Harry and Ginny's Wedding
The day of Harry and Ginny's wedding, Viktor was playing in the European Cup playoffs with Puddlemere United. Hermione planned to join him in France the next day. The wedding was in the evening as was the tradition in the wizarding world. She spent the better part of the day sitting on the sofa staring at a heatless fire and thinking. She had submitted paperwork the previous day to start the first phase of experimentation in her Apparition study, so she had the next month off, free to attend the wedding and then join Viktor in France. After the European Cup was over, they were supposed to join Todor and Pietra in Cannes. She knew she needed the break. She was exhausted both physically and mentally.
As she stared at the flames, she couldn't help thinking about how the evening was going to go. With the exception of talking to Harry briefly in her house after the party, she hadn't spoken to any of them for months. She didn't know how to break the ice, especially with Ron. She wondered if he would be drinking. Since it was a wedding, chances were that he would be. The last time she'd seen him, he'd not only been drunk, he'd been furious and openly hostile. She hated to think what would have happened if she hadn't Disapparated before he'd reached her and Viktor. She decided if he was drinking at the wedding, she would get through the ceremony and then leave early. She didn't want a scene in front of his family. If he came at her, she didn't trust herself to hold her tongue about why she left, and she didn't want them to know what he'd done. She'd never wanted to drive a wedge between Ron and his family or between him and Harry. He needed them. Without their help he would never be able to pull himself together. He'd sacrificed himself more than once for her and the last time had nearly killed him, so she had sacrificed herself for him when she left. It was clear she couldn't help him. She'd given up everything so he might have a chance to heal. She really hoped he'd gotten help. She couldn't bear the thought of him drunk and destroying himself. Without her there, surely the others had seen how out of control he was and had done something.
Hermione had been thinking for weeks about what she wanted to say in the speech she was to give as maid of honor. It was agonizing to imagine standing in front of everyone given some of the things that had been printed about her lately. She wondered what the family must think of her. The gossip columnists had tried to get them to comment on her break up with Ron, but no one said anything beyond, 'things change' or 'they have to live their own lives.' Of course, she wanted to tell everyone why she left. She wanted them to comfort her and fix him, but no matter how many times she'd thought to tell Harry and Ginny or Molly and Arthur, she could never quite manage to say the words. It felt too much like betrayal and she knew her own behavior hadn't helped. The whole thing had been so humiliating. Now with the distance of half a year, she wished she'd handled it differently. She should have thrown him off the first time he'd gotten too rough. She should have put her foot down about the drinking, and she should have said something to his parents as soon as it seemed like a problem. But she hadn't and now so much had happened it didn't seem like she'd ever get back to anything even remotely resembling her old life, but she missed her friends. Viktor was sweet and fun and good company when he was around, but he was gone a lot, and it would be nice if she could go out with other people when he was away, so she didn't have to be alone so much. She wondered if perhaps today she could start reestablishing some of her friendships. After all, Ginny still wanted her as maid of honor, so she must not completely hate her.
Hermione arrived an hour before the ceremony to help Ginny get ready, not that Ginny needed any help or ever did much in terms of getting ready. Ginny was one of those women who seemed to roll out of bed gorgeous, but she'd asked Hermione to come early, so she Apparated into the back garden and walked up the familiar path. Everything had been spruced up for the big event even though it was clear from all the noise that the wedding would be in the front garden. She could see part of the massive tent behind the house.
She knocked on the door, but no one answered, so she let herself in. The kitchen was the same although immaculately tidy, which was different. She ran her fingers along the wooden table where she'd shared so many meals with Ron's family.
"Hermione?"
She looked up to see Molly enter the kitchen.
"It's so good to see you," Molly said.
Hermione forced a smile. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley."
The older woman gave her a sad smile. "There's no need to go back to formal titles, dear."
Hermione bowed her head. "I'm sorry Molly." And she meant it. She was sorry. Sorry for everything.
Molly eyed her so intently, Hermione began to worry about whether or not she knew Legilimency. She struggled to school her thoughts, but she'd never been very good with Occlumency especially around people she knew.
Finally, Molly spoke, "I don't know what happened between you and Ron, because neither one of you has said so much as a peep about it, but I know this: you didn't just walk away for no reason, you couldn't have, so you won't be condemned for it under this roof. Do you understand?"
