FIC: 'Knowledge of Love', TRIOFIC, PG
Dec. 24th, 2004 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ofscarletwomanTitle: Knowledge of Love
Author: Tarie
Pairing: H/R/Hr
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,105
Notes: This is based on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
triumvirate canon up until June 10, 2004. The rest is how I see it ending. Some handfasting chanting from an old book I own. Lots of pages are missing and there isn't a cover, so I can't properly credit. :p For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
calliope14 and legomymalfoy. They know why. (Written for my 3 year LJ anniversary in June 2004)
The view from the master bedroom window was truly breathtaking.
In the weeks since she had returned to the home that Harry had bought for the three of them after withdrawing from university in the States, Hermione had never taken the time to really look out that window and admire the scenery that made up their land. She had known, of course, that the grove and the adjacent garden filled to the brim with bluebells were lovely. After all, every morning before Ron would Floo off to work with Fred and George, she would take long walks out in the grove with Harry and Ron drinking her morning cuppa. Some days they would chatter on and on about anything and everything—the final siege at Hogwarts that happened mere weeks before their Leaving, Remus’ death (which Harry had been extremely tight-lipped about, worrying Ron and Hermione), how glad they were that Sirius had Bill to lean on in the aftermath of losing Remus for good, Harry’s defeat of Voldemort, Ron’s job with Weasley Wizard Wheezes, her decision to postpone university until the threat of an uprising of younger Death Eaters went away, everything and anything was fair game. Well, almost anything. She and Ron would not force Harry to speak about Remus’ passing, although they themselves talked about it quite often in front of him in hopes that he would eventually open up. Ron said that Harry didn’t want to talk about it because he hurt too much from Remus being gone and she would counter that Remus was never really there in the first place and Harry was likely mourning the fact that he wouldn’t have the chance to get close to him like he felt his parents would have wanted. Ron would always give her that look that meant he thought she was mad and she would roll her eyes but, by some grace of Merlin, they agreed to not dissect the reason why Harry didn’t want to talk about it and just focus on helping him get through Remus’ absence as best they could. They would also not ask Harry why he up and quit the Wimbourne Wasps in lieu of working full time at Quality Quidditch Supply. Hermione suspected that he left the team to focus on Order missions, although, if he was indeed deeper involved in the Order of the Phoenix than they were, he never mentioned anything of the sort to Ron and Hermione.
She wasn’t going to dwell on such thoughts now, though. Now was the time to take in and fully appreciate how spectacular their tree grove looked, especially with the fairy lights that were lending an ethereal glow to the area. The glow was nearly as vibrant as the sparkle in her eyes this day.
“Hermione, dear, it’s time.” Mrs Weasley was tearing up already; Hermione could tell this without even turning around as her voice was nearly bursting with emotion.
“Already?” Her lips curled up in a faint, nervous smile as she pivoted on her heel toward Ron’s mother. “I could have sworn that you just told me I had nearly a quarter-hour yet!”
Mrs Weasley smiled, her thin lips moving up in a smile so broad that Hermione nearly thought her face would crack right down the middle in two. Her large, kind eyes were filling up with moisture already and Hermione had to duck her head to avoid meeting the other woman’s eyes again. If she started crying right then and there, Hermione knew that she would follow suit and she would have to endure the ceremony with puffy red eyes, something she hoped to avoid for the sake of the pictures that would be taken to commemorate the event.
Crossing over to Hermione, Mrs Weasley took the girl’s hand in hers and patted it. “I told you that almost a quarter-hour ago to the very minute.”
Lifting her eyes up and taking in the slight pink tint to Mrs Weasley’s cheeks (and wondering if Ron’s were already that shade in anticipation of what was going to transpire that afternoon), Hermione laughed, shaking her head apologetically. “I’m sorry; I’m afraid that I’m just a tad bit--”
“Nervous?” Mrs Weasley asked kindly.
