Bathwater

One Wedding and Two Rings

Hermione was crying.

She had been crying all day: when she woke up in Ginny's bed that morning, remembering the countless times they stayed up well past midnight, whispering their secret hopes to each other in a life that did not seem like theirs anymore; when she trudged up the stairs to Percy's old room to sit at the edge of the bed, her handing nudging Harry's shoulder, she cried when he flinched, pulling his wand out, pushing it against her cheek. When he settled, he muttered an apology, retrieving his glasses before he wiped her tears away, telling her he did not mean to frighten her. But that was not why Hermione had cried; her heart broke at the damaged parts of his mind the war had left behind, but also out of relief for the future it did not take away. After helping Mrs. Weasley with last-minute changes to the flowers, Hermione cried when Mrs. Weasley gave an approving nod; the war had taken one of her sons, but she still stood strong, breathed every day for the children she did have. After slipping into a beautiful, silk, pale-blue dress, Hermione cried when she opened Ginny's bedroom door and saw her in white.

"Enough with the crying, Granger," grunted Pansy as she pushed past her to get into the room, several makeup brushes floating behind her. "If I have to retouch your mascara a third time, I'm just going to curse off all of your eyelashes. Do not test me."

"Ah, there it is," said Ginny with a happy sigh, closing her eyes so Pansy could apply a wash of glitter on her eyelids. From where Hermione stood next to Luna, there was a reflective sheen that matched the icy, pale-blue shade of their dresses. "It isn't a Weasley wedding unless someone threatens a maid of honor. Remember when I had to scare petite Gabrielle from trying to use her veela-ness on Harry?"

Hermione took a deep breath, patting her cheeks with the bottom of her palms to dry the few tears that had dared to defy Pansy Parkinson. Although she was not the least bit unnerved by the Slytherin witch, Hermione understood what she was trying to do for Ginny. Pansy wanted everything to be perfect: the wedding dress, her hair and makeup, the maid of honor's hair and makeup, the bridesmaids', her mother's, and even Ron, who had slept in while everyone else scrambled to get started for the special day. If Pansy had all of that under control, then Ginny only had to worry about meeting Harry at the other side of the altar.

As maid of honor, of course, Hermione had checked ten times over that everything was running as it needed to be. When Pansy had arrived at the Burrow with a clipboard of her own, checking things off as she moved about, Hermione bit her tongue from reminding her she had taken care of everything already. After all, she understood what it meant for Pansy that she had been asked to be a bridesmaid. 

Whereas Pansy's wealth came from stacks of gold, the Weasleys were rich in the people they called their own. She had never known that type of wealth; affection and loyalty were things she lacked, but it was what Ginny extended out when she asked Pansy to be a part of her wedding. It was not because she was Ron's inevitable spouse, but because Pansy had earned the family's loyalty. 

They had seen what she had done for Ron in a few weeks. 

"You really do look beautiful, Ginny," said Luna with a smile breaking past the sad glitter in her blue eyes. "Like Occamy eggs before they hatch."

"Thanks. I think?" said Ginny with a grin, opening her eyes as Pansy's next brush dusted pink on her cheeks. "You look beautiful, too, Lu. I thought you were going to wear the lion's head?"

"Pansy warned me not to," said Luna, rocking slightly on her bare feet. "I thought it was fitting, but if it's a Weasley tradition for your bridesmaids to get threatened, I will happily be intimidated."

Ginny turned narrowed eyes at Pansy, but the latter only scoffed. She knew Ginny would have not cared if all of her guests showed up in costumes, naked, or sporting giant lion heads, but Mrs. Weasley had asked her to make sure Luna left the head in a closet. And that was exactly what Pansy did.