Rating:
G
House:
Astronomy Tower
Genres:
Angst Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 09/08/2001
Updated: 09/08/2001
Words: 5,201
Chapters: 1
Hits: 3,850

Champagne High

D.M.P.

Story Summary:
Many years in the future, a wedding is held while one watches in grief... Songfic.

Chapter Summary:
Many years in the future, a wedding is held while one watches in grief… Songfic.
Posted:
09/08/2001
Hits:
3,850

CHAMPAGNE HIGH

by D.M.P.

I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you

And I never thought that it would hurt just to hear

"I do" and "I do"

"And by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Loud and joyous, the minister addressed the two at the alter. "You may now kiss the bride."

Smiling, young man lifted the veil from the bride's face and leaned over for the sealing kiss. Their lips touched, and the church exploded with cheers and shouts as the proud couple made their way back down the aisle and through the front doors. The even larger crowd of well-wishers strewed showers of confetti into the air on their way out. Some had their wands out and were shooting little sparks and fireworks into the air, dazzling the evening air with light.

The bride and groom stepped into the waiting limo. The bride wanted to be driven to the wedding reception of course; it was a little Muggle tradition. A dozen of so Comet Poppers were tied to the bumper, so that when the car started to move, little whizzing orange lights and flames whizzed off of them with little crackling noises. The wizard version of a string of aluminum cans. It was George and Fred's idea to put the Comet Poppers on the bumpers, once they heard of the Muggle custom.

Slowly, the limo started to drive off, then the side window was pulled down so that the bride could stick her head out and wave to the crowd. Wavy brown hair blew across her eyes, and she laughed as she brushed it out of the way. Her new husband stuck his head out from the sunroof and flourished his wand. A sparkle of blue-green smoke popped out, forming the words, "Just Married." Just before the limo disappeared around the corner, he grinned and pulled his wife back inside.

After the couple was gone from view, the crowd dispersed. Near the edge of the crowd, a lone man was standing. He had come out last from the church, even though he should have been right alongside the crowd when the married pair was sent off. He was the best man after all.

Minutes passed and the wedding party disappeared into thin air - literally so, since most Apparated to the restaurant where the reception was being held. Even the bride's Muggle relations had left in their cars. Yet Ron still stood there, watching the road where the limo had disappeared. He can afford to wait, since the limo drive was going to take longer than Apparation. He didn't have to be there to greet Harry and Hermione when they stepped out of the limo anyway. In fact, he really didn't feel like being there altogether. Wasn't staying for the wedding enough?

However, Harry was his best friend, and Ron couldn't bear to hurt him or Hermione - especially Hermione - by skipping out like that. Finally, after ten minutes of doing nothing but gazing listlessly, Ron half-heartedly took out his wand and whispered, "Apparatus." In a blink of an eye, he was gone.

And I do a number on myself

And all that I thought to be

And you'll be the one

That just left me undone

By my own, hesitation

Ron stood outside the restaurant, deciding whether he should enter. He couldn't Apparate directly into the restaurant because Ministry officials put a counter shield around it to prevent party crashers. He wondered if Harry would actually notice if he didn't show up for the reception. Harry would be too pre-occupied with all the excitement going on anyway.

The front of the restaurant was crowded with a throng of people, photographers, and even a couple of reporters from the Daily Prophet. Ministry officials were scattered throughout the entire area, trying to calm and hold back the crowd from the immediate area around the entrance. Over two hundred people were invited to the wedding, yet even hundreds more showed up to witness it. After all, Harry was the wizard celebrity; everyone loves to see a celebrity wedding. With all this fuss, Ron could just disappear and no one would notice.

He must have arrived too late to see them enter, however, for the limo was already parked. What a sight it must have been for Harry and Hermione in trying to make their way to their own reception!

Ron walked up the restaurant and was immediately stopped by two large Ministry officials.

"Name?" one of them asked bluntly.

"Um, Ron Weasley," Ron replied.

One of the officials had a little list on a clipboard and dragged his finger down until he spotted Ron's name. He checked it off and waved Ron off toward the doors. As he passed the spectators, several cheered out loudly, as if he was important too.

