Chapter 2
Neville and Pansy’s wedding was extravagantly elegant in its simplicity. Boughs of fir, with mistletoe, and
candles centered the tables. The Bride and Groom look joyous as they said their vows and bound their
lives and magic. Sweet Elf-wine and Champagne was overflowing from coups and the guests danced and
danced.
Hermione sighed. She was looking forward to sitting back at her table at last after her dance with Harry.
Pansy had insisted on choosing Hermione’s outfit for the wedding, something about her “vision couldn’t
be ruined by frumpy Gryffindors”. The dress of blue-black velvet was tight, had a sweetheart neckline,
and dipped low in the back with a high slit on one side. She wore gold four-inch strappy heels that she
barely could walk in when she tried them on. Pansy had taught her cushioning and balancing charms
with an eye roll. “Brightest witch of our age couldn’t be bothered to lookup spells to make her life
easier” she had snarked. The cushioning charm was beginning to wear off.
“Granger, would you care to dance?” Malfoy had snuck up on her while she had zoned out. She gazed
up at him noticing how tall he had grown how he looked uncomfortably fit.
“Oi Ferret-face leave ‘Mione alone.” How did Ron always have the worst timing? He had tried to steal
her away when she was dancing earlier with Seamus Finnegan.
“My apologies, Granger,” Malfoy said with a quirked smile, turned, and left.
“Ron, I can handle myself,” Hermione reminded Ron.
“I can’t believe everyone is willing to pretend that he isn’t death eater scum. He let the rest of his bloody
death eater friends into Hogwarts for Merlin’s sake” Ron’s anger always returned when he was drinking
heavily. Ron’s drinking was a contributing factor to their breakup that Hermione kept to herself. It made
his words cruel and he forgot his strength. Another factor was his inability to understand why she did not like his nickname for her. In the end, Hermione had taken the easy out and blamed the schedule
mismatch. Ron was convinced that they would end up together in the end. He said he would change.
She regretted her moment of cowardice every time he looked at her with forlorn hopeful eyes.
“Come on let’s dance ‘Mione” Ron grabbed her right wrist with more force than he knew. She grimaced
from the pain. Ron misinterpreted her expression “Why do you always act like such a cunt!? Why won’t
you act like you want to be my fucking girlfriend?”
“Ron please stop,” Hermione softly tried. “You are embarrass…”
“You know what I’m fucking done waiting on you to get the stick out of your ass! I have witches falling
all over me and I don’t know why I’m waiting for your fucking golden cunt! You frigid bitch!” Ron’s
bellowing had attracted everyone’s attention. He still had her wrist in vice grip, and she tried futilely to
pull away.
“Ron, mate, let Hermione go,” Harry came up and gently put his hand on Ron’s elbow.
Ron dropped her wrist spun around and stormed towards the floo. “You two always chose each other! It
is the Forrest of Dean all over again! Fine! She’s all yours Harry. You couldn’t just be happy with my
sister you needed my ‘Mione too! I’m done with you two!”
Harry looked at her, “Are you alright?” She smiled wanly. “I will be. You should go after him.”
“George is already heading there; let me see your wrist.” Harry had his patient Auror voice out as he
drew her towards a quiet corner. Ginny and Luna briefly touched Hermione’s shoulders on their way to
distract everyone. The party slowly started to regain noise.
“Let me see your wrist Hermione.” Harry said again and Hermione realized she had it clutched close to
her chest. Her left hand protecting her throbbing wrist. She stared at Harry without moving.
A man’s quiet voice came up, “Hey, I’m Theo Nott. I don’t know if you remember me. I was in your year
at Hogwarts. I’m a healer at St Mungo’s now. Do you need help?”
“Oh hey Nott.” Harry replied. “Her wrist seems hurt.” Hermione slowly released her wrist into Nott’s
gentle hand. He muttered a quiet diagnostic spell.
“Nothing is broken, but it will bruise badly.” He cast a cooling anesthetic charm. “I don’t have any bruise
paste on me unfortunately, but you should pick some up from an apothecary when you get the chance.”
Hermione blinked down at the darkening hand shaped red marks on her wrist. “Do you need an incident
report?” Nott asked Harry. Hermione did not hear Harry’s response. Ginny returned and helped
Hermione to the floo. They took her to Grimwald’s Place and gave her a dreamless sleep potion.
Hermione felt her eyes close and slept.
**
“Are you going to report him?” Harry felt his wife’s arms wrap around him in their bed. She had checked
that Hermione was sleeping, and snuggled against him.
“It’s not the first time, Gin. She’s tried to brush it off before.” Harry morosely wondered if it was his fault
for letting Hermione bury it before. “I should’ve made her report it, after Christmas. When he wouldn’t
let her leave his side on the couch and George had to drug him so she could leave”
“I had hoped that the ‘break’ would makes things calm down. He needs to stop drinking” Ginny had
begun to tear up. When had it turned this bad? The Potters held each other as they drifted off into
troubled sleep.