand, the world seemed to slow down, almost to a standstill.
People were still gathered in the kitchen, laughing and talking, all content and dozy after dinner. Peter was precariously leaning backwards on a chair, nonchalantly balancing on the edges of the chair legs, about to fall asleep even though Harry saw him talking and laughing with an equally sleepy mr Weasley.
Hermione tugged Harry's hand. He turned his head to her.
"Maybe we should delay the wedding?" she whispered. "Everyone looks too tired."
Ron's eyes lit up as soon as he spotted the two of them. "Where did you run off to?"
"I don't think that's any of your business, Ron", murmured Ginny and winked at Harry. He didn't know how to respond to that so he gave her an awkward smile that he was sure made him look awfully sheepish.
Ron's brow furrowed.
Mrs Weasley cleared her throat loudly, prompting everyone to look her way. She turned her head to Harry and Hermione and tilted it, looking at them like a proud mother looked at her children. "I think it's best for you to explain, Harry and Hermione."
Ginny leaned backwards in her chair and placed her hands on her stomach, listening intently. Fred and George did the same.
Hermione smiled at Harry, and he couldn't help but feel a warm fuzzy feeling inside. He was reminded of how easily he could be himself with her now that he had accepted that Spider-Man or the Boy Who Lived wasn't all he had to be.
He returned the smile and squeezed her hand affectionately.
Hermione slightly opened her mouth and gave away a tiny gasp, the corners of her lip trembling.
"We—", she made a strange and suppressed kind of choking noise, again sounding worryingly like she was about to vomit. Harry moved his foot slightly towards the bathroom, ready to carry her there if he had to – she did look a bit green. "Harry and I… we're getting married. Tomorrow. We've been together for about two years and even if there have been several and honestly stressful, challenging moments, we want—want to marry."
Her words were met with bright smiles, applauds and an all-around endearing uproar, and in the case of aunt Petunia, sobbing. In a corner sat Draco, crossing his arms and scoffing.
As Harry basked in this feeling, that this was really happening, that he actually was going to marry Hermione as soon as tomorrow, he felt an odd rattling sensation in his hand.
Puzzled, looked down on their entangled hands, noticed that it was Hermione shaking, in fact, her entire body was shaking and trembling. A slight hint of green flushed over her face, the sweat on her hand making his own hand feel wet and icky.
The clapping and shouting continued even though Hermione appeared visibly sick.
He leaned in as close as he could to her ear. "Are you okay?"
She brought up her free arm to cover her mouth, her face turning close to grey.
"No!" Very abruptly, Hermione let go off his hand and she didn't just run, she bolted out of the room and vanished within seconds.
People curiously turned their heads to where she had gone off to.
Harry stood in place, baffled. Had she eaten something off, or was the thought of her own wedding that repulsive? A door slammed shut.
Mrs Weasley clapped her hands together. "I suppose we have to start planning."
"Told you", sneered Ron.
Harry glared at him before going after Hermione. As suspected, she had gone to the bathroom and now sat hunched over the edge of the toilet seat, trembling, her face covered by a lump of hair.
Harry heard mrs Weasley talking from the kitchen. "Fleur, maybe Hermione could borrow one of your— ", the rest became incomprehensible as Harry closed the door behind him.
Harry crouched down by her, let his hand gently whisk the hair away from her face.
"I'm fine!" she spluttered, vomit still dripping out of her mouth.
The repugnant stench of bile stung in his nose, making him feel a bit queasy but not enough to let dinner escape his stomach too.
"Clearly", he threw up a bit in his mouth.
Hermione made an awful, terrible noise as she lowered her head down into the toilet again, followed by another stream of vomit.
Harry was forced to look away, instead rubbing her back and trying to calm her nerves. She breathed in and let go of a very frustrated breath, her head still hanging.
"I don't understand", she said. "I'm not—we're not—"
"You're probably just stressed. Maybe we should turn in early for tonight", said Harry.
"And don't plan our own wedding?" spurted Hermione.
Harry quietly scoffed, this was very typical of Hermione, doing her damndest to not be confined to a bed.
The only time he really remembered her accepting that even her body could only take so much, was when she came down with a strange and terrible flu and been knocked out cold for the entire duration of their Easter break in their fifth year.
Hermione hurled again.
Harry fondly remembered how he had been sitting at the edge of his own bed at aunt Petunia's during the nights and keeping Hermione company. He also remembered less fondly how he had chosen to swing around the city as Spider-Man during the day instead of staying at home by Hermione's side.
Easter itself had been a disaster and they had returned to Hogwarts without doing much in terms of celebrating.
Hermione was still shaking, but no longer vomiting. She recoiled from the toilet set, bent forwards, her hair touching the ground and her face buried in her hands, her body lightly rocking back and forth. It was a very sad sight to witness her acting like this, he had to do something so he placed his hand on her exposed back.
She mumbled something incomprehensible into her hands.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you."
"I said: Harry, could you please give me some space?" she blurted out furiously into the ground without looking at him.
Harry nodded and left the bathroom, and made sure to close the door behind him, worried sick that maybe Ron was right and Hermione had lost her mind. He hoped it wasn't like that, and that at worst, she was having a mental breakdown.