Yeah, cheers to the groom's best friend, Ron thought sarcastically to himself. And I might even give you obsessed fools autographs if you wait by the backdoor after the performance. This wedding's an entire fiasco, the whole lot of it. It's going to be turned into paparazzi fodder by next week.

And Ron could envision the perfect title for the front page of a wizard tabloid too. "Unrequited Love for Harry Potter's New Wife Revealed: What Ron Weasley Won't Tell His Best Friend."

Making his way into the restaurant, he didn't bother to go up to the reception desk and ask about reservations. The entire restaurant was bring rented out to accommodate for the large group of people. Pushing himself through the assemblage of guests, he made his way to the main dining hall, where the wedding party and close friends and relations sat. Everyone was there: from Hermione's parents to the entire faculty at Hogwarts to several important members of the Ministry. The last was only invited out of courtesy more than fondness. Even the entire Weasley family was there, taking up two small tables. The Dursleys were nowhere to be found - go figure.

Ron could see Ginny dressed up in an airy light green gown that matched the color of her eyes. A pretty young lady she was at the age of twenty. She had a little boy in her lap and was bouncing him on her knee. Their little nephew - Charlie's son and first child.

Neville Longbottom took a sip from his champagne glass and nearly jumped out of his seat as a large bullfrog jumped out of it. Fred and George laughed as they hid the bottle of Toadstool Wine behind their backs. Another little innovation they had invented just for the wedding. Even though together they owned a small chain of magical joke shops, this business didn't diminish their playful attitude.

At the front of the room a long table was set out for the prominent guests. Ron slipped into the seat next to the groom's. Harry was already there and gave Ron a little punch to the shoulder. "Glad you could make it," Harry smiled. "Thought you got caught in the bunch outside for a second there."

"I was nearly trampled," Ron replied. "It's a danger zone out there. Herding wedding guests rampaging back and forth, frenzied fame-seekers running around, Ministry bouncers on their guard... It's almost like being stuck in the aftermath of a Quidditch championship game." His light tone easily fooled Harry, and as Professor McGonagall came up to him to give her congratulations, Ron let out a sigh of relief.

He stared down at his empty plate - first course was going to be served in a few moments - and felt a wave of nervousness come over him. She was so near, so near... just on the other side of Harry. And look, the two were holding hands under the table. Damn. Ron lifted his head up and met her gaze.

Hermione grinned at him, ignorant of what he was feeling. Dressed up all in delicate white silk and glowing with a sublime radiance of happiness, she seemed like a beautiful angel. She was always an angel to him.

Ron felt that his heart would break.

And for the million hours that we were

Well, I'll smile and remember it all

Then I'll turn and go

While your story's completed, mine is a

Long way from done

They were all suppose to be best friends, right? Him, Harry and Hermione. Of course... But then why did Ron feel such jealousy in his heart?

The waiter came up to the table with the first course. Filet Mignon. Ron absent-mindedly took a piece when the serving plate came his way and mechanically began to cut his steak up into little pieces. It gave something for his hands to do at least. Ron didn't feel very hungry at all.

He recalled the time when he first met Hermione. He thought she was a bossy little know-it-all, with her fretful attitude about schoolwork and commanding tone. Ron could picture Hermione at eleven: a scrawny little girl with wild, bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. God, was she annoying then. He chuckled at the memories of her constantly badgering Harry and him about one assignment or another.

Yet he also remembered all the times the three of them spent together: traveling around in Hogsmeade, exploring the secrets of Hogwarts, cracking down various mysteries and making discoveries. Hermione was always the brains of the group, figuring out things that puzzled others. Without her, they'd probably never be successful in the million and one controversies he and Harry faced.

But she was more than smarts. Her smile, her long sweeping hair, her sparkling eyes.... When she walked, her steps were as graceful and dainty as a unicorn's, and her presence seemed to contain a magical aspect that had nothing to do with spells or charms. The way she talked affected him: with that bit of authoritative tone, but always with a steady kindness that outweighed it. Independent yet caring, that was the sound of her voice, a sound that he endeared himself to.

