12 Grimmauld Place had never been Harry's favourite place to relax, that was indisputable. Despite once being a family home, the house seemed to hold more bad memories than good. It was the place that Sirius had hated, during both his teenage years and the year before his death. In short, the grimy old house reminded him of a prison - his godfather's prison, and he was normally repulsed by it. Today, however, the house seemed to be an almost perfect location, a place where he could mope without the fear of being interrupted.

Tapping the serpent head handle with his wand, the door flew open, revealing a expansive entryway. The interior of the house had not changed significantly in the two years since he had slept here; elf heads still littered the walls and the place was as gloomy as ever. Closing the door behind him, he marched toward the staircase, but was interrupted by the sound of scurrying feet.

Physically, Kreacher had hardly changed from his usual hideous self. His nose still hung flat to his face, and white hair spilled out unattractively from his ears. His attitude, however, had received a major transformation. Even after the war, he continued to have respect for Harry, and even attempted to be civil to those he felt were undesirable - even Hermione. No longer shut away in the old house, he was what Harry would call a normal elf.

"Master Potter!" he crooned, his toad-like voice reverberating in the silent room. "I did not realize you'd be coming to visit, or else Kreacher would have prepared something for Master. What would you like, coffee, tea? Will Master Weasley and Miss Granger be joining you?"

"Er, Kreacher, thanks for the offer, but this really isn't a good time." Harry explained. He wasn't sure if the elf had understood, but guessed he had as he bowed low before stalking off. He made his way successfully up the stairs, his footsteps echoing the silent house. He passed bedroom after bedroom, stair after stair, before finally reaching his destination. As he pushed the door open, he was greeted by an abundance of Gryffindor banners and posters of muggle girls in bikinis - there was no doubt that this had been Sirius' room.

Sprawling across the king-size bed, Harry tried to clear his mind, but his thoughts were only of Ginny. Where was she? Had she reached the church yet? Even worse, had she realized his absence? The last thought sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the weather outside. As confused as he currently was, he couldn't bear to see Ginny upset. But what if they didn't work out? Surely, it was better for her to survive the pain now, than a year from now. As the thoughts swirled around his head, Harry could've sworn he had heard the creak of the door, the sound of muffled footsteps. However, he decided to ignore the noise, convincing himself it was only Kreacher.

Suddenly, an object on the nightstand caught his attention. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was a wizard photograph, a picture of all four Marauders. It had obviously been taken at Hogwarts, the men all wearing robes and standing beside the Black Lake. It was a bright, sunny day, probably around examination time, and the men looked completely at ease as they laughed at the camera. In the back stood Pettigrew, his stubby fingers suspended over Remus' head, who was intently studying a book on transfiguration. To Remus' left stood a much younger Sirius, his black hair blowing freely in the wind as he guffawed loudly. He looked happier than Harry had ever seen him in memories and photos, nothing like the man Harry had known. Finally, not too far from Sirius' side stood James, almost an exact mirror image of Harry. His hair was attractively messy, his trademark, and his square frames slid down to his nose as he laughed. His father, his godfather, his mentor - three loyal, brave men, should all be attending his big day, but all three had lost their lives protecting him. Selfishly, Harry wished that he could have the resurrection stone one last time, just for some trusted advice or a pat on the shoulder. If only...

"Harry?" a voice spoke from the doorway. With a jolt, he realized it was only Hermione. She had obviously just came in from the old, as her cheeks were still pink from winter's bite. Her hair was not in it's usual bushy state, instead it was slicked back in a loose updo and peppered with melting snow. A poinsettia was attached to the side of her head, matching her knee-length red dress. "What's wrong?"

Motioning toward her to enter, she sat gently on the side of the bed. "Nothing," he said numbly, "nothing at all. How'd you know I was here?" He hoped that she'd realize his need for peace and quiet. Unfortunately, he knew Hermione well enough to know that the answer would not satisfy her.

"Oh, it was obvious, where else would you be? Certainly not the Burrow." she said matter-of-factly, as if any other suggestion would be ridiculous. For a minute, Harry could have sworn they were back at Hogwarts and she was lecturing them on Hogwarts: A History. To his dismay, he wasn't at Hogwarts, and Hermione was determined to remind him of the present situation.

"Harry James Potter," she started, her voice low but somehow firm. "Your wedding is in less than fifteen minutes, and you're here making acquaintance with the mold growing in here. You can't try and convince me that nothing's wrong."

"Has Ginny arrived yet?"

"Don't expect me to tell you, unless you're about to admit that something's bothering you. I know you, Harry, you're one of the most stubborn men I know, besides Ron of course. There's no shame in being nervous. In fact, if you weren't, I'd presume that you'd have gotten into George's stash of firewhisky." her voice was more pleading now, her tone less harsh. He chucked feebly as Hermione's eyes bore into him.

"What if I'm not ready? What if she deserves better than someone who's having second thoughts? I can't let her down, Hermione, I love her. But, I don't think I can go through with this either. I..." he suddenly stopped, willing himself not to get too riled up.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "If anyone's ready for this, it's you and Ginny. I know how you feel about her, you've loved her for years. Right now, nothing matters, not age, money or family. As long as you love each other, you've got everything you need."

Nodding slowly, he tried to absorb Hermione's advice. But instead of calming him, her words just seemed to scare him more. "What if I let them down? The Weasleys, I mean. What if I do something wrong, what if it doesn't work out? They'd never forgive me. Not only would I lose my wife, but my best mate and family as well." All the insignificant thoughts that Harry had been thinking about all seemed to spill out, like a bottle of butterbeer that had been uncorked.

"I'm almost positive you won't. Besides, even if you did, they'd come around eventually. The Weasleys adore you, Harry, and those bonds don't break overnight" she said soothingly, rubbing his arm as she said so. "Even if they didn't, which is quite improbable, you'd still have Ron and I."

"Thanks," Harry said slowly before picking up his pace. "Without you and Ron... I don't know where I'd be. Probably dead in the Forbidden Forest years ago. Thanks... for everything."

"You know we don't regret it, right Harry? In fact, I'd do it all again, and I'd guess that Ron feels the same way." Hermione said simply, smoothing her dress as she rose from the bed. "To answer your previous question, yes, Ginny should be there by now. She looks gorgeous, Harry, and I'm positive that as soon as you see her, you'll forget all of your doubts."

"You won't mention any of this to Ron, will you?" he asked suddenly. "If he hears about this, well... I'm sure you can imagine."

"Of course not, that conversation can stay up here. Now, it seems that you've only got five minutes until your bride comes waltzing down that aisle. Do you think you're ready?"

Suddenly, everything seemed to fit. Maybe, just maybe, this was the way it was supposed to be - he and Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Deep down, he knew that he loved Ginny with every ounce of his soul, and that time would not change that. Whether they married in five minutes or five years, he knew that his love for her would be the same. With this realization, he sprung off the bed and walked over to the nightstand, pocketing the picture in his breast pocket with his chain. Then, he turned to Hermione, and with a nod he acknowledged her question.

"Yes, I'm ready. I always have been, I just hadn't realized it." And with that, he grabbed her arm and the two disappeared from the dusty room.

Author's Note: Chapter 3 is finally up! So, Hermione's finally been able to prod some sense into Harry's brain. How do you think the wedding will unfold, and do you think there will be any more obstacles waiting for the bride and groom? Feel free to review, with your positive or negative thoughts, I'd love to hear what you think!