Remember Me

Harry paused on his third loop around Ron's bedroom. He was pacing again. Dammit. He tried to sit back down on the bed but that didn't work. Moments later he was moving around the room again, hands twisting and heart thudding. Where the hell had Ron gotten to? He was doing a bloody rotten job as best man. Harry blew out an exasperated sigh.

When he heard the soft footfalls on the staircase leading to the room, his heart ceased thudding and jumped straight into his throat. It couldn't be time already.

"Come in," he croaked when a knock sounded.

"Harry," Sirius asked, brow creasing, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry waved a hand, but it was shaking so badly it looked like he was waving goodbye.

He expected more serious concerns from his godfather and was thrown off when he began to laugh instead. "I imagine you've been told several times how like your father you are, Harry. And I'm going to add one more onto the pile. When I came to tell James the ceremony was about to begin, he looked ready to bounce straight out the window with nerves. You don't look much more composed."

"I don't know what it is, Sirius. I love her more than my own life. I know she loves me. I should be happy, not scared to death. Honestly, I walked into that cave with less fear than I feel right now.

"And it would help a great deal if you would stop laughing," Harry ground out between his teeth. "Why did you come up here, anyway?"

"I came to give you something," Sirius' face sobered at once. "After your parents died," he paused to clear his throat. "After I watched Hagrid fly off with you, I took a few stolen moments to search the house. I knew I couldn't stay around long enough to look after Lily and James, but I had to get the pin before I left."

"Pin?" Harry asked.

"This pin," Sirius dug into the pocket of his robes and removed something tiny. "I've been holding it for you in my Gringott's vault all these years. And since James gave it to Lily on their wedding day, I thought it appropriate that I give it to you on yours."

Harry held out his hand for the trinket. It was a delicate gold pin in the shape of a stag. "Prongs," Harry whispered.

"Exactly so." Sirius wiped a hand over his face and Harry pretended not to see the wetness there.

Harry ran a finger over the delicate pin before handing it back to Sirius. "Would you take it to Hermione for me?"

"Of course," Sirius smiled.

^*^*^*^*

Harry wouldn't have been pleased to know that on the opposite side of the house, in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom, Hermione was in much better shape.

She'd planned this affair within an inch of its life and knew everything was running in perfect order. Putting Ginny in charge of it had assured that. The only stumbling block had been Mrs. Granger. Hermione's mother, elated at having her only child returned, had wanted to go all out. Invite the whole wizarding world and damn the cost. But neither Harry nor Hermione wanted that. So she had conceded to their request to keep the wedding small and private. After so much of their lives spent in the public eye, they wanted this kept among only their family and closest friends.

To appease Mrs. Granger, they let her plan an elaborate reception for after their honeymoon.

Keeping the secret hadn't been as difficult as they'd imagined. Mrs. Weasley had offered them the Burrow's large back yard for the ceremony. Madam Malkin had agreed to go to Hermione's house to fit her wedding robes. Georg Tambor had gone to the Burrow to show Harry the rings he'd designed. It was a mark of the esteem they were held in that no one mentioned a thing.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, at the flowing white robes that caressed the floor when she moved, satisfied that everything was perfect.

"Still needs something, dear," the mirror piped up again. They'd been fussing for nearly half an hour, but the mirror kept insisting the same thing.

"I'm assuming you have the whole old, new, borrowed, blue thing taken care of," Mariah quipped, forcing a joviality she didn't feel knowing Ron was somewhere in this house.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "I'm wearing the earrings Mum wore at her wedding, borrowed. The handkerchief is old, Grandmother Granger's. You've given me the hair combs. And the blue is for me to know and Harry to find out," she giggled.

"Then I don't know what we could be missing," Mariah glanced at the mirror again, almost daring it to contradict her.

"Mariah," Hermione began, but stopped when her friend glared at her.

"Don't, Hermione. Wild horses couldn't have kept me away from your wedding, but let's not go into what happened between Ron and me, okay? Believe me, you're better off not knowing."