The wedding plans were made up fairly quickly; Harry and Hermione agreed on the food, type of cake, where on the beach the ceremony should take place and where a party tent would be put up, amongst a few other things.
They went to bed immediately afterwards, tired and at the same time very anxious for the coming day.
Everyone wished each other good night and retreated into their respective bedrooms, and with so few bedrooms, Harry and Hermione shared room with Ron, Ginny and Luna.
Harry and Hermione crawled down into bed, Harry not feeling entirely comfortable sleeping in the same room as Ginny and Luna – but what other choice was there?
Harry looked up in the dark, only seeing the contours of Ron sitting in his bed. Ginny was not recognizable, only a slender lump covered in blankets. He didn't even see where Luna was, but presumably somewhere as she had walked into the room with them.
He rested his head on the pillow he shared with Hermione and snuggled up to her. The tips of their noses touched; eyes locked. Their breaths mingled together, something unsaid lingered in the air.
Harry realized he was no longer looking at the girl he had fallen in love with, but instead a grown, beautiful woman. And tomorrow at this time they would be husband and wife.
Maybe it was a bit early, maybe they ought to wait at least a few more years but both of them had already made their minds up.
Harry moved his arms under the blankets and put his hand on her face cheek. "I love you so much", he whispered, to not bother the others.
Hermione looked at him in the dark, eyes half closed, separated her lips and gave him a broad smile. "I love you too."
His heart fluttered, palms were beginning to sweat and his mouth was dry. His breath felt heavier, an urge like no other – it was crippling him. She seemed to think the same, as her hands slid under his shirt, stroking across his chest, giving his hand the go-ahead to search itself under her pajamas, his fingers touching the soft skin of her belly.
"I need to ask you something", Hermione said.
"Oh yeah?" he grinned, letting his finger travel a bit higher up and was about to make a move to kiss her lips, but she pulled away her head. He frowned, wondering what he had done wrong. Their bodies were so pressed against each other that he felt her heart beating, faster and faster.
For a moment she looked at him, then shook her head and her eyes glazed over. "Forget it."
"No come on, what is it?" pressed Harry.
Hermione sighed and took a deep breath. "I've been acting like an idiot towards you and I need to know—"
She swallowed, bit her lip and didn't finish her sentence, her eyes diverting away from his face and glued to his chest instead.
"Come on, Hermione. It would be crazy to not act a bit crazy after the last few days. Besides, you've always been a bit mental. But that's what I love about you, you're honest – maybe too honest sometimes."
Hermione gave a distraught chuckle. "Maybe."
"Anyway, you know you can ask me anything. So, what is on your mind?" Harry said. A few rogue hair strands were hanging down over the side of her face. He used his free hand to lovingly tuck them behind her ear.
"Fine. I thought of mrs Weasley's offhand comments about me being with child. Be honest, could you ever see yourself have one with me?"
Her eyes looked back at him, questioning him, wanting him so badly to say yes.
He wanted to, but having children would cause complications. What if they inherited his powers? What then? Would they too risk their lives and potentially die a gruesome death if they weren't as lucky as he was to still be alive?
"Of course would I want that, Hermione. It's not that I don't want to—"
"But you're afraid there will be little Spider-Men running around?"
"Please don't say it like that", groaned Harry, and Hermione stifled her laughter.
Their eyes locked for what seemed forever, their breaths getting heavier by the second.
He placed one of his hands at the base of her head, holding her tightly as he kissed her.
He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over their heads, hoping no one would be awake enough to notice them, and continued kissing her as she giggled from the corner of her mouth – Hermione, giggling – and used both of her hands to push off the remainder of their clothes.
Letting their hands excitedly wander all over each other, the lower parts of their bodies touched, Hermione gasped as they merged together and became one, stirring being.
"Aren't you afraid we'll wake them up?" Harry questioned her.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"That's the idea – don't spoil it, mr Potter", she breathed frustratingly through her restrained groans.
Her controlling demeanor made his body tingle in an odd way. "Is that an order, mrs Potter?"
"Undoubtedly."
They spent a blissful moment together under the blanket, skin against skin, lips against lips, keeping as quiet as they could and not making too much noise or movement. After it was over, they looked at each other for a long while. Hermione's eyes told him much more than her words possibly could. He saw her happiness, her fears, her love and all the knowledge residing in her mind.
She seemed to be glowing with confidence as her hand steadily removed his glasses, and then slowly letting her lips again met his.
Soon enough they crawled out under the blanket and sleepily discussed in whispers about what they expected of the events of tomorrow and the rest of their marriage, their dreams about their future home and lives.
Harry started feeling extremely sleepy, and with his head on Hermione's shoulder and his hand firmly grasping hers, he drifted off into a pleasant sleep.
A.N: I had to split up a giant chapter into two different chapters because of all the ideas I've been juggling around.
There's an entire cut paragraph focused on Harry and Hermione fighting and not getting along, but it really didn't sit well with me and the cause was too childish (hint, it involved Harry getting angry at Hermione in bed and deciding to run away).