Always a Bridesmaid

The sound of silence should have been the first sign that something was wrong. If she hadn’t been distracted by the handsome man beside her and, more specifically, by the feel of his hand holding hers, Hermione would have instantly been alert and prepared.

As it was, they entered the inn hand in hand and she was pretty sure that their faces were flushed from sneaking glances at each other during the short walk from the garden into the lobby. Their gazes had met several times, quickly followed by sheepish smiles and pink cheeks and usually a cheeky wink from Cedric.

She should have known that it was merely the calm before the storm.

When they stepped inside, Cedric leaned his head down and whispered, “I don’t know about you, Granger, but I think this is the best wedding I’ve attended by far.”

His words made her smile and she looked up at him, finally giving in to the temptation to brush that stray lock of hair away from his face. Before she could reply, a bright light flashed and she saw spots.

“Tell me, Miss Granger. Is this simply a charade intended to convince Mister Potter to leave his bride and run off with you?”

The words were asked in a sharp, crisp tone with a hint of utter smugness that made Hermione’s blood boil. Cedric’s hand gripped her tighter when they both turned to look at the intrusion on their private moment.

“Mister Diggory this time, is it? My, my. You do have a fondness for the Champions, don’t you, Miss Granger? Should I warn Mister Weasley to keep his wife away from you or have you already been through the former Miss Delacour?”

“If you insist on slandering my best friend and sister-in-law’s names, I’ll not hesitate in hexing your arse back to whatever gutter you’ve crawled out of,” Ginny warned in a tone that was a bit too convincing.

A quick glance around the room told her exactly why it had been so quiet. Neville had a hold of Ginny, who looked as if she were ready to jump in with her wand zapping. Luna was standing next to a very rotund man who was eating an apple and watching the events with inebriated interest and Luna looked as if she were ready to stand right by Ginny should the need arise. Uncle Rodrick was lurking in an open doorway and looked as if he were ready to run for reinforcements if necessary. And, right in the middle of the chaos, was Rita Skeeter.

“Would you like that quoted, Mrs. Longbottom?” Rita asked smugly as her quill wrote rapidly in the air beside her. Her attention never wavered from Hermione, however. “Well, Miss Granger. No outraged words in your defense? My readers are just dying to know how the other woman feels about seeing her childhood sweetheart marry another.”

“I’d suggest that you hire a new fact checker, Miss Skeeter,” Hermione informed her coolly. “I would so hate to bring charges against you for libel and slander should you actually print such ridiculous lies.”

“Go on record that Miss Granger denies that she and Mister Potter used to be an item and then proceeded to threaten me,” Rita said clearly to her quill.

“The only record you’re going to go on is the one about the most hexed bitch in history,” Ginny spoke up before she glared at Neville. “No, I will not shut up!”

“I won’t go,” the intoxicated man suddenly spoke up as he tossed a half-eaten apple core onto the floor. “I’ve been hired!”

“Tell me, Sir. Did Miss Granger fire you so that the wedding would be ruined? My readers want to hear your story.”

“Fired me, they did! This one keeps taking my apples and says I’ve got to go home,” he bemoaned his fate with enough dramatic inflection that Hermione wondered if he’d been an actor simply posing as a justice.

“No more apples for you,” Luna told the man as she reached for one he had managed to grab. She looked at Rita and frowned. “Get that quill away from me. It’s obviously infected with lorgles. I know how to remove lorgles, of course, but I’d hate for you to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Oh God,” Hermione whispered as she looked from Ginny and Neville, who were now having a heated discussion, to Luna who was rambling on about infected quills to the drunk man happily eating another apple.

Give her food to locate, brides to comfort, or even justices to replace and she was fully capable. Put her into a room with that woman and she was suddenly a fifteen year-old who was being gossiped about in the worst ways ever with an interest in revenge and retaliation. She had to gain some sort of control of the situation or Skeeter would have enough to try to ruin the wedding and everyone involved in that trashy magazine she wrote for now.

“Enough.” A low but firm voice spoke from beside her.

The room was instantly silent again and everyone turned to look at Cedric, including her. It was one of the few times she’d ever heard him get angry. Unlike most of the men she knew who got louder when they were upset, Cedric seemed to become quiet and forceful. One word spoken in that tone was enough to make most people realize they’d better pay attention and proved far more effective than loud yelling.

