The Nearly Perfect Beginning

HERMIONE, the night before

Fred and George Weasley were standing next to Harry at the alter, waiting for her to come down the aisle in her Muggle wedding dress that was her mother's. Suddenly Fred pulled out the fake wand she had used on Harry, now back into its shape of a Muggle crayon, and put his son Max on the floor. Max crawled over and began to color her dress. Screaming, she ran away, everyone laughing at her...

Trembling, Hermione pulled the covers up over her nightgown. 'Why,' she asked herself, 'would I dream my mum's dress was being attacked by Max with a crayon?' Laughing nervously, she went to the mirror. 'I guess I'm just nervous about the wedding.'

"Of course," she admitted to herself, "Fred and George at any wedding is enough to make me nervous."

Tomorrow was the big day, and Hermione was trying her best to remain composed. It wasn't working. Maybe, she thought, if I review my list, I'll be fine.

Pulling out a piece of sage green parchment, she began going over everything, wandering to each part of the house as she thought of where it would be.

"Cake, check," she muttered, opening the door of the fridge to reveal a two-tier cake trimmed with sage green ribbon and decorated with little red roses.

"Strawberry and blueberry tarts, check," she said giddily, looking at the mini-tarts sitting on crystal trays her mother had lent her.

"Sparkling wine from France, check," she smiled. When Harry had asked her why it was necessary to import the wine for their wedding, she had whined until he'd given in. Good thing it didn't take very long, she grinned. Otherwise I would have run out of energy.

"Soda, check," she muttered. She didn't want Fred and George to grumble about constant wine drinking, so she had sent Harry to the store yesterday to buy soda.

"Mini champagne cups, check," she whispered, pulling them out of the cupboard. Since the cups were smaller, the men would drink less, or so she hoped. Can't have the groomsmen getting drunk, she thought, ...Sirius and Ron, especially...

"Cake stand, check," she grumbled. So many things for the wedding, so little time...

HARRY, the night before

Harry, meanwhile, hadn't been able to sleep at all. He'd been tracing the same route on Ron's wooden floor for over two hours after everyone had gone to bed.

'Am I ready to marry Hermione?' he thought to himself. He turned to ask Ron.

"Hey, Ron, do you think...are you sleeping?" Sure enough, Ron was rolled over on his Chudley Cannons bedspread that he still had, snoring like a freight train. Groaning, Harry discontinued the question. Suddenly, he had an idea.

Picking up his Firebolt 2150, Harry tiptoed out the back door. Anything to keep his mind off his marriage tomorrow.

He walked slowly out to the field by the Weasley home, expecting to be alone. Instead, he found Fred and George throwing a stone at each other while sitting on their broomsticks, trying to unseat each other.

Kicking off, Harry glided over to them. "Hey, Forge, Gred," he grinned.

"Oh, hey, Harry," Fred said, patting him on the back. "Nervous?"

"Of course, but it's starting to get ridiculous. I've been pacing the same spot on the floor for a good two hours now."

"Don't worry, mate," George reassured him. "When Fred married Angelina, I thought I was going to kill him, he was driving me so insane."

"Shut up, George. You weren't any better with you and Katie's wedding day. I thought you were going to give me an excuse to use a Silencing Charm on you."

"Anyway," Harry cleared his throat, and then all three started laughing.

"Let's go for a fly," Fred suggested.

Harry nodded, and the three set off into the night. But as they did...

"You know, it's a shame you couldn't marry Ginny," George said.

"George..." Harry said warningly.

HERMIONE, the morning of

"Oh, Carisa, I'm so nervous," Hermione squeaked. Carisa was Hermione's younger cousin, who had been discovered to be a Muggle-born witch right before Hermione's third year. Of course, Hermione hadn't told Harry this until Carisa was sixteen years old and Harry was invited to the party.

"Herm," she said knowingly. "It's all right. Harry loves you to death! If he didn't, we wouldn't be standing here right now." Carisa, now 22, was dating Oliver Wood, the 28-year old Keeper for the Puddlemere Reserve Team. Harry had taken her to a Quidditch match with them and it had been love at almost first sight. Smiling, Hermione focused on her own wedding.

"Well, that's easy for you to say, Miss I-Date-Older-Men," she teased.

