The first thing he saw upon entering the Burrow was Molly's disapproving expression. The first thing he felt upon entering the Burrow was Molly's hand, slapping him across the cheek. Then she gave him a tearful hug, more relieved than angry.

Ginny threw herself at him as well, hugging him almost as tightly as her mother had. A year ago, Harry would have been ecstatic at receiving such a hug, but now all he could think about was the ring on Hermione's finger. A small part of him was pleased to see that there wasn't a wedding band yet. Shush, he told himself, trying to squash the thought. They're my best friends. Their happiness should be enough for me.

Ron showed up, punched him in the shoulder, called him a git, then pulled him into a hug and asked him to be his best man at the upcoming wedding. Harry agreed, but found himself furious with Ron. How dare he? How dare he? He abandoned us, left us, betrayed us, and she chooses him over me? Him?

Pleading tiredness (this was beginning to become a pattern for him), Harry went upstairs to find somewhere to sleep. The attic had been cleaned, and the ghoul had been moved out, so Harry found a quiet corner and dozed off.

Ginny woke him up the next morning with a plate of pancakes and some gossip. Apparently shortly after Hermione had left him at Grimmauld place all those weeks ago, she had appeared back at the Burrow, red-eyed and muttering about "that bloody idiot, thinking he's so bloody special." A few days later, Ron asked her out, and she accepted. Then he proposed, and after taking some time to think about it, she accepted the proposal as well. The wedding hadn't been supposed to take place too long after that, but Harry's vanishing act postponed any planning, a fact which he was perversely pleased to hear. He was also pleased to hear that Hermione and Ron were still sleeping in separate bedrooms. Ginny also mentioned that she'd been seeing Neville around a lot lately, and while she'd tried to wait for Harry, it was clear that he was no longer interested, and, well, one thing had led to another, and it was their fourth date that night, and did Harry mind?

Harry did not mind, and he assured her that it was perfectly okay and he was glad she was happy. He was still dwelling upon the latest developments between Ron, Hermione, and himself, and while that hated part of himself was still filled with glee, he tried to stop it whenever it rose. The happiness of his friends was the most important thing, and his personal feelings weren't important. Ron and Hermione were together, were happy together, and that was all there was to it.

When he went downstairs, he saw Ron in an animated conversation with Percy. As he got closer, he could hear what they were saying.

"Ron, you git, I don't care if you are the bloody groom, there's no way we're letting you choose the music. Your taste's rubbish; Hermione's choosing it."

"Percy, you prat, she's already said she doesn't care. I get to choose it."

"She doesn't care? And you don't think there's something off about that? Ron, brides are supposed to be moody but excited. Well, I suppose I must admit that I don't know about any of that for sure, but the point is that Hermione not caring about her big day is a bad sign. I'm terrible with people, and I know that. You're sure you didn't rush into this? You did only date for a month, and this is a big step."

Harry rejoiced after hearing this, but his hopes were dashed after hearing Ron's next words.

"I'm sure, Percy. Hermione and I have known each other for years. We're happy. Everything is fine."

Harry heard this, but before he had time to wonder exactly who Ron was trying to convince, Ginny came skipping down the steps.

"I'm going to meet Neville now, Dad," she called out in a singsong voice. Harry looked at her in shock. She was wearing very short shorts and a crop top tank top, not exactly the most appropriate wizarding attire. She was also wearing a lot of makeup, including very dark eye shadow.

"Not like that, you're not, young lady," Arthur replied. "You go right back upstairs, change, and wash some of that makeup off. Now, or you'll be late for Neville."

"Fine, dad," she huffed, but before walking back upstairs, she winked at Harry and gestured for him to follow her.

After reaching the top of the stairs, Ginny stopped him and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Honestly, I dislike these clothes, but he so enjoys feeling important. And this much makeup is almost impossible for me to deal with. But last time I tried to go with just a bit of makeup, and some normal clothes, he still told me to go up and change. I've found out that if I go overboard the first time, I can wear what I want."

Looking at how pleased and content she seemed, he asked her, "Ginny? Are you happy?"

"Honestly, Harry, I am. I've felt more relaxed that I ever have before, even when we were dating. I look back on that, and I don't know how much of it was my earlier infatuation with you and how much of it were my adult feelings. But I still care about you, and you're clearly depressed about something. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Despite himself, Harry found himself telling Ginny everything, about his feelings for Hermione, his worries that he was putting himself before his friends. Ginny listened to him, then said, "Harry, you deserve to be happy too. You need to tell Hermione how you feel. If you don't, you'll regret it forever."

"But she and Ron are happy together. They love each other... Right?" he asked her.

"Why don't you ask them yourself? I need to go, can't keep Neville waiting. But there's a talk you need to have. The wedding is only a week away, and you owe it to them not to keep back anything that could hurt your relationship later on. Good luck."

"Ginny, thank you. So much. I'll try."

"My pleasure. Now, could I borrow your Firebolt? I think I'm going to be late."

Although Harry knew he had to listen to Ginny's advice and tell Hermione how he felt, he found himself growing more and more nervous. Time was running out, and he couldn't hold back much longer or an already awkward conversational minefield would become almost impossible to navigate. Telling his best friend's fiancee that he loved her was one (worrying) matter; telling his best friend's wife would ruin everything. Eventually the day before the wedding came, and Harry realized that it was now or never. He steeled his resolve, and approached Hermione's room. He was almost to the door when he heard something that made him pause; the sound of voices came through the crack between the door and the door frame. Peeking his head around the side of the door, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting on opposite sides of the bed. Ron looked very pleased, while Hermione looked equal parts uncomfortable and stressed. Harry was panicked. Were they about to...? That would be the point he would know that Hermione was truly happy with Ron.

"Ron," Hermione said, "I have something to tell you."

This was better than he was expecting. Maybe she'd say she wasn't ready to be that physical yet. Harry didn't have a problem with them having had, ah, relations, as it were; it didn't make a difference in how he felt for her and how much he wanted to be with her. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, might have a different point of view.

"What is it, Hermione? A problem with your dress? You'll look great, love, you always do."

Harry leaned closer to the door to hear, but he was almost floored with the shock of what he heard next.

"Ron, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can go through with this."

Author's Note: Part 3 should be along more quickly than the last one; I just need to edit it a bit more. Thanks for reading and for sticking with it!

-Church1alpha