He thought of the times she used to do all-night crams with Harry and him the night before exams, although she already knew all the material by heart, just so she could make sure her friends would do well too. And also, how she would advocate for the rights of others, for fairness and equality, even if Ron thought the cause was pointless, like that movement for the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare. All this and more made Hermione someone he could care for - even love.

Only Ron had learned this all too late. And now... Ron sighed. He knew that eventually someone would win Hermione's heart. His own best friend. After this, none of them could be as close as they were before. Two are a couple, but three makes a crowd.

Ron Weasley, the odd one out. Lucky him.

Well I'm on a champagne high

Where will I be when I stop wondering why

On a champagne high

High...

Tink-tink-tink...

Ron lifted his eyes from his cold beef and saw that several wedding guests were tapping their utensils against their plates and glasses. What did that mean?

Harry and Hermione blushed at the noise and obligated the request. They gave each other a quick peck. The little children - Ron's little nephews and nieces mostly - squealed in delight at this display and cheered the couple on. Ron slumped in his seat.

Seamus Finnigan raised up his champagne glass and called out, "Speech! Speech!" Soon, the chant caught wildfire throughout the entire room, and Harry sheepishly stood up, glass in hand. The room hushed in silence to hear him speak.

"Well, what can I say...." Harry started off uneasily.

"That you're the luckiest damn wizard in the world," Ron cried out spontaneously. A few of the guest chuckled at this, and Ron wondered if they knew he really meant it.

Harry grinned at Ron and tipped the glass his way. "I'm only lucky because of friends like you." He turned to face the room again and scanned his eyes over the sea of faces. "All of you, I'm grateful for. Each and every one stood by me when I needed help the most." Everyone knew what Harry was talking about then. He didn't dare mention Lord Voldemort's name in this, as if that might desecrate the moment, but everyone got the point.

"I wouldn't know where I'd be without all these wonderful people here," he continued, "and all I can really say right now is thank you. Thank you for being there when I needed you. Thank you for being here now. I'm just glad that I can share the most wonderful moment in my life with everyone I care about." He raised his glass higher. "A toast," he declared. "To friendship, now and forever."

Harry clinked his glass with Ron's, then Hermione's before taking a sip. Ron agreed to this with a pasteboard grin on his face and downed the glassful of champagne in one shot.

Spring turned to summer

But then winter turned to mean

The distance seemed right

At the time it was best - to leave

And to leave behind

What I once thought was fine

And so real - to me

Let it go, Ron, let it go, he told himself stubbornly. He had these feelings for Hermione for the past few years, and God's sakes, why couldn't he shake it off? Ron had erased his feelings for a while, and now they came back threefold ever since the engagement was announced. She wasn't meant for me, Ron reasoned. Harry got her first.

***

It was winter in their fifth year. The threat of Voldemort loomed over them like a shadow, but even he didn't seem to matter that night. All that mattered was the starry night.

"Now that Voldemort has risen again, your destiny is more important than ever," Professor Trelawney had instructed them. "In order to seek what your fate is, a clear inner eye is needed, and immediate guidance from the stars above."

And so that was why Ron was stuck outside, standing in the snow, trying to calculate the coordinates of the stars with a hand-held telescope and a notebook.

"Can't even tell which constellations are which," he muttered to himself through chattering teeth, "How the hell am I suppose to tell which stars to look for?"

He sighed, wondering why in the first place he was actually doing his Divination homework. Not like he cared about that type of magic at all or that clueless Professor who taught it. Standing alone in twenty-degree weather wasn't too pleasing.

Yet what else did he have to do? This project was worth a lot of credits, and so he couldn't fail it. It wasn't as if he was doing too well in his other classes either.

Kicking a pile of snow with his boot, Ron grumbled to himself as he tried focusing his telescope at the night sky. He hated this and hated this more because he had to do it alone. Even standing outside freezing his toes off would have been more enjoyable if Harry was around to do it with. But Harry had disappeared somewhere, and Ron didn't have the time to find him. A severe curfew was put on all students since Voldemort's uprising, and as Ron could only be out for so long.

"And that's the Little Dipper right there."

What? Ron put down his telescope and looked around. Who said that?

"How can you tell? It's as clear as mud to me."