"Excuse me, Scarlet Woman," Carisa shot back with a laugh.

"Don't remind me." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we've got to set up before I get into my dress." Hermione had rented a cottage on the Atlantic coast of France. Hermione had insisted on France, since she still remembered her trip there when she was thirteen, plus she and Harry had gone there over winter break to spend Christmas in Paris. Harry had relented, remembering how much love they had shared there.

"Oh, right!" Carisa suddenly yelped. Running to the kitchen, she pulled out the trays of tarts and took them out to the portable tables Mrs. Weasley had sent Hermione as a wedding present.

Now Hermione had to be the calm one. "Carisa, slow down, we've got four hours until the wedding," she said reassuringly. Carisa looked out from behind the refridgerator door, where hundred of appetizers sat on little silver trays. The caterer had delivered them this morning right after Hermione woke up.

"Well, you know, that dress Aunt Iris sent you is a bit complex," Carisa pointed out, referring to Hermione's mum.

"That's true. Let me help you," Hermione said, reaching for the tray Carisa had. Each tugged on it, until...

"Ack!" Hermione yelled as the appetizers fell to the floor. "No big deal," Carisa smiled. "Duplicato!" she said as she pointed at one of the appetizers. "I picked it up in Wizarding Homemaking Class." When she had enough, Carisa simply said, "Stoplo!" and the appetizers quit reproducing. Sorting them out, Carisa deftly arranged them and took them out to the tables. At least we're having it in the garden, Hermione thought. It will hold more than enough people.

"All right, Herm," Carisa smiled. "Let's get you ready. Ginny, Susan, Lavender, Luella, and Natalie, can you set up , please? The maid of honor is going to help our lovely bride get ready." The five girls, all of whom had been sitting on the sofa, got up and started to go through the kitchen, pulling out food, decorations, and Harry and Hermione's guest book, cake knife, and goblets. Leading her upstairs, Carisa pulled out her wand, ready to set to work on Hermione's hair.

"All right, glad you don't need Sleekeazy's anymore-"

"Hey!" Hermione protested.

Ignoring her, Carisa went on. "Now, I learned in Wizarding Homemaking that a French braid is-"

"I know it would be easier to use magic," Hermione started. "But I'd rather-"

"Do it the Muggle way?" she asked. Hermione nodded.

"Okay, if we're going to do it the Muggle way, we're going to have to put on your dress first."

"Alright." Carisa went to the small closet in the smallest bedroom in the cottage, where they were getting ready, and pulled out Hermione's mum's dress. Every time they saw it, it still took their breath away, it was so beautiful.

The top was an off-the-shoulder corset-like top, made from ivory satin and trimmed with delicate Irish lace. The skirt was slim, but open enough so that it was easy to walk in, and the bottom fanned out at the back, producing a small train. This train could then be attached to a matching lace cuff and put around the bride's wrist comfortably.

Sighing happily, Hermione pulled off her top and let Carisa pull the top on. "Now, don't lace it too tightly," she warned.

"Don't worry, I won't," she reassured. Feeling a slight pull, Hermione pulled in her stomach and let Carisa tighten the laces. "All right, I'm done. Just pull on your skirt."

"Um..." Hermione hinted.

"Oh, sorry, of course I'll help you," she laughed, shaking her head. Hermione quickly slid out of her flowered skirt and let Carisa unzip the old fashioned skirt. Both pulled it up as gently as possible, so they wouldn't damage it, and Carisa hid the lace bracelet in its proper place, on a little button inside the train. Hermione was able to zip the back on her own, and both looked into the mirror on the opposite wall. Carisa leaned on her shoulder and sighed.

"Just like a fairy-tale princess," she smiled.

"Thanks, Cari," she smiled, giving her cousin a kiss on the cheek. "Don't thank me just yet," she laughed. "Who knows what I might accidentally do to your hair!" Both girls fell on the bed, laughing.

HARRY, the morning of

Harry paced Ron's room again, running a hole in the orange rug Ron had bought last year.

"Do you mind?" Ron asked in mock indignence. "I'd like to keep that rug for at least two more hours before you kill it with your endless pacing."

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry snapped. "You weren't even awake when I needed you most."

