Chapter Text
Hermione returned to England from University the week before the wedding. Having accepted the invitation to stay with the Weasleys in Ottery St. Catchpole, she arrived on Sunday afternoon to find the home practically vacant.
“Hello, Hermione. It’s very good to see you.” Arthur Weasley affably greeted her.
“Where is everyone?” she asked in the midst of the welcome hug.
“Oh, well, off shopping and whatnot.” Arthur released her. “Come in come in…care for a drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m good for now. Whose here for the wedding?”
“Oh, the house is full. Everyone is here, even Charlie.”
“Wow.”
“Now, don’t worry, we still have room if you don’t mind sharing with Ginny.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Right, well, you know the way. Go ahead and get settled. Molly should be back in a bit.”
Hermione had barely unpacked her things when the bedroom door banged open, making her jump.
“You’re here!” Arms crushed her as Ginny tackled her. “I am so relieved. Mum is driving me nutters. I need help.”
Hermione laughed gaily. “I got you. No worries.”
“Are you sure it won’t be too awkward with Ron and his girlfriend here?”
“No. Not at all. We ended a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but you never really talked since.”
“I think I said what I needed to at the time.”
“If you’re sure. We can shift you over to Harry’s if it’s a problem.”
“Really, Gin. It’s ok. We’re good.”
“Right. Well, let’s go see everyone.”
The week flew by with catching up, last minute shopping, and dealing with the chaos of getting everyone to the venue. Hermione, as maid of honor, had managed to organize a successful hen night and kept Ginny from getting too intoxicated. Ron, as best man was not as successful. He and Harry were fished out of the inactive fountain at sunrise. A few potions and a couple of hours of preparation and the bride and groom were ready to speak their vows and the ceremony proceeded without a hitch.
The reception was where things took a sharp turn. Too much alcohol and too much time burying truths proved a perfect recipe for hostile confrontations. Hermione and Ginny were sharing a laugh over one of Luna’s quixotic stories when an inebriated witch approached.
“So… Hermione Granger, where do you get off thinking you can just waltz back into town and step back into the spotlight next to Harry and Ron?”
Ginny shifted to block her approach. “Victoria, maybe you should go back to your table.”
“Maybe you should stay out of this.”
“This is my wedding. If I want to get into it,” Ginny got up into Victoria’s face, “I will damn well get into it.”
“What, you afraid your little friend can’t defend herself? The golden girl not as tuff as the stories tell?”
Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny, pinning the bride’s arms to her sides, and turned her away from the interloper. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Hermione tried to swallow her growing irritation.
“Vic, what are you doing?” Ron joined the group.
“Call her off, Ron, before it’s too late.” Ginny snarled.
“Vic, come on,” Ron tugged at his date’s elbow.
“No!” the woman wrenched her arm away. “She should go. She doesn’t belong here.”
“What are you on about?” Ron asked, exasperated with the unreasonable witch.
“You said it yourself; she deserted everyone and ran off to Canada to hide from her humiliation. The brains of the Golden Trio couldn’t protect herself from a lesser demon. Hell, she couldn’t even attract the right gender.”
“Did you say that?” Hermione's voice was glacial as she faced Ron.
“Of course not.”
“Tell her, Ron. Tell her how relieved you are you broke it off with her.”
“You broke it off with me?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“So what did you say?”
“He said…” The force that hit Victoria was nothing magical. The infuriating shrew dropped like a stone from Hermione’s right hook.
“Oi, what’d you do that for?”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“You were always too hotheaded for your own good.”
“I’m hotheaded? You’re the one who left Harry and me because you had a temper tantrum.”
“You broke up with me because I didn’t kiss your arse.”
“How dare you!”
The fluctuation in energy was not subtle. Before anyone could access their wand, Ron was thrown back three meters and collided with a table, flipping it over.
“Hermione, don’t!” Ginny screamed, grabbing Hermione’s arm.
In response to the power discharge, the newlywed’s table was instantaneously surrounded by wizards and witches brandishing wands, prepared to intercede. Amidst the pandemonium, Hermione was roughly dragged away and led to a quiet table tucked away in the shade of a large elm tree.
“What on earth just transpired?”
Hermione wrenched her arm away from the speaker of the smooth Scottish purr and nearly fell on her butt for her efforts.
“Easy, Hermione, you don’t want to spoil your gown.”
Hermione pulled herself together and stood tall to face her old professor.
“Thank you, Professor. I am beholden to you for extricating me from that unsavory incident.”
“Would you like to sit?” Minerva offered with an amused smile, directing Hermione to a chair.
Accepting the offer, Hermione dropped into the nearest seat.
“Drink?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Minerva summoned two glasses of champagne. Lifting one she toasted Hermione, “Here’s to wandless magic.”
“You noticed.”
“I may be the only one who did. What happened?”
“Ron pissed me off.”
“Ah. He always did have that ability. I recall a number of disagreements between the two of you.”
“Can you believe we ever thought to give it a go?”
“I confess I did have my doubts.”
Hermione grinned at Minerva’s easy banter.
“How long have you been home?”
“I got back last Sunday.”
“Is it a permanent status?”
“I am finished with university if that is what you’re asking.”
“Finished? Three masteries in only five years? That must be a record achievement.”
“Yeah, well, it’s amazing what one can accomplish with a safe place to study.”
The snarky shot did not miss its mark.
“I apologize, Miss Granger.” Minerva stood from her chair. “I did not realize your previous altercation was merely a warmup exercise. If you’ll excuse me, I am not prepared for a battle.”
Hermione hastily grabbed for Minerva, her fingers tightening around a slim wrist. “I’m sorry, Minerva.” She implored remorsefully. “Really, that wasn’t fair of me. I just…what Victoria said…”
Minerva glanced at the restraining hand before locking eyes with Hermione. “I am not Victoria.”
“I know. Please…”
Minerva warily returned to her seat, allowing a second chance.
“Maybe we could avoid talking about me for a while,” Hermione suggested.
“Yes, that may be best. Have you read Mittinger’s theory of energetic reciprocity?”
“I have. I think there’s some merit to his hypothesis, but his approach is dubious at best. How he could publish such amateurish drivel… What?” Hermione got sidetracked by Minerva’s expression.
“Oh, nothing, I was simply intrigued by the spirit of your argument.”
“Do you think I am wrong?”
“Nay, lass, I agree with you. Mr. Mittinger has published a paper without verified evidence. And, I fear his basic premise is an idea that was initially considered by Emily Viertel in her study of atomic mass conversion in the transfiguration of vertebrates.”
“Oh my god, that’s it. That’s why his work seemed familiar.”
“I’m sure, had you thought about it, you would have come to the same realization.” Minerva teased.
“No need to mock me.”
“I disagree.” Minerva playfully countered.
“Hermione!” Ginny stumbled over a clump of sod and landed in Hermione’s lap. “Thanks,” she grinned.
“Anytime.”
“Will you come dance with me?”
“Aren’t you supposed to share the first dance with your husband?”
“I would, but he really isn’t very good.”
“It’s tradition, Gin. You need to at least stand there and sway with him for the first. Then I promise, I’ll dance with you.”
“Brilliant! Come on.” Ginny grabbed Hermione and hauled her out of the seat.
“Min…”
“Tis fine. I will see you later.”