Nodding and raising a hand to check the back of her upswept hairstyle as she did so, Hermione replied sheepishly, “Yes, very much so. Silly, considering everything I’ve been through with them already, isn’t it?”
Shaking her head, Mrs Weasley lifted a hand to Hermione’s cheek and stroked it once in a soothing manner before picking up a linen handkerchief from Hermione’s dresser and twisting it in her fingers. “It isn’t silly, Hermione. Not at all. You, Ron, and Harry have been on so many adventures already—and most of the more dangerous than not!—but I daresay that this is the greatest one you will ever embark on together.” Choking back a sob, Mrs Weasley unexpectedly wrapped her arms around Hermione and drew her close. “Always remember to trust in one another and to never doubt and you’ll make it to the end all right and together.”
“Oh,” Hermione breathed, giving Mrs Weasley a squeeze, “I will.”
Straightening, Mrs Weasley smoothed out her dress robe, inhaled deeply, and gave Hermione an authoritative smile. “Now,” she said, inspecting Hermione from head to toe, “have you got everything?”
“I think so,” Hermione replied with a somewhat dubious tone. “Let me think. Something old…this bracelet. Harry gave one to Ron and one to me some time ago. Something new…this dress, most definitely! Something borrowed? The brooch on my bodice that you lent me this morning. And something--” Her face fell. “Blue. I don’t have anything blue.” Panic began to set it. “If I don’t have something blue it’s bad luck, isn’t it? And I can’t charm anything blue as that would be cheating and who wants to cheat on today of all days? What would that say about things? Oh, Mrs Weasley, I don’t know what--”
Just that very moment, an owl swooped in through the window that Hermione had been looking out of minutes ago. It was quite ancient and molting every which way, his brown feathers fluttering to the floor as he dove and dropped a small parcel near Hermione’s feet.
“What in Merlin’s name--?” Hermione exclaimed, stooping down to collect the parcel. Glancing up, she saw the owl fly out of the window and then shifted her gaze to Mrs Weasley.
“Errol? I don’t understand; you could have just--”
“Open the parcel, dear.”
Giving Mrs Weasley one last inquisitive look, Hermione turned her attention to the small parcel before her. Unwrapping it carefully, a small box bearing only her name on the lid in familiar handwriting was revealed. Hermione felt her stomach flip and flop, her mouth drying out as well.
Whispering, she said slowly, “It can’t be--”
Opening the box with shaking hands, she discovered that it contained only a small, delicate handkerchief with blue embroidered flowers. Taking it out of the box, she felt Mrs Weasley’s eyes on her and looked up.
“I sent a post to your mum,” she confirmed.
“Why--”
“Because,” Mrs Weasley cut her off, her eyes narrowing, “every mother ought to know her own daughter is getting married and I thought she’d want to know.”
“But,” Hermione started, “she—they--” She was dumbstruck. More than a few times Hermione had begun to write a post home to Caroline and Dennis to tell them that she had become engaged to Harry and Ron but each time she would remember how her father had shut the door on her during Easter hols and she would toss the letter aside. Never in a million years did she think that they would ever know their daughter had plans to commit herself to two boys, let along send her something as a sign of some sort of support. Hermione wasn’t daft enough to consider her mother’s handkerchief a full blessing, but it nearly made her weep for the mere gesture that Caroline had made. She might not be supportive of what Hermione is doing, but she did not wish for her daughter to not have all the luck a bride should on her most special day of days.
“Just take it, dear,” Mrs Weasley advised, placing a hand under Hermione’s elbow and helping her to rise to her feet. “Now, tuck it in and let’s go. You know how impatient boys are.”
Her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest already, Hermione nodded and folded the small bit of cloth neatly before folding it and placing it between her wrist and the underside of her bracelet.
“Yes,” she said, checking her reflection one last time for good measure and fluffing up an already-frizzy curl, “I do. These two are particularly so.” And having said that, she followed Mrs Weasley out of the master bedroom, down the stairs, and toward her final destination.
