Chapter Text
“Are you coming?” Ron asked, looking behind him at Hermione, who was still staring down at the simple yellow dress spread out on the bed. It was a beautiful dress, but the colour was far too bright for her liking, and the short puffed sleeves made her feel like a child. Fleur had picked it out for her, beaming as she complimented how wonderful it would look on her—though Hermione knew full well that Fleur herself would never be caught dead in something like it.
“Yeah, I just need a second,” she replied.
All she had to do was put on the dress, step out into the backyard, and smile at the other wedding guests while watching two of her friends get married in a beautiful, blossoming garden on a sunny July afternoon. It should've been simple enough, something she should've been happy to do. But instead, all she could think about was grabbing one of the brooms outside and flying away—until she couldn't see anyone she knew anymore.
And this was coming from someone who famously hated flying.
"Alright, come find me when you're ready," Ron said as he walked out of the room toward the crowd forming outside.
Hermione let her silky dressing gown fall to the floor and picked up the bright yellow dress. After slipping into it, she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. She had tamed her wild hair by pulling it into a tight bun on top of her head. It always made her feel older, but Ron liked it, so she went along with it. Still, she left a few short curly strands loose to frame her face—just to feel a little more like herself.
Fleur had done her makeup, opting for a light pink blush on her cheeks. "It is summer, ‘Ermione! Ze season for vibrant colours and pink blushes!" she'd insisted.
But as Hermione stared at her reflection in the yellow dress, she couldn't help but feel like Fleur had tried to add as much colour as possible to someone who didn’t want to be seen at all.
After taking one more look in the mirror, Hermione turned around to make her way outside. As she moved toward the door, she found Ginny standing there, her arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on her face. They locked eyes for a moment, and Hermione could feel that Ginny had something on her mind.
"Are you ready to go outside?" Ginny asked before Hermione had a chance to say anything.
Ginny was dressed in an elegant light blue bridesmaid’s gown that flowed gracefully down to her ankles. It was the same dress Hermione had secretly hoped to wear today, but she hadn’t made the cut as one of the bridesmaids. Ginny’s flaming red hair was swept into an elegant chignon, adorned with small white pearls that matched the delicate earrings she wore. Her light blue heels completed the look, perfectly matching with her dress.
Hermione couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy as she looked at her. Ginny looked perfect, as she always did. Standing in the same room with her made Hermione feel as though she would never match the effortless beauty the red-haired witch seemed to radiate. It didn’t matter what Ginny wore or how she styled her hair—there was always a natural grace about her that Hermione felt she herself lacked. And today, in her yellow dress with puffed sleeves and tightly pulled-back hair, that feeling was more intense than ever.
“Yes, let’s go find Harry and Ron,” she told Ginny.
But instead of walking out the door, Ginny stepped further into the room. Hermione immediately felt a heavy weight in her chest, the feeling that she had been trying to escape from all day. Ginny had her gaze directed away from Hermione, and she was looking more nervous than Hermione had ever seen her—probably more so than when she’d had to confess to Mrs. Weasley about being pregnant about three years ago.
“I know you and Ron haven’t exactly been the perfect couple lately, but he really loves you. I just hope you know that.” Ginny’s voice was soft, hesitant, but her words stung all the same.
Hermione squinted, puzzled as to why this conversation had to happen now, of all days. She and Ron had had a lot of issues since coming to France. Hermione took every opportunity to return to Britain, participating in every rescue mission the Order had arranged. Hermione never hesitated to volunteer on missions, and each time, Ron had tried to stop her. At first, he would plead with her, reminding her how dangerous it was, how she could do more from the safety of France, working as a strategist for the Order. Then came the arguments—loud, explosive fights that left them both giving each other the silent treatment. Yet every time, after hours of screaming and slamming doors, Ron would volunteer to go with her. And then they'd drop it, pretending everything was fine until the next mission would drag them back into the same exhausting cycle.
“I know that. And I know things will get easier. I’m not pretending like I still wouldn’t be upset about him not backing me up when I presented my latest plan about returning home, but we’ll figure out another plan eventually,” Hermione said, trying to force an encouraging smile on her face.
