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ficsbydeenasTitle: Hermione Granger and the Life-Size Wedding Favour
Rating: PG13
Pairing: R/Hr, H/G
Summary: Getting fitted for a bridal dress is bad enough when you're a normal witch. But Ginny's eight-months pregnant with twins...
Hermione Granger
and
the Life-Size Wedding Favour
A sharp rap at the front door drew Hermione's attention away from the seating arrangements she'd been working on. But before she could get up and answer the door, she heard her mother's voice.
"Goodness, Ginevra! You're fit to burst!"
Mother, not today, please.
"Don't I know it," Ginny Potter answered, making her way to the dining room, were Hermione was working. Ginny's footfalls and heavy breathing announced her arrival, making it unnecessary for her to announce her presence.
"Hi, Ginny," Hermione said, looking up from the poster board. "How are you feeling?" She knew, without Ginny answering that her friend was tired, crabby and irritable with occasional bouts of crying.
"Do I look as bad as I feel?" Ginny met Hermione's eyes as she sat and grimaced, as one of the babies in her belly gave her a swift kick in the ribs. "Because Harry told me so."
Hermione let out a nervous laugh. Ginny was eight months pregnant with twins and at this point, Hermione doubted that her girlfriend would be able to make it to the wedding in five shorts days. While her pregnancy had gone fairly well, the last few months had been extremely difficult on the younger witch. She didn't get out of the house much anymore, and Harry always made sure that he went with her.
Hermione gave Ginny a silent look that affirmed Harry's remark earlier in the day. "I'm afraid so. Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I rest everyday. I'm cooped up in that blasted house all day and Harry never lets me lift anything heavier than Hedwig and on top of that," she paused to take a deep breath, "Mum's planning on moving in."
"Oh no. Really?" Hermione leaned forward and placed her hand on the one resting on the protruding belly.
She loved Molly Weasley, really she did. But a few months into Ginny's pregnancy, Molly became something akin to a vulture, hovering about her daughter, making sure that she didn't tax her body too much. Her three grandsons had been born in other countries, and she was taking full advantage of having her daughter so close. Instead of being a calming influence, Molly raised Ginny's dander more often than not.
"Yep. Could I have a glass of ice water?"
Hermione jumped out of her chair.
"Oh, of course! I'm sorry I didn't offer!"
"And Hermione?"
"Yes?" Hermione asked as she turned around.
"Can I have some of that crushed ice that comes out of the door?" Ginny' s smile was as bright as the yellow tablecloth that adorned the oak table.
"Sure," Hermione giggled before leaving for the kitchen.
-----
"You really want to go with her?" Ron asked Harry, a strange look on his face while they sat in the back garden of the Granger's home. "I mean, she's right scary these days, mate."
"Don't remind me. Remember what happened on St. Patrick's Day?" Harry shook his head at the thought and Ron burst out in hearty laughter.
The previous month, Harry and Ron went out with Seamus Finnigan to celebrate the Irish holiday. They'd gone to four different pubs in Dublin, and upon arriving at Harry's home, the three young men were greeted with an irate, pregnant woman who immediately hexed them with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, which coupled with their drunken state, made them queasy and empty the contents of their stomachs into the fireplace.
"I have to go with her. No one else can manage her these days…not even your mum."
"You're kidding, right?" Ron nearly choked on the Butterbeer he'd been drinking.
"I wish I was. Her magic is out of control and her moods change on a Knut. Unless you want your sister demolishing Diagon Alley this afternoon, I need to go with her." Harry took a swig of his drink as he watched Ron's face as he tried to process the information.
"Well then, it's a good thing you're an Auror, I reckon. She has her own Ministry-approved bodyguard."
"It's not her I'm trying to protect, it's everyone else that needs protecting from Ginny."
"What did you just say Harry?"
Shit, Harry thought. I'm done for.
"Er, nothing?"
Smooth, Potter, real smooth. Maybe she'll hit you with a castration charm next.
Ginny gave him a look that told Harry that she was in fact, thinking about that exact same thing.
"Well, girls, Harry, shall we go?" interrupted Maggie Granger.
