Always a Bridesmaid

By the time Hermione reached the room that had been set up for the bride’s preparation, she had given herself a mental talking to and was focused on the wedding ceremony. She wasn’t completely focused, of course, as there was no possible way anyone could be kissed by Cedric Diggory and immediately focus on something else. That was one experiment she did not want to conduct, she decided as the idea of Cedric kissing a long line of women had her gaze narrowed and a slight scowl on her lips.

Great. Not only was she becoming some warped version of herself with all the flirting and sneaking glances and feminine urges long hidden (or at least ignored very well), but she was becoming a jealous and possessive warped flirting female. How did women handle this sort of thing every day? She just couldn’t imagine feeling this flustered and confused all the bloody time.

She squared her shoulders and put on her most no-nonsense we-must-get-ready-for-the-ceremony face before she opened the door and went inside. Pansy was in her room, thankfully. For a brief moment, Hermione had wondered if the bride and groom weren’t still somewhere secluded snogging one another. She refused to think of either of them doing more than snogging because, well, Harry was like her brother and some things just made her go eeew; him shagging someone was near the top of that list.

Of course, as was proving the case on this odd, wonderful, confusing, flustering day that she couldn’t quite control at all, she should have been more prepared to face Pansy. Instead of grimacing at the idea of Harry and Pansy shagging in some cloakroom, she should have had her strongest ‘you know I won’t talk about personal things with you so don’t even ask’ walls up. She was banishing images of Harry’s bony arse from her mind as she closed the door and Pansy, sneaky bitch that she was, took total advantage of her distraction to lodge a full open attack.

“You kissed him!”

Hermione, whose mind was unfortunately still on Harry, blinked stupidly and made a face. “I did not!” she denied as she tugged her dress back up and discreetly fixed her hair where Cedric’s fingers had just been running through it. “Kisses on the cheek and one snog beneath mistletoe when we were twenty is it, thank you very much. I have to say, by the way, that I do hope he’s a better kisser now because that snog wasn’t very good.”

Pansy’s triumphant smirk faded and she just looked confused. “Diggory is a bad kisser?”

“What?” Hermione squeaked as her cheeks decided then to flood with color.

“Ah-ha!” Pansy was once again triumphant and far too smug. “What are you on about, Hermione? Have you been having a bit of firewhisky before the ceremony? Let me smell your breath.”

“I haven’t been drinking,” she said firmly. “I thought you were talking about Harry.”

“Why would I be talking about you kissing my future husband? Besides, that’s just really rather incestuous,” Pansy pointed out with a slight grimace.

“Exactly,” Hermione agreed as she walked over to the vanity and picked up the brush. “Now that that’s decided, let me fix your hair.”

“Nothing is decided,” she said with a put-upon sigh. “He kissed you or maybe you kissed him because we both know you’re a wildcat beneath that prim and fussy exterior, or at least a potential-wildcat.”

“Your hair, Pansy?” Hermione tapped her foot impatiently and did her best to ignore the accusation that she was a wildcat, whatever the bloody hell that meant, and certainly pretending she had no idea what kissing Pansy wanted to discuss.

Pansy stood up and moved to sit in the chair by the vanity so Hermione could fix her hair. “Is he a good kisser?”

“Can we stop talking about kissing and focus on the wedding?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, your blush is all the answer I need. I thought you looked very properly snogged.”

“Yes, Diggory kissed me. Yes, it was very good. No, there wasn’t any groping,” she added when she saw Pansy open her mouth, predicting her next question before it could be asked. Pansy pouted but seemed pleased by the particular shade of red that Hermione’s face had become.

“Very good, huh?” Pansy teased as she wiggled her eyebrows up and down while leering. “Maybe you should do a bit of groping. He’s right fit, you know?”

“It would serve you right if I just left your hair like this,” Hermione muttered as she set about fixing what Harry’s fingers had most likely mussed up. Pansy simply smiled and changed the subject when it was obvious she’d get no further reaction from Hermione regarding kissing or groping Cedric Diggory.