******************************************************************************************
“Oy,” Ron whispered, elbowing Harry sharply in the side, “what’s with the broomstick? Is there Quidditch involved in this thing? Have we got to score so many goals to prove we fancy each other and they’ll let us do this thing?”
“What?” Harry asked distractedly, blinking as he glanced around at the many faces peering back at he and Ron expectantly.
“Y’know, it’s really not fair, if that’s the case. I always had the job of keeping goals out and you chased after the Snitch all the time and, really, if Sirius is that deadest against us committing to Hermione, he ought to just say so himself instead of making us play unfamiliar Quidditch positions to win her and each other!”
Blinking, Harry tilted his head toward Ron and eyed him silently for a long time. “Ron,” he said seriously. “Mate, I worry about you.”
“I worry about you too, Harry,” Ron responded immediately, “especially since I think a Quaffle is way too big for you and you’ll be all pouty if you don’t make enough goals and all.”
Bursting out laughing, Harry shook his head and lightly punched Ron’s shoulder. “Git. Sirius isn’t going to make us play Quidditch to ‘win’ each other! The broom’s likely part of the ceremony.”
Ron’s face screwed up for a moment of intense thought and then he frowned. “That’s too bad. I reckon that Quidditch is the best thing next to a commitment ceremony. For a moment there I thought Sirius was an absolute genius, combining the two.”
Grinning, Harry shot him a wink. “Who says we can’t play a spot of Quidditch after?”
“Hermione,” Ron replied instantly.
“Not if we make a show of tugging on our gloves,” Harry said mischievously. “You know she fancies those things.”
“Oh yeah,” Ron grinned. “I knew I loved you for a reason, you brilliant bloke you!”
Chuckling, Harry opened his mouth to retort but quickly found that he was rather speechless when Bill escorted Hermione to the circle where Ron and Harry were waiting for her. From the way Ron’s eyes rounded when he saw her as well, it was obvious to one and all watching them that the boys found her to be absolutely stunning.
Watching as Sirius passed them to cast a circle, Hermione felt a flush creeping up her face and clutched on more tightly to Bill’s arm. Although she was very aware that Sirius was addressing and blessing them, she barely heard a word he said. It was only when Bill lightly squeezed her hand did she realise that she was to enter the circle along with Harry, Ron, and Bill.
His face full of pride, Sirius greeted the small number of witnesses and shot the three of them-and Bill- a rather large, toothy grin. “We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Harry James Potter, Ronald Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Sophia Granger. There are many things to say about marriage. With each union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these three, who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of love and its strengths and the anticipation of the wisdom that comes with time. The law of life is love unto all beings. Without love, life is nothing, without love, death has no redemption. If we learn no more in life, let it be this….”
Feeling her eyes prickle with moisture, she moved slowly in a half-circle as Bill guided her to face both Harry and Ron, who turned in toward her to form a sort of triangle. Tilting her head back, she looked from Harry to Ron and back again and felt her heart swell with more love and pride than she ever thought possible.
“… I ask simply if she comes of her own will and if she has her family's blessing. Hermione, is it true that you come today of your own free will?”
I don’t have my family’s blessing, Sirius. I don’t and I don’t know if I ever--
Biting her lower lip, the sun glinted off of her bracelet and Hermione was reminded of the handkerchief tucked inside it. I don’t think it’s a blessing, exactly, but maybe it’s a start of sorts…
Nodding slowly, she replied, “Yes, it is true.”
Grinning at Bill, Sirius inquired, “With whom do you come and whose blessings have you today?”
Clearing his throat, Bill said in a loud, clear voice, “She comes with me and has the blessings of me and my family.”
“Very good,” Sirius replied, indicating with a gesture that Bill may turn her over to Harry and Ron and join the rest of his family to watch the rest of the ceremony.
After giving Bill something of a teary smile, Hermione turned back toward Ron and Harry and the three of them joined hands as Sirius continued on.
