Laughing Blue Eyes

The ring is on my hand,

And the wreath is on my brow,

Satin and jewels grand,

Are all at my command,

And I am happy now.

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes. It was her wedding day, for goodness sakes. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. But it wasn't.

Draco swore he loved her, and Hermione believed him. For some unfathomable reason, he had denounced his father's evil ways and joined the Order of the Phoenix. She admired that, and admired Draco. But she didn't love him.

Hermione was in love with the memory of a boy, a boy who walked this earth no longer. A boy with laughing blue eyes, vivid red hair, and uncountable freckles.

Damn Voldemort. Hermione hoped that Satan reserved the deepest pit of hell for that...she could hardly call him a man. He was a beast. Voldemort had taken everything from her.

He had taken Ron. Not directly, but his Death Eaters followed his orders. She had lost the love of her life. But she was getting married anyways.

Hermione wondered how she could marry Draco when she was in love with Ron. She told herself that Ron would have wanted her to move on, to find love. But she couldn't help but be sad, on the happiest day of her life.

She well remembered the day that she had lost her love. It had started as a clear, sunny day, but soon the sun had been obliterated by smoke. The Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts, and the students had been forced to fight.

Hermione and Ron had fought desperately, as Harry sought out Voldemort. They knew it was Fate, knew that Harry had to kill Voldemort. He was their only hope. Ron had covered Hermione's back, and she had stood by him as they took on anyone who opposed them. They had made quite a sight, his height and vivid Weasley hair standing out in the mass of people, her long hair streaming out behind her. A fiery light in their eyes, determined expressions on their faces, they had fought back countless Death Eaters.

But one enemy spell had gotten through. Hermione had watched in slow motion as the jet of purple light had hit the brave boy beside her.

"RON!" she had screamed, as Ron fell to the ground. She rushed to kneel over him, grasping his hand. He had smiled up at her weakly.

"Hermione, love, this is it," he had said.

"No!" she cried desperately. "No, Ron, you'll be okay! We'll find a Healer, we'll fix you!"

"Hermione, listen to me. I'm dying."

"Don't say that, Ron! You're not dying. You'll get better!"

"Hermione, I won't get better. Tell Harry I'll miss him."

"He'll miss you more, Ron."

"Hermione, I have to tell you something important...I love you, Hermione."

"Ron," she sobbed, clinging to his hand. "I love you too, Ron!"

"I'll wait for you, Hermione. I'll watch over you."

He had died with a smile on his face.

"Ron! Don't leave me! Don't leave me alone!"

Footsteps roused her from her reverie, and Pansy Parkinson walked into the room.

"Hermione, we're ready to start," said Pansy. She caught sight of Hermione's tear streaked face and started fussing over her.

"Dear, dear, don't cry. You'll muss your makeup. Here, let me fix it."

Pansy cast a beauty charm on Hermione, causing the redness of her eyes to disappear, and her makeup to become perfect once more.

"There now," Pansy said, looking satisfied with her work. "You look beautiful, sweetie. Remember, this is the happiest day of your life!"

Hermione forced a smile. "I know, Pansy, I know." The two girls walked out of the room together, and Pansy went to take her place in the middle of the procession. The wedding music started to play as the flower girls walked into the sanctuary. Hermione took her father's arm. Mr. Granger looked proud, and love shone in his eyes as he looked at his only daughter.

"Hermione, love, you look wonderful," he said quietly.

"Thanks, dad," Hermione replied.

Then it was time for Mr. Granger to lead his daughter down the aisle. He had a proud smile on his face as they passed the guests, but Hermione couldn't help noticing the reproachful stares of the Weasleys.

Ron, she thought, and started to tear up again. Luckily, most of the guests took her tears to be ones of happiness, and smiled at her kindly. But Harry gave her a piercing look as she passed him.

And my lord he loves me well;

But when first he breathed his vow,

I felt my bosom swell--

For the words rang as a knell,

And the voice seemed his who fell

In the battle down the dell,

And who is happy now.

Draco smiled at her as she took his hand. The minister started to speak, and Hermione thought of the multitudes of others who had been married by those same words. Untold millions, who had been joined together, in love, in hate, in desperation, and in happiness.

She looked into Draco's eyes as the minister gave him his cue.

"Do you, Draco Octavius Malfoy, take this woman, Hermione Jane Granger, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

Draco smiled confidently at her as he said, "I do."

Hermione wondered what it would have been like if Ron had said those words. The Weasleys would have been smiling instead of frowning, and Hermione would have been happy instead of sad. The world would have been so different.

Ron and Draco were two different people. Draco was rich, arrogant, and used to getting his way. Ron was poor, kind, and used to being overshadowed by his brothers. Draco was the type who'd think you wanted to cry in peace, and Ron was the type who'd put his arms around you and tell you it would all be okay. Hermione wondered how she could have gotten here, about to be married to this man who was nothing like her dear Ron.

