His Past, Her Future {Book One}

Chapter 29. The Trouble With Weddings

It was like she had just woken up. Like she had just woken up like any other day before. No one ran to welcome her back with tight hugs or tears of joy. Ron said "Morning," at least that's what she thought he said through his mouth of bacon and toast, and Harry didn't even say anything.

She felt detached from herself as she was pushed and pulled around the small kitchen, her hair twisted into something acceptable (although that really wasn't necessary anymore). In fact the only attention that she pulled was from her newly contained curls, however unlike the praise she had first received this was more along the lines of "Why didn't you do this yesterday?" accompanied by the accusing glare of Molly Weasley who thought the hair an act of treason against the importance of her eldest son's wedding.

Finally released from the clutches of the crimson nailed hairdresser and granted 'ready' but for the absence of her bouquet she was grateful for the escape Harry provided when he asked if she wanted to help them carry the breakfast back to the Burrow. She knew as a bridesmaid she should have stayed to attend to Tonks but she reasoned that her absence wouldn't be noted from the demanding attention of Mrs Weasley and Tonks' mother Andromeda that currently commanded the entourage that swamped the Black house.

Harry handed her a basket of croissants and a jug of juice to hold as they apparrated from the front steps of Grimmauld Place into the backyard of the Weasley home.

The wedding was to take place at the Burrow, making use of the set up that remained from Bill and Fleur's wedding the previous day. The men had stayed at the Burrow that night and the women not, as was the tradition of separation for the day before the wedding.

Apparently Mr Weasley or his sons had not picked up any of the cooking skills Mrs Weasley exuded and hence the youngest had been sent to scavenger the breakfast that they reasoned the women were unlikely to eat anyway in their last minute paranoia to fit into their dresses.

They boys softened their voices as they approached the backdoor.

"What are we being quiet for?" Hermione whispered as she placed her load onto the bench that stood in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen.

"Remus is still asleep. Passed out on the couch," Ron sniggered pointing towards the door to the living room. "Most of everyone else is awake upstairs but we all figured we would let him sleep it off as much as he could, considering how much he had to drink last night."

"Oh," she said her eyes glued to the closed door.

"Well, ah me and Ron have to go get dressed. Do you think you could set up breakfast for us?"

"Um, sure, yeah," she replied not at all listening to what Harry was saying.

"Unless you want to come help me - OW watch it Harry!"

"Shhh don't wake Remus," Harry replied as Ron rubbed his arm where Harry had elbowed him.

It wasn't until she heard the bang of a door closing above her that she realized they had gone.

Without hesitation she strolled quickly to the living room door, turning the knob before her mind could convince her otherwise.

And there he was.

Sprawled out adorably on the couch like a ragdoll that had been abandoned by a child. Standing in the doorway she could see his chest move steadily up and down. His face was almost obscured, his cheek pressed into the couch cushion and his hair falling onto the exposed half.

She had wondered, even perhaps hoped, that seeing this older version, the Professor that she had known, would separate the two in her mind and would make this day easier, but she had known before she had seen him this a false hope because even in her mind the Remus she had grown to love had always been the same Professor. They were one, inseparable person, she adored the Remus in the past not only because of her time spent with him there but for the caring and admirable person she had knew he would become.