After the Order fled to France two years ago, taking refuge under the protection of the French Ministry of Magic, Hermione felt like she was the only one who still wanted to keep fighting. For years the Order had fought against Voldemort, trying to get their hands on the one last remaining Horcrux, Nagini. The first two people they had lost were Fred and Angelina, who had just gotten engaged. After Fred’s death, George hadn’t made a single joke for years, making everyone vary and careful around him. Quite soon after that, they lost Tonks, leaving Remus Lupin alone with their son, Teddy. In the last year before fleeing to France, they also had to say goodbye to Hagrid, Colin Creevey, Michael Corner, Alicia Spinnet, Cormac McLaggen, Ernie McMillan, Percy Weasley, and many others from their Hogwarts days. But the final blow came with George Weasley’s death. While helping witches and wizards who had opposed Voldemort to escape the country, George was struck by the fatal green light of the Avada Kedavra curse. With both twins gone, Harry and the rest of the Weasleys had decided that enough was enough, and they needed to prioritize keeping the remaining members of the Order alive.
“We're safe here, Hermione," Ginny told her. "But enough about that. Just keep in mind today, that we all need to continue with our lives, do the things we would’ve done without the war, and find happiness where we can.”
The words of the beautiful red-haired witch sounded rehearsed, and Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind them, a catch she hadn’t quite figured out yet.
“So, take the love Ron is offering,” Ginny said, looking at her with a soft smile. “Remember today, that all of us, you included, need to start living our lives and move on from the war.”
Without waiting for an answer, Ginny turned and walked out the door. Hermione stood still for another minute, trying to understand what Ginny had meant. How could she move on from the war when it was still very much ongoing? Everyone else around her seemed to be living in a fantasy world, convincing themselves that they were safe and would remain so. But Hermione knew that this false sense of security would eventually fade when Voldemort would start to extend his grip on the wizarding world to other European countries. They would ultimately have to end the war, and the longer they waited, the stronger Voldemort would get.
Hermione shook her head and made her way outside.
The backyard of Delacour Manor looked stunning. The garden was in full bloom, filled with colourful flowers. The wedding guests mingled around a large fountain that portrayed three elegant nymphs holding urns in their hands and pouring water from them. A beautifully decorated altar stood at the far end of the yard, with rows of white chairs arranged neatly in front of it for the ceremony. After Monsieur Delacour had passed, the Manor was left to Fleur and her husband Bill, who both had welcomed the rest of the Weasley family into the guest rooms. The Manor had plenty of rooms, and Fleur had been more than happy to host Hermione and the Potters, all three of them, as well.
While making her way towards Ron, Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry handing the now two-year-old James Potter to Ginny. The toddler was dressed in a miniature suit that matched his father's, completed with a tiny, loosely hanging tie. Ginny smiled at the black-haired toddler and proceeded to give a kiss to her husband. It was the kind of scene that would have once filled Hermione with joy, a picture-perfect family moment. But now Hermione found herself feeling like she couldn’t take all this pretend happiness while their real home was still lost. Still under the ruthless control of the Dark Lord.
“Well, well, well, look at you!” Ron said with a playful whistle and a wide grin.
Hermione forced a smile, attempting to return the flirtation but failing miserably. Parvati Patil was standing next to Ron, in her light blue bridesmaid's dress, her hair styled just like Ginny's. She was looking at Hermione with a tight smile.
It wasn’t long ago that Padma and Parvati had fled Britain, just months after Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys had made their escape. Hermione had been part of the rescue mission where they'd arranged a path through international Floos, and created a route from London to the French Ministry of Magic. They'd brought people to safety through the Floos, and then closed them up to keep the Death Eaters away. Apparating such long distances would’ve been too dangerous, requiring multiple stops that left people vulnerable to snatchers who were still out there, hunting for members of the resistance. The Patil sisters had been brought out of Britain along with five others. The mission had been smoother than most, easy even, without almost any problems or fights. Hermione and Ron had stayed behind in London, closing the Floos after the last fugitives passed through, then taking turns Apparating and pulling each other along to close the next Floo on the route.
