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“You do not owe me anything,” Hermione said with feeling.
“Well, I certainly feel like I oweussomething. So… come with me.” He stepped off the church wall, pulling her forward.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Hermione was towed forward, around the throng that had gathered to give Phoebe and Officer Stenham well wishes, then up through the church door.
“Why are we in here?” Hermione asked. Antony didn’t answer her at first, he simply pulled her all the way down