“…Harry, Ron, Hermione, I do not have the right to bind you to one another, only you have this right. If this be your wish, say so and place your rings in Hermione’s hand and cover hers with yours.”
“It is my wish,” Hermione whispered, placing her ring in the centre of the palm of her hand, keeping it open for Harry and Ron to follow suit.
“It is my wish,” Ron said fiercely, setting his ring next to Hermione’s and giving Harry and her a lopsided smile.
“It is my wish,” Harry said in a low voice thick with emotion. Leaning in toward Hermione, he put his ring on her palm and then curled her fingers up around them all, taking Ron’s hand next and setting it a top her fingers, and finally placing his hand over theirs. Gently applying pressure to their joined hands, he, Ron, and Hermione listened attentively to Sirius’ words.
Following his instructions then to each take the others’ rings and to utter a small incantation and place a kiss upon it, they then each helped one another slide rings on their intended’s fingers, hands shaking all around. One after the other they repeated what Sirius said, Hermione and then Harry and then Ron.
“I, Ronald Arthur Weasley, by the life that courses within my blood and the love in my heart, take Harry James Potter and Hermione Sophia Granger to my heart, my hand, and my spirit, to be my chosen ones….”
Waiting until the last of Ron’s words faded into the wind, Sirius moved in close and whispered, “Technically this isn’t part of the ritual but, sod it all, I was never one to go by all the rules” before pulling the three of them in close for a long embrace. Hermione’s cheek was pressed up against Sirius’ on account of the way they were all situated and she could feel the moisture on his cheek.
“Your mum and dad would’ve been so proud of you here today, Harry,” Sirius said thickly, giving them an extra squeeze. “And somewhere, wherever they are, they are. You three share the kind of love that Lily and James had and don’t you dare forget that what you have is special. Never doubt it.”
Coughing, Ron nodded. Hoarsely, he said, “I never could, Sirius.”
“Thank you,” Harry murmured. “I wish they could be here but having you is more than enough…so thank you.”
With a nod of his head, Sirius gave them a wink and released them, saying , “Let’s make this official, shall we?”
The trio straightened and resumed their triangle, holding onto one another’s hands tightly as Sirius uncast the circle. Taking Harry’s Firebolt from the centre of the circle, he then placed it in front of the trio, just beyond where the circle had been.
“Now,” Sirius said merrily, “I present to you the newly-committed Harry James Potter, Ronald Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Sophia Granger.”
“Ron,” Hermione whispered, jutting her chin from him to the broom and back, “we’ve to jump over it holding hands.”
“Really?” Ron inquired, his brow furrowing.
“Yes,” she returned with a giggle, both incredibly happy and amused by the expression on his and Harry’s faces.
“All right then,” he said around a big grin, turning the three of them around to face the broom. “On three, then. One…”
“Two,” Hermione said, the anticipation tingling in her toes as she tightened her grip on Ron’s hand and he did the same to Harry’s.
“Three!” Harry whooped and the three of them leapt over his Firebolt to land on the other side.
“Oy,” a voice called from the crowd of on-lookers, “you’ve got to snog! It’s no commitment thingee unless there’s snogging, Ronniekins!”
Laughing, Ron leaned around Harry and pretended to shake his fist at Fred and then George. “What’s the hurry? A bloke might be inclined to think you’ve placed bets on this or something!”
Grinning devilishly, Harry waved Fred off and pulled Ron close, kissing him soundly and then Hermione while the twins yelled in the background. Rolling her eyes and making somewhat of an outraged tut as George complained loudly that he’d bet Fred five Galleons that Ron and Hermione would kiss first, she then pulled Ron close and moved her lips slowly over his, savouring the taste of him.
“You’ve got to learn to share, Hermione,” Harry chastised in a quiet, bemused tone.
Reaching a hand out and pulling Harry close against Ron and her, Hermione arched a brow and smiled a slow, promising smile. “Oh,” she said sweetly, “I intend on learning. It may take me a while, however, as we’ve our whole lives ahead of us now. Together.”