Tears came unbidden as Hermione nodded.
Molly gave her a sympathetic smile. "This must be very difficult for you."
Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione nodded again.
Molly put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, dear. We're all glad you came. Most of the family are out front with Harry, but Luna and Ginny are up in Ginny's room. Head up when you're ready."
Hermione nodded again and choked out, "Thank you." She stopped in the powder room to disguise the fact she'd been crying before going up to Ginny's room. She took the crooked stairs she'd traveled so many times over the years. She blew out a slow breath and pressed a hand to her stomach to calm herself before lightly knocking on the door.
"Come in," Ginny called and Hermione opened the door. Ginny and Luna were sitting on her bed looking at a photo album. "Hermione!" Ginny said, and stood to hug her.
Hermione hugged her back and then hugged Luna. Ginny and Luna were both wearing dressing gowns. "You're going for a casual wedding then?" Hermione asked. "Am I over-dressed?"
The other two chuckled. "No, but it's too early to put on all that. You look nice though."
"Thanks," Hermione said, running her hand over the v-neck, crepe dress in a green so deep it was almost black.
"How are you feeling?" Luna asked her.
"Oh, fine," Hermione said. "Much better."
"Neville said you'd been cursed with Tentaculus," Ginny said, her brow wrinkling with concern. "Harry said it looked bad. How did that happen?"
"I'd rather not get into it. It's your special day. Let's not talk about curses."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "Okay. Well, as long as you're feeling better, that's all that matters."
"I do," Hermione said heartily. "Completely cured. Can I get you two anything?"
"Actually, I'd love a pumpkin juice," Ginny said. "I'd get it myself, but I suppose there are too many people milling about now for the bride to make an appearance."
"I'm okay," Luna said.
"Great," Hermione said. "I'll be right back." She slipped out of the room and hurried downstairs. It hadn't occurred to her that anyone would ask about the Tentaculus, which was stupid. Of course, they were going to ask. She needed to come up with a reasonable response. As she was walking to the icebox, she saw Ron standing in the back garden. Her breath caught. He looked fantastic. He had a neatly trimmed beard now that covered the deep scar on his jaw and, while still too thin, he was strikingly handsome in his dress robes. She closed her eyes for a moment and then squared her shoulders and marched forward. Everyone had been nice, but if she really wanted her friends back, she needed to normalize things with Ron. If she could do that, everything else would fall into place.
"Ron," she said. "It's so good to see you."
"Yeah," he said. "You too." He looked around. "So, where's Krum gotten himself off to?"
"I didn't bring him," she said, startled that as a Quidditch fan Ron wouldn't know where Viktor was. "Puddlemere United is in the European Cup. He's playing tonight. Actually, I was hoping you and I could—"
A woman appeared from behind her, perhaps she'd been in the powder room, but now she bounced to Ron's side and smiled at Hermione. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand. She was stunning. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Ron. She had legs that seemed to go on forever and they were on display in a full length fitted dress with slits up both sides of the skirt. Her hair was straight, black, and shiny and hung to the middle of her back. Her eyes were the same piercing blue that Ron's were and the same color as her dress. The word's 'Amazonian beauty' came to mind. Hermione, feeling short, haggard, and plain, shook her hand.
"Hermione, this is Willa Vance. Willa, Hermione Granger."
"Ooh," Willa said. "Hermione Granger, wow. I mean, I guess I knew you'd probably be here, but…wow."
Hermione glanced at Ron. She couldn't tell if this woman was for real or if she was being mocked in some way.
"Is Viktor Krum here too?" Willa asked in an awed whisper.
"No," Hermione said, stunned that anyone thought he would be. Apparently, no one followed Quidditch anymore.
Ron's cheeks went crimson. "Well, we should find Mum and Dad," he said to Willa. "You haven't met them yet."
Willa's eyes went wide with obvious excitement. "Right," she said with a little squeal and took his arm.
Hermione gave them a tight smile before they hurried away. She went back inside and got three bottles of pumpkin juice from the icebox, forgetting that Luna didn't want one. When she stepped back into Ginny's room, Ginny said, "Luna's gone to the loo. Is it a madhouse downstairs yet?"
