Obliviate -the lost week (Harmione)

Obliviate

"The day after the war, if there are days after the war, I will take you in my arms and make love  to you; if I have arms after the war, if there is love after the war."

John Lennon

Ginny was striking beautiful, her hair contrasting with the white dress that clang to her figure. Harry just stood there, mesmerized, until a beaming Arthur thrust her hand into his. The groom had no ears to listen to the minister's words. No eyes, but for her. The bride's cheeks were blushing intensely and the girl rarely dared to raise her gaze to his. From the corner of his eyes, he could perceive Molly's blurred shape, sobbing loudly on George's shoulder. Ron stood behind him, but he knew he was beaming too. Everything was so perfect that everyone's patronus must be attending too.

Yet, at some point, Harry raised his gaze to the bridemaid: Hermione; and worry diminished his joy. The bright witch had come from Australia just a few days ago, and still looked afar. Sweet, nostalgic. Her dress was much more discreet than the bride's, but the beige color combined with her skin, and she was no less beautiful than Ginny. Even so, something had made her deeply unhappy, and her friend really wanted to know what, and kill whoever was responsible for it; which wasn't possible, because now not even the person involved knew anything about it.

Hermione herself had come sooner to his room to congratulate him. Remembering the brief interview, despite the joyful moment, his eyes narrowed slightly with worry.

"Hermione!" Harry cried.

His friend was standing near his door, handling her little sister to Molly. Always trying to integrate her growing family, the Weasley matriarch had invited the infant to be one of the flower girls. Hermione had protested, shielded by the baby's age; but the older witch hadn't wanted to listen. Another child was to guide her.

Her smile was hesitant when she faced him, but he hugged her anyway. Some months apart couldn't have distanced them much, could they?

"I'm glad you could come" the groom said. "We were just wondering what was taking you so long."

He didn't have to hear about her experiences in Australia. Someone else had told him already, and what they hadn't told him, he could imagine. What the wizard hadn't foreseen, was that her features, matured during the war, would now look even more so. Holding his best female friend by her shoulders, he stared at her face, and something strangled his heart.

"Come, sit"

The groom's room, just minutes ago overflowed with people, as he finished dressing, was now empty, everyone had much more urgent tasks to attend to before the ceremony. The boy's traditional dress robes -all black and white, with a white rose in his buttonhole- made him look even more boyish, yet mature at the same time.

"I just came to congratulate you" his friend said; he couldn't read her expression, but the girl did sound affectionate when she added: "You look positively handsome. The ceremony will be beautiful."

"Well, I'm actually more worried about the wedding night." The wizard was scrubbing the back of his neck and blushing. "I'm not sure of why I tell you this, except that I can't tell boys and especially not Ron and I'm kind of drowning..."

"You mean you and Ginny haven't...?"

He blushed a little more –who would know it was possible- while shaking his head.

"Ginny was in Hogwarts most of the year, I could see her here during the breaks but here we have over ten chaperons, especially in holidays; Molly would know if Ginny went to my place, and we weren't sure of how would she react; and a third place... well, I used to be a celebrity, but now it's simply ridiculous, an army of Skeeters follow me almost everywhere. In fact, I think I see someone trying to..."