“Mister Diggory, how do you feel about being used by Miss Granger in her scheme to get Mister Potter all to herself?” Rita asked after a quick recovery, refusing to give up what she considered a juice bit of story.

“Ginny, you and Neville go check on the food. It should be arriving by now,” Cedric told them in a very authoritative voice that Hermione was somewhat surprised to discover she found rather arousing. “Uncle Rodrick, please help Luna get that man back to his home so he can sleep it off.”

“Does he have more apples?” the justice asked Luna when Uncle Rodrick stepped towards them.

“Yes, he owns an apple orchard, in fact,” Luna lied in an airy tone that was believed as well as rather forgivable.

“What is his deal with apples?” Ginny muttered as she glared at Rita but reluctantly allowed Neville to steer her from the room.

“I’ve read that there are some liquors as well as some plants that increase a desire for certain types of acids in the system. Apples happen to be one of the most easily accessed forms of one of those acids,” Neville explained to his wife as he managed to get her wand away from her.

Hermione noticed that everyone had stopped to listen to that explanation and would have laughed if Rita Skeeter hadn’t still been standing there wearing the most ostentatious hat ever imagined complete with feathers and some sort of sparkly glitter. The reporter’s attention focused on Hermione and Cedric in a predatory way that had Hermione having to resist getting her wand out and carrying through on one of those hexes that Ginny had threatened.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Cedric squeezed her hand, an action that didn’t fail to go unnoticed by beedy eyes that narrowed behind tinted spectacles. Another bright flash caused more spots and Hermione glared at the floating camera that was angled at their joined hands.

“Miss Granger, you do get around, don’t you?” Rita Skeeter said in a tone that was almost complimentary and made Hermione feel rather disgusted.

“Miss Skeeter, I would suggest that you cease in making such allegations towards Miss Granger’s character,” Cedric said calmly. Hermione was suddenly reminded of her first meeting as a Prefect when Cedric had been Head Boy. He’d commanded the room with a quiet authority that everyone, even Slytherin, had respected and adhered to.

“Isn’t this romantic?” Rita drawled in an obnoxious voice that suggested romance was equivalent with flobberworms in her estimation. “The other man steps up to defend the honor of the trollop who is simply using him to disrupt the wedding.”

Cedric’s grip tightened on her hand and she noticed a nerve in his cheek seem to pulse as he stared at Skeeter. “The only one disrupting this wedding is you with your lies and bitter personal attacks,” Hermione spoke up before he said something rash that might prove damaging to him. She knew how Rita worked, after all, and didn’t want Cedric to be the target of the poisoned quill, so to speak.


“This isn’t personal, Miss Granger. This is news,” Rita said smugly as she studied them both. “Oh, wait. I’ve got it all wrong, don’t I? Ah, even better! My readers will love this twist, of course. Mister Diggory, just how long have you been planning to steal away Miss Granger from Mister Potter? How dare you have the lack of decency to show your faces here knowing what you’d done to the poor boy?”

“Actually, Skeeter, you still keep getting it wrong. I’d have thought you’d have gotten better over the years but it seems I’m wrong.”

Hermione turned and growled when a sudden flash erupted around them. “Harry, go back to your room. We’re taking care of this.”

“I could hear her shrill voice all the way down the hall. And, no, I won’t go back to my room, Hermione.” Harry winked at her and nodded at Cedric, though she noticed his gaze narrowed when he saw how close she was standing to Cedric and the fact they were holding hands. He glanced at her and gave her a very distinct ‘We’re talking later’ look before he turned his attention to a rather unattractively sputtering Rita Skeeter.

“Potter, this woman has arrived without an invitation and proceeded to insult your guests, in particular Miss Granger,” Cedric spoke up before he looked at the quill to make sure it was documenting everything.

“And what is it that I keep getting wrong, Mister Potter?” Rita asked eagerly, practically salivating at the thought of getting a personal quote from the Harry Potter.

“There aren’t any love triangles,” Harry said bluntly before he suddenly grinned the same mischievous smile that had resulted in plenty of mishaps throughout the years. Hermione almost groaned when she saw that smile and knew, just knew, this wasn’t about to get better. Her fear was confirmed when he continued to speak. “It’s an orgy, of course.”

