Big Deal

Hermione sat alone on the sofa in her sitting room, her hands cupped around a steaming mug of tea. She was attempting to read her new book that she had purchased the previous day, but she had only succeeded in reading the same page ten times, and she still wasn't sure what it said. Her thoughts kept drifting to Ron. It was horrible, picturing him with Lavender. She's much too shallow for him, she thought viciously. But he's happy with her... She remembered Lavender's squealing over Ron. Doesn't that girl have any tact? She kept prattling on, not having any consideration to the fact that he used to be mine...and not hers.

This is just perfect, Hermione thought. Ron's going to marry Lavender, they'll be wonderfully happy forever, and I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life because I can't stop pining over my ex! Impatiently, she brushed her hair away from her face and attempted again to concentrate on her book. I must be the last single witch in all of England. Lavender's got Ron, Parvati's got...her fiancé, whatever his name was, Ginny's got Neville, and I have no one. I have Hogwarts, a History. Everyone's married or engaged, or in a serious relationship. Hermione was happy that her friends had found love. Well, she was happy for most of them, anyway. There was no way she could be happy for Ron and Lavender. Just the thought of them being together left a vile taste in her mouth.

For years, people had always titled Hermione as "the cleverest witch of her age". Right. I may be a clever witch, but I'm not a clever woman. I got scared and I pushed him away -- right into Lavender's arms. Why would any girl in her right mind let a chap like Ron get away? I can't believe I let him go... "It's so good to catch up with old friends!" Lavender had said. Hmph. She and I were never friends. She knew very well about Ron's and my relationship. "She calls herself a friend, but she just kept rubbing it in!" Hermione finished aloud and slammed her book down on the table. She wasn't going to get any reading done today.

A familiar voice broke through Hermione's thoughts.

" 'Mione! You there?"

"Over here, Ginny," Hermione closed her book and looked over at the fireplace where Ginny's head was dancing among the flames.

"Neville and I were going over plans for the wedding, and I wanted to ask you if you would be my Maid of Honour."

A genuine smile broke across Hermione's face. "I'd love to, Gin! Thank you!"

Ginny grinned as well. "Well, who else would it be?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, thinking about something. "Say, Ginny - has Neville picked a best man yet?"

Ginny looked slightly troubled. "No, not yet. He was thinking but we're not sure..." she stumbled over her words. "Hermione, do you think it would be all right if he asked Harry?"

"Well," Hermione started off slowly, "I've seen it customary in a lot of weddings where if the groom doesn't have a brother, the bride's brother is usually the best man. Customs and old jealousies aside, though, there's still the issue of Harry's and your history together."

"I know," Ginny sighed. "Neville can't decide between Harry and Ron -"

Hermione had a flash of a tall, redheaded Best Man dancing with the Maid of Honour at the wedding.

" - We want Harry to know how good a friend he is to us both, still, you know, after everything. And then, well, we picture the Best Man toast, and we see Ron making the speech."

"Maybe," Hermione was getting an epiphany, "you could have both of them. Both of them up at the altar with you. Harry could could hold the rings during the ceremony, and Ron could make the toast at the reception. The rest of your brothers are going to be groomsmen, right?"

Ginny nodded. "That sounds like it might work," she still seemed slightly uncertain.

"Ginny, why don't you come sit down, I'll make you a cup of tea," Hermione offered. "Your legs must be starting to cramp.

A minute later, Ginny stepped through the fireplace, brushing some ash off her clothes. Hermione took another mug from her cupboard and poured some tea for her friend. The two girls sat companionably on the sofa, sipping their tea.

" 'Mione, don't forget the engagement party on Saturday afternoon. Come 'round to the Burrow for tea."

Hermione smiled. "Of course I won't forget. It's been on my calendar for three weeks!"

Ginny smiled as well. "I suppose I'm a little nervous. About the wedding," she added quickly, "not the marriage."

"You're really happy with Neville, aren't you?" Hermione asked somewhat wistfully.

Ginny seemed to glow. "I really am...he's wonderful, Hermione." She pushed back a strand of her fiery hair, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the engagement ring, noting to herself the difference between Ginny's ring - a modest emerald flanked on either side by two tiny diamonds - and the flashy rock that adorned Parvati's finger.

Hermione remembered back to one of many conversations she had had with Ron on the subject of their future, marriage and children.

The two of them were sitting on a sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room. The room was, save for them, wonderfully deserted. Ron played with Hermione's hair absently. " 'Mione?"

"Mmm?" Hermione said, absorbed in her book.

"I love your hair."

Hermione chuckled and lay her book down. "It's a frizzy mess, Ron, honestly."

"I know. But I like it that way. It's not just straight and boring like most girls -- it's just like you -- bouncy, radiant, and with a mind of its own." He grinned. "I can just picture it...our kids will all have bushy red hair."

"Our kids?" Hermione repeated, slightly uneasy. Kids...that was quite a permanent thing to be thinking about...especially at seventeen.

Ron nodded. "Yes. When we get married and have kids. All seven of them with lots of bushy red hair. They'll have your brains...my Quidditch skills..."

"Seven!?" Hermione repeated, aghast.

"Oh, yes. A whole Quidditch team." Ron grinned at her. "These kids will be flying before they can walk."

"Seven?!" Hermione repeated again, in shock. She was an only child, she couldn't imagine such a big family. She felt queasy when she thought of being a mother of seven. "Ron, who is going to be looking after these seven children?"

Ron looked at her and furrowed his brow. "You, of course. I'll be the world famous Auror, dreading those nights when an assignment takes me away from my wife and family."

"Ron..." Hermione trailed off. The notion that she would also want a career hadn't even occurred to him. He figured she would be like his mother, staying at home with seven children. What was it Mum called it? Oh, yes. "barefoot and pregnant". Hermione rarely thought that far into the future. When she did, Ron was always there, of course, he was just...off to the side somewhat. She softened as she looked at Ron. He was giving her a look that was a cross between curiosity and worry. "I just don't think I'm mother material. I wouldn't be a good mum to one, let alone seven..."

"Bollocks!" was the reply.

The subject of marriage and children had been dropped for the day, but Ron had brought it up quite often, making Hermione increasingly uncomfortable. It became so much that Hermione felt suffocated in the relationship. She could never bring herself to even think of breaking up with him for more than a few seconds, because she couldn't imagine life without Ron. Also, one look at him made her knees go weak and she lost all ability for coherent thought.

What was I so bloody afraid of? Hermione berated herself. All I wanted was a little space, her rationality reminded her. He was the one who stormed out. A fresh wave of anger passed over her as she decided that Ron had been wrong that day. Also, it was Lavender's fault she was so miserable today. She just kept going on and on, rubbing it in about how perfect he is and how damn happy they are. I'm only jealous of their happiness, Hermione insisted to herself. I want that for myself. As much as she stubbornly claimed that was the reason she was upset, there was a nagging voice at the back of her mind and a feeling in her heart that knew the reason she was so upset was that she did want what Lavender had - and that was Ron.