Chapter 69: Love's Second Wind
The pair of newlyweds, just married and pronounced husband and wife by Percy Weasley, smiled up into each other's eyes. Neville Longbottom quietly bent his face down towards a blissfully content Luna Scamander. As the couple embraced and kissed, the wedding snog deepening to the cheers of the congregation, fireworks suddenly swirled about them before blasting with piercing shrieks into the nighttime sky above the Rook.
As the new Mrs. Longbottom dreamily clutched at her husband, she almost carelessly tossed her bridal bouquet aside. The bunch of flowers boomeranged through the air straight at one of the honored guests.
Hermione Weasley brought her hands up to her face almost instinctively, intent on swatting the flowers away. It did no good: years of learning Quidditch at the side of her husband ensured that she trapped and caught the bridal bouquet. Frowning at the clump dubiously, her face brightened into an awkward mirth at seeing how, at her side, her brother-in-law Harry was roaring with laughter.
"Don't," she warned him chidingly, even as she failed to suppress the grin stealing across her lips.
Harry just smirked and lifted his hands in surrender. "You won't hear a thing from me!" The pair watched as Neville and Luna Longbottom now drew each other close and kissed again, chastely this time. Hermione felt her throat hitch with emotion. Merlin damn how everyone cries at weddings, and this one especially had been a long time coming!
She sighed. "I'm so glad Lu and Nev finally found each other again…."
Harry nodded, glancing down at the grass as he pushed the bangs out of his hair. Hermione could detect hints of gray amidst the dark strands. As for the bride, Luna's blonde hair was lightening somewhat, indicating a woman who was aging with grace.
It was a grace that now translated into how the new Mrs. Longbottom carried herself, blissfully guided back up the aisle by her now-husband and one-time flame.
At the reception, Hermione fiddled with the captured bridal bouquet awkwardly. Her cocktail dress had no pockets, and she glanced furtively about for an empty table to leave the flowers somewhere.
"Hands full?" Harry quipped teasingly.
"Well, I'm jolly well not going home with these!" Hermione twittered. "They're Luna's and besides, if Rosie saw me with the bouquet, she'd laugh at me!"
Harry took the bouquet from her to examine it. "These aren't like any flowers I've ever seen. They must be rare."
Hermione smiled wanly. "Neville would know, Professor of Herbology that he is. But knowing Luna, she probably picked them out."
"Not a conventional couple, by any means," Harry conceded, seeming to use the unique flowers as an anchor of symbolism while passing the bouquet back to her. "But damme, they suit each other!"
Hermione grinned, picking at a flower petal absently. "I had roses in my wedding bouquet, remember?"
Harry nodded. "That was how you and Ron got Rosie's name."
"Mm-hmm," she nodded back. "Well, that and As You Like It, with a dash of Citizen Kane thrown in."
They were suddenly attacked from behind by Lorcan and Lysander, Luna's twin sons from her previous marriage to the late Rolf Scamander. "Wotcher, Uncle Harry! Aunt Hermione!"
"And you caught the bouquet! Jolly good show on you! When's the wedding, Auntie?"
Harry and Hermione sent each other looks that were part bemused, part horrified.
"It's like the second coming of Fred and George," Hermione hissed to her brother-in-law.
"Too right," Harry chuckled.
"Never," Hermione told Lorcan. "If your mummy's gotten married for the last time, then I'm already way ahead of her. Once was enough for me!" Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how Harry looked solemn.
"I suppose the same goes for me too. But hullo, boys. How are you getting on?"
"Oh, we're thrilled for Mummy. Will be hard to start calling Uncle Nev 'Dad' though…."
"But if she's happy…." Lysander finished for his brother. "We're happy. 'Sides, we've heard some of the stories. Summer flings – passionate affairs!"
"We certainly didn't get into such mishaps when we were 17!" his twin added.
Hermione smirked wryly. "I'm sure." She peered at Lorcan. "Were those your fireworks?"
"Yup," he grinned proudly. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – the best there is! Uncle George gave them to us for a song!"
…. Bother that George! "You lot really ought to be more careful where you shoot those off, you know!" Hermione took to scolding the boys, who had the decency to at least try and look shamefaced. "I'm pretty sure I saw one nearly go up your mummy's dress!"