“You look beautiful, Hermione,” Parvati said, her tone laced with just a hint of disdain. Though she masked it well with a polite smile.
"Thank you, so do you," Hermione replied. She, too, forced a fake polite smile on her face.
There was an underlying tension in the air, making her feel like she'd walked in on something she wasn’t meant to overhear. She was curious about what it was she'd just interrupted, but didn’t want to ask in case she’d have to keep providing more fake compliments. Grabbing Ron's arm, she tugged him gently towards the rows of chairs in front of the altar.
"Let’s go find me a seat, the ceremony will start soon," she told him.
After all the guests had said their hellos and found their seats, the ceremony began. Seamus Finnigan made his way down the aisle, shaking hands and greeting everyone with a wide smile. When he reached the altar, Ron took his place behind him, followed by Harry, who stood behind Ron. A beautiful classical melody started to play as Fleur and Bill Weasley's six-year-old daughter, Victoire, skipped down the aisle, throwing flower petals on the ground along the way. Once Victoire took her seat next to her mother, Parvati walked down the aisle, clutching a bouquet of flowers. Then came the second bridesmaid, Ginny, who followed close behind Parvati to stand on the opposite side of Seamus, Ron, and Harry at the altar. She gave a small wave to James, who was perched on his grandmother’s lap in the front row.
The music shifted to the familiar strains of 'Here Comes the Bride', and all eyes turned to the beginning of the aisle. There stood Padma Patil, looking beautiful in a bright white wedding dress. Her long hair cascaded down her back in wide curls, adorned with a crystal headpiece with white flowers and pearls. Padma had chosen not to wear a veil and had wanted her hair to flow freely. As Padma walked gracefully down the aisle, the guests around Hermione fought back tears, and Hermione wondered if there was something wrong with her for not having the same reaction.
The ceremony itself was quite fast and the atmosphere relaxed. Seamus had hidden a few jokes into his vows, while Padma made playful remarks about how he had botched their first date. Hermione found herself genuinely happy for them, managing to keep her smile throughout the entire ordeal.
Yet, her focus constantly drifted to Ron and Parvati. The way they exchanged smiles and sneaky glances made her stomach tighten with unease. Despite her best efforts to stay present and joyful, she couldn’t ignore the knot that formed in her stomach whenever she saw their shared looks.
After the ceremony, the guests moved into the dining room of the Manor. Hermione was seated next to Ron, directly across from Harry and Ginny. To her discomfort, Parvati was sitting on the other side of Ron, and Hermione couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling it stirred in her. Neville Longbottom was sitting next to Hermione, with Luna Lovegood seated across from him, beside Ginny. James was sitting at the children’s table with Victoire, Teddy Lupin, and a few other young guests, all under the watchful care of Molly and Arthur Weasley. The Weasley grandparents had insisted on looking after the children so that the rest of the wedding party could fully enjoy the evening.
The entire table enjoyed the meal, listened to various speeches, and shared their own memories of the bride and groom (all but Hermione). They drank quite a bit and talked about their work, future plans, and fond memories from Hogwarts.
After dessert Ron asked Hermione to walk with him to the balcony outside, making some excuse about needing fresh air. Hermione didn’t miss Ginny giving Ron an encouraging smile as they got up from the table.
“It’s a really beautiful evening,” Ron began as soon as they reached the balcony, looking down at the decorated backyard.
“It really is,” Hermione agreed. For some reason she couldn't quite explain, the situation was making her uncomfortable.
“You know, we’ve been together for eight years now. That’s quite a long time,” Ron continued.
He glanced over at Hermione with a thoughtful expression on his face. They'd had their first kiss eight years ago, after destroying Hufflepuff's Cup. The moment had been a turning point in their lives, and they'd been together ever since. That night they also found and destroyed Ravenclaw’s Diadem without any problems, and reclaimed Hogwarts from Severus Snape. Since then, Hogwarts had served as a sanctuary for the Order, a place of refuge. But then Voldemort’s forces took it over again, forcing the Order to flee and hide.
“Yes, it is,” Hermione said again, afraid of where the conversation might be going.