Hermione sighed. Ever since Mariah had arrived yesterday, she'd been trying to broach the subject. Mariah had thwarted her at every turn. So she'd let it drop, just as Mariah had respected her privacy when she was Jane. Hermione owed her that much and more.

A knock sounded, breaking the tension. Mariah went to answer it as Hermione returned to the dressing table to finish taming her hair. As confident as she appeared, Hermione still felt as though her stomach had grown wings and was trying to fly away.

"Who is it, Mariah?" She turned to see why it had grown so quiet. Hermione jumped to her feet and launched herself into Sirius' arms. "I'm so glad you made it," she gushed as Sirius spun her once around and returned her to the ground. "Mariah?"

Mariah stood with the door handle still in her hand, staring at Harry's godfather with her mouth agape. "Sirius Black?" she whispered.

"The one and only. Don't worry, my dear. I'm not nearly as dangerous as the Prophet made me out to be. Hermione, you look beautiful, as always. I just came to deliver this and then I'm off to try and calm my godson down again."

"Again? Is he nervous?" Hermione couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face.

"I'd say anxious is a better word. See you at the altar." Sirius placed a kiss to her forehead, placed a bundle into her hand and left without another word.

"Are you okay?" Hermione removed the door handle from Mariah's hand and shut the door before opening the parcel Sirius delivered.

"Yeah," Mariah breathed. "He kinda gives new meaning to drop dead gorgeous, doesn't he?"

Hermione chuckled, but stopped when she read the note.

Mione,

Sirius has just brought this to me. As my Dad gave it to my Mum on their wedding day, I am giving it to you. Until we meet at the altar, love,

Harry.

Hermione gasped as she unwrapped the golden stag. Saying nothing, she pinned it to her wedding robes and glanced again at the mirror.

"Perfect, my dear," the mirror praised. Hermione agreed wholeheartedly.

Before she could get her bearings, another knock sounded. Hermione and Mariah glanced at each other and Hermione swallowed audibly. Mariah swung the door open and Ron stood there, grinning wildly.

"It's time. Dumbledore's arrived. Everyone's seated. And Harry's just about paced a rut in the floor of my room."

Ron cut his eyes to Mariah's. The smile disappeared, but he managed a curt nod. "Mariah."

"I was just leaving," she said shortly and swished past Ron. He followed right on her heels.

"Wait," he called to her rapidly retreating back.

"I can't talk to you, Ron." She turned and faced him, eyes lowered. "I had to be here for Hermione, but I can't talk to you. I promised."

"Promised who? Why?" Ron's face was growing redder by the moment as his frustration grew. He saw her turn to leave and grabbed her shoulders, holding firm until she looked him in the eyes. The sadness he saw there staggered him.

"Please don't do this to me," she nearly wept. "If you care for me at all..."

The soft voice combined with the sheen of tears in her eyes just about undid him. "All right, then." He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I care for you a great deal, Mariah." Ron turned and walked away, his heart not quite broken...but aching terribly. But this was a joyous occasion, he reminded himself heading back into the room towards Hermione.

"Ready to tell me what's going on with you two?" Hermione's brow creased as Ron came back into the room.

"It's nothing, Hermione. Forget it, okay?" Ron said blankly. A silence followed, and their eyes met. Then she seemed to remember his initial reason for coming to the room and began grinning like a fool.

"So this is it?" Hermione's voice raised with every word.

"Yeah, unless you want to ditch the stupid prat and run off with me," Ron teased.

"Tempting," she pretended to consider for a moment, "but I think I'll stick with the other guy."

Ron slung an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the backyard.

Hermione took her father's arm as the music began. Mariah placed a quick kiss to her cheek and preceded her down the aisle to where Harry and Ron stood waiting. Ginny's outdone herself, she thought as she walked under the latticework ceiling Ginny'd constructed and threaded with flowers.

Then she saw Harry, and all other thoughts fled. Dressed in robes of deep green, and hair as unkempt as usual, he looked simply wonderful. His shy smile and fiery green eyes intensified as their gazes connected.

