Chapter 4:

The Great Hall was brimming with whispers and quiet conversation. Those whispers and conversations echoed in Ron Weasley's ears like fireworks as he waited at the front of the Hall. Although he looked great in his tuxedo dress robes and smiled as if he was getting paid for it, he was nervous as all hell. His knees shook inside of the robes and palms were sweating like mad. Still, he knew that the moment he saw her walk down the aisle that all of this fuss and insanity that ensued to put this wedding on would be worth it. He knew that of all of the girls he had ever seen, all that he had ever met or known, Hermione was the girl that turned his head first, even if it was because she was a bucktoothed brainiac.

Chords and fanfares blared out of the organ up above the Great Hall, and suddenly, everything went quiet, save for the music. The doors open and Ron's insides squirmed and ached. The procession began.

Two by two and clad in green, each of their greatest friends walked down the aisle, smiling (well, almost all, Tonks looked a little perturbed, but she forced a smile at Ron as she took her seat at the end of the row). Finally Harry and Ginny walked down the aisle and took their seats, the best man and maid of honor. His heart sped at a breakneck pace. It was her turn to take the walk...

Ron beamed as his stomach finally relaxed and unclenched, watching Hermione gracefully walk down the aisle with her father at her side. She looked like porcelain, breakable and fragile in her pristine white dress, her veil shading her eyes just so. When she reached the front and faced Ron, he caught a glimpse of her eyes through the veil. He smiled at her. She smiled back, but her eyes looked red and puffy. Ron shot her a small concerned glance, but she nodded it off. It must be nothing... he thought.

"We are gathered here today to bear witness..."

-----

"Well, are you sure?" he said, looking her in the eyes quiet seriously.

The air was thick with the smell of hay and sweat, and sun shone in brightly through the window that they had finally managed to crack open.

"I've already told you," said Hermione, "I was fine!"

There on the floor, over a mound of hay and a large blanket, they laid together laughing loudly and making jokes. No one listening onto their conversation would ever think that minutes ago they were making love with the utmost passion.

"I'm just making sure," said Sirius, tracing a finger down her body softly. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I hurt you during this."

She laughed heartily, and although he could have sworn that she was biting back tears, it made him feel a little less awkward regarding the whole situation. "You aren't hurting me, Sirius," she said, kissing him softly. As he held her warm body in his arms, he felt the gratitude and love radiating off of her. Her kisses were young and experimental, something he had not felt in ages, not since he was so young himself.

As for her, she felt safe and right in the arms of her older friend. She and he, they had an understanding within their secret. Together, they could escape, if only for a moment or two, to a world where there were no Voldemorts or Death Eaters. No exams or books. A world outside of Grimmauld Place, or any earthly habitation, for that matter. Together, they created a bliss filled with everything they had lost in life, bringing it back to each other with cries of ecstasy and an odd sense of love that neither of them had ever experienced.

It wasn't that of lovers, where their moments of lovemaking were filled with lust and sexual frenzies, and yet, it wasn't that of romance, either. It was a gesture of kindness that, in turn, gave them the release that the real world around them couldn't. He cared for the girl like she was family, but she played not the wife or the girlfriend. What they were to each other, not even they knew what to call it, but there was no doubt that whatever it was, it was love of the deepest kind.

And as they laid together, naked and comfortable, they treated it like the last time. Every time was the last time, because at times like these, any time could be the last time. So long as there was no expectation of it ever happening again, they would never be saddened if it didn't happen.

---

"And do you, Hermione Granger, take Ronald Weasley as your lawfully wedded husband..."

"Hermione, I just want you to know that your secrets are safe with me..."

"...to have and to hold..."

...she squinted her eyes tightly as he moved into her at a quickening pace, the pressure of it all nearly blinding her with immeasurable pain, but the feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her... it was her sanctuary...

"...for better or for worse..."

"Do you think this really will be the last time?" she said with an air of sadness.

"You're back to school tomorrow, right?" he said with a sigh. "Then yes... I wish I could promise that I will be back for you come next summer..."

She turned to leave until she felt his warm, trembling hand on her shoulder.

"Please take this," he said, holding a small locket in his hand. "To remember me... to remember this..."

"...through sickness and health..."

They wrapped up in their usual blankets, sheltering from the frigid cold and their combined nakedness. Still, their bodies burned hot as they moved ceaselessly onwards as one, striving to achieve the pleasure that gave them sanity in a time where the seemed to rule on both sides of the war...

"...until death..."

She let the silent tears stream down her face as she stroked Buckbeak's sleek feathers, laying in the hay pile that had become their bed, untouched from the time they had last laid in it months ago during the winter... it still smelled of him, and though it tortured her senses to be able to sense him and know he wasn't going to come back, and that thye indeed had a last time, it was the only comfort to know that he had actually, at one point, shared that same space with her... because he alone understood...

"...do you part?"

Hermione did not hesitate as she clenched the locket in her first to the point where the corners of it dug sharply into her skin. "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the Minister. The audience waited with bated breath, waiting for the words that would seal the deal and lead onto the great reception that the house elves of Hogwarts had prepared for them. "You may kiss the bride..."

And as Ron took her into his arms, lifting the veil from her eyes, she felt the locket slip from between her fingers. For a moment, she tried to catch it, but as she stared into his eyes, eyes full of a warmth and understanding that she only saw in a person once upon a long time ago, she realized that it was time to move on and let go. Because the locket was only a locket, and the memories were hers forever. It was just a minor thing, after all.