Harry had never been so glad to have that woman around. She had an easy, unassuming way about her that could relax the most high-strung person. And that's exactly what Ginny needed.
"Ron, you're sure you don't want to join us? I mean, poor Harry will be all alone with us ladies," she stated to her future son-in-law. "Besides, I know how much you like to ride in cabs."
It was true. Over the past year, Ron had grown very fond of the Muggle form of transportation and on his and Hermione's outings in Muggle London, he urged her to take the shiny black cabs. Ron felt like a prince riding around.
Ron's tell-tale flush answered for him and he stood up and placed an arm around Maggie.
"You sure know the way to a bloke's heart, Mags," he teased and placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
-----
"No, no, no, no, no!" Ginny screamed at Hermione while stamping her foot on the carpeted floor. "I am NOT wearing this! It looked good four months ago, but now…it's hideous, Hermione!" Tears were starting to fill her eyes as Hermione stepped into the dressing room.
Hermione clamped her mouth tightly shut against the laughter that threatened to bubble out. Ginny, in all her pregnant glory, looked, for lack of a better term, like a life-size wedding favour. The lavender dress, which was supposed to have a generous empire waistline, was tight around her belly and revealed entirely too much cleavage for a tasteful wedding.
"Well…" Hermione trailed off, trying to find the right words,
"I am not wearing this, Hermione!" Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest and began to pout.
"Ginny, the wedding's in five days—"
"Hey, what's the prob—Ginny! I think you outgrew that size a couple months ago!" Ron, unlike his fiancée, burst out in laughter at his sister's expense, earning him a stern look from Hermione.
Ginny's face began contorting into various shapes; she looked like she was going to cry, scream, yell, explode and pass out all at the same time. None of those things happened, but the lights of the shop flickered, the mirror cracked and there was the sound of smashing outside the fitting room. Peals of terror rang through the bridal shop and the sound of heavy footsteps came toward the dressing room. It was Harry.
"Ginny?" His face was filled with worry and he immediately ran to his wife, knowing instinctively that she had caused the ruckus out in the shop. She'd done this before on several occasions due to stress, anxiety, fear and basically, any emotion that caused her to feel anything more than relaxed. In short, she was a loose cannon. "Gin, take a deep breath!"
Ignoring everyone else who was in the small fitting room, Ron, Hermione and Maggie, Harry quickly crossed the tiny room and took Ginny in his arms. She was sweating and shaking, a sure sign that she was on the verge of an enormous magical break. He helped her to sit on the bench and knelt on the floor in front of her, gently stroking her belly the way the Healer told him, hoping to relax her. He whispered softly to his wife, soothing words that only they knew.
Hermione watched, mesmerized by the change that was coming over her friend and the obvious connection between the two of them. She'd long admired how obvious their affection was for one another. She smiled to herself, hoping that she and Ron would have a bit of that as the years went on. Ron, who now was behind her, put his arm on her shoulder and began guiding her out of the room.
"Come on, babe. Let's leave them alone," he whispered, his eyes never leaving his sister and Harry. "He's got her under control."
With a final glance back at them, Hermione took his hand and left the fitting room.
-----
"Ha—Harry, I'm so—sorry," she got out between sobs as he held her. "Ron—he just insulted me and then it ju—just…"
"Ron insulted you?" Every serene thought he'd just had went out the window at Ginny's words. Ron knew how sensitive she was these days and he just had to go and open his big mouth. "What did he say?" His tone was more angry than calming.
"It…it doesn't matter…don't go off half-cocked, Harry---"
"No. He needs to be reminded exactly how to keep his fucking mouth shut!" Harry turned around in a huff and left the fitting room, making the drapes flutter in his wake.
Outside the room, he immediately alighted on Ron, standing in the corner and laughing as he spoke with Hermione and her mother.
He's laughing!
"What the hell did you say to her?" Harry gave Ron a shove. "You just had to go and get her all upset, didn't you? If you so much as cough in her direction before this wedding happens, I will personally guarantee that she," he paused, pointing to Maggie, "never becomes a grandmother!"