Harry stood dumbfounded. Never in his life had he seen anything more beautiful than Hermione as she walked towards him. She'd insisted on following the Muggle custom of the groom not seeing the wedding dress, and Harry had thought it comical. After all, wedding robes were pretty much the same as day-to-day ones, just white, so where was the mystery? He knew the moment he saw her. For it wasn't just the robes, it was the woman wearing them. And the combination nearly knocked him off his feet.

"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore touched his shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked, still unable to drag his eyes from Hermione's warm brown gaze. A rumble of laughter ran through the assorted guests, and Harry realized he'd been so caught up in Hermione, he'd lost track of the ceremony. "Sorry," he grinned sheepishly and turned his attention to Dumbledore.

Hermione gripped his hand, the ceremony progressed, and they were joined, husband and wife.

*^*^*^*^

Dawn had just broken over the horizon as the paper landed on the bed with a soft flop. The delivery owl swooped back out the window without a sound.

"Harry," Hermione sat straight up, tucked the bed sheet under her arms and unrolled the paper. "Wake up, it's here!"

"Mmmph," Harry grunted and rolled over.

"Harry!" Hermione swatted him on the head with the paper when he faked a loud snore.

"What? For someone who kept me up until," he glanced at his watch, "an hour ago, you certainly have a surplus of energy this morning."

"But Ginny's announcement should be in here, aren't you curious at all?" Ginny's boyfriend worked at the Prophet and had guaranteed he'd send a copy the moment it was off the press.

"I was there, love. I was an active participant," he opened one eye and squinted. The look on her face was priceless. "Okay, I'm a little curious. Read it to me."

"Let me just find it. Oh my. Harry, they put us on the front page."

"How surprising," Harry mumbled, clearly not surprised at all.

"'Potter, Granger Wed in Private Ceremony. Special to the Daily Prophet by Ginny Weasley. Yesterday, two of the most noted names in the wizarding world, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, were joined in marriage at the home of Arthur and Molly Weasley. The bride was resplendent in robes of shimmering white adorned only by a gold pin, a gift from the groom. The groom wore robes of deep green velvet. The couple exchanged simple gold rings in a ceremony presided over by their former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Mariah Jamison, an American friend of Granger's, was maid of honor and Ronald Weasley, manager of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, was best man.

Although the wedding was kept secret, as well as the honeymoon location, there will be a reception for all those wishing to congratulate the couple in one week's time at Jensen's Hall in Diagon Alley.'

"It's a bit too short and to the point for Ginny," Harry noted gratefully. "I'd half expected a full page dissertation on the ceremony, complete with our biographies."

"It probably was," Hermione grinned back at him, the sheet falling unnoticed to her lap. "I'm guessing Iain edited it a bit."

"Poor Iain," Harry sympathized.

Beside the brief article, there was a black and white photo of Harry and Hermione, smiling, with their arms entwined. Harry looked distinctly uneasy, and Hermione simply beamed.

"Honestly, Harry. Couldn't you have come up with a better smile on our wedding day?" Hermione glanced over at him.

"No," he said, running a finger down her bare shoulder. "I had more important things on my mind."

"Like what?" she said, affronted.

"Like this," Harry grinned and took the paper from her hands before rolling her beneath him.

*^*^*^*^*^

After a week hidden away in Ireland, where they saw very few sights and very much of each other, Harry and Hermione made their way towards Jensen's Hall.

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Both had hoped they could simply walk through the crowd unnoticed for a while. Fred and George Weasley had other ideas. Before anyone else arrived, they'd placed a charm on the doors. The moment the newlyweds crossed the threshold, a loud booming voice announced:

"They're here! They're here! Gather 'round, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Potter are here!"

Harry put his head in his hand and Hermione blushed several attractive shades of scarlet. When Harry wiped a hand across his face, Hermione snapped her gaze to his. "Harry, did you just..." but she was interrupted by a throng of well wishers that were so enthusiastic, Harry and Hermione were nearly trampled to death.

After nearly a half-hour of backslapping and cheek kisses, they reached their table. Harry cast a wry look at Ron, who had set up the seating. So much for his request not to have a head table. Ron merely smirked in response.

"You only get married once, Harry, right?"

"Right," answered Hermione.