"Mum flashing her drawers on her wedding day!" Lysander hooted. "Now there's hardly a surprise! She's always been a real charmer, Mummy!"
The Scamander twins roared with happy laughter and pelted away, waving gaily.
Hermione and Harry surveyed the reception silently, the lightness of the moment suddenly sucked away from them, despite the twins' revelry. They both seemed to sense that the other was in the same emotional place. Hermione felt the tears come to her eyes anew.
"Ron…. Ronald was a right laugh at weddings," she chuckled emotionally, blinking back moisture.
Harry nodded. "I keep wishing Gin was here." Hermione was about to make a quip pointing her brother-in-law in the direction of the drink cart, but wisely held her tongue. His gaze shifted to take in where Neville and Luna were completing their first dance as man and wife. "She would have been over the moon to see her best mates marrying each other… even if it is a second marriage for them both." Her side-eyed his sister-in-law. "They were her Ron and Hermione, so to speak."
Hermione pursed her lips in amusement as she considered the point. "I suppose you're right." She went back to taking in the newlyweds. "I daresay Luna made an improvement on her choice of bridal dress. Remember that awful ensemble at her wedding to Rolf?"
"… and Rita Skeeter declared it Most Hideous Outfit of the Year!" Harry blasted. "Merlin sakes, that's probably the only time that woman ever printed anything right! Ginny was still pissed, though. Fully intent on hexing her too." His late bride wouldn't have dared to let anyone, least of all Rita Skeeter, criticize Luna, even if the tabloid bird was for once actually correct.
The Longbottoms were now being mobbed on their way off the dance floor. Harry could see his daughter, all grown up, at the head of the well-wishers, chittering to her godmother excitedly.
"Lily seems thrilled."
"Maid of Honor? She should be," Harry nodded. "Did you know she actually burst into tears when Lu asked her?"
"I can imagine. Like mother, like daughter."
"True, except Ginny was Lu's Matron of Honor to Rolf. She and I were already married, and…. good Merlin, I'm losing my memory…. Was that before or after we were had Lily?"
"After, I should hope!" Hermione gasped, studying him with concern. "I have photographs of Lily at that wedding in one of my albums; she was little!" Her brown eyes scanned for the drink cart. "Shall I get you a tonic, Harry? Maybe you'd better sit down…."
"Fine, I'm bloody fine, woman!" Harry harrumphed.
Neville and Luna now finally reached them. The bride's eyes lit up.
"Hermione! You caught it!" A radiant Luna now dashed in to hug her friend. "Oh, I'm so glad! That means you'll be the one getting married next!"
Hermione let out an awkward chuckle. "Oh, no, not me! I don't believe in superstitions like that…."
Luna shrugged. "You never know. It isn't too late. It wasn't for us." She clutched Neville's arm and beamed adoringly up at him, eyes shining. "Was it, my love?"
"No, indeed," Neville warbled, using his free arm to pump Harry's hand. "Come to stay for the cake cutting, mate?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes…. Of course!" Harry fought back a yawn. Merlin, when had he gotten so old enough that a nap seemed tempting?
Luna was glancing between Hermione and Harry curiously. "But don't you think either of you will get married again someday?"
Hermione and Harry shared a look. The former finally shrugged. "Weasleys are all over the place these days, yet somehow, are still so exceedingly rare. There was only one Ron."
Harry nodded in agreement. "There was only one Ginny."
"Amen to that! Bloody hell, I'll even drink to it!" The groom boomed.
"Don't swear, Neville darling," Luna purred, poised and serene as ever. She began to tug him towards their wedding cake. "Come on, Daddy wants a picture." The happy couple moved away into the throng.
"What's old Xenophilius gotta be now? 80, surely?" Harry wondered aloud. He caught Hermione listlessly fiddling with Luna's bouquet again. "Oh, bloody hell, here!" Snatching it from her, he pinned the whole thing to his lapel, causing Hermione to blink and then shriek with laughter.
"What?"
"That'll cover for your boutonnière!" Hermione trilled.
"Well, where else are we going to put it? You didn't want it!"