After Pansy was ready, Hermione fixed her own mussed hair and then straightened her stockings. When she noticed that Pansy was looking decidedly more nervous as the minutes ticked by, she smiled and began to share past wedding stories. The knock on the door came as Pansy was snickering about Lavender’s cousin Scott who had the misfortune of setting the drapes on fire after drinking an entire bottle of firewhisky.

Hermione stood up and smoothed out her dress and then helped Pansy stand. “It’s time,” she said softly before she gave Pansy a hug. “You look beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say it like it’s a surprise,” Pansy murmured nervously. “What if I trip? All those people are going to be staring at me and you damn well know that half of them don’t think I’m good enough for Harry.”

“More like a quarter of them,” Hermione corrected with a gentle smile. “Another quarter don’t think he’s good enough for you and the remaining half know you’re perfect for each other.”

“You know, this is when you should lie and tell me everyone is thrilled about the wedding,” Pansy confided with a grin. “If I didn’t admire your blunt honesty, I think I’d find you very annoying, Hermione.”

“Well, if I didn’t like the way you made Harry so happy, I’d think you were a rude bitch,” Hermione said with a wink. “Oh, wait, you’re still a rude bitch.”

“And you’re still annoying,” Pansy replied as she smacked her arm playfully, looking far less anxious than she had a few minutes ago.

Hermione picked up the bridal bouquet and gave it to Pansy, making sure her veil was perfect and then fluffing out the skirt of the dress. Once she was certain that she’d not forgotten anything, she picked up her own bouquet of flowers and smiled. “Let’s do this.”

They left the room and headed towards the door that led out to the gardens, where the ceremony was being held. A quick glance outside confirmed that it was still sunny and beautiful. A perfect day for a wedding, she realized. Pansy gripped her hand tightly and peered around her to peek outside.

“He looks handsome, doesn’t he?” Pansy asked in a hushed whisper.

Hermione looked out and her gaze immediately rested on Cedric, who was standing opposite Luna. He was wearing a tuxedo like Harry’s and had found the coat of it since they’d parted in the lobby. His tie was the same shade as her dress, which had her smiling at his charm casting since it had been a soft yellow when she’d seen it loose around his neck in the hallway. The sun caught the natural highlights in his hair and the disheveled locks looked even more attractive now that she knew what they felt like beneath her fingers.

“Very handsome,” she whispered as he shifted uncomfortably and smiled at Neville.

“Stop drooling over Diggory, Hermione. I meant my Harry,” Pansy said with a nudge to Hermione’s side.

“I’m not drooling,” Hermione denied as she straightened up at the music’s cue. “Ready?”

“You were, too. And I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Pansy decided as she finally released Hermione’s hand. “So I just walk straight and repeat the words?”

“Focus on Harry,” Hermione suggested. “If you ignore everything else and just focus on him, you’ll make it down the aisle fine. You repeat the vows and then kiss and it’s all done.”

She hated this part of the wedding. It was the worst part of being a bridesmaid by far. The walk down the aisle with everyone staring was awkward and rather uncomfortable. Still, Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder, held her head high, and stepped outside when Vince and Dean opened the doors.

You won’t trip. You won’t trip. The words repeated in her mind as she began to walk. Unconsciously, her gaze met Cedric’s and she was startled to see him staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She smiled at him as she walked, not even noticing who had accepted their invitations with the nosy curiosity that normally had her scanning the crowd and making a mental list to provide the bride after the ceremony and before the reception.

Soft gasps and whispers indicated that Pansy was outside. Pansy’s father hadn’t survived the war so she was walking down the aisle unescorted, which Hermione knew must make her even more anxious since she didn’t have someone’s arm to hold if she was nervous. Cedric glanced at Pansy but his gaze returned to Hermione and he didn’t look away even after she finally arrived at the front.

Hermione stepped past him, giving him a shy smile and blushing slightly at the intense way he was still looking at her. She moved into place and turned to watch Pansy walk the rest of the way. Ron was opposite her and she was pleased to notice that he didn’t look as worried as he had that morning. He was the best man and she could tell he hated the formal tuxedo from the way he fidgeted slightly. She gave him a look and he grinned sheepishly before winking at her.

