The Silver Envelope

Who Pays the Price

"You still haven't decided on a dress?" Hermione said, incredulously. "The wedding's only a few weeks away!"
Ginny smiled weakly and shrugged, biting into a peppermint-frosted biscuit.
She and Harry were sprawled comfortably on the sofa of Hermione's sitting room, eating the remaining Christmas treats they had brought over to share with her. Crookshanks was in her bedroom, preferring to nap in peace today.
"I've been so busy with practice lately," she said, seeming far too unconcerned, Hermione thought.
"I'lI find something soon enough.
"Have you even looked?" Hermione asked.
Ginny looked sheepish
"Well, not really. Although Luna did offer to make me a dress," she admitted with a grimace. "But since I don't really fancy walking down the aisle with dirigible plums holding up the train of my dress, I said I already had one.
Harry snickered next to her.
"Don't worry, Gin," he said, grinning widely. "If you show up at the altar in your muddy Quidditch robes, I'll still marry you. Your mum might kill you though."
Ginny rolled her eyes, smiling.
"Fleur offered to take me shopping, but I said I was busy," she said, a grimace of disgust forming
on her tace.
"That was probably wise," Hermione said. "Why don't you go with your mum?"
"Absolutely not! She's in a right panic,'
" Ginny said. "She's so much more uptight about my
wedding than any of my brothers. I don't fancy dealing with her mood swings at a bridal shop.'
"It's to be expected, I suppose. You are her only daughter," Hermione pointed out.
"Still. It's suffocating," Ginny grouched.
She leaned back on Harry's shoulder, sighing loudly. Harry kissed the top of her head and smoothed her red hair back from her face.
Hermione looked away from them and out her window instead, trying not to think about the aching hole in her chest that pounded every time she saw a pair of lovebirds having a moment to
themselves
If she were honest with herself, that lonely hole had been there for years now. Sure, Ron had loved her, in his way, but soon after they got together, Hermione had started to feel lonely even when she was with him. She had never quite been able to put it to words, exactly, but it was like something was missing. Every once in a while, her intuition had sparked as though it had struck flint, but the flare of awareness always slipped away before it could fully catch fire. Like when Ron had almost never laughed her jokes, but he'd always laughed himself hoarse whenever she'd made an
embarrassing mistake. Or last Christmas, when she'd got him a beautiful leather wallet that was enchanted never to get lost, and he had given her a joke quill from his work, one that wrote rude words whenever she used it. Or the time she had planned the perfect holiday weekend abroad to celebrate their anniversary, only to cancel it all at the last minute because Ron's favorite Quidditch team had taken days to win their match, and Ron had refused to leave before the game was finished.
And to think, at the end, he had been certain she was cheating on him. Sometimes, when Hermione was in a particularly vindictive mood, she wished she had cheated on him. At least then she
wouldn't have felt so unimportant and misunderstood in her own relationship
Times like these, when she saw Harry kissing Ginny's forehead and promising to marry her in muddy Quidditch robes, they made her heart ache. She wanted someone who would treat her that way. Someone who would remember how she liked her tea, or who noticed when she was cold and brought her a blanket.
With a jolt of panic, Hermione recalled that someone had done just that, only last night. Quickly, she banished that thought. Not him. Someone else.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Ginny asked suddenly.

Hermione whipped her head around, realizing she had been gazing out the window for too long
"Sorry. I've been...preoccupied these days," she apologized.
Ginny's eyes caught Harry's, and Hermione somehow knew what was about to come.
"Hermione..
" Harry started.
"We're a bit...worried about you," Ginny said, her eyes again darting to Harry and back.
"Why?" Hermione said, bristling a bit.
"It's just that, so much has happened recently," Ginny said, her tone measured. "We wouldn't be surprised if you felt a bit overwhelmed.'
Hermione resisted the defensiveness that rose up in her ribcage. They cared about her. They were trying to help.
"I am a bit overwhelmed," she admitted.
Harry took hold of the admission.
"We can see that," he said, adjusting to sit on the edge of the sofa. "And we want to help however
we can
"You are helping, Harry," she reminded him, but he shook his head.
"I don't mean the ruddy mail, Hermione," Harry said. "I mean with...y'know, with Ron." Hermione's whole body tightened at the mention of Ron's name. She kept still, waiting for him to hurry up and say what he wanted.
"He's really sorry, Hermione," Harry pled. "Like, really really sorry. He's been trying to tell you."
Hermione felt her stomach sink like a rock thrown into a deep pool of water.
So. When he'd said they were going to discuss the issue of her and Ron both attending their wedding, apparently this is what he'd had in mind. He wanted her to make up with him.
Ginny and Harry both looked nervous.
"Hermione, look," Ginny said flatly. "My brother's a git and he doesn't deserve you. But maybe you could just speak with him? Smooth things over a bit? He's Harry's best mate and-unfortunately--my brother. It doesn't make sense to uninvite him."
"He's gutted, Hermione," Harry continued. "We're not saying you should get back together or anything. But couldn't you just hear him out, let him apologize?"
They both seemed to hold their breath as they took in Hermione's stony expression, waiting for her
tO answer.
Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't feel ready to talk to Ron again, not after what he'd said at the ball. And yet, if she didn't, she might be the one who would get uninvited to the wedding. Just as she had been for Christmas.
A wave of molten rage pulsed through her at the thought. This whole situation was ridiculous.
Somehow, even though Ron had treated her horrendously, she was the one who seemed to be paying the price, not him. Amongst their friends and family, at work, and even in the press-the cost of the war between them was hers to bear alone. And now they all expected her to make nice and try to get along with him?
She wanted to tell them both to stuff Ron's apology right up his arse. But what good would it do?
In the end, that would only serve to alienate her.
She had no choice.
"Fine," she said, her tone clipped. "I'lI talk with him."
Relief washed over the faces of her guests.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said. "You'll see. He told me"
Harry's words were cut off by a loud knock at Hermione's door. All three of them turned to look at
the door curiously.