Was that Harry? Ron moved from his spot by the Gryiffindor Tower and crept around the corner. On a low hill by the Forbidden Forest, two figures could be seen sitting on the snow. Ron put his telescope to his eye, and to his surprise, he saw Harry and Hermione sitting together stargazing. They huddled together on a blanket, and despite the darkness, Ron could see that they had an arm around each other. The first spark of jealousy ignited within him, along with surprise.

Harry and Hermione? Could have they...? And why didn't he ever know..? Ron felt the twinge of jealousy grow, fueled by hurt anger. Were they trying to keep this a secret from him? Were they trying to trick him like this?

How could he?? Ron thought angrily. How could that bastard- He stopped the train of thought at the shame of swearing at his best friend. But how could they? How come I never knew that Hermione and Harry were...? He felt his heart sink.

And I thought... Ron dropped the telescope, but didn't move to pick it up. Instead, he watched the two together in silence.

Their voices traveled well over the cold air, and so Ron could hear every word.

"Well, the handle starts right there," Hermione said, pointing her index finger upwards. She moved her hand as she traced out the form of the constellation for Harry. "And see how it just slopes down like that, and how those four dots connect to form the cup?"

Harry wasn't looking at the stars with her, however. "Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" he asked, in a voice so soft that Ron could hardly hear it.

"What? Curfew's not for half an hour."

"But you're cold." Harry brushed a gloved hand to Hermione's cheek. Hermione turned her head away from him in an embarrassed manner.

"Maybe a little," she said.

Harry replied with something that Ron couldn't hear well, and the two got up to head back inside.

Ron turned away from the scene and ran as fast as he could go. The cold bit fiercely at his nose and fingers, and made the tears that stung his eyes feel like ice. Ice tears.

***

God, everything just had to go Harry's way, doesn't it?? Ron tried to stop himself for sulking, pointing out that he should be happy for Harry, not mad at him. It's not my fault that Hermione chose him over me, he thought bitterly. It's not my fault that Harry is the perfect guy for her. It's not my fault that I'm not the hero of the day, the knight in shining armor who kills the dragon and wins the damsel's heart. I'm just the sidekick, the guy who always gets second-rate.

Ron kicked that the table leg and slammed his champagne glass on the tablecloth with a loud thunk. No one noticed, not even Harry. But of course, he was whispering something to Hermione again. They always shared secrets between each other, didn't they? Stuff that even Ron couldn't know. He felt like he was going to be sick. Being the sidekick is crap.

He sighed. I'll go, he thought, I'll just leave here for a while. Maybe if I don't see them together.... He got up from his seat and through past the other tables.

And while I'm still gone

On the quest for my song

I'm at your - celebration

The wedding cake was then being cut, and everyone's focus was on the married couple. Laughter was heard throughout the room as Harry and Hermione faced each other with a piece of cake in each hand, trying to just give each other a bite simultaneously. It was more of a miniature food fight than a tradition, for both had bits of frosting smeared of each others faces from missing each other, as they tried to eat off the other's fork. Hermione laughed out loud as she picked up a napkin to wipe Harry's face. When she leaned in close, Harry kissed her, getting more frosting on her face. The little children squealed with enthusiastic delight.

From the bar on the other side of the restaurant, Ron grinned sadly at the bartender and said, "A bottle for the odd one out."

He could here the laughter from where he sat. I can't stay here like this. He made a quick decision to himself. I'll leave them tonight, after I say good-bye. I won't see them again.

Yet will they notice that he's gone? Probably not; they have each now. Ron had no one.

And for the million hours that we were

Well I'll smile and remember it all

Then I'll turn and go

While your story's completed, mine is a

Long way from done

"Vhat are you doing here?"

Ron turned around on the bar stool and saw a heavy-built man walk towards him. Viktor Krum. Professional seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, just another one of the big names attending the wedding. Ron remembered that he was almost paralyzed every time he talked with him, too awed to say anything of much importance. Yet now, he didn't care if it was Cornelius Fudge himself that addressed him. Nothing really mattered much anymore.