She rolled her eyes and snuck a glance at Cedric, who was standing behind Neville. He mouthed, ‘You look beautiful, Granger’, and managed to make her blush as she smiled a very un-Hermione-like feminine smile.

‘So do you, Diggory,’ she mouthed back discreetly so no guests would notice their silent exchange. She saw Ron scowling slightly as his gaze moved from her to Cedric, a ginger brow arched as he gave her a look very similar to Harry’s earlier that indicated she’d be answering some questions about a certain Mister Diggory if Ron had his way.

While she appreciated that Harry and Ron liked to look out for her, they seemed to forget that she was the eldest and had spent most of their friendship looking out for them. They both liked Cedric, but that was when he was playing a scrimmage Quidditch match on a weekend or attending this party or that. She wasn’t sure what they’d think of her and Cedric, well, she wasn’t sure if they might date or just enjoy a few more kisses at the wedding, but she thought that dating and possibly more was in their future. There was a big difference in hanging out with a bloke or watching him flirt at a party versus consenting to him dating your surrogate sister, not that she needed her friend’s consent for such a thing. It was her life, after all, and she knew as she snuck another glance at Cedric that she wanted to explore the possibilities with him.

Pansy finally arrived at the front and Hermione was convinced she must have taken baby steps down the aisle because it took her so long. Of course, it always seemed to take the bride a long time to walk so maybe it was something in the wedding dress that prevented them from actually walking normally.

There was something about weddings that made the internal cynic within shut up and let out the closet romantic that Hermione always kept carefully hidden. The vows were standard and unoriginal but hearing them spoken by her best friend and the woman he loved made them sound unique this time. Several times during the ceremony, she glanced slightly behind her and met Cedric’s gaze before she’d once again focus on the vows being exchanged.

By the time Harry kissed Pansy, her eyes were damp and she was smiling in a very sappy way that she’d deny. She noticed Ron discreetly wipe his face; he always cried at weddings in a way she found sweetly adorable. They shared a smile as their Harry got married before they looked back to the newly married couple.

Uncle Rodrick waited to speak again until they were finished kissing, a soft romantic kiss that made Hermione sigh enviously and think of Cedric at the same time. Her gaze met his again and he smiled in a way that had her smiling in return. It was then that she heard Uncle Rodrick announce, “I present to you Harry and Pansy Potter.”

Hermione looked at her friends and mouthed, ‘I love you’, to Harry and he, being Harry, forgot about what was expected behavior and crossed in front of Pansy to give her a huge hug.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against her hair as he nearly crushed her to death. She felt more arms around her.

“Not fair,” Ron murmured as he hugged them both. “I want a hug, too.”

Harry laughed as he stepped back and the three of them shared a moment that no one else would ever truly understand. They’d done the same thing at Ron’s wedding, though then they’d at least waited until the reception before having this private moment as they held hands and just rested their heads together in a three-sided triangle.

Hermione looked at Pansy and saw understanding in her gaze, thankful that Harry had found someone who knew him so well. She squeezed Harry and Ron’s hands and then pushed Harry back to his bride. Pansy smiled as she hugged him, kissing his cheek before she took his hand and led him down the aisle.

“Trust Harry to never do anything the way it should be done,” Ron murmured with an affectionate smile as he took her arm and they followed the newlyweds.

“He wouldn’t be our Harry if he did,” she whispered, catching Cedric’s gaze and sharing a smile with him before she and Ron walked back down the aisle to follow Harry and Pansy to the reception area.

“That’s true, I guess,” Ron replied in a low whisper. He grinned at her. “You look gorgeous in that dress, Hermione, but I keep feeling the urge to take off my coat and cover you up so these blokes can’t leer at your tits.”

“Ronald,” she hissed as she elbowed his side as discreetly as possible.