Author: Tarie
Pairing: H/R/Hr
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,105
Notes: This is based on
triumvirate canon up until June 10, 2004. The rest is how I see it ending. Some handfasting chanting from an old book I own. Lots of pages are missing and there isn't a cover, so I can't properly credit. :p For calliope14 and legomymalfoy. They know why. (Written for my 3 year LJ anniversary in June 2004)The view from the master bedroom window was truly breathtaking.
In the weeks since she had returned to the home that Harry had bought for the three of them after withdrawing from university in the States, Hermione had never taken the time to really look out that window and admire the scenery that made up their land. She had known, of course, that the grove and the adjacent garden filled to the brim with bluebells were lovely. After all, every morning before Ron would Floo off to work with Fred and George, she would take long walks out in the grove with Harry and Ron drinking her morning cuppa. Some days they would chatter on and on about anything and everything—the final siege at Hogwarts that happened mere weeks before their Leaving, Remus’ death (which Harry had been extremely tight-lipped about, worrying Ron and Hermione), how glad they were that Sirius had Bill to lean on in the aftermath of losing Remus for good, Harry’s defeat of Voldemort, Ron’s job with Weasley Wizard Wheezes, her decision to postpone university until the threat of an uprising of younger Death Eaters went away, everything and anything was fair game. Well, almost anything. She and Ron would not force Harry to speak about Remus’ passing, although they themselves talked about it quite often in front of him in hopes that he would eventually open up. Ron said that Harry didn’t want to talk about it because he hurt too much from Remus being gone and she would counter that Remus was never really there in the first place and Harry was likely mourning the fact that he wouldn’t have the chance to get close to him like he felt his parents would have wanted. Ron would always give her that look that meant he thought she was mad and she would roll her eyes but, by some grace of Merlin, they agreed to not dissect the reason why Harry didn’t want to talk about it and just focus on helping him get through Remus’ absence as best they could. They would also not ask Harry why he up and quit the Wimbourne Wasps in lieu of working full time at Quality Quidditch Supply. Hermione suspected that he left the team to focus on Order missions, although, if he was indeed deeper involved in the Order of the Phoenix than they were, he never mentioned anything of the sort to Ron and Hermione.
She wasn’t going to dwell on such thoughts now, though. Now was the time to take in and fully appreciate how spectacular their tree grove looked, especially with the fairy lights that were lending an ethereal glow to the area. The glow was nearly as vibrant as the sparkle in her eyes this day.
“Hermione, dear, it’s time.” Mrs Weasley was tearing up already; Hermione could tell this without even turning around as her voice was nearly bursting with emotion.
“Already?” Her lips curled up in a faint, nervous smile as she pivoted on her heel toward Ron’s mother. “I could have sworn that you just told me I had nearly a quarter-hour yet!”
Mrs Weasley smiled, her thin lips moving up in a smile so broad that Hermione nearly thought her face would crack right down the middle in two. Her large, kind eyes were filling up with moisture already and Hermione had to duck her head to avoid meeting the other woman’s eyes again. If she started crying right then and there, Hermione knew that she would follow suit and she would have to endure the ceremony with puffy red eyes, something she hoped to avoid for the sake of the pictures that would be taken to commemorate the event.
Crossing over to Hermione, Mrs Weasley took the girl’s hand in hers and patted it. “I told you that almost a quarter-hour ago to the very minute.”
Lifting her eyes up and taking in the slight pink tint to Mrs Weasley’s cheeks (and wondering if Ron’s were already that shade in anticipation of what was going to transpire that afternoon), Hermione laughed, shaking her head apologetically. “I’m sorry; I’m afraid that I’m just a tad bit--”
“Nervous?” Mrs Weasley asked kindly.
Nodding and raising a hand to check the back of her upswept hairstyle as she did so, Hermione replied sheepishly, “Yes, very much so. Silly, considering everything I’ve been through with them already, isn’t it?”
