Okay, you're getting a 2 for 1 deal here - I know I've been lacking sorely with this. Apologies, life just continues to kick me while I'm down :(

As always (thought missed in my last update) nothing that is from Harry Potter belongs to me, I merely make them bow to my will :P

Chapter Ten

Staring at the Floo in the headmaster's office like it was going to bite her, Hermione once again cursed her fiancé for having persuaded her she deserved the chance to look like a true bride, to wear the dress she had dreamed of since being a child. While they both held hope that the law was going to be repealed, they both needed to face the possibility that they could be together for a very long time. And Harry had not wanted her to miss out on the experience to wear the wedding dress she deserved.

Further cursing her companion for being late, Hermione almost turned tail and ran out of the door, uncaring if the headmaster thought her completely barmy. As it happened, the old wizard managed to snare her attention. "It is perfectly normal to feel nervous, my dear."

Hermione looked at him, choosing her words carefully. "It isn't so much nerves as it is this impending sense of doom. I'm sorry, I know that sounds terribly dramatic."

Removing his spectacles, Dumbledore looked at her steadily and offered the gentlest of smiles. "My dear girl, you are having to marry a young man you've considered your closest confident, your friend. In just a few days' time no less! And now, when your heart should be filled with joy and wonder, it is filled with dread and fear while you go and hunt down a wedding dress. I think an impending sense of doom is somewhat rather accurate. But, Hermione, remember this: Harry adores you. You could find no less of a kind-hearted and generous young man than him. Your emotions are entirely valid and reasonable to the situation, but do try to remember that you have many people on your side – you future husband included."

She smiled at him and the boulder in her stomach shrank down to an uncomfortable knot that she knew would eventually disappear. "Thank you, sir."

Blue eye twinkled and one closed in a slow wink. "Whatever for, my dear?"

Before she could comment, the Floo roared to life and Fleur Weasley, neé Delacour, stepped out, her wand sifting the ash from her clothes and smile splitting her face. Being a witch she knew of the situation but she was nonetheless happy for the young witch and more than willing to lend her support in searching for a wedding dress.

"Ah! Hermione! It is so good to see you!"

Fleur's accent had not diminished much but her pronunciation was much better and Hermione had little trouble understanding the French-born woman. "Fleur, thank you so much for this, truly. I could not face this alone."

Warm blue eyes melted to sadness and she enveloped Hermione in a hug. "Oh, sweet girl, I promise you, everything will work out in the end. I know it seems like an impossible situation with no chance of escape, but Harry is a good man, and he is honourable. There is nothing he would not do to protect you, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't deny that. "He gave me his vault key, said to buy whatever I wanted."

The French woman grinned widely. "Pah! Silly boy! This is on me, sweetheart. Anything your heart desires for your day is yours, you need only ask. And do not refuse to ask me for sense of propriety or believing yourself to be asking too much – you deserve the very best and the Delacour wealth is vast, sweetheart."

Her jaw damn near hit the ground and she stammered out her gratitude, already having had an argument with Harry over his vault key and not wanting to offend the woman as she had her friend. Harry had quickly gotten over his hurt but she could see that it had wounded him that she did not believe he should be willing to provide for her. She suspected the fact it was him she was marrying and then paying for her dress too had simply been too much.

The headmaster waved both the women off and they disappeared through the Floo in a blaze of green to the first dress shop on Fleur's expansive list. Hermione had no idea how far afield they were going but Fleur had made a thousand promises to Dumbledore that she would take great care of Hermione and ensure that if there was even a whiff of danger, she would return the girl to the school immediately and if it came to it, order a dress via express owl mail.

They stepped out into a quiet little shop, electricity powered the lights and Hermione realised with a startle that they were in a Muggle shop. She glanced to the woman at her side and she winked at her. "I bought my dress in a Muggle shop," she whispered softly. "Nothing on the wizarding side offered what I wanted."

"Was it this shop?"

Fleur shook her head. "No, though it is on the list. We will find your dress in one of them, I am sure of it!"

The shopkeeper came out to greet them. "Good morning, ladies! Who is the lucky lady?"

Hermione raised a tentative hand. "Me."

"Oh, lovely! No need to look like you're about to be mauled by wolves, dear! Come through, let's get you measured up and then we can get an idea for what you're wanting."

Fleur laid a hand on the woman's arm. "We are from Hogwarts – she may not know what she wants just yet."

The woman offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, dear, we have plenty of time to be able to work it out."

Hermione flashed a look at her in shock. "You know of Hogwarts?"

"I'm a squib, darling. Come, let's get started."

-oo0oo-

As it happened, with every dress that Hermione tried on she was certain that she was never going to find what she wanted. Everything looked wrong on her, no matter what she tried on, she found fault with it. To Fleur's credit, she never once voiced the exasperation that Hermione knew she must be feeling with the teenage witch, and she was grateful for that.