"That may be, but I wasn't going to dare say so to Luna…"
"Come on," and Harry held out his hands to his sister-in-law. "You say I'm that tired, then the least you can do is get on that floor with me. A dance is as jolly good as a rest!"
Taken aback, yet pleased too, Hermione accepted.
The siblings-in-law glided out onto the floor. Even though she knew she was the better dancer, Hermione let Harry take the lead. A slow song came over the speakers:
"Forgive us now, for what we've done. It started out as a bit of fun; here, take these before we run away…."
He felt Hermione suck in a breath. "Oh, Merlin! Harry! I think this is the same song we danced to in the tent!"
Harry cocked his ears and listened, stunned to realize that she was right: it was the same song. All at once, a memory from some 30, 35 years ago came flooding back. …. He tried not to think about how Ron had been away during that time, though now same as then, Harry felt the absence of their best mate anew, and acutely.
He and Hermione had now de-escalated to a slow, awkward shuffle; Harry was more or less now looking down at his feet to make sure he didn't step on hers.
"Harry?"
"Huh?" He lifted his head to take in his best friend. Hermione was biting her lip.
"You know how Luna was wondering if you or I would ever get married again…?"
"Oh, don't take no heed of her; that's just Luna's way. Plus the Nargles."
"Huh? The what?" Hermione blinked.
"Never mind. Anyway, you were saying….?"
Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip. "Well….. suppose that you and I…. that we…" She lifted her chocolate orbs to peer at him. "What if we were to…. start something…. together?"
Harry could tell she was thinking back to the charged moment in that tent from decades before, when it had felt as though they were going to start something, as two bereft teenagers starved for company while missing the ones they loved.
He seriously considered it. What it would be like to date her, pushing down for the moment the knowledge that, though both widowed, they had still once been family by marriage. He even threw his imagination forward and tried to imagine what it would be like to marry her. Marry again, to Hermione, someday.
Studying her face, Harry finally tried to ponder what it would be like to kiss his best friend without actually having to dive in and taste. See for himself.
And with that, he had his answer.
Harry and Hermione both simultaneously burst out laughing.
"It would never work!" he chortled. "You're like my sister, and I reckon you feel the same way about me!"
"No offense, but I agree!" Hermione giggled, blushing furiously. "We couldn't be ro… romantically involved! We're…. we're too alike!"
"Exactly!" Harry smiled at her. "Could you see us trying to host garden parties? I think I really would fall asleep then!" The best mates were now starting to hoot.
"They'd…. they'd be so dreadfully dull, like those functions we were pressed into at the Slug Club!" Hermione blasted.
"Too right! Re….remember that meeting during spring term of sixth year, with the ice cream….?"
"…. and when Slughorn asked me what my parents did, I said they were dentists!" Hermione blasted.
"Oh, dear….." Harry wiped a jovial tear from his eye. "Poor Neville was seated right next to you…. the look on his face!..."
"Speaking of Neville….. Ssssh!" Hermione waved him down as the hubbub began to die into silence. Neville was standing at the table reserved for the wedding party, calling for quiet.
"Attention, everyone! My bride tells me it's time to cut the cake!" There was a spat of general twittering, as a beaming, radiant and resplendent Luna Longbottom (nee Lovegood, formerly Scamander) craned up to loop her arms around her husband's neck and kiss him soundly, to Ooohs and wolf whistles.
Grinning, Hermione leaned against her brother-in-law and best friend, her smile broadening as the photographer called out to watch for the diggy bird, and snapped a shot of Neville and Luna slicing their wedding cake and snogging.
Shifting her eyes down, she nearly planted her nose into the petals from Luna's bouquet, the wilting flowers still dangling from Harry's lapel.
"Before you suffer any further, big brother, I think I will take back that bouquet, if it's all the same to you!"
"Don't let Rosie catch you with them, once you're back," Harry warned her. "There would be questions and teasing. Still, I'm sorry she and Scorpius and the children couldn't make it."
Hermione huffed out a snort through her nose. "I'm not. It would have taken away all the focus from the bride and groom and devolved into the Malfoy comedy hour!"
"Ah, the joys of being a grandparent – watching your little ones parent tiny tots of their own…"
"Ruddy shut it, Potter. Sentimental has never suited you."