"Not in the back, but it does sound like more people are out front."
"Three hundred people are going to be here."
"Seriously?" Hermione said.
"Harry Potter is getting married," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "The Ministry people begged us not to have a small affair. And I mean that, they actually begged. Turns out it was really hard to narrow it down to just three hundred. The first list was over five hundred."
"Oh, good grief," Hermione said grimly, handing Ginny a bottle of juice. The night was shaping up worse and worse.
"So, listen," Ginny said. "About that curse."
Hermione shook her head. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Luna, but it was an incident at work. I can't really talk about it." It was amazing how easily the lie slipped from her lips. It was convenient to have a top-secret job at times.
"Oh," Ginny said. "So I guess you made it through the trials. You're an Unspeakable."
"Yes."
"Good for you."
"Thanks," Hermione said, feeling her cheeks go pink."
"Not cool about the curse though."
"Definitely not," Hermione said. "But it's not like it'll happen again."
"Good," Ginny said.
Luna came back in. Hermione pointed to the extra bottle of juice. "I brought you one too."
"Thanks," she turned to Ginny. "We should probably get dressed." She turned back to Hermione. "You look tired. Are you not sleeping?"
"Stop looking past the charms, Luna," Hermione said, irritated.
"Sorry," Luna said.
Hermione sighed. "It's okay. I've just had a lot going on, but I'm about to spend a few weeks in France, so I'll be getting plenty of rest soon enough."
"Oh really?" Ginny said. "Harry and I are doing the grand tour for the rest of the summer. We'll be spending some time in France as well."
They chatted about the best places to go in Europe while Ginny and Luna got dressed. When they were done, Hermione couldn't help smiling. Ginny was stunning in her wedding dress, which was plain white silk in front but had a opal on white embroidered unicorn on the back that ran the full length of the dress.
"Wow," Hermione said. "You look amazing."
Ginny grinned at her. "Thanks." She looked at Luna, who was beautiful in her own right in a sky blue, silk sheath dress. "Do you mind checking if they're ready for us."
"Not at all," Luna said and stepped out of the room.
"Listen, Hermione," Ginny said. "Ron said he was bringing—"
"I've already met her."
"Really? When?" Ginny asked.
"When I went to get the juice."
"So, he actually brought her?" Ginny was clearly disappointed. "I kind of thought she might be a figment of his imagination."
"No, she's very real," Hermione said with a weak smile.
"What's she like?" Ginny asked.
"Gorgeous. Your kind of gorgeous only taller and more buxom with black hair. Stunning really." Hermione said tightly.
"Oh," Ginny said. "I—"
Hermione held up a hand. "Don't. It's fine. We've both moved on."
"Right," Ginny said quietly.
Luna opened the door and stuck her head in. "They're ready."
xXx
The ceremony was beautiful. Harry and Ginny said their vows under an arch of roses with Hermione and Luna on one side and Ron and Neville on the other. When they were pronounced husband and wife, fairies flew into the tent swirling around the arches in the fabric and then back out into the night to settle like twinkling lights in the shrubs that surrounded the tent. Dinner was served and Hermione was seated across from Willa and Ron. She noted that Ron had turned the two wine glasses in front of his plate upside down and was only drinking from the water goblet. That was heartening. She hoped it meant he'd stopped drinking or at least cut way back. Still it was difficult to eat with Willa constantly cooing over Ron. She was as fawning as Lavender had been, only it was made worse by her stunning good looks and vapid conversation. Lavender may not have been a genius, but she wasn't stupid. She was bright enough to stay in school past her O.W.L.S. and she'd managed five of those, not two, which is all Willa had squeaked out before she'd left school entirely, which she didn't mind telling anyone who was listening. She chatted incessantly about Quidditch. She kept asking Hermione questions about Viktor, which made both Ron and Hermione incredibly uncomfortable, but Willa didn't seem to notice.
"So how does he like his broom trimmed?" Willa asked in a conspiratorial tone.
Hermione arched an eyebrow at Ron. Once again, she couldn't tell if this witch was being serious, or if she was making a crude double entendre. Ron's cheeks were so red they looked in danger of catching fire. He glanced away from Hermione and pretended to inspect a dinner roll. Irritated, Hermione said, "I wouldn't know."
