Chapter 10

Hermione felt true happiness for two of her best friends on their wedding day. She watched in love and admiration as they shared their vows with one-another, placed rings on each other's fingers, and kissed chastely, at the appropriate moment. There were whoops and hollers as Harry and Ginny glided down the altar and through the throngs of joyous family and friends. Hermione and Ron smiled as they looped arms again and made their way down the path towards the reception tent.

Ron's grip on her arm was tight. She could feel his concern and knew that what she had said affected him. Even this vague and scripted walk through the onlookers built another layer of confidence in her that she made the right decision; that trusting Ron was the right decision.

She was sure Ron wanted to pull her away to talk, but she urged him towards the flowery wall of Bluebells where the family was taking post-wedding pictures. Ron gave her a frustrated sigh, but followed her lead.

After thirty minutes of mix-n-match pictures with various family members, friends, and a few key dignitaries that wouldn't take no for an answer, everyone corralled into the large reception area. The space was lavish with sparkling chandeliers and gold encrusted centerpieces spiraling high on each of the tables connected snugly around the dancefloor.

It was clear to Hermione that the entire wizarding world planned to dance and drink until their heart's content tonight. It felt as if this was the first true celebration of Voldemort's downfall, one where they could actually celebrate rather than mourn. Hermione wished that she could have let go like the rest of them. Wished that she could have let go with Ron. Somehow something always managed to get in their way. Maybe he was right. Maybe they weren't meant to be together. Even the thought felt wrong in Hermione's thoughts, but she pushed it out of the way as it was time for the first dance.

Mrs. Weasley had told her, in a passive aggressive tone, that after Ginny and Harry had danced for a bit, all of the bridal party and family members of the bride and groom were to get up and finish the dance with them. Hermione knew this to be the time she'd be able to finish her conversation with Ron, even just for a moment, without it being suspicious that she was with him.

She knew deeply that whoever this person was, they were probably here, probably watching. She knew that her love for Ron showed on her face so clearly that this stalker would want extra assurances from her that she did not have feelings for him. Luckily, she had spent the last few days pulling together a plan, one that she could disseminate in the last moments of a song.

Hermione watched on from the side as Ginny and Harry danced together. Harry still had two left feet, but Ginny was rather graceful and guided him with her. Neither seemed to notice or care as they whispered and chuckled to one another.

Mrs. Weasley caught her eye as she clucked to family and friends in the bridal party to join in. It was time. She had already managed to inch her way back toward Ron, as he was doing to her. By the time Mrs. Weasley gave her the look, they were already mere feet apart and Ron walked swiftly to her, grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the center of the floor.

She absorbed every ounce of love from his hand and appreciated that he pulled them as far away from onlookers as they could be, short of being heard by family twirling and swaying together.

Ron turned and pulled her to him, and she effortlessly placed her arms around his neck. While she tried to keep a bit of space, she couldn't help but let her heart wrap itself around this moment. She felt him slide his hand around the base of her back, pressing into her satin dress slightly.

He didn't say anything, just looked down at her with a mix of concern and longing. They danced without saying anything. Hermione had kept her purse around her wrist, just in case she needed to leave at a moment's notice. She also had a plan and now was the time to implement it.

"Hermione." Ron breathed. "What's going on?" He tried to look nonchalant as he glanced around the room.

Hermione's voice caught in her throat. "I'm being watched, Ron. Stalked, I think."

She felt Ron's hands tighten around her waist as he continued to glide past family and friends.

"I have a plan." She said between tight lips. "In your pocket. Later." She added.

While they had been in the pre-ceremony tent with the family, before they had walked out, she had managed to slide her only form of safe communication with Ron into his pocket. It was the only way she could get it to him without prying eyes.

"Who?" He growled to her, still feigning a smile.

Hermione looked up at him with a pained expression. "I don't know."

She could see Ron's eyes flitting across the room. He was surveying everyone and then glancing back at her.

They were silent through the remainder of the song enjoying every moment together. Finally the melody waned and clapping interrupted their thoughts. Upbeat music began to take its place and dozens of couples and individuals began filling the dancefloor with joy and glee.

Ron waved off a passing waiter holding a platter of glasses of wine. He tried to drag Hermione toward the exit of the tent, but before he could, clanging glasses began as speeches were expected. Of course Hermione and Ron would speak, as best friends of the couple, and members of the Golden Trio, it was important. He looked over at Hermione who pulled out a couple pages of parchment.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. She knew what he was thinking. Of course, in the midst of a stalker she would make time to write out a perfectly heart-felt and meaningful wedding toast to Harry and Ginny. Hermione chuckled at the thought that he was not wrong. There was no way that her private situation would impede on one of the most special days of Harry's life.

