A/N: For anyone who read my previous story, this is NOT the sequel, its just an unrelated one-shot that came to me in the middle of the night, begging to be written. Hope you like it!
He didn't think she could look any more beautiful than she did on that day. Her hair softly falling in spiral curls around her shoulders, her cheeks dusted with light pink shimmer, her lips a shade of rose-petal pink. That dress, hugging every curve he hadn't noticed before. She was the picture of perfection.
She glided across the dance floor, led by the giant quiddich champion. Her eyes seemed to dance and sparkle in the brilliant light. Her smile widened, and his heart sank with every step she took.
No, he didn't think she could look any more beautiful than that day at the Yule ball.
But he was wrong.
He didn't think she could look any more beautiful than she did on that day. Her eyes gleamed from across the room, and she gave a slight nod for Ron to come say hi. Her hair had gotten longer than he had remembered. It hung in soft waves covering her shoulders. Her face looked wiser, but not older, than he last remembered. He gave an awkward smile. She laughed, and it was like Christmas in his heart.
He couldn't believe his luck, running into her in Hogsmead only a couple of years after they had parted ways from Hogwarts. He had cursed himself everyday for letting her leave without knowing his true feelings. He took a deep breath, and gathered the nerves to walk towards her. It would be different this time.
No, he didn't think she could look any more beautiful than the day he got his second chance.
But he was wrong.
He didn't think she could look any more beautiful than she did on that day. Tears slid down from her glazed brown eyes. She gazed intensely into his smiling face. Her cheeks were rosy from surprise, and her lips were quivering from tears of joy. Her face seemed to glow in the moonlight.
He smiled nervously up at her, bent on one knee. Even though she already knew what was coming, he was terrified to vocalize the question. He got about half way through, when she exclaimed the word he had been hoping against all hopes she would say. He felt her arms wrap tightly around his neck, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight as he embraced her. She pulled back and smiled into his face once again, with the brilliance of one million suns and the love of one heart.
No, he didn't think she could look any more beautiful than the day she agreed to be his forever.
But he was wrong.
He was sure this time. She couldn't look any more beautiful than she did on that day. Her long brown curls lay beneath a veil of lace and diamond. Her eyes sparkled with the threat of tears. A soft smile played across her lips. She was adorned in a long simple white dress, made just for her. She took small but sure steps down the long aisle on the arm of her father, and his heart did a back-flip.
She finally arrived at his side, and he felt like suddenly his life was complete. He took her arm and turned to her for their vows. He promised her his world, and she promised him hers. His voice was shaky but he knew she didn't mind. Hers was strong and pronounced, like when she read aloud from her favorite books. Only he knew that it was a voice of true love. The moment their lips met, though it was certainly not the first kiss they'd ever shared, felt like something so new and wonderful that neither could describe their bliss. Her eyes smiled into his as the minister announced her as Mrs. Ron Weasley.
No, she definitely could not look any more beautiful than the day she did the day she became his wife.
But he was wrong.
Her hair, though before twisted and piled into an intricate piece of art, now lay disheveled and bushy in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her eyes, though before lined with black liner and smoky eye shadow, now were smudged and tired looking. Her face was clean, and the bridge of her nose was sprinkled with tiny freckles normally covered with make-up. She had previously been in a sleek black cocktail dress for the occasion of their tenth wedding anniversary. She now was clothed in a pair of silk boxer shorts and an oversized shirt that used to belong to Ron before she laid claim.
Hermione emerged from the bathroom, wiping a smidge of toothpaste from the corners of her mouth. She peeled back the soft down-comforter of their bed and slid underneath, warming her cold feet upon his warm feet. She drowsily closed her eyes, but opened them again when she could feel his gaze upon her. He smiled lovingly at her confused expression.
"What?"
"You're beautiful."