"No?" Willa said, clearly surprised. "Why not? Don't you help him with broom maintenance?"
Hermione cocked her head. "No. Why would I do that?"
George was seated on one side of Hermione and Fred was on the other. They were both grinning like fools delighted at the whole conversation.
"Well, if I was dating a Quidditch player, I'd help him. I'd wax his handle and I'd—"
"Does she wax your handle, Ron?" Fred asked straight faced.
Angelina, who was seated on his other side, swatted his arm.
But Willa answered innocently, "Of course I do. I work at Quality Quidditch Supply. We have excellent maintenance kits. I made sure Ron had our best one."
"I bet you did," George sputtered.
Ron gritted his teeth and Hermione noticed the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
"You should bring Viktor to the shop," Willa said to Hermione. "I could get you two a really good discount. What do you fly?"
"Fly?" Hermione said.
"Yes, what sort of broom to you have?" Willa asked patiently, as if perhaps Hermione wasn't too bright.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't. If I'm on a broom, then Viktor is flying it, and he has several brooms of different sorts."
Ron looked at her and scowled briefly when she mentioned flying with Viktor.
"You don't have a broom of your own?" Willa asked, clearly appalled. "Well, you should definitely come in. A witch needs her own broom." She looked at Angelina. "Am I right?"
"Well, I have my own," Angelina said awkwardly.
"See," Willa said to Hermione. "You've got to come in."
"I'm not much of a flyer," Hermione said dryly.
"But—"
Ron grabbed Willa's hand. "Willa! She doesn't like to fly."
"But that's crazy," Willa said quietly.
Ron sighed. "Yeah, well, be that as it may, she's not going to come into the shop."
"Oh, I might," Hermione said, irritated that Ron felt the need to speak for her. "It might be a good place for gifts come birthdays and Christmas."
"That would be great," Willa said. "Can you imagine if I sold something that Viktor Krum used?" She squeezed Ron's hand with the excitement of the thought.
"Yeah, that'd be great," Ron grumbled.
Willa took a bite of her steak and there was a moment of blissful silence. It didn't last. She looked at Hermione with confusion registering on her face. "So, if you don't fly or play Quidditch, what do you and Viktor Krum do together?"
Hermione felt her cheeks go hot. Fred nudged her. "Yeah, Hermione, what do you and old Vik get up to?" On the other side of her George arched an expectant eyebrow.
Ron looked fit to be tied as he glared at Willa who was oblivious to both the implications of her question and Ron's ire.
Hermione's mouth dropped open, but she was saved from having to make any kind of response by the tinkling of a fork against glass as Arthur rose to give his speech. Molly was next, followed by Ron, who gave the best man's speech. Hermione couldn't bear to listen to what Ron had to say, and since Willa sat in rapt attention, Hermione took the opportunity to try and choke down some of her dinner. When Ron finished speaking, it was her turn. During everyone else's speeches there could be heard the subtle murmuring and clink of silverware and dishes that are naturally part of a crowd of three hundred people even when they're being quiet, but as Hermione took the podium a hush fell over the room. She swallowed hard. All of these people had read the article in Witch Weekly that had painted her as some sort of camp follower rather than an essential part of the destruction of Voldemort. She touched her wand to her neck and her voice rang clear through the tent even though she spoke quietly.
"Good evening," she said. "I've known Harry since I was eleven-years-old and Ginny since I was twelve. I can't imagine two people more suited to each other or more deserving of happiness. During the war there were so many times when even imagining a day like today was impossible. I'm so happy we're all here to enjoy it." She held up her glass to Harry and Ginny. "I wish you both all the best. And here's to this being just one in a lifetime full of wonderful days together."
She took her seat and the murmuring started up again. She had the last speech, so the dinner plates disappeared in preparation for dessert. There was a call from the other end of the table and Hermione felt little hands on her arm as Teddy pulled himself into her lap. She caught him to keep him from sliding off and he rested his head against her breast, his hair immediately going ginger. She blinked back the tears that formed. Holding him was painful so soon after losing her own baby. Tonks hurried up.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Tonks said. "I can't turn my back for one second without him running off."