"Right, our next stop is the shop I bought my wedding dress in. The lady is a Muggle, but her husband is a wizard so she is aware of our world. She is…a little eccentric but believe me, she works magic. And Hermione? I know you've been balking at the prices – this lady does not tag her dresses."

Paling, Hermione knew she'd been caught out and hoping Fleur was not upset with her, but her blue eyes were warm with understanding. Fleur had married for love, despite what her family had said and refused to even invite them if they did not pull their head out of their asses. Hermione was being forced into marriage, one that would be, essentially, loveless.

Fleur stopped on the pavement and took both of Hermione's hands in hers. "Listen, Hermione, I understand that this is not how you envisioned shopping for your wedding dress. I cannot begin to imagine how you must be feeling, but Harry does not want you looking back on your wedding day and regretting not looking as you had hoped you would on such an important day. Remember, you and Harry may not be in love, but he does love you very much and he only wants you to have everything you would want."

Hermione sighed heavily but nodded. They walked inside, the woman calling out a shrill welcome and that she would be out in a moment. Hermione looked around the place and her eyes lit upon several things that caught her attention. She did not see Fleur taking careful notice of her reactions, the woman filing them away for later. "Hello, ladies! Oh! Fleur, dear! How wonderful it is to see you! Not in need of another dress, are you?"

The lady was something of a Picasso painting. She dressed with horrible fashion sense, everything clashed with everything and that really shouldn't have been possible, but it was. Her earrings were mismatched, her hair was sticking up all over her head as if she'd stuck her finger in a socket, and her makeup was painted so thick Hermione feared that an undertaker had done it for her.

"No, Madam Touvelle, it is my friend here who is in need of a dress. We're having a little trouble finding something to her liking."

Madam Touvelle eyed Hermione critically, her eyes narrowed in concentration, head cocking side to side like a dog until eventually the woman exclaimed, hands clapping together and a wide smile splitting her face. "I think I have just the dress for you, my darling. But first, if you would kindly answer a few questions for me, it would greatly help me select the right dress for you."

Hermione glanced fearfully at Fleur but the former Beauxbatons student merely coughed quietly and disappeared to look around the shop, specifically at the things that had caught Hermione's attention she noticed. "Erm, of course, Madam Touvelle, anything that will make your job easier."

Warm, slightly clammy, hands rested on her shoulders and propelled her forwards to some over-stuffed armchairs. A slim woman appeared suddenly with a tea tray and vanished from sight again, the Madam mixing the hot drink and holding sugar out to Hermione. She added a single cube to her tea and sipped it, waiting patiently for the woman to begin her questions.

"Now, dearie, I get the sense that this is something that is causing you great upset. I assume Fleur told you my husband is a wizard, as such, I am very much aware of what is going on right now. Is the man you are marrying someone you do not wish to be tied to?"

"I don't wish to be tied to anyone, Madam."

"Of course not, dear, but is he a brute?"

Hermione paled. "No! Nothing of the sort! Harry is a very kind, generous and courageous man! He's doing this to keep me safe, giving up his chance at happiness with a woman he would love to help me!"

Madam Touvelle smiled, beamed, in fact. "Very good, then why, pray tell, do you look so sad?"

"Madam, please do not insult my intelligence. I am being forced into a marriage I don't want, I will be forced to consummate my marriage with someone I have never had romantic feelings for, and will ultimately be expected to produce a child, two in five years, to be precise. What, pray tell, could I possibly have to be happy about?" Hermione snarled, rage colouring her cheeks.

"That the man you are marrying is kind? That he has made sacrifices for you? My dear child, marriage is more than just sex and making babies. It is so much more than that! When I married my husband it was somewhat similar to your own situation. The family I married into was dying off, they produced more and more squibs. So, they thought perhaps adding a Muggle into the bloodline would possibly regenerate the magic, so to speak. It was arranged between his parents and mine, and I assure, my dear, we did not love one another. But, in time, we learned to live together, to work together, and ultimately, I fell in love with him, as he did me. We have been married for over thirty years now, and I still very much love him."

Hermione blinked at her, unable to comprehend something good coming out of what should seem a hopeless situation. Her brain ran at a thousand miles, sifting through everything she had just been told. Was it possible that she and Harry could be happy? That she would be able to one day love him? No, of course not, he was giving up everything for her. He would come to resent her eventually. She knew it. Would he though? Or would he love you as if you were the very breath in his lungs? A traitorous voice whispered in her mind.

Tea drank, Hermione was ushered into a changing room where a dress hung inside its protective bag. "Let's give this one a try, shall we? Fleur has already picked out some accessories for you, child. And you can look in the mirror once everything is in place, alright?"

Hermione agreed and allowed Madam Touvelle to work whatever magic she perceived she had in finding uncertain brides exactly what they were looking for. Doubt darkened her heart, fully prepared to find fault in something that would make sure she was turned away from it. She was her own worse saboteur, it seemed. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw in the mirror once Madam Touvelle was through with her.