“Harry!” Hermione squeaked as her cheeks turned red. She elbowed Cedric when she heard him trying not to laugh at the shocked expression on Rita Skeeter’s face, which was actually quite amusing.

“It’s okay, Hermione. I think it’s time we all went public,” Harry told her as he pushed his spectacles up and sighed dramatically. Pansy was a horrible influence on him, Hermione decided in that moment. Harry would have blushed and stammered and never been able to say such a thing even jokingly before he’d gotten involved with the bold and rather daring Pansy.

“An orgy?” Rita gawked and looked from one to the other. She suddenly frowned. “I don’t appreciate being made a fool of, Mister Potter.”

“Would I ever do such a thing, Miss Skeeter?” Harry asked in mock outrage. “You see, it’s the best solution to our problem. That way, we don’t actually have to choose. We can just have wild kinky sex every week without all the jealousy and hurt feelings.”

“I can’t print that!” Rita said shrilly as she motioned for her quill to stop writing. “This is obviously a diversion because there really is a story. Tell me, Mister Potter. Are you only marrying Miss Parkinson because Miss Granger left you for Mister Diggory? Were you hurt when your alleged best friend dumped you for your former competition?”

“Actually, you won’t be printing anything,” Harry said as his amusement faded. “If I see so much as one word about Hermione or any of my guests in that column of yours, I’ll make sure you never write again. You will leave your notebook and that camera here and you’ll not speak a word of anything you’ve seen or heard here today to anyone. Do you understand?”

“You can’t do that,” Rita said smugly though it was definitely false bravado.

Harry stepped forward and Hermione resisted the urge to go stand beside him in case he needed her, knowing she could reach him if necessary and that he’d not want her involved. He was dressed for the wedding: his tuxedo was black and his shirt was a nice contrasting bright white. She almost smiled when she saw he was wearing the tie that she and Ron had given him to wear, a blue one she’d stolen from her father because even a groom deserved something borrowed, old, and blue to match his new formal attire.

“Would you like to test me, Miss Skeeter?” Harry asked casually. “You come into my wedding uninvited and stand there accusing my best friend, my sister in every way save for blood, of being a manipulative trollop and then, not yet content with your attempts to create drama, you involve another good friend because he had the bollocks to defend Hermione. Insulting Hermione is a bad enough offense that I have no qualms in doing whatever it takes to remove you from my wedding.”

“I’m sure that Miss Parkinson would be thrilled that you’re willing to go to such great lengths to protect Miss Granger’s honor,” Rita suggested in a tone that was absolutely filthy with meaning. Hermione looked at Cedric and saw that he was watching the situation carefully and that he had his wand in his hand just in case.

“Miss Parkinson would simply wonder why the annoying prat hadn’t already hexed you and kicked your arse out of our wedding by now,” Pansy said as she entered the lobby. She had a very ugly floral robe over her dress and still managed to look very pretty as she glided across the floor straight to Harry and Rita. “You do know how stressful a wedding is, Skeeter? It is enough to make one act out in fits of temporary insanity when one is disturbed by gossip-hungry vile bitches.”

“Pansy, I’m taking care of this,” Harry told her in a whisper.

“No, I’m taking care of this,” Pansy whispered back. “And stop trying to see my dress!”

“I wasn’t!” Harry denied even as he blushed and looked away at getting caught.

“Should we do something?” Cedric asked in a soft murmur against her ear.

“Stand back and watch the show?” she muttered as she turned and looked at him, smiling slightly before she focused back on Harry and the others.

“You take the quill and camera,” Pansy told Harry in a tone very akin to Hermione’s own bossiest ‘do what I say, now’ tone. Harry, well trained after being friends with Hermione since he was eleven, had adapted easily to Pansy’s nature and instantly reached for the quill. “I’ve got Skeeter.”

“Now, Miss Parkinson,” Rita hastily began to speak.

“I’m a Slytherin, Skeeter. Nothing you say matters to me. Just be glad that I’m in a generous mood because it’s my wedding or they’d never find your body. You don’t insult my bridesmaid and get away with it. Obliviate.”

