Chapter Text
Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. She twirled, holding out the sides of her robes so that they cascaded over her arms to the floor. Never in her life did she think she would be this pretty—especially on the day she married her true love.
"Ginny," Hermione called over her shoulder. "Ginny, do you know if Ron and Harry have arrived yet? How much time do I have?"
Ginny poked her head in from the hallway. "I haven't seen either of them, but I'm sure they're almost here. All the guests are in their seats."
Hermione sighed. This day was turning out even better than she expected. The Burrow was hung with swags of red and gold—every surface seemed to be sparkling as much as her wedding gown. Guests had arrived from all corners of the globe- Hermione's parents had just gotten back from another extended vacation in Australia. Looking out the window, Hermione could see them sitting in the front row of the seats that had been set out in the Weasley's garden, chatting with Mr and Mrs Weasley over the aisle. Everyone seemed so happy these days.
"Hermione, we really need to go downstairs. Professor Flitwick is starting to look anxious." Ginny opened the door wide, looking radiant in scarlet dress robes that clashed magnificently with her hair. Flitwick had agreed to officiate the ceremony, which was modeled after a very traditional wizarding custom. In fact, the actual marriage contract had been set into motion months before, and Hermione and Ron had been strictly observing rituals and counseling sessions with Flitwick ever since. The ceremony today would be the final step—the permanent cementing of their bonds together—the step that would bring together all the preparations before. This was serious business.
With a quick glance in the mirror, Hermione made sure her bushy hair was still twined into Aunt Muriel's tiara. Ron liked her hair in its natural state, and Hermione was all too happy to oblige him. It really was so much easier not to have to worry about extraneous beauty nonsense on a day like today, after all. Really, it just meant that Hermione had more concentration to spare for things like navigating two flights of stairs in three-inch heels.
Hermione stepped into the kitchen. "I really hope Ron gets here soon, otherwise this whole idea of a super-traditional wizarding wedding is going to get out of hand," she said. Even with the radiance of a bride, Hermione was starting to look worried.
Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione with a motherly cluck. "Oh honey, you know it'll turn out just fine. Ron's bound to be nervous. He probably can't remember how to tie his shoes."
Flitwick turned from the doorway, where he was looking for signs of Harry and Ron. "Don't worry, Hermione," he said, "You'll get married today. You can be sure of that."
There was a loud CRACK, and Flitwick turned back to check if Ron had apparated in. Except it wasn't Ron—it was Harry, and Flitwick went flying, tumbling head over heels until he came to rest under Mrs Weasley's clock.
"Harry!" Ginny ran to him, but Harry ducked out of her hug and avoided her kiss. He headed straight to Hermione, who was looking around wildly for Ron.
"He's not here," Harry said as he charged up the stairs. "Well, not yet. He's had a bit of a mishap, but he'll be along shortly. The yard stirred as the wedding guests heard him thundering up five flights of stairs, pause—as though looking for something in Ron's bedroom—and with a clatter flew down again, obviously concealing something in his robes. Flashing a quick grin, he grabbed the pot of Floo powder from the side of the fireplace, and shot "Excuse me while I go rescue your fiancé" at a very shocked-looking Hermione on the way back out the door.
Harry disapparated, leaving Flitwick, Ginny and Hermione staring at each other, confused.