Worst Nightmare

That world-renowned melody began. Its haunting notes reverberated endlessly throughout the air. The aromas of exquisite flowers were overwhelming to the senses.

His head snapped up. Where was he? What was going on?

And then he saw.

He saw him. That clumsy screwed-up foreign good-for-nothing hideous thief. There weren't enough derogatory words or gestures that would ever satisfy Ron's hatred for that...that...

Viktor Krum.

Ron's blood began to boil. He stood up as straight as he could and clenched his fists with strength he didn't know he possessed. He seemed to inflate as his animosity grew.

If only looks could kill.

He stared down his enemy, ready to strike him like an animal in the wilderness, ruthlessly and mercilessly.

Except he was distracted. At that climactic moment, the entire crowd seated behind him turned around in their seats simultaneously, and several amazed gasps and 'oohs' escaped from their mouths.

Curiosity overpowered his fury, and he whipped his head around to see the commotion.

A sharp intake of breath from Ron. His eyes met the most stunning sight eyes could ever have looked upon.

Her.

She was beautiful. Ron's knees buckled uncontrollably. He caught himself at the last second. His eyes bugged out in pleasant shock and gaped yearningly.

How he loved her.

She was radiant. Her pure white billowy gown was immaculate, and her hair was smooth and behaved. Ron watched her glide down the aisle, and with every step she took, it yanked as his heart painfully. She looked absolutely...perfect.

Except, Ron happened to notice that she looked apprehensive. Like she was making a mistake. But who wouldn't at their own wedding?

With a jolt, Ron realized where he was. He reprimanded himself for being so clueless and stupid.

But who was she...?

"No..." he whispered comprehensively. "No!"

Ron wasn't even thinking of the people around him; not that they were paying any attention to him anyway. They were entirely focused on the heavenly bride swishing slowly towards the groom.

Ron's body trembled with the unfathomable abhorrence he could only feel for that wretched Bulgarian.

How dare he even think of marrying Hermione. His Hermione.

Ron was going to make him pay oh-so-dearly for this.

He rolled up his sleeves and proceeded defiantly towards the waiting groom, who was ignoring Ron's antics completely. The nerve of him!

But, strangely, the distance between Ron and the altar seemed to increase with every step. He quickened his pace, and the distance grew even more, baffling him.

As each valuable and crucial second passed, Hermione came closer to Krum, and farther from Ron.

And closer.

And closer.

Ron went into an all-out sprint. His heart was beating out of his body. He couldn't catch his breath. His legs screamed in agony of been pushed and pushed and pushed. Sweat was everywhere. His adrenaline was pumping like water being released from a dam.

And then it stopped.

Ron opened his eyes.

The sight before him was extremely perplexing. Brilliant orange hues momentarily hurt his eyes. Blankets were tangled up around him.

And he was on the floor.

Ron sighed in relief.

"Thank God, it was all a dream," he muttered as he wiped cold sweat off his face.

"Ron, what was that? Aren't you ready yet?" Ginny's exasperated voice echoed through Ron's room.

He sat up groggily. He gazed at his younger sister, who was waiting standing in his room's threshold, looking annoyed and aggravated. It took a few seconds for Ron to discover that she was wearing an elegant set of dress robes, dressed to kill.

"Ginny, why the bloody hell are you all made up for?" he asked confusedly as he ruffled his hair.

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe because I'm the Maid of Honor, you prat!" she shouted in her trademark hysterical sarcasm, as if she was surprised at her brothers excessive amounts of stupidity.

"For what?"

"The wedding you nimrod!" she yelled, overwhelmed by frustration, rolling her eyes emphatically.

"Wedding?" Ron asked cluelessly. Then something clicked in his brain.

He gasped collectively and bolted out of his room at top speed, knocking Ginny over.

He knew where he had to go. He knew what he had to do. There was no choice or other option. There was not time for nervousness of second thoughts. He was going to do what he thought he should have done years ago.

Taking his stairs three at a time, he finally made it to Ginny's room. Not bothering to knock, he threw his body against the door.

It was déjà vu.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, perfecting her features as the bride. Not that she needed to, of course. Instinctively, she turned around.

At the sight of Ron charging in, she shrieked scandalously, "Ron!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I--"

"Don't give me that, Ron! Haven't you ever heard that it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding--"

"Don't do this Hermione! Trust me-he's not right for you!" Ron pleaded.

"Ron, are you having second thoughts or something?" Hermione asked concernedly, as her hand moved up to her chest worriedly.

"What? No!" Ron waved his hand at her response, not comprehending any of her words or actions.

He closed his eyes and looked her straight in the eye. Ron gulped nervously as the impact of what he was planning on doing came together in his mind.

"Hermione Granger, I know I should have told you a long time ago, but I know I could never live with the idea of you marrying that...that...Bulgarian without you knowing that I have loved you my entire life and...and...don't marry him! Marry me, Hermione! Marry--"

Hermione's eyes widened anxious, and she was eyeing him as if worried for his sanity. "Ron? Ron are you okay? I though we went over this months ago?"

"And--wait, what?" he said bewilderedly, shaking his head, attempting to understand her.

Being the incredibly intelligent woman that she was, Hermione put the pieces

together, and grinned at him. She loved him the most when he was like this: adorable, confused, and defiant. Her stomach fluttered happily. Not nervously, or apprehensively.

Happily.

"Ron, I'm not marrying Viktor. Not today, not ever," she declared firmly, as she wrapped her arms affectionately round his neck.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then who--"

He racked his brains.

"Oh," he whispered understandingly.

He grinned satisfactorily. "I had a bad dream," he admitted childishly.

"Yeah, I can tell," Hermione chuckled, marveling at him enamoredly.

"How could you think I would pick him over you? When you are so much sweeter,

more protective, stronger, braver, a thousand times more handsome, funnier, and downright more adorable?" she replied.

"Well, now that you mention it, I don't know why I could have thought anything else," Ron remarked smugly.

"How about you go get dressed and we can finish this later, eh?" she asked softly.

"Will do, my wife-to-be," Ron replied obediently.

He sighed as he exited her room.

In her room, she had to forcedly contain an enormous squeal.

She couldn't wait!

The squeal escaped her lips and she realized that her cheeks hurt from grinning so cheerfully.

"What?" Ron ran into the room worriedly.

"Nothing, nothing."

He raised his eye brows suspiciously.

"Go!" she shouted playfully. "You're not supposed to see me!"

"Since when do you believe in superstitions?"

"Since when do you believe your nightmares?" she retorted.

"Since Harry confessed his love to Ginny," he replied casually.

"And why is that bad?" Hermione asked defensively.

"'Cause he had worked up the nerve to confess his undying love before me!"

She grinned reluctantly.

This was going to be great.