Shaking her head, Mrs Weasley lifted a hand to Hermione’s cheek and stroked it once in a soothing manner before picking up a linen handkerchief from Hermione’s dresser and twisting it in her fingers. “It isn’t silly, Hermione. Not at all. You, Ron, and Harry have been on so many adventures already—and most of the more dangerous than not!—but I daresay that this is the greatest one you will ever embark on together.” Choking back a sob, Mrs Weasley unexpectedly wrapped her arms around Hermione and drew her close. “Always remember to trust in one another and to never doubt and you’ll make it to the end all right and together.”
“Oh,” Hermione breathed, giving Mrs Weasley a squeeze, “I will.”
Straightening, Mrs Weasley smoothed out her dress robe, inhaled deeply, and gave Hermione an authoritative smile. “Now,” she said, inspecting Hermione from head to toe, “have you got everything?”
“I think so,” Hermione replied with a somewhat dubious tone. “Let me think. Something old…this bracelet. Harry gave one to Ron and one to me some time ago. Something new…this dress, most definitely! Something borrowed? The brooch on my bodice that you lent me this morning. And something--” Her face fell. “Blue. I don’t have anything blue.” Panic began to set it. “If I don’t have something blue it’s bad luck, isn’t it? And I can’t charm anything blue as that would be cheating and who wants to cheat on today of all days? What would that say about things? Oh, Mrs Weasley, I don’t know what--”
Just that very moment, an owl swooped in through the window that Hermione had been looking out of minutes ago. It was quite ancient and molting every which way, his brown feathers fluttering to the floor as he dove and dropped a small parcel near Hermione’s feet.
“What in Merlin’s name--?” Hermione exclaimed, stooping down to collect the parcel. Glancing up, she saw the owl fly out of the window and then shifted her gaze to Mrs Weasley.
“Errol? I don’t understand; you could have just--”
“Open the parcel, dear.”
Giving Mrs Weasley one last inquisitive look, Hermione turned her attention to the small parcel before her. Unwrapping it carefully, a small box bearing only her name on the lid in familiar handwriting was revealed. Hermione felt her stomach flip and flop, her mouth drying out as well.
Whispering, she said slowly, “It can’t be--”
Opening the box with shaking hands, she discovered that it contained only a small, delicate handkerchief with blue embroidered flowers. Taking it out of the box, she felt Mrs Weasley’s eyes on her and looked up.
“I sent a post to your mum,” she confirmed.
“Why--”
“Because,” Mrs Weasley cut her off, her eyes narrowing, “every mother ought to know her own daughter is getting married and I thought she’d want to know.”
“But,” Hermione started, “she—they--” She was dumbstruck. More than a few times Hermione had begun to write a post home to Caroline and Dennis to tell them that she had become engaged to Harry and Ron but each time she would remember how her father had shut the door on her during Easter hols and she would toss the letter aside. Never in a million years did she think that they would ever know their daughter had plans to commit herself to two boys, let along send her something as a sign of some sort of support. Hermione wasn’t daft enough to consider her mother’s handkerchief a full blessing, but it nearly made her weep for the mere gesture that Caroline had made. She might not be supportive of what Hermione is doing, but she did not wish for her daughter to not have all the luck a bride should on her most special day of days.
“Just take it, dear,” Mrs Weasley advised, placing a hand under Hermione’s elbow and helping her to rise to her feet. “Now, tuck it in and let’s go. You know how impatient boys are.”
Her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest already, Hermione nodded and folded the small bit of cloth neatly before folding it and placing it between her wrist and the underside of her bracelet.
“Yes,” she said, checking her reflection one last time for good measure and fluffing up an already-frizzy curl, “I do. These two are particularly so.” And having said that, she followed Mrs Weasley out of the master bedroom, down the stairs, and toward her final destination.
******************************************************************************************
“Oy,” Ron whispered, elbowing Harry sharply in the side, “what’s with the broomstick? Is there Quidditch involved in this thing? Have we got to score so many goals to prove we fancy each other and they’ll let us do this thing?”