Surprisingly, Krum pulled a seat up next to Ron. Ron gave him a sideways glance, then tipped back the bottle for a long drink. The coal black tuxedo Krum was in seemed to clash with his character, as if he didn't fit into such formal wear. The look on his face seemed to say the same thing, like he purposely didn't fit in with everyone else. Same with Ron.

"Dinner's ovar, and the dance floor's cleared. Hermione and Harry are having their first dance." Krum's accent had lessened over the years, and for the first time, he'd gotten the hang of saying Hermione's name properly. He leaned both elbows on the counter. According to the expression on his face, Krum didn't look too cheerful. In fact, Krum had spent most of his time alone in a corner of the restaurant, sipping from a glass of champagne. Ron, wallowing in his own misery, never realized why until now.

He propped up an elbow on the counter and faced Krum. "You love her too?" he asked softly.

"Who doesn't?"

I'm on a champagne high

Where will I be when I stop wondering why

On a champagne high

I'd toast to the future but that'd be a lie

On a champagne high

High...

Krum cast his eyes down on the counter and started tracing the grain of the wood with his finger. For the first time, Ron saw him truly grieved.

"I thought I vould be the vune that she loved," Krum shook his head and gazed at Ron. His dark eyes were strangely glassy in the dim bar lights. "Ve kissed," Krum mused, "And I thought-"

"What?" Ron's voice was heavy and dark. He felt like he wanted to punch the Bulgarian in the face.

"It vas years ago," Krum recovered. "The day Hermione left for home. The end of your fourth year."

Ron remembered how Hermione had blushed when Krum asked to speak with her those years ago at the station. Yet he never suspected...

"Ve're just friends now." Krum sighed and slumped in his seat. "I thought she vas too young and she thought I vas too old at the time. Four years apart, ve vere. Now that does not seem so far apart...." Krum glanced at the bottle Ron was holding. "You drinking?"

"Not anymore." Ron hastily got up. "They're dancing out there?"

Krum nodded.

"Maybe I'll join them for a quick waltz."

Your wagons been hitched to a star

Well now he'll be your thing that's new

Yeah what little I have you can borrow

'Cause I'm old and I'm blue...

The tables were cleared to form a nice expanse for the large crowd that mingled and weaved with each other. Music floated through the air. Couples swayed hand and hand. Ron looked at the youngsters in the room with amusement, as they frolicked about among the guests. Some of the girls were trying to get a hold of some of the boys to dance with, amounting to a wild goose chase through the room. A group of close friends were dancing around in a little circle. Yet eventually Ron knew that all circles had to break apart. You can't stay in a circle of friends forever.

In the center of the dance floor, Hermione and her father were slowly waltzing together. How sweet, the final dance with his daughter. Ron made his way to them and tapped the gentleman on the shoulder.

"May I have a final dance as well?" Ron asked solemnly. Hermione's father gave Ron a rough pat on the back.

"There has to be a last time for everything, isn't there?" he said warmly and stepped back for Ron.

Hermione put her arms around Ron's neck as Ron placed his hands on her waist. Gently, the two began to sway as a new song began.

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked. "I noticed you disappeared off somewhere about an hour ago."

At first, Ron couldn't answer, for he was distracted by the calm serenity surrounding her. She was so happy now, wasn't she?

"I just had to go somewhere for a moment," Ron answered quickly, knowing that his excuse sounded lame. "Bill was having some trouble with the kids."

"His daughter, right? She is only a couple months old; I saw her earlier tonight," Hermione said.

"She couldn't stop crying and his wife was busy with Todd," Ron added, mentioning another of his nephews. Strange, how his two oldest brothers got married. They were such adventurers before, and Ron still couldn't imagine them being family men now. Everyone seemed to be getting married.

A silence descended upon the two. Ron wanted to say something, anything. About how he felt about her marrying Harry. About how he had always loved her but never admitted it. About how he wondered whether Hermione felt the same way. But he couldn't bring himself to say the words. So, instead, the two remained silent, listening as the music flowed around them.