Hermione, while quite pleased with her own speech, was also impressed with Ron. He didn't have parchment like she did, but despite the distracted situation and a few glances in her direction, his speech was loving and special, with a few humorous stories strategically infused, lighting up the room with joy and 'here, here's'.

The evening had continued with food, fun and laughter, though it was a constant battle for Ron to make his way to her. He had been bombarded by many of his colleagues, friends and admirers. He had made even more of a name for himself than during his time as part of the Golden Trio. Hermione's experience was similar, but she avoided the spotlight more.

Eventually, after a few hours of touch and gos with the press, the family, dignitaries and dinner, Ron managed to pull Hermione out the reception area. It had been a long day and despite Hermione's protests, she couldn't help but be led by him through the darkness of night to the altar where Ginny and Harry had said 'I do.'

They sat down, Hermione looked around cautiously, and Ron cast a Muffliato Spell to keep their conversations quiet.

"This is reckless." Hermione said to him, pretending to feign nonchalance.

"I can't help you if I don't know what's going on." Ron said.

"I know." She tried to get out. "I just can't let anything happen to you."

"And you don't think I feel the same way?" Ron's annoyance was clear.

Hermione watched as Ron put his hand in his pocket.

"Don't take it out." Hermione said quietly. She could tell recognition reflected on Ron's features.

"A Galleon?" Ron asked, as she was sure he was flipping around in his fingers.

"A Dumbledore's Army Galleon." She clarified.

Comprehension quickly swept across his features. "If I need you." Hermione added.

"Do you have any leads?" He asked, trying to mask the words. Despite the spell, both Ron and Hermione felt somewhat vulnerable out in the open night. Hermione was sure he was watching, even in this secure space, she knew he was close.

"Too many, and not enough." She sighed. "I thought maybe Savoy...I was wrong. I've been working on a suspect list...in my tent." She barely lifted the bag.

"Don't tell me…" Ron started. "You haven't been sleeping in a tent again, have you?"

Hermione glared at him then looked forward again.

"I wish you would have come to me sooner...I could have helped." Ron said softly.

"Or died." Hermione added, forcing herself not to look at him.

"Well, here's what we're going to do." Ron said, giving her a look that told her she didn't have a say in the matter. "We're going to make this a fun and fantastic evening for Ginny and Harry, and tonight, after the reception, you are going to apparate to my flat and we are going to figure this out."

Hermione didn't say anything, weighing the heavy risk in her mind. All she wanted was for him to help her, to protect her, but it was also her responsibility to protect him too. If they made a mistake, if they were caught, even now, and this stalker figured out the plan, Ron would be dead too, and it would be because of her selfishness.

After another moment, weighing the options, she made up her mind. As long as it was done safely.

"Okay, midnight, and no more time together tonight." She said, then abruptly got up, nodded to him and walked back toward the humming noises of the reception tent down the way.

She could feel Ron's gaze on her as she left. Her heart beat a little faster knowing that she would be with him again tonight. Hopefully in his arms where she belonged.

The rest of the night flew by for Hermione. She made her obligatory rounds, talking with everyone she could. Made note of anyone suspicious and decided to leave early. There were a few apparition points from the Glorianna Gardens, and she chose the one furthest away from the reception so her destination would not be heard. She was going to pull out her tent and look over her suspects one more time before she and Ron were able to talk through it.

As she walked deeper into the darkness, she could hear the faint melodious tunes from the party fading in the background. Then slowly, she felt the prickling sensation of someone watching her. She wrapped her fingers tight around her wand.

She turned quickly toward rustling near the bushes of a few luminescent red and orange flowers. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she pointed her wand in its direction.

She slowly turned, realizing that maybe the more crowded apparition point, with more prying eyes, would have been safer.

That's when she heard it. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't soft either. It was the voice she dreaded. The voice that let her know she was too late.

"My dear Hermione." She heard a sickly sweet voice echo. "It is time."

Before she had a chance to point her wand, a flash of light and then sharp pain burrowed into her chest. Her body began to lose sensation. She felt her fingers release her wand. She wanted to scream, but her lips didn't move. All she could do as everything went dark, was watch the two shadowy figures descend upon her as her eyes rolled back and she was gone.