"At two in the morning, Harry?" he asked. "Honestly, Harry, you think I was really going to be awake? Lavender and I aren't even engaged yet."

"Sorry, sorry," Harry muttered. He was mad at himself. He could handle facing the Hungarian Horntail and Lord Voldemort almost calmly, yet he couldn't really get married without being a pile of nerves?

"Just pretend it's a Quidditch match, mate," Ron said to him. "You never know, it might work."

"And when the Minister of Magic says, "Do you, Harry, promise to love and respect Hermione Ava Granger, to comfort her and care for her at all costs, and to give every ounce of yourself to this woman? and say, 'I'll catch the Golden Snitch?' Ah, no thanks on that one." Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"All right, you're in your tux," he noted, looking Harry up and down. "But your bow tie is crooked." Ron came over and straightened it for him.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said with a grin.

"No problem, mate. Can't have you look like an idiot at your own wedding." "No, I mean for being there...and convincing me to ask Hermie to marry me." "You're welcome, Harry. Least I could do for my best friend."[A/N: at this point all of the girls sigh happily...well, me anyway]

"All right, now let's go get your boutineer from Dad and then you'll be ready." Both headed down the stairs, unable to control their nerves.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Harry said.

"Oh, hello, Harry," he smiled. "Let's pin this on before the flowers get slightly imperfect and Mrs. Weasley has a heart attack."

"What will I do?" Mrs Weasley asked as she came down the stairs. Apparently she had caught 'Mrs. Weasley' but not the latter part. Mr. Weasley's ears turned red.

"Nothing dear, nothing," Mr. Weasley mumbled, looking at Harry.

"Here, dear, let me get that," Mrs. Weasley said tenderly to Harry. Mrs. Weasley was almost Mother of the Groom to Harry, but he, thinking of his parents, had decided to leave two seats empty in the front row. One would say, "Here is where Lily Virginia Potter should be seated," and the other, "This is where James Runin Potter should be seated." It comforted Harry to know that their spirits, unseeable to him or anyone else, would be there.

"Ready to Apparate, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yes, let's go."

"Come along, Ron, Molly." Turning, Mr. Weasley called up the stairwell, "Come on, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill!" There was a large clatter from the stairs, and down came five men, looking ready to leave.

"Come on!" Harry said impatiently.

"All right, Harry, calm down!" Fred yelled.

"It's okay, Harry," Bill said. "We'll be there before you know it."

Bill was right. For, in a flash, all of them were gone.

BOTH, at the ceremony

Hermione looked out the window nervously for Harry. "Where is he?" she asked Ginny. "I don't know, 'Mione," Ginny replied honestly. "Where's Draco?"

"How should I know THAT, Ginny, if I can't even find Harry?" Hermione was getting snippier by the second.

"All right, all right, I'll go look for him myself," she grumbled as she put her comb in her hair, the new one that had fresh red roses on it. Swishing her sage green dress , she went through the crowd to find him.

"Are you going to go look for Oliver?" Hermione asked Carisa.

"I'd like to, but I'll stick with you. I am maid of honor, after all."

"Thanks, dear," Hermione said softly.

"You're welcome," Carisa returned.

Harry arrived on the scene, looking around for the bridesmaids. "Where is Hermione?" he asked Ginny, who happened to walk by him.

"Harry, you prat, she's inside. You're not supposed to see her until the ceremony. She's inside, but don't go in. She's in a snappy sort of mood."

"Thanks, Gin," he called as she left. "All right, Hermie, let's get ready to rumble," he said to himself as Mr. Weasley called him to his place.

"Hermione," Natalie said softly from the back door, "they're ready for us."

"Coming," Hermione returned with a nervous smile. She turned to her

mother, who had arrived a little over an hour ago. "Are you ready, Mum?"

she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be, my little Ava," she smiled.

"All right, Dad, are you ready?"

"Definitely, Hermie," he said jovially.

"Then let's go."

Harry stood by the alter, waiting for Hermione to come. The ceremony was being held by the ocean side, so he listened to the crashing of the Atlantic Ocean to comfort him.

Suddenly an orchestra began to play. Turning, he looked out at the now white-carpeted grass serving as the aisle.

First Natalie walked up, beaming with joy that a girl she knew well was getting married. She gave Harry a smile before taking her place at the far edge of the front row.