And for the million hours that we were

Well I'll smile and remember it all

Then I'll turn and go

While you story's completed, mine is a

Long way from done

The time between them was slipping too fast. Already, the song was slowing, ending, finishing. And with the end of the song, came the end of Ron's final chance to confess. For after that, Ron knew he was never going to see Hermione again. He couldn't bear the pain of seeing her face and knowing that she was with someone else.

He tightened his grip around Hermione's waist. He wanted to imprint this memory in his mind first. How the music flowed over them, encasing the scene in song. How the lights were dimmed, yet still bright enough for him to see every detail of Hermione's face clearly. And Hermione...

The way her face was shaped, with the delicate cheekbones framing her face. The little curl in her soft brown hair. The glint in her bright eyes, shining like stars. The smooth skin and how her nose turned up, just a bit, all small and neat and perfect.

Her dress, all silk and soft glory. Her scent of perfume, the small of lavender and peppermint. Her touch, as her arms wrapped around him in an affectionate embrace.

And how they danced, sweeping across the floor with utmost grace, as gentle as a unicorn's prance. Her airy step being in sync with his. How they fit together so perfectly this single moment! Ron wished they could be like this forever. Yet that cannot be.

Ron memorized it all in the most perfect light, so years from now, when he looked back on this moment, he would smile at the sight of his only love.

For there could only be Hermione for him. There was no doubt about that.

Ron took a deep breath, the picture complete. It was time. "Hermione?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes?" Hermione's face was filled with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You don't look too well.."

"I'm fine," Ron said quickly. "I have tell you something."

The song was on its final stanza. Ron had to be brief, for he wanted to talk while there was a distraction in the air that blocked unwanted ears.

"Hermione, I..." Ron hesitated.

"What is it?"

"I-I..." Ron swallowed hard, and it all came out in a rush. "I love you, Hermione," he said. "I always had."

The music ended, and Hermione stopped dancing. She loosened her hold for a bit, and Ron was afraid that he ruined the moment by saying what he did. He tensed up, awaiting her response.

Hermione looked straight into Ron's eyes and smiled. Then, she leaned forward and ever so gently... just ever so sweetly... just... so... brushed her lips against his for the slightest of seconds. Ron was stunned as she let go.

"I'll always love you too." Another bright smile as Hermione backed away to sit down again, leaving Ron by himself, standing in the middle of the dance floor as a new song started up.

Ron wasn't aware of himself walking off the dance floor. He wasn't aware of walking past the tables and out of the room. He wasn't aware of passing by the bar and of Krum getting up to go to him. He wasn't aware of anything at all but that tiny touch from her lips and the bittersweet words that echoed in his heart.

I'll always love you too....

A different love, Ron knew. The love a friend gives to a friend. Only that and nothing more.

Well I'm on a champagne high

Where will I be when I stop wondering why

"Ron," Krum was speaking to him, "Ron, are you all right?"

"Huh?" Ron snapped out of his astonishment.

"You looked like you vere drunk," Krum explained. "Do you need me to Apparate you home?"

"Oh, oh no," Ron said. "I'm okay."

On a champagne high

Toast to the future but that'd be a lie

He was heading toward the double doors out of the restaurant. Krum was walking alongside him. "The reception isn't ovar, Ron," he said. "Vhere are you going?"

Ron didn't answer as he pushed through the glass doors. The wizard crowd was gone, with only scarps of trash scattering the front of the restaurant and sagging security tape hanging from drooping poles by the sidewalk.

"Leaving early?" Krum suggested, trying anything he could to get a response from Ron.

"Yeah." Ron cast a sincere glance at Krum. "Tell Harry and Hermione I left, okay?"

On a champagne high

Where will I be when I stop wondering why

On a champagne high...

Krum nodded seriously. "Have any plans for latter tonight?"

"Nope." Ron slung his jacket over one shoulder. "You?"

"I'm going to the Leaky Cauldron afterwards and getting myself drunk on good Bulgarian vodka. Vill I see you there?"

"Nope." Ron looked ahead at the midnight streets. "Don't need it." He turned to Krum as he backed away, taking out his wand. "I'm already on a champagne high."

So high, so high, you left me undone

With a wave of his wand, he whispered the words, "Apparatus." With every beat of his heart, he whispered, Good-bye.

So high, so high, you left me undone.....