“What?” Harry asked distractedly, blinking as he glanced around at the many faces peering back at he and Ron expectantly.
“Y’know, it’s really not fair, if that’s the case. I always had the job of keeping goals out and you chased after the Snitch all the time and, really, if Sirius is that deadest against us committing to Hermione, he ought to just say so himself instead of making us play unfamiliar Quidditch positions to win her and each other!”
Blinking, Harry tilted his head toward Ron and eyed him silently for a long time. “Ron,” he said seriously. “Mate, I worry about you.”
“I worry about you too, Harry,” Ron responded immediately, “especially since I think a Quaffle is way too big for you and you’ll be all pouty if you don’t make enough goals and all.”
Bursting out laughing, Harry shook his head and lightly punched Ron’s shoulder. “Git. Sirius isn’t going to make us play Quidditch to ‘win’ each other! The broom’s likely part of the ceremony.”
Ron’s face screwed up for a moment of intense thought and then he frowned. “That’s too bad. I reckon that Quidditch is the best thing next to a commitment ceremony. For a moment there I thought Sirius was an absolute genius, combining the two.”
Grinning, Harry shot him a wink. “Who says we can’t play a spot of Quidditch after?”
“Hermione,” Ron replied instantly.
“Not if we make a show of tugging on our gloves,” Harry said mischievously. “You know she fancies those things.”
“Oh yeah,” Ron grinned. “I knew I loved you for a reason, you brilliant bloke you!”
Chuckling, Harry opened his mouth to retort but quickly found that he was rather speechless when Bill escorted Hermione to the circle where Ron and Harry were waiting for her. From the way Ron’s eyes rounded when he saw her as well, it was obvious to one and all watching them that the boys found her to be absolutely stunning.
Watching as Sirius passed them to cast a circle, Hermione felt a flush creeping up her face and clutched on more tightly to Bill’s arm. Although she was very aware that Sirius was addressing and blessing them, she barely heard a word he said. It was only when Bill lightly squeezed her hand did she realise that she was to enter the circle along with Harry, Ron, and Bill.
His face full of pride, Sirius greeted the small number of witnesses and shot the three of them-and Bill- a rather large, toothy grin. “We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Harry James Potter, Ronald Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Sophia Granger. There are many things to say about marriage. With each union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these three, who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of love and its strengths and the anticipation of the wisdom that comes with time. The law of life is love unto all beings. Without love, life is nothing, without love, death has no redemption. If we learn no more in life, let it be this….”
Feeling her eyes prickle with moisture, she moved slowly in a half-circle as Bill guided her to face both Harry and Ron, who turned in toward her to form a sort of triangle. Tilting her head back, she looked from Harry to Ron and back again and felt her heart swell with more love and pride than she ever thought possible.
“… I ask simply if she comes of her own will and if she has her family's blessing. Hermione, is it true that you come today of your own free will?”
I don’t have my family’s blessing, Sirius. I don’t and I don’t know if I ever--
Biting her lower lip, the sun glinted off of her bracelet and Hermione was reminded of the handkerchief tucked inside it. I don’t think it’s a blessing, exactly, but maybe it’s a start of sorts…
Nodding slowly, she replied, “Yes, it is true.”
Grinning at Bill, Sirius inquired, “With whom do you come and whose blessings have you today?”
Clearing his throat, Bill said in a loud, clear voice, “She comes with me and has the blessings of me and my family.”
“Very good,” Sirius replied, indicating with a gesture that Bill may turn her over to Harry and Ron and join the rest of his family to watch the rest of the ceremony.
After giving Bill something of a teary smile, Hermione turned back toward Ron and Harry and the three of them joined hands as Sirius continued on.
“…Harry, Ron, Hermione, I do not have the right to bind you to one another, only you have this right. If this be your wish, say so and place your rings in Hermione’s hand and cover hers with yours.”