"Oh, it's okay," Hermione said, as Tonks lifted Teddy off her lap. As she did so, his hair went blue again.
A stray tear slipped down Hermione's cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, only to realize Ron had seen it. The pained expression on his face left her gutted. "Excuse me." She stood hurried away from the table. She went in the direction of the portable lavatory that had been set up for the guests but walked past it and behind the house into the back garden. Her dress had a magical pocket with an extension charm. She pulled out her cigarettes and snapped her fingers to light one as she paced in the garden trying to decide if she could make it through the rest of the evening. She was surprised a few moments later to be joined by Angelina.
"Are you doing okay?" she asked as she walked up holding two glasses of white wine.
Hermione nodded her head and took another long drag on the cigarette. "Sure. I just needed a quick fag before dessert."
Angelina arched an eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"
"Oh, off and on for ages," Hermione said. It wasn't entirely untrue although it had mostly been off until recently.
"Uh huh," Angelina said knowingly and handed her one of the glasses of wine. "For what it's worth, that woman Ron brought is unbearably beautiful and insufferably dim, and you're handling it a lot better than I would."
Hermione gave her a slight smile. "Thanks."
"I'm sure it would be better if Krum were here," Angelina added.
"I don't know about that," Hermione said. "She wouldn't shut up about him at dinner. Imagine how much worse it would've been if he'd actually been here."
"I guess that's true," Angelina said. "What is wrong with her? Who talks about how great their boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend is?"
Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "That's bollocks, right?"
"I mean, seriously, could she really be that thick?"
Hermione chuckled.
Angelina smiled. "I guess we should get back. Dessert is probably on the table."
Hermione nodded, finished her wine, and stubbed out the last bit of her cigarette and made the butt disappear. "Right," she said. "Once more unto the breach."
Angelina nodded and they walked back to the tent and took their seats.
xXx
Hermione was pretty sure Ron had said something to Willa while she was gone, because Willa didn't mention Viktor anymore, and had the hurt expression of a scolded puppy. Either way, Hermione was grateful for the small favor and enjoyed her dessert which consisted of a small fruit tart (Harry's favorite) next to a small chocolate éclair (Ginny's favorite) and a nice glass of champagne. She noted that Ron didn't drink the champagne, but instead slid it over to Willa. She seemed pleased by this and the hurt expression disappeared.
After dessert, everyone stood and stepped to the edges of the tent. The tables sank into the ground and their tops expanded to form a dance floor. A stringed quartet began playing a waltz and Harry and Ginny took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Hermione knew Harry must be very nervous to dance in front of everyone. He started out fairly stiff, but after a few moments, he relaxed and settled smoothly into the dance. After the first song, other couples began joining them on the dance floor. A tray floated by with several glasses of wine on it. Hermione took one and watched the couples twirling to the music. She wished Viktor were there. She liked to dance and Viktor was a very good dancer. She was surprised to see Ron lead Willa on to the dance floor. Ron had never been much of a dancer and had never shown any interest in learning, but it was clear he'd taken lessons at some point in the last few months, because he seemed quite comfortable leading Willa through several ballroom dances. Watching them left her with a hollow feeling inside, which she did her best to fill with wine every time a tray floated by.
George appeared at her side. "Granger," he said. "I hear you cut a mean rug."
She arched an eyebrow at him.
He smiled at her. "Me too." He held out his hand. "Join me."
Why not? she thought. It had to be better than watching Ron twirl around with his Amazonian goddess.
George was a fantastic dancer. He knew all the ballroom dances and kept her on her toes for the next hour. Finally, she begged off to catch her breath and use the loo. On her way back, she ran in to Harry, who said, "You haven't danced with the groom yet," and held out his hand.
She took it and he led her out on to the dance floor. It was a Viennese waltz and Harry surprised her by sliding right into it. She wished it hadn't been such a romantic piece. There were so many cameras about and she was still very sensitive about the article. Harry didn't seem to care. As they danced, he said, "How's your evening going?"
"Fine," she said tightly.
"That bad, huh?"
"It's not bad. It's fine," she said without looking at him.
"Have you noticed Ron isn't drinking?" Harry asked.
"I did notice. I think that's good. Maybe we can avoid any more interviews."