“Pansy!” Harry gawked at her as he held the quill and camera. He grinned as he walked towards her and kissed her hard. “God, I love you.”

“You’d better,” Pansy replied smugly. “Now finish her off, Harry.”

Harry winked at Hermione. “Where should we send her?”

“I could give you a few suggestions,” Cedric muttered as he glared at Rita.

“Send her to Australia. They’re having a lot of issues with international visitors and will detain her for traveling without her papers,” Hermione suggested, wondering if she should feel guilty for actually participating in this before she remembered that it was Rita Skeeter.

Harry nodded and made the portkey using the awful hat Rita was wearing. Within minutes, Rita was stirring from the memory charm but she disappeared from the lobby before she had a chance to see any of them. Harry turned to look at them. “Diggory, I trust that this is our secret.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Cedric told him firmly.

“Hermione, I’ll be in my room and I anticipate lots of fawning over this,” Pansy informed her as she pulled the awful robe around her and smiled. “Diggory, you look very handsome today.”

“Stop drooling over my groomsman,” Harry told her as he rolled his eyes and grinned. “I’ll take my bride back to her room, Hermione. I’ll leave Diggory in your care.” He led Pansy from the lobby back to their rooms and Hermione doubted they’d make it back without snogging every few steps.

“Remind me to never irritate Parkinson,” Cedric said after Pansy and Harry had gone. “She’s just a bit too free with that obliviate.”

“She’s hated Rita Skeeter since that article in Witch Weekly a couple of years ago that outed Lisa Turpin. Pansy and Lisa are good friends and, well, Lisa didn’t react well to having her sexual life displayed for anyone with a few knuts that bought that trashy magazine,” Hermione explained in Pansy’s defense.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing, Granger,” Cedric told her. “I’m glad they interrupted, actually, because I was close to losing my temper.”

“Skeeter has had it in for me for years,” Hermione said with a shrug. “I can usually ignore it but I hate when she tries to bring in other people I care about. I should have expected her to try to get into the wedding but didn’t think to strengthen the wards to keep her skinny beetle arse out.”

“You okay?” he asked softly as he looked pointedly at her tense shoulders.

“I’ll be fine, Diggory,” she assured him. “Thankfully, there’s less than an hour until the ceremony. The reception will be fine because everyone will probably be too pissed to notice if anything is wrong.”

“Here, let me,” he offered as he finally released her hand and moved his hands to her shoulders. Hermione tensed even more at the feel of his warm skin against hers but for entirely different reasons than dealing with Skeeter. “Just relax, Granger. It’s been a pretty stressful afternoon and it’s not often I can show off my Quidditch-honed massage techniques.”

She sighed when he began to rub her shoulders, reaching back to pull her hair over her shoulder. “Qudditch-honed, huh?”

“Well, somewhat,” he replied as he worked his thumb deep into her skin. “I’ve only used it on sore legs before, my own in case you were curious, but it’s close enough; though I must admit that my legs don’t compare at all to your shoulders and back.”

“Are you flirting with me, Diggory?” she asked lazily.

“Maybe,” he drawled in a way that made her know he was smiling that smile again, her smile. “Is it working?”

“Maybe,” she replied before she moaned as his fingers moved over her shoulderblades. His hands stilled and she heard him inhale sharply before he cleared his throat. It still seemed rather surreal to her that Cedric Diggory was flirting with her; not just flirting but sincerely flirting in a real and not just playful intending to fluster for amusement way.

“Should we go check on the food?” His hands were now on either side of her neck and she felt his fingers lightly brushing through her hair.

“I’m sure Ginny and Neville have things under control,” she said softly, reluctant to end this moment with him.

“I know Uncle Rodrick is capable of taking care of the other justice,” he said confidently. “Is there anything else that needs to be done? I’ve been to quite a few weddings over the years but this is the first time I’ve really seen behind the scenes.”

“You’re lucky. I have far too many times,” she muttered. “Even when I’ve not been part of the wedding party, it seems that I’m the one having to rush around and make sure everything is under control.”

“And you love it.”

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.”

“You know, Granger, you’ve got a sexy back.”

“You’re incorrigible, Diggory.”

“I really prefer adorable and sexy.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Granger.”

“I prefer cold and heartless.”