Ron laughed again. "The boss speaks. Anyway, you may as well be the complete center of attention."

"I'm gonna remember this, Weasley," Harry warned.

Not long after they'd taken their seats, food appeared on the tables and the cacophony of hundreds of people eating at the same time filled the hall. As they ate, Harry and Hermione waved hellos to their friends and former teachers. To Harry, it seemed everyone they'd ever met was here. He was both thrilled and awed by that fact.

A quiet clang of silver on crystal quieted the room down. A fairly neat trick, considering the amount of people in the hall. All of the occupants of a table near the front stood. Harry recognized his former Quidditch teammates at once. Oliver Wood spoke for the group. "If you'd all raise your glasses," he paused while they did. "A toast. To the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever seen and to the only witch who'll ever ride his broomstick."

This time it was Harry's turn to blush beet red, but he was laughing as he did so. And since Wood was blushing as well, he guessed that the toast had come from someone else -- like a redheaded Beater or two.

"Seriously, though" Wood continued, "to Harry and Hermione. May you have days of joy, years of happiness and a lifetime of peace."

Glasses raised and choruses of "here, here" were uttered around the room.

Ron stood next. "Four years ago, many of us gathered to say goodbye to a cherished friend. And now, through the grace of an imperfect charm, we have welcomed her home." He turned toward them, a faint glistening in his eyes. "Harry, Hermione, we've been best friends almost from the outset. We've been through more than most together, and we've come through it all as close as ever. You may not know this, but there are some of us in this very room who spent our seventh year wondering exactly how long it was going to take the two of you to admit what we all knew. Which reminds me, Dean and Seamus, you each owe me ten Galleons." Ron paused for the laughter to subside. "And now," he raised his glass, "to my best friends. Together for now, together forever, as it was always meant to be."

Mariah stood up right after Ron finished embracing Harry and Hermione. "To my best friend and the man who brought her home. Even when you didn't remember him, Hermione, you knew Harry was someone special. Now that I've gotten to know him, I have to agree. It took a while, and some imperfect plans of a not-so-brave witch, but I am glad for whatever small part I had in reuniting you. Have a wonderful life together, one of peace, of love, and of everlasting joy." Hermione saw her cut her eyes towards Ron and wipe them furtively.

Sirius raised his glass next, "To the two that saved my life, and a promise to my godson that when he turns into a typical man and says the wrong thing at the wrong time, I'll be there with Buckbeak to return the favor."

The toasting went on for nearly half an hour. Some serious, some lighthearted. Some, with further references to Harry's broomstick or wand, were downright raunchy.

After several covert motions and one downright threat from Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and Hermione stood. "I was elected to speak for both of us, because everyone knows how much Harry enjoys standing in front of large groups of people. A bit odd for a teacher, if you ask me." She leaned over and kissed his cheek and waited for the chorus of approval to subside. "I'm not one for long speeches myself, so I'll just say thank you all for coming. After years of being away, and then returning," she paused and gripped Harry's hand, "seeing all of you here, I finally feel like I've come home.

"But one good thing did come from living as an American Muggle for four years," she continued. "I got to hear some wonderful music." Hermione felt rather than saw Harry's confused expression as she reached for her wand and waved it over the crowd. "And one of the best things about being a bride is that you can demand the groom dance with you, no matter how much he protests."

Overhead, strains of music and a woman's voice filled the air. "I will remember you, will you remember me..." And as the words began to have meaning to Harry, he smiled and took her hand, pulled her close and they danced.

"You've gotten better," Hermione murmured in his ear.

"It's not me, love, it's my partner," he whispered back. Harry touched his lips to her forehead and continued swaying to the music. Every word echoed his emotions throughout the long and twisted road they'd walked to arrive at this moment. "I love you, Mione."

"I love you, too," she smiled into his shoulder. Pulling back slightly, Hermione took his left hand in hers and laced their fingers together. As the two gold bands touched, a warmth radiated through their palms. Then a filigree design of intertwined lightning bolts appeared on the previously plain gold surface. Their eyes met, their souls sighed and their hearts beat as one.