Harry sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I knew he was trashed that night. I should have seen him home."
Hermione shook her head. "It's hardly your fault. You're not his keeper."
"Well, if it's any consolation, the entire family gave him what for about it."
"It's really not," she said grimly.
"I know," he said. "It was awful when I had to tell Ginny the truth," he said as they performed the classic lift.
When she came down Hermione was completely aghast. "You did what?" she hissed.
"I told her the truth," Harry said. "I had to."
"Why?" Hermione cried, struggling to keep her voice low.
"Because she asked me point blank. I wasn't going to lie to her."
Hermione was grateful that she'd been sent to dance lessons and cotillion after cotillion as a child, otherwise she would have tripped all over herself with the shock of Harry's confession. "And you didn't think to mention this until now?" she finally said.
"I haven't seen you, except for the other night and that didn't seem like a good time to bring it up. I certainly wasn't going to tell you in a letter."
"Of course not. How did she take it?"
"Well, actually. I think she'd suspected as much about you and me for a long time. She was a bit surprised about Ron, but she understood that it wasn't like what was implied by the article. She understood that it was an isolated incident precipitated by the Poacher's Curse." He blithely spun her around. When she faced him again, he said, "She asked for the whole truth and I told her and now it's fine."
Hermione felt so ashamed. She shook her head and looked away. "I can't…she seemed okay when I saw her earlier, but—"
"She is okay. I told you, she understands: Poacher's Curse, pressure cooker, teenage hormones. It happened. It's not like any of us have any interest in it happening again. Actually, her primary concern was with whether or not that was what wrecked you and Ron."
Hermione looked at him. "It wasn't."
"I told her I didn't think it was."
The song ended and Harry let her go. Hermione couldn't get away from him fast enough. She grabbed a glass of wine off a floating tray and stepped out of the tent for some fresh air. She needed to go home. She lit a cigarette and tried to calm down. She didn't know how she was supposed to face Ginny. As if she knew what Hermione was thinking, Ginny came to stand beside her.
"Hey," Ginny said.
"Hi," Hermione said without looking at her.
"Harry told me he told you," Ginny said. "On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out are you?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Hermione asked.
"I'm alright. I've suspected for a while. When the article came out, it just gave me a reason to ask."
Hermione glanced at her.
"It was obvious something changed while you were looking for the Horcruxes. Harry stopped looking at you?"
"Because he only has eyes for you" Hermione said.
"But he doesn't do that with other women, which got me thinking when that started, because he wasn't always like that around you."
Hermione felt hot; a wave of nausea washed over her.
"It was after the hunt for the Horcruxes that he stopped looking at you. And then Ron gave that stupid interview and Harry was so angry about the things Rita implied about you three. He was really furious, but it was like he was angrier at Ron than he was at Rita, which isn't like him at all. And then he stopped looking at Ron, so I had to ask."
Hermione felt sick. "What do you want me to say, Ginny?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Nothing," Ginny said. "It had nothing to do with me and it's not like it'll happen again."
"Of course not," Hermione said. "It's not like it was consensual. We were cursed."
"I know," Ginny said. "The Poacher's Curse, nasty business that one."
"You've no idea," Hermione said quietly. The ghosts of that night still haunted her.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said. "Is that what did it?"
"Did what?"
"Is that what broke up you and Ron? Harry says no, but it stands to reason..."
Hermione shook her head. "No. I mean, I'm sure it didn't help, but it was a lot of things."
"Mmm," Ginny said, noncommittally. "But you and I, we're okay, right?"
"Right." But Hermione didn't feel okay.
"And you're happy with Krum?"
"Viktor is a good man."
"Harry said Viktor was pretty upset the other night when he went to check on you."
Hermione shook her head. "That was my fault. I should have told him Harry had direct Apparition privileges into the house."
"I can see how that would upset him."
"Right?" Hermione said. "And Harry's too familiar with me. He barged in and started looking me over like we were in the middle of a battle. It's like he forgets our lives are different now."
"He feels responsible for you and Ron," Ginny said gently.
"There is no me and Ron anymore, and even if there were, Harry's not responsible for us."
Ginny made another non-committal noise. "Good luck with that."
