"Who hurt you?"
"What do you mean?" Hermione retaliated, flicking her hair behind her shoulder and letting her finger trace the glossy page she had been admiring.
Ginny shook her head and tutted audibly, letting herself fall back onto Hermione's bed. She landed with a dull thud and glared up at the ceiling.
"You could have any bloody dress and you want to go for the fucking maroon?" the red-haired woman asked incredulously.
"I don't want any dress. I want this one!" Hermione exclaimed, jabbing the flimsy magazine they had been flicking through.
"It's hideous!"
"It's vintage!"
"Vintage means ugly," Ginny shot back, her face slightly redder than usual.
It must have been the Firewhisky she had been drinking across the entire evening. Hermione had stayed with butterbeer and enjoyed being the only sober one of the two.
"Take the blue one!" Ginny cried, rolling onto her stomach and glaring at Hermione.
"The blue one? But it's so, revealing and I'll be even bigger in a few weeks," she replied worriedly.
"Why the fuck do you have to get married in two weeks anyway?"
"Because we love each other and there's no point in waiting," Hermione responded simply, eyeing the cornflower blue, Tea-Length dress.
It was beautiful. The material looked silky and the blue was slightly faded, giving it a worn look. It was perfect for Hermione. She felt as though she could almost feel the soft fabric through the lustrous paper. She could feel her decision wavering and finally, with a sigh, she glared at Ginny.
"Fine! I'll take the blue one," she said.
Ginny whooped loudly and jumped from the bed, tackling Hermione in a hug.
"Yes, perfect!"
"You are so unpredictable," Hermione muttered, pulling away from the slightly too aggressive cuddle.
"No, 'Mione, I'm drunk."
A short knock at the door pulled them out of their wedding frenzy.
"Hi," Harry said entering the room awkwardly.
"What's up, Haz," Ginny slurred.
Hermione whacked her friend's arm and beamed up at Harry.
"What can we do for you?" she asked sweetly.
"Remus and Sirius are cooking downstairs," he replied.
"And?" Ginny inquired.
"It's hell."
"Ah, I see," Hermione said, gesturing for him to join them on the floor.
He nodded gratefully and let himself be enveloped by the blanket they were sharing.
"What are they making?" she asked sympathetically.
"Lasagne."
Hermione had witnessed more than enough cooking sessions with Remus and Sirius and she understood entirely why Harry had left. Both of the men were complete alphas when it came to cooking and refused to back down. The end product usually was an inedible mess of ingredients, which was then tossed into a pot and burnt to a crisp.
"What are you looking at?" Harry asked, pointing at the crinkled magazine.
"Dresses." the two women replied in unison.
"Oh," he replied, immediately losing interest.
"Is Harry going to be a bridesmaid?" Ginny asked, rolling onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling
"I haven't asked him," Hermione replied honestly, turning to Harry.
"Well, I wouldn't say no..." he said jokingly, adjusting his glasses.
"Then it is decided."
They lay there in amicable silence until their thoughts were interrupted by a deafening thwack against the window.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" Ginny shrieked, jumping up from the floor and rushing towards the curtains.
"No idea," Harry murmured, rolling onto his side, and rubbing his hands over his face, implying that he didn't really care.
It took a lot more to unsettle Harry.
"Can you see what it was?" Hermione asked, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and craning her neck to get a better look at the Window.
"I think it was an owl," Ginny murmured, opening the window a crack and peering out.
"You think?"
"Definitely an owl," she confirmed.
Harry pushed himself up from the wooden floorboards and said, "let's take a look then."
Hermione sighed and followed her two friends downstairs.
"What does it say?" Ginny whined impatiently, prodding Harry's shoulder as he took the sealed letter from the feeble animal.
The owl wasn't terribly wounded, just a little shaken and Hermione was trying to stroke some life back into it.
"Wait," he muttered, his glasses slowly slipping from his nose.
"Give it!" a slightly tipsy Ginny snapped, ripping the letter from him.
Hermione rolled her eyes, waiting patiently for her friend to convey the news. It was probably going to be a letter from Mrs Weasley inviting them to tea. She had been trying to get her and Remus in the same room to question them about their relationship. Hermione really couldn't be bothered to be interrogated by the Weasley matriarch. Or, maybe it would be a letter from Neville asking to meet up. She wouldn't mind that. Neville was a good friend and she'd enjoy grabbing a meal with him. She was pulled out of her thoughts by a horrific sound which came from Ginny's mouth. Her hands were clamped over her mouth and her eyes were wide with shock.
"What?" Harry inquired, ripping the letter from her, and let his eyes scan its contents.
Hermione watched how his shoulders slumped and defeat sparked in his eyes. He shook his head wearily and handed the letter to her. She already knew what had happened before she had finished reading the letter.
"Merlin, help us all," she breathed.