Following Natalie were, in order, Lavender (who gave Ron one of her adoring smiles as she passed by), Susan Bones, Ginny, and, at last, the maid of honor.

Hermione's younger cousin Carisa came up the aisle with a grace that made her easy to identify as a relative of Hermione's. She had those same warm brown eyes, but red hair. She stood relatively close to Harry, and smiled out at Oliver, who was on the groom's side. Harry knew what was coming next.

The bridal march began to play. All of the guests stood, looking down the aisle. There was Hermione, looking more beautiful than Harry had ever seen her. Her hair was curled, and she was wearing her mother's wedding dress, as Hermione had told him she would. Her mum was standing on one side of her, and her dad on the other. Both were looking proudly at their elated little girl.

Kissing both of her cheeks, Hermione's parents took a seat. Then, the ceremony began.

Hermione's mind was skipping the "Speak now or forever hold your peace" and all of the stuff that came before the rings and exchanging of vows. Suddenly, there it was.

Harry looked up at Hermione as the Minister began the exchanging of the vows. "Do you, Harry James Potter, take Hermione Ava Granger to be your wife, to have and to hold, to love and respect, to cherish and forsake all others before her for as long as you both shall live?" Harry put his heart into his answer.

"I do," he said meaningfully. Hermione gave him a cherished smile with tears in her eyes.

Hermione began to cry softly as the Minister came to her. "And do you, Hermione Ava Granger, take Harry James Potter to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love and respect, to cherish and forsake all others before him for as long as you both shall live?" Teary-eyed, Hermione gave her answer.

"I do."

"And now, for the exchanging of the rings. Harry, repeat after me as you slide this ring on Hermione's finger." Harry leaned to Ron.

"Can I have the ring, please?" he muttered.

"Oh, right!" Ron mumbled. "Come on, you annoying little bugger," he said, digging in his tux pocket.

"You better not have lost it, Ronald," Harry said, almost panicking.

Ron glared at him for using his full name. "Here it is," he said, pulling out the gold wedding band.

"With this ring-" the Minister said.

"With this ring-" Harry repeated.

"As a token of my love and affection-"

"As a token of my love and affection-"

"I thee wed."

"I thee wed." Harry finished, sliding the band on her finger.

"Hermione, repeat after me." Hermione quickly pulled the ring off Carisa's thumb, causing slight pain in her maid of honor ("Ow!")

"With this ring-" the Minister said.

"With this ring-" Hermione repeated softly, her eyes full of love.

"As a token of my love and affection-"

"As a token of my love and affection-"

"I thee wed."

"I thee wed," Hermione said giddily, putting it on his ring finger.

"And now, by the power vested in me-" Harry and Hermione heard the minister say, "I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Leaning in, Harry and Hermione shared a passionate kiss. Finally pulling apart after a minute, they turned to the crowd.

"May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter," the Minister smiled. The couple strolled down the aisle holding hands.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione whispered to him.

"And I love you, Hermione," Harry whispered back.

Harry and Hermione went down to the private garden, hoping to get some time alone before the reception. Sitting on a bench, Hermione was just about to speak when two spirits floated down to them. Harry recognized them immediately.

"Mum? Dad?" he asked, gaping at the spirits.

"Yes, Harry," Lily said, giving her son a smile as she wiped a tear from the corner of her silvery eye. "We were permitted to come and see you today. Thank you for what you did for us, son. And we're so glad you found the right girl, Harry."

"I'm proud of you, son," James added. Then, "Hermione, we're proud of you, too. We've always known you and Harry would be together, and you set an example for him to follow. Please be there for him as we never could."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I will...Dad."

Lily began to cry again. "You're such a lovely girl, Hermione. You remind me so much of myself. Take care of each other, always."

"We will, Mum," Harry promised, taking hold of Hermione's hand.

"Goodbye, kids. Remember, we're always here..." And then, as quick as they had come, they were gone.

"I love you more than anything, Harry, and your parent's approval means so much to me," she smiled, giving him a hug. Harry returned it.

"How could they not love you, when I do?"

Sighing contentedly, Harry and Hermione shared another passionate kiss before going to the reception.

It had been a nearly...wait, an absolutely perfect beginning, Hermione thought.