Hermione sighed.
"I should probably get back to the party," Ginny said. "What with being the bride and all."
Hermione chuckled softly. "Right."
As Ginny walked away, Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath and began pushing it all back down, all the guilt and lust and pain and humiliation. She pushed and pushed until it was all tightly back where it belonged in the big box of failures in her mind. She ground out her cigarette and started to plan her exit strategy when she felt Ron come up behind her. Magic surrounds a witch or wizard in a field that some people would call an aura, and Hermione was so familiar with Ron's that she could sense it as he approached. "Hello Ron," she said without turning around.
"Hi," he said quietly as he stepped next to her. "I thought you might want to dance. You know, best man and maid of honor."
She glared at him. "Absolutely not."
"Come on," he said, his eyes soft and pleading.
She turned to face him. "There are too many cameras around. One picture of you and I dancing would be worth a fortune to Witch Weekly. They'd spin it into evidence of me cheating on Viktor."
"Ah," he said sadly. "Right."
"They do seem to enjoy making me out to be some sort of horrid tart and I'd thank you to stop helping them," she said furiously but keeping her voice low.
"Yeah," Ron said. "I'm really sorry about that. I was—"
"Drunk," Hermione finished for him. "I know. You do so love to hurt me when you're drunk."
"Hey," he said, but she walked away from him.
The music in the tent changed from formal ballroom to contemporary. Hermione looked up to see that the stringed quartet had been replaced with a DJ stand and Lee Jordan was spinning the music. George appeared again, and said, "Finally, something we can really dance to."
Hermione looked around and realized most of the oldest witches and wizards had left. She followed George toward the dance floor. She finished her glass of wine as she went and left it on a side table before he pulled her on to the dance floor. She was definitely feeling the wine, and the buzzing in her head coupled with the conversations with Harry and Ginny and then Ron's bizarre request for a dance left her feeling a strong desire to get out of her head, and dancing was always good for that. As it turned out, George knew how to swing dance which was Hermione's favorite. They danced for four songs before she needed a break. She was getting another glass of wine from one of the fountains when Ginny and Luna joined her.
"I wish I'd thought to ask for ground fog for this bit," Ginny was saying. "It looks so cool when you dance in it."
Hermione smiled and drew her wand. She held out her hand and waved her wand in tight circles over it until a dense ball of fog had formed in her palm. She crouched down and blew the ball of fog on to the floor where it expanded and spread out over the dance floor but hugged the ground.
"That's fantastic!" Ginny said.
"Very nice spell work, Hermione," Luna added.
Hermione smiled. "Thanks."
"Why would you know that spell?" Luna asked curiously.
Hermione shrugged. "It's an elemental. Just a different way to cast Aguamenti, that's all."
"Ah," Luna said, but she cocked her head and looked at Hermione in that intense way of hers.
"Come on, Hermione," George said holding out his hand. "Break's over."
She chuckled and shook her head but took his hand anyway.
xXx
Ron stood staring at George twirling Hermione around the dance floor. He marveled at the ease with which the two moved together. If he hadn't been pretty sure George was gay, he would have been jealous. As it was, it just left him with a hollow feeling. He glanced over to the other side of the tent where Willa was chatting with another witch she knew. He couldn't think why he was dating her. Willa threw her head back and laughed at something the other witch said and her hair cascaded over her shoulder and her perfect white teeth flashed and he remembered that he was dating her because she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in real life, and he'd chosen her specifically to hurt Hermione. But now, as he watched Hermione dance with George, he felt like an idiot, and worse, an asshole, which is probably why Hermione had left him in the first place. After all, he'd told her to go. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He sighed. Although, when he thought about it honestly, he knew he'd told her to go for her own safety. He couldn't seem to control himself around her then, couldn't seem to stop trying to provoke her into some kind of response, and yet, no matter what he did, he couldn't make her fight back, couldn't get a rise out of her. When he couldn't fix their relationship, he'd completely destroyed it. He wished he hadn't done that. As George swung Hermione out with a waist slide, Ron's soul howled.
"Stop it," Ginny said, coming up behind him.
"What?" Ron said, without looking at her.
"Stop staring at Hermione, you're starting to draw attention to yourself."