“It wasn’t love at first sight for me,” Ron chuckled. “I actually thought you were rather annoying at first.” He glanced at Hermione, a playful glint in his eyes. “But as the years went by, I realized you were a brilliant and fierce witch, and that every day with you would be an adventure.”
Hermione’s grip on the balcony railing tightened, her knuckles turning white, but she still stayed silent.
“And I think it’s time we do the things we would have done without the war and try to find happiness wherever we can,” Ron concluded. Ginny’s words from earlier that day came back to Hermione’s mind, but she didn’t say a word, waiting for Ron to continue. He took a deep breath, clearly preparing himself for what he was about to say. “So, that being said…”
Ron turned to face Hermione, gently taking her hands off the balcony and guiding her to face him. With a deep breath, he sank down onto one knee.
Oh fuck, she thought.
Please no.
Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe. Like suddenly all the anxiety she had been feeling had just been preparing her for this moment, like she would've known it was coming. She desperately searched for a way to escape, but the garden lights seemed to blur together, and the noise from the party inside made it hard to think clearly. Ron’s hand trembled slightly as he retrieved a small black box from his pocket, and with a flick of his wrist, he opened it to reveal a delicate ring nestled inside.
“Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?”
Hermione’s mouth hung open as she struggled to find her voice. She slowly realized the meaning behind her conversation with Ginny earlier. She saw in her mind the way everyone had envisioned her future: a life intertwined with Ron's, filled with predictable milestones like marriage, children, and a home surrounded by the Weasley family and the Potters. The meaning of Ron’s proposal hit her with a sudden clarity. She could finally see the expectations of the people around her, the way they had been shaping her life without her even realizing it.
“Ron… you know I love you.” Hermione tried to choose her words carefully. “But… Maybe this just isn’t the time… or the place really… I mean, we’ve had our issues lately. I just think that maybe we should fix those first...”
For a moment, Ron’s smile was replaced by an expression of sorrow and hurt, and it seemed like he might cry. But then, with a sharp inhale, he stood up, placed the ring box in his pocket, and turned away from her.
“Honestly Hermione, you’re throwing everything away.” His words hit her like icy water, clearly meant to hurt her as much as she imagined he was hurting in the moment.
With one last angry glance over his shoulder, Ron stomped back inside. As soon as Hermione had gathered her composure from the shock of his words, she hurried after him through the balcony doors.
Inside the Manor, the atmosphere had shifted to a lively and slightly drunken celebration. The dance floor was bustling with guests circling the newlywed couple, who were at the centre of the floor, showing off their best dance moves. All the children had already been tucked into bed and the guests seemed to be feeling the effects of the generous supply of alcohol. Even Harry and Ginny had gotten up from the table and found their way to the dance floor. Neville still remained at the table, trying to flirt with Luna, who appeared blissfully unaware of his advances. Parvati, or Ron for that matter, was nowhere to be seen.
Hermione slipped between the dancing guests to ask Ginny and Harry if they’d seen where Ron had gone to. But before she even got a word out, Ginny noticed her and pulled her in for a big hug.
“Well, show me the ring!” Ginny laughed.
“Wait, he finally proposed?” Harry asked, seeming confused but happy.
Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand, and her smile dropped immediately when she didn’t find the delicate ring Ron had proposed with.
“You said no.” It was more of a disapproving statement than a question.
“I technically didn’t say no," Hermione began, "But I also didn’t say yes. Have you seen Ron? He stormed off and I need to…”
Ginny cut her off before she could finish. “Seriously Hermione, it’s just a matter of time before the two of you get married and start a family of your own. And Ron is ready for that! Don’t do this to him…”
“Did you see where Ron went after he came back inside?” Hermione asked, cutting straight to the point before Ginny could continue with her outburst.
“No, we didn’t. He’s probably just somewhere taking a little breather. We’ll tell him you’re looking for him when he comes back.” Harry gave her a little nod and a smile while Ginny turned away from her, a sulking expression on her face.