“No injuring the best man,” he scolded with a playful smile. “You just look cold; right, very cold in an ‘I need to borrow your coat, Ron, to cover up my tits’ sort of way. Didn’t you know that single blokes go to weddings so they can be lecherous wankers?”

“Can we please stop discussing my cleavage?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t know. It’s kinda fun to annoy you,” Ron reminded her with a wink.

“You’re a married man, Ronald Weasley,” she said primly, watching as the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Doesn’t mean I’m dead,” he informed her. “Besides, Luna thinks you have nice tits, too.”

“You’ve discussed my breasts with your wife?” she asked in a rather shocked tone, torn between being disturbed and amused.

“Not like that,” Ron sputtered as his entire face soon matched his ears. “God, Hermione. That’s just wrong on so many levels. It was one night when we were a bit pissed and talking about---“

“That’s okay, Ron. I really don’t want to know,” she assured him before he stammered out some odd-Ron-Luna-like explanation.

“Thank God,” he murmured as he looked at her with a sheepish smile.

It was impossible to maintain a straight face. She bit her lip to keep from snickering and he grinned before he finally just laughed softly. She bumped her hip against his and he squeezed her hand and then they both just laughed. Thankfully, they’d already made their way down the aisle and were nearly at the area set up for the reception before they were giggling and snickering like teens instead of adults nearing their thirties.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked as she and Neville caught up to them.

“Ron just told me a funny joke,” Hermione explained smoothly.

“Ron told it and it was funny?” Ginny looked disbelieving as she stared at her brother. “What was it?”

“I don’t remember now,” Ron said with a blank stare that he often used as a means of diversion. Once again, it proved successful.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Ginny muttered as she rolled her eyes. “Do you think we can get the first dance out of the way now? I’m hungry. That fish that the pub sent up smells delicious, oh my God, Hermione, I’m going to eat it all!”

Hermione turned to look at Cedric, rolling her eyes but smiling when he winked at her. “Yes, I say we get the first dance finished so the party can really get started.”

Harry nodded and motioned for the music to start. He escorted Pansy onto the dance floor and began to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Hermione and Ron joined them when it was time, followed by Neville and Ginny and then by Luna and Cedric. She heard Pansy laughing as Harry twirled her and watched them for a moment, pleased to see Harry so very happy.

Hermione generally liked to dance and didn’t even mind that Ron was rather awful at it, easily dodging his missteps and twirling before he could step on her feet. Her feet were still rather sore but not nearly as bad as they could have been; being carried had helped out in that area quite a bit. Soon the song was over and another began with more people joining them on the dance floor.

“Hey, Granger,” Cedric said as he and Luna joined them. Luna took Ron’s hand and began to dance with him while Cedric moved in front of Hermione. He grinned down at her as he reached up to gently brush her hair away from her face. “I seem to recall you promising me a dance or several.”

“I seem to remember promising one dance,” she mused as she smiled up at him. “More than that might require further negotiations.”

“Perhaps a kiss for each dance?” he offered as if it were a great sacrifice. “It would be a tough price to pay, of course, but I suppose I could manage.”

“A very tough price to pay,” she agreed with a teasing smile as she took his hand and moved closer to him, swaying slightly to the music.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips gently against hers. She knew they both wanted more as they reluctantly separated but it wasn’t the time or the place for the kind of kisses they wanted to share. “For the first dance,” he told her with that slight smirk that made her tummy flip as he moved his fingers into her hair and let his other hand rest on the small of the back.

“Very noble of you,” she complimented as she moved her arm over his shoulder and the other around his waist, her fingers toying with the ends of his hair that brushed against his collar as they danced.

“I try,” he told her in a modest tone that was ruined by his cheeky grin. Their gazes met and the teasing expression faded. He suddenly looked uncertain as he bit his lip in a very adorable way before he caressed her cheek and asked, “Granger, would you save the last dance for me?”

“The last dance is yours, Diggory,” she promised softly as she leaned up and brushed a kiss against the scar on his chin before she settled into his arms for the dance. And any dance in between.

End Chapter 7.