"I don't care," Ron said.
"Well, I do," Ginny said, pinching him above his elbow.
"Ow," Ron said, turning to glare at her.
"Stop. It," Ginny repeated. "Go dance with your own girl."
"I can't stand her," Ron said grimly. "She's insufferable."
"Then why did you bring her?"
Ron glanced away and felt his cheeks go hot.
"Oh, for goodness sake," Ginny said, clearly exasperated. "You have to stop this."
"I stopped drinking," Ron said.
"I know." Ginny rested her hand on his forearm. "And that's great."
"Not really. I'm too late. She's moved on."
"And you can too. Just please, pick someone with half a brain next time."
Ron shook his head. "No. I just need a plan."
"A plan for what?" Ginny asked worriedly.
"To get her back."
Ginny sighed. "Ron…"
He turned to her. "I'll get her back. We belong together. It's fine that she's with Krum now. That won't last. They're not meant to be together. We are. I just need a plan to make myself worthy, so when she's ready to come back to me, I'll be worth coming back to."
"Oh, Ron," Ginny said.
He smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. This will all work out. You'll see." He walked away from her and out into the night.
Ginny sighed and went to find her husband.
xXx
After another hour of dancing and two more glasses of wine, Hermione could barely stand much less dance anymore.
"Come on, kid. Let's get you home." George said, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they headed for the fireplace. The Floo was always a more or less nauseating experience for Hermione, but after so much wine, it was definitely more nauseating. When they stepped out of the fireplace into her parlor she stumbled as she ran to the powder room and promptly emptied her stomach into the toilet.
"You okay there, Granger," George said, leaning against the doorjamb of the powder room.
Hermione sat down on the floor next to the toilet and let her head rest against the wall. "I'm fine," she said weakly.
"Uh huh," George said with amusement.
"Seriously," Hermione said. "I'm good." She leaned over and vomited again.
"Sure. You certainly seem fine." He left and Hermione threw up twice more. She flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall. George reappeared and handed her a glass of water. She rinsed out her mouth and spat the remains in the toilet, before drinking the rest of it.
"Do you have any potions around for nausea."
She did because of the morning sickness. "Orange bottle, bottom shelf," she said.
He took the bottle out of the medicine cabinet and handed it to her. She swallowed a mouthful and handed it back to him. He set it back on the shelf and held out his hands. "Ready to get up?"
She took his hands and he pulled her to her feet but she pitched forward.
"Whoa," George said, steadying her. When she stabilized, he said, "Let's get you to bed."
She looked at him feeling somewhat alarmed.
He laughed. "That wasn't a proposition, Granger. Come on. You're all the way at the top, right?" he said.
"Not anymore," Hermione responded weakly. "I'm just on the first floor, first door. I can make it up though. You don't have to stay." She stumbled as she said it and George tightened his grip on her waist.
"Why don't we just get you upstairs and then I'll go."
They made their way up to the bedroom she thought of as Viktor's. George got her over to the bed. She fell back, grateful to finally be able to lay down.
xXx
George opened a couple of drawers looking for something for her to sleep in. He couldn't help noticing Viktor's clothes here and there: a belt draped over a chair, a pair of boots in the corner, a pair of underpants on top of the laundry basket. "So, Viktor lives here?"
"No," Hermione said. "He stays here sometimes. He has his own flat in Diagon Ally."
"Oh," George said. He finally found her pajama drawer and pushed aside some silky things that he was sure looked smashing on her in favor of a simple pink cotton gown. When he turned around, her eyes were closed. He set the gown on the end of the bed and leaned down to take off her shoes. He felt her fingers in his hair and looked up. She looked so sad. He took her hand and squeezed it. "You're okay."
She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed again. "I haven't been okay in a long time."
"What happened with you two?"
A tear slipped. "It all fell apart. I couldn't fix it."
"I'm so sorry."
She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "It's okay."
"Right," he said, getting to his feet. "I put a gown on the end of the bed for you."
"Thanks, George," she said, sitting up.
"Goodnight," he said and headed for the door, but he stopped and turned around, "And Hermione, for the record, you're a hell of a dancer, and Ron's an idiot."
She smiled and nodded through her tears.
He smiled sympathetically and left.