Dear Harry always knew how to calm a situation (and his wife who had developed quite a temper) and was immediately aware that Hermione wasn’t keen on lingering on the dance floor in the middle of the lively crowd. Grateful for the opportunity to slip away, she gave Harry a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, then turned away from her best friend and his hot-tempered wife.
After taking a look around the dance floor and confirming that Ron was indeed not there, Hermione started to look through the other rooms on the first floor. She wandered into a small lounge area on the east side of the Manor, where Arthur Weasley was having a conversation with his two eldest sons, Bill and Charlie. Hermione wasn’t sure if they knew about Ron’s plan to propose that night, but considering the close-knit nature of the Weasley family, it was possible they had even helped him pick out the ring. She tried to sneak past the lounge area before they could see her, holding her breath until she reached a hidden little hallway that led down to the kitchen.
The Manor had a fascinating old-world charm. It was mostly decorated with dark mahogany and sumptuous velvet. Massive antique chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, creating a luxurious touch into the decor. In contrast, the hidden hallways Hermione was sneaking in, had very little light. Fleur had explained that the Manor was originally constructed by Muggles in the 17th century before the Delacour family had acquired it. They had made their own magical enhancements to it, blending the old with something new.
Hermione wandered down the hallway, trying hard to find her way forward in the almost completely dark space. When she was getting closer to the kitchen, her thoughts were suddenly disrupted by the loud crash of plates falling and shattering on the ground.
“Oh shit!” A woman’s voice beamed through the hallway, as she giggled loudly, not really seeming to care about the plates she had just broken.
“Don’t worry. I’ll use a Reparo on that afterward,” the unmistakable sound of Ron’s voice travelled from the kitchen to the dimly lit hallway Hermione was standing in.
She could hear the sound of fabric being torn, objects being shoved aside, and the clatter of shoes being kicked off. For a moment she stood in shock, not knowing if she should walk in to stop what was about to happen or if she should just turn away and leave.
Or stay right there.
No, definitely not stay right here, she thought.
Hermione stepped into the kitchen just as a high-pitched moan echoed through the room. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene before her: Ron, her boyfriend, or now perhaps ex-boyfriend, was bending the bride’s sister over the kitchen counter. Her light blue bridesmaid’s dress was pulled up to her waist, exposing her bare backside, and the front of her dress had been ripped open, revealing her chest. Ron's hand was gripping Parvati's hair tightly, while his own hair looked like someone had been running their fingers through it recently.
“What the fuck Ron?” Hermione let out a scream at the scene.
Ron quickly spun around, his face flushed as he yanked Parvati's dress down to cover her exposed arse. He fumbled to fasten his trousers, his sweat-slicked forehead glistening and face turning as red as his hair. The buttons of his white dress shirt were hastily undone, adding to the overall dishevelled appearance.
“Seriously Ron, you proposed to me like ten minutes ago! I came down here looking for you to talk about what happened. How the hell are you already fucking someone else?” And Parvati of all people, Hermione wanted to add but decided to keep that comment to herself.
“You turned him down, and he needed some comfort,” Parvati said, her voice nonchalant as she didn’t even bother to cover her exposed chest. “He told me that if you were stupid enough to say no, then you two would be over. And we could finally really be together—publicly.”
Ron hadn’t said a word, he just stared at Hermione with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.
“Finally be together? Are you telling me this isn’t the first time?” Hermione’s mind replayed all the lingering looks, quick smiles, and the way they had been eyeing each other during the ceremony.
Anger surged inside her as she fixed her gaze on Ron, the only man she had ever loved. He stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, with shame etched into his bright blue eyes. His ears had turned red, revealing the embarrassment he felt about being caught literally with his pants down.
“Hermione, please, just calm down,” Ron said, his voice strained as he fumbled for his words. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
“How could you…” Hermione didn’t know whether to feel sad, angry or just generally hurt by the vision in front of her. And it didn’t make it any better than Parvati seemed to be smiling, looking pleased that they had been caught.
Parvati’s smile disappeared fast when Ron took a few steps closer to Hermione. “Please, Hermione, I was just upset and…” He reached out to take her hand, but she quickly retreated, stepping away from him.
“Fuck you," she said before storming out of the kitchen.