"Harry, really, it was nothing," Ron answered, wearing a bit too much of a grin in Harry's mind. "She looked like she was a stuffed—"
Ron never finished his phrase due to Harry's fist meeting his jaw. Ron fell onto the floor and Hermione pushed Harry against the wall while Maggie went over to see to Ron.
"Stop it! He didn't mean it, okay? Now go get Ginny." Hermione turned around and knelt beside Ron, waving her wand, obviously healing whatever damage he'd caused to Ron.
Ron looked up and gave him a scathing look and set his jaw, a sure sign that Ron was close to exploding himself. He said something to Hermione in a whisper and Maggie got up off the floor and moved towards Harry.
"He'll be fine. You didn't break anything," she told him. "Harry, look at me." She took Harry by the chin and turned his face toward hers.
Harry set his jaw and rolled his eyes. "What?"
"He was out of order back there," she said, nodding toward the fitting room, "but that wasn't really necessary. Let's go back and talk to Ginny and Helena and figure out what to do with the dress."
"Helena? Who's Helena? What's wrong with the dress? She had a fitting four months ago. It fit fine then." Harry began to panic. Why hadn't he seen what was wrong with Ginny? Fuck, he was a terrible husband…
"Harry! Harry!" Maggie snapped her fingers in front of his face and finally got his attention. "Come with me…" She pulled on his arm and they made their way back to the dressing room and found Ginny, still sitting on the bench, stroking her belly and singing to herself. "Ginny?"
She looked up and gave them a sad, forlorn look. "I'm sorry…it's…it's…" her lower lip began to quiver.
"Ginny, stop it," Maggie said quietly. "Harry, go get Helena…Madam Malkin…."
Harry nodded and left, returning quickly with the older witch.
"What seems to be the trouble, Mrs. Granger? Besides Mr. Potter's little outburst?" Madam Malkin looked over the top of her glasses at Harry in a very disapproving way, reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.
Harry walked back into the corner and kept his mouth shut, not wanting to make Ginny, or the other two women, upset.
"The dress…it's too tight," Ginny whimpered. "I feel like a sausage in it." Ginny could feel magic begin to bubble up inside her again.
"Well, we can't have that, now can we, Mrs. Potter. Stand up and let me see. And we'll just deactivate the mirror, shall we?" The woman took out her wand and disengaged the mirror so that it was just a part of the wall.
"I'd really like that when I'm shopping for swimsuits, Helena," Maggie said. "It would make things a lot easier on the self-esteem." The three women shared a laugh together as both Maggie and Madam Malkin helped Ginny to her feet.
Madam Malkin tutted and looked Ginny up and down. "Now, who fitted you last time you were here, Ginny?"
"Parvati."
"She didn't know you were having twins, did she?" Ginny shook her head. "She's a good seamstress, but a bit of a daft bird if you ask me. One should always ask a Prewett woman how many babies she's carrying. I learned that with your grandmother Prewett as well as your mother." She patted Ginny on the hand.
-----
Five days later, Ginny stood in front of a mirror, wearing a lilac dress with an empire waist. Madam Malkin had done wonders with the dress, having made more gores to the skirt and leaving them loose around the sides rather than sewing them together. The seamstress had also added chiffon to the waistline, right underneath the bodice.
"Hermione…" Ginny said with an ominous tone in her voice.
"Yes?" Hermione bit her lip, afraid of what Ginny would do next.
The last five days had been horrible. Whenever Ginny wasn't fretting about the dress, she was sending things flying about her house, making Harry nervous and jittery. Molly had moved into Grimmauld Place, despite her daughter's protestations, which only served to cause the tantrums to increase in frequency. After only three days of having her mother in the same house, Ginny kicked her mother out and threatened to move to Timbuktu if she were ever to grace her doorstep before the babies were born.
Needless to say, things had been a bit tense.
Ginny took a deep breath and turned to Hermione, presenting the bride with a small smile.
"You know, what?"
"What?" Hermione was shaking. "Please don't get angry. I've just got my hair the way I like it…"
"I still look like a wedding favour."
Hermione let out a giggle. It was true. The chiffon certainly sealed the deal. "And you have your own Jordan almonds wrapped up in there, too."