“You’re not cold at all. You’re very warm, actually. Here and here.” His fingers lightly traced her shoulders and then his arms moved around her to trace her collarbone in the same gentle caress. “And you’re definitely not heartless.”

“Diggory,” she warned as she felt her belly flop around like she’d had some of the twins’ bouncing jelly beans and decided that breathing normally while Cedric was touching her was just impossible.

“Granger,” he whispered back as his hands moved down her arms and rested on her hips.

“I should go check on Pansy,” she told him, not making an effort to even pretend to step away. She gasped when she felt lips against the nape of her neck. Never before had she considered that spot a possible erogenous zone. Of course, she was beginning to suspect that Cedric Diggory could arouse her regardless of where he touched.

“You should,” he agreed in a husky tone that did not convince her to rush off to listen to Pansy ramble about how great Harry was.

“You should go check on Harry,” she said as she swayed back against him.

“I’ll do that,” Cedric said as he kissed the side of her neck.

“Right,” she murmured as she tried to focus on the draperies in the lobby as he kissed a sensitive spot beneath her ear that she had known made her weak-kneed. She’d barely noticed that the drapes were a nice shade of burnt orange before he turned her to face him. She looked up and met his gaze, but didn’t have time to think about the fact that his eyes were a darker shade of gray than she’d seen before because he lowered his head.

Then he kissed her.

Hermione had been kissed before, of course, but she couldn’t quite remember any kiss making her toes curl and her heart race so fast. Even the kisses with Ron, which had been sweet and affectionate most often, had lacked this intense rush of emotion that had her parting her lips so she could kiss back. Cedric’s lips were chapped and his nose bumped against hers awkwardly until they both adjusted their positions and were able to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t care.

It was gentle but intense, teasing but passionate, and she soon had her fingers in his hair urging him closer. One of his hands rested lightly on her back, his thumb against her bare skin above the fabric of her dress, and the other hand was in her hair, fingers tangled in the thick locks as he broke the kiss and then kissed her again. She was pressed against him, gripping his shoulder as she curled her tongue around his.

When they finally parted, she’d lost track of how many kisses they’d shared as one had drifted into another into another until she’d forgotten to count. She was happy to see that he looked as dazed as she felt and she took a moment to tug her dress back up before he saw more of her than he needed to see right now.

Of course, her inherent need to know everything that was happening forced her to speak. “Diggory, what---“

He stopped her again with his finger pressed lightly against her now rather puffy lips. She could get used to his way of shutting her up, she realized, not that she’d ever admit such a thing. “After the wedding, Granger,” he told her gruffly.

“But---“ Didn’t he realize she was impatient? It was one of her worst faults, after all, and not one she considered attractive by any means but he should know how she’d hate that suggestion. Flirting was one thing, but that kiss, God, that kiss had been something else entirely.

“Hold that thought, Granger,” he said with a slight smile. “We’ll talk after the wedding.”

“So bloody infuriating,” she muttered as she saw the stubborn set of his jaw and knew the obstinate prat wouldn’t give in to her need to understand things now and not later. She rolled her eyes when she saw the lips that she now knew from personal experience were extremely kissable curve into a smirk.

“The adorable and sexy balances the incorrigible and infuriating, though,” he told her with that cheeky smirk that made it rather difficult to stay annoyed with him.

“It’s almost time for the ceremony so you need to go wait with Harry and the others. I’m going to check on Pansy and make sure she’s ready,” she informed him without acknowledging his comment. He was already far too smug about his appeal to her, after all.

“Bossy,” he said in the same tone she used when she called him infuriating. He reached for her hand and tugged her closer. She leaned up and kissed him, catching him by surprise but he quickly recovered and returned the kiss. When they broke apart, she kissed the scar on his chin and he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

“I really do need to go,” she told him as she stepped away.

“I know. Go on, Granger. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised before he added, “well, except to check on Potter and get ready for the ceremony.”

“I’ll see you soon then, Diggory,” she said as she finally turned and left to go help Pansy. She was reluctant to leave him but honestly knew it was time to stop flirting and kissing so she could focus on her bridesmaid duties and the wedding. As he said, they’d talk after the wedding. And maybe, she thought with a rather cheeky smile of her own, there would be more kissing.

End Chapter 6