“It is my wish,” Hermione whispered, placing her ring in the centre of the palm of her hand, keeping it open for Harry and Ron to follow suit.
“It is my wish,” Ron said fiercely, setting his ring next to Hermione’s and giving Harry and her a lopsided smile.
“It is my wish,” Harry said in a low voice thick with emotion. Leaning in toward Hermione, he put his ring on her palm and then curled her fingers up around them all, taking Ron’s hand next and setting it a top her fingers, and finally placing his hand over theirs. Gently applying pressure to their joined hands, he, Ron, and Hermione listened attentively to Sirius’ words.
Following his instructions then to each take the others’ rings and to utter a small incantation and place a kiss upon it, they then each helped one another slide rings on their intended’s fingers, hands shaking all around. One after the other they repeated what Sirius said, Hermione and then Harry and then Ron.
“I, Ronald Arthur Weasley, by the life that courses within my blood and the love in my heart, take Harry James Potter and Hermione Sophia Granger to my heart, my hand, and my spirit, to be my chosen ones….”
Waiting until the last of Ron’s words faded into the wind, Sirius moved in close and whispered, “Technically this isn’t part of the ritual but, sod it all, I was never one to go by all the rules” before pulling the three of them in close for a long embrace. Hermione’s cheek was pressed up against Sirius’ on account of the way they were all situated and she could feel the moisture on his cheek.
“Your mum and dad would’ve been so proud of you here today, Harry,” Sirius said thickly, giving them an extra squeeze. “And somewhere, wherever they are, they are. You three share the kind of love that Lily and James had and don’t you dare forget that what you have is special. Never doubt it.”
Coughing, Ron nodded. Hoarsely, he said, “I never could, Sirius.”
“Thank you,” Harry murmured. “I wish they could be here but having you is more than enough…so thank you.”
With a nod of his head, Sirius gave them a wink and released them, saying , “Let’s make this official, shall we?”
The trio straightened and resumed their triangle, holding onto one another’s hands tightly as Sirius uncast the circle. Taking Harry’s Firebolt from the centre of the circle, he then placed it in front of the trio, just beyond where the circle had been.
“Now,” Sirius said merrily, “I present to you the newly-committed Harry James Potter, Ronald Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Sophia Granger.”
“Ron,” Hermione whispered, jutting her chin from him to the broom and back, “we’ve to jump over it holding hands.”
“Really?” Ron inquired, his brow furrowing.
“Yes,” she returned with a giggle, both incredibly happy and amused by the expression on his and Harry’s faces.
“All right then,” he said around a big grin, turning the three of them around to face the broom. “On three, then. One…”
“Two,” Hermione said, the anticipation tingling in her toes as she tightened her grip on Ron’s hand and he did the same to Harry’s.
“Three!” Harry whooped and the three of them leapt over his Firebolt to land on the other side.
“Oy,” a voice called from the crowd of on-lookers, “you’ve got to snog! It’s no commitment thingee unless there’s snogging, Ronniekins!”
Laughing, Ron leaned around Harry and pretended to shake his fist at Fred and then George. “What’s the hurry? A bloke might be inclined to think you’ve placed bets on this or something!”
Grinning devilishly, Harry waved Fred off and pulled Ron close, kissing him soundly and then Hermione while the twins yelled in the background. Rolling her eyes and making somewhat of an outraged tut as George complained loudly that he’d bet Fred five Galleons that Ron and Hermione would kiss first, she then pulled Ron close and moved her lips slowly over his, savouring the taste of him.
“You’ve got to learn to share, Hermione,” Harry chastised in a quiet, bemused tone.
Reaching a hand out and pulling Harry close against Ron and her, Hermione arched a brow and smiled a slow, promising smile. “Oh,” she said sweetly, “I intend on learning. It may take me a while, however, as we’ve our whole lives ahead of us now. Together.”
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Date: 2004-12-25 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-26 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-26 03:12 am (UTC)