"More like a Christmas cracker…I'm gonna pop any day now."
Rating: PG13
Pairing: R/Hr, H/G
Summary: Getting fitted for a bridal dress is bad enough when you're a normal witch. But Ginny's eight-months pregnant with twins...
Hermione Granger
and
the Life-Size Wedding Favour
A sharp rap at the front door drew Hermione's attention away from the seating arrangements she'd been working on. But before she could get up and answer the door, she heard her mother's voice.
"Goodness, Ginevra! You're fit to burst!"
Mother, not today, please.
"Don't I know it," Ginny Potter answered, making her way to the dining room, were Hermione was working. Ginny's footfalls and heavy breathing announced her arrival, making it unnecessary for her to announce her presence.
"Hi, Ginny," Hermione said, looking up from the poster board. "How are you feeling?" She knew, without Ginny answering that her friend was tired, crabby and irritable with occasional bouts of crying.
"Do I look as bad as I feel?" Ginny met Hermione's eyes as she sat and grimaced, as one of the babies in her belly gave her a swift kick in the ribs. "Because Harry told me so."
Hermione let out a nervous laugh. Ginny was eight months pregnant with twins and at this point, Hermione doubted that her girlfriend would be able to make it to the wedding in five shorts days. While her pregnancy had gone fairly well, the last few months had been extremely difficult on the younger witch. She didn't get out of the house much anymore, and Harry always made sure that he went with her.
Hermione gave Ginny a silent look that affirmed Harry's remark earlier in the day. "I'm afraid so. Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I rest everyday. I'm cooped up in that blasted house all day and Harry never lets me lift anything heavier than Hedwig and on top of that," she paused to take a deep breath, "Mum's planning on moving in."
"Oh no. Really?" Hermione leaned forward and placed her hand on the one resting on the protruding belly.
She loved Molly Weasley, really she did. But a few months into Ginny's pregnancy, Molly became something akin to a vulture, hovering about her daughter, making sure that she didn't tax her body too much. Her three grandsons had been born in other countries, and she was taking full advantage of having her daughter so close. Instead of being a calming influence, Molly raised Ginny's dander more often than not.
"Yep. Could I have a glass of ice water?"
Hermione jumped out of her chair.
"Oh, of course! I'm sorry I didn't offer!"
"And Hermione?"
"Yes?" Hermione asked as she turned around.
"Can I have some of that crushed ice that comes out of the door?" Ginny' s smile was as bright as the yellow tablecloth that adorned the oak table.
"Sure," Hermione giggled before leaving for the kitchen.
"You really want to go with her?" Ron asked Harry, a strange look on his face while they sat in the back garden of the Granger's home. "I mean, she's right scary these days, mate."
"Don't remind me. Remember what happened on St. Patrick's Day?" Harry shook his head at the thought and Ron burst out in hearty laughter.
The previous month, Harry and Ron went out with Seamus Finnigan to celebrate the Irish holiday. They'd gone to four different pubs in Dublin, and upon arriving at Harry's home, the three young men were greeted with an irate, pregnant woman who immediately hexed them with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, which coupled with their drunken state, made them queasy and empty the contents of their stomachs into the fireplace.
"I have to go with her. No one else can manage her these days…not even your mum."
"You're kidding, right?" Ron nearly choked on the Butterbeer he'd been drinking.
"I wish I was. Her magic is out of control and her moods change on a Knut. Unless you want your sister demolishing Diagon Alley this afternoon, I need to go with her." Harry took a swig of his drink as he watched Ron's face as he tried to process the information.
"Well then, it's a good thing you're an Auror, I reckon. She has her own Ministry-approved bodyguard."
"It's not her I'm trying to protect, it's everyone else that needs protecting from Ginny."
"What did you just say Harry?"
Shit, Harry thought. I'm done for.
"Er, nothing?"
Smooth, Potter, real smooth. Maybe she'll hit you with a castration charm next.
Ginny gave him a look that told Harry that she was in fact, thinking about that exact same thing.
"Well, girls, Harry, shall we go?" interrupted Maggie Granger.
Harry had never been so glad to have that woman around. She had an easy, unassuming way about her that could relax the most high-strung person. And that's exactly what Ginny needed.
"Ron, you're sure you don't want to join us? I mean, poor Harry will be all alone with us ladies," she stated to her future son-in-law. "Besides, I know how much you like to ride in cabs."
It was true. Over the past year, Ron had grown very fond of the Muggle form of transportation and on his and Hermione's outings in Muggle London, he urged her to take the shiny black cabs. Ron felt like a prince riding around.
Ron's tell-tale flush answered for him and he stood up and placed an arm around Maggie.
"You sure know the way to a bloke's heart, Mags," he teased and placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Ginny screamed at Hermione while stamping her foot on the carpeted floor. "I am NOT wearing this! It looked good four months ago, but now…it's hideous, Hermione!" Tears were starting to fill her eyes as Hermione stepped into the dressing room.
Hermione clamped her mouth tightly shut against the laughter that threatened to bubble out. Ginny, in all her pregnant glory, looked, for lack of a better term, like a life-size wedding favour. The lavender dress, which was supposed to have a generous empire waistline, was tight around her belly and revealed entirely too much cleavage for a tasteful wedding.
"Well…" Hermione trailed off, trying to find the right words,
"I am not wearing this, Hermione!" Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest and began to pout.
"Ginny, the wedding's in five days—"
"Hey, what's the prob—Ginny! I think you outgrew that size a couple months ago!" Ron, unlike his fiancée, burst out in laughter at his sister's expense, earning him a stern look from Hermione.
Ginny's face began contorting into various shapes; she looked like she was going to cry, scream, yell, explode and pass out all at the same time. None of those things happened, but the lights of the shop flickered, the mirror cracked and there was the sound of smashing outside the fitting room. Peals of terror rang through the bridal shop and the sound of heavy footsteps came toward the dressing room. It was Harry.
"Ginny?" His face was filled with worry and he immediately ran to his wife, knowing instinctively that she had caused the ruckus out in the shop. She'd done this before on several occasions due to stress, anxiety, fear and basically, any emotion that caused her to feel anything more than relaxed. In short, she was a loose cannon. "Gin, take a deep breath!"
Ignoring everyone else who was in the small fitting room, Ron, Hermione and Maggie, Harry quickly crossed the tiny room and took Ginny in his arms. She was sweating and shaking, a sure sign that she was on the verge of an enormous magical break. He helped her to sit on the bench and knelt on the floor in front of her, gently stroking her belly the way the Healer told him, hoping to relax her. He whispered softly to his wife, soothing words that only they knew.
Hermione watched, mesmerized by the change that was coming over her friend and the obvious connection between the two of them. She'd long admired how obvious their affection was for one another. She smiled to herself, hoping that she and Ron would have a bit of that as the years went on. Ron, who now was behind her, put his arm on her shoulder and began guiding her out of the room.
"Come on, babe. Let's leave them alone," he whispered, his eyes never leaving his sister and Harry. "He's got her under control."
With a final glance back at them, Hermione took his hand and left the fitting room.
"Ha—Harry, I'm so—sorry," she got out between sobs as he held her. "Ron—he just insulted me and then it ju—just…"
"Ron insulted you?" Every serene thought he'd just had went out the window at Ginny's words. Ron knew how sensitive she was these days and he just had to go and open his big mouth. "What did he say?" His tone was more angry than calming.
"It…it doesn't matter…don't go off half-cocked, Harry---"
"No. He needs to be reminded exactly how to keep his fucking mouth shut!" Harry turned around in a huff and left the fitting room, making the drapes flutter in his wake.
Outside the room, he immediately alighted on Ron, standing in the corner and laughing as he spoke with Hermione and her mother.
He's laughing!
"What the hell did you say to her?" Harry gave Ron a shove. "You just had to go and get her all upset, didn't you? If you so much as cough in her direction before this wedding happens, I will personally guarantee that she," he paused, pointing to Maggie, "never becomes a grandmother!"
"Harry, really, it was nothing," Ron answered, wearing a bit too much of a grin in Harry's mind. "She looked like she was a stuffed—"
Ron never finished his phrase due to Harry's fist meeting his jaw. Ron fell onto the floor and Hermione pushed Harry against the wall while Maggie went over to see to Ron.
"Stop it! He didn't mean it, okay? Now go get Ginny." Hermione turned around and knelt beside Ron, waving her wand, obviously healing whatever damage he'd caused to Ron.
Ron looked up and gave him a scathing look and set his jaw, a sure sign that Ron was close to exploding himself. He said something to Hermione in a whisper and Maggie got up off the floor and moved towards Harry.
"He'll be fine. You didn't break anything," she told him. "Harry, look at me." She took Harry by the chin and turned his face toward hers.
Harry set his jaw and rolled his eyes. "What?"
"He was out of order back there," she said, nodding toward the fitting room, "but that wasn't really necessary. Let's go back and talk to Ginny and Helena and figure out what to do with the dress."
"Helena? Who's Helena? What's wrong with the dress? She had a fitting four months ago. It fit fine then." Harry began to panic. Why hadn't he seen what was wrong with Ginny? Fuck, he was a terrible husband…
"Harry! Harry!" Maggie snapped her fingers in front of his face and finally got his attention. "Come with me…" She pulled on his arm and they made their way back to the dressing room and found Ginny, still sitting on the bench, stroking her belly and singing to herself. "Ginny?"
She looked up and gave them a sad, forlorn look. "I'm sorry…it's…it's…" her lower lip began to quiver.
"Ginny, stop it," Maggie said quietly. "Harry, go get Helena…Madam Malkin…."
Harry nodded and left, returning quickly with the older witch.
"What seems to be the trouble, Mrs. Granger? Besides Mr. Potter's little outburst?" Madam Malkin looked over the top of her glasses at Harry in a very disapproving way, reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.
Harry walked back into the corner and kept his mouth shut, not wanting to make Ginny, or the other two women, upset.
"The dress…it's too tight," Ginny whimpered. "I feel like a sausage in it." Ginny could feel magic begin to bubble up inside her again.
"Well, we can't have that, now can we, Mrs. Potter. Stand up and let me see. And we'll just deactivate the mirror, shall we?" The woman took out her wand and disengaged the mirror so that it was just a part of the wall.
"I'd really like that when I'm shopping for swimsuits, Helena," Maggie said. "It would make things a lot easier on the self-esteem." The three women shared a laugh together as both Maggie and Madam Malkin helped Ginny to her feet.
Madam Malkin tutted and looked Ginny up and down. "Now, who fitted you last time you were here, Ginny?"
"Parvati."
"She didn't know you were having twins, did she?" Ginny shook her head. "She's a good seamstress, but a bit of a daft bird if you ask me. One should always ask a Prewett woman how many babies she's carrying. I learned that with your grandmother Prewett as well as your mother." She patted Ginny on the hand.
Five days later, Ginny stood in front of a mirror, wearing a lilac dress with an empire waist. Madam Malkin had done wonders with the dress, having made more gores to the skirt and leaving them loose around the sides rather than sewing them together. The seamstress had also added chiffon to the waistline, right underneath the bodice.
"Hermione…" Ginny said with an ominous tone in her voice.
"Yes?" Hermione bit her lip, afraid of what Ginny would do next.
The last five days had been horrible. Whenever Ginny wasn't fretting about the dress, she was sending things flying about her house, making Harry nervous and jittery. Molly had moved into Grimmauld Place, despite her daughter's protestations, which only served to cause the tantrums to increase in frequency. After only three days of having her mother in the same house, Ginny kicked her mother out and threatened to move to Timbuktu if she were ever to grace her doorstep before the babies were born.
Needless to say, things had been a bit tense.
Ginny took a deep breath and turned to Hermione, presenting the bride with a small smile.
"You know, what?"
"What?" Hermione was shaking. "Please don't get angry. I've just got my hair the way I like it…"
"I still look like a wedding favour."
Hermione let out a giggle. It was true. The chiffon certainly sealed the deal. "And you have your own Jordan almonds wrapped up in there, too."
"More like a Christmas cracker…I'm gonna pop any day now."