Ron had been everything to her. When she woke up in the morning, her first thought was of him. When she lay in her bed at night, her mind traveled to happy memories of him. How could she give everything to Draco, when she couldn't give him her heart?

"Do you, Hermione Jane Granger, take this man, Draco Octavius Malfoy, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

But he spoke to reassure me,

And he kissed my pallid brow,

While a revery came o'er me,

And to the church yard bore me,

And I sighed to him before me,

Thinking him dead D'Elormie,

"Oh, I am happy now!"

Hermione looked up into Draco's eyes, and she saw the light of love shining from them. If she couldn't have Ron, surely Draco was the next best thing. Right?

Every particle of her being cried out to her to say no, to spare this man. He deserved better than this shell of a woman, who was in love with a memory.

She remembered her time at Hogwarts, days spent with Ron and Harry. She had been truly happy then. Hermione had always felt out of place, like she didn't fit in with her friends. Then she had gone to Hogwarts and met her new best friends. Harry treated her like she was something, like she was special. Ron teased her about her books and her hair, but he did it in such a happy manner that she knew he didn't mean it.

Hermione had lived for those days, the days she had been with Ron. She had known since third year that he was the one, but she hadn't wanted to say anything, for fear of ruining this beautiful friendship she had found. Then one day it had all come crashing down.

Ron had sought her out in the library, and made some crack about her bookish habits as usual. Then he had smiled at her, and her comeback died on her lips. His smile faded as well, and he looked at her with something amazing in his eyes. By some strange connection, they had both realized that this was it. They were done with friendship, and were moving on to the next level.

She didn't know who had moved in first, but suddenly they had been kissing. She had never kissed anyone like that before, with her whole heart in it. It was passion, desperation, suppressed desire, and something that surpassed every one of those emotions. It had been love. They had kissed as only people in love could kiss, with the knowledge that this was right. That there would never be another whom they would kiss like that.

And then they heard the shouts. The battle had begun. She never got another chance to kiss him.

Abruptly, she was brought back to reality by Draco gently squeezing her hand. "I do," she said, with a confidence she didn't feel. She was binding herself to this man, this man whom she had never envisioned marrying. This man who had made her life miserable, but in the end had earned her trust.

And thus the words were spoken,

And this plighted vow,

And though my faith be broken,

And though my heart be broken,

Behold the golden token,

That proves me happy now.

Not her love, of course. Hermione had given her heart to Ron, her whole heart, and she had never gotten it back. But she trusted Draco. She could live with him, laugh with him, and bear his children. But she could never love him.

The ceremony was completed, and the kiss given. Draco's kiss was nothing like Ron's kiss. There was trepidation, hesitation, and the fear that this was all wrong. But they kissed anyway.

The newly married couple headed out to the churchyard, followed by their guests. The Weasleys, it seemed, had decided to be happy for Hermione, and were throwing rice as enthusiastically as any others.

Hermione was heartened by that, and thought that maybe this could work out after all. She could live with this blonde haired man who was holding her hand. She could make it work. Because she had to.

Not a day would go by when Hermione's thoughts would not turn to Ron. She would think of her happy days and smile reminiscently. Draco would ask her what she was thinking about, and she'd tell him it was nothing. But it would always be something.

Hermione knew that she would never love Draco the way she had loved Ron. She'd never wake up in the morning with thoughts of him. She'd never keep herself company with fond memories of him. She'd never revel in his kisses without wishing that it could be Ron who held her tightly. But she had to make this work. It was too late to turn back now.

As Hermione and Draco started to enter the Muggle limousine they had hired for the occasion, Hermione turned back for one last look at her friends and family.

And then she saw him. Standing in front of the crowd, with no smile gracing his lips. The boy she had given up, the boy with the laughing blue eyes. Those blue eyes no longer held laughter, but were full of reproach. Hermione opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. It couldn't be Ron, it couldn't be. He was dead, she had gone to his funeral.

But it was Ron. She would have recognized him in the darkest room, merely by the quality of his presence. He stared intently at her as she gaped at him.

"Hermione, love," he said, his voice low and sad. "Why didn't you wait for me, Hermione? Hermione?"

Would God I could awaken!

For I dream I know not how,

And my soul is sorely shaken

Lest an evil step be taken--

Lest the dead who is forsaken

May not be happy now.

"Hermione! Hermione! Wake up, love!"

Hermione awakened, feeling strong arms around her, and a soft bed beneath her. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was shaking hard.

"Hermione, love, you were having a bad dream."

She looked up at the man who was holding her in his arms, the man with vivid red hair, uncountable freckles, and laughing blue eyes. The blue eyes now looked at her worriedly, not filled with reproach. Hermione let out a sigh.

"It was just a dream," she said, and her relief was so immense that she couldn't contain herself. She threw her arms around her husband.

"I love you, Ron," she said, in a tremulous voice.

"I love you too, 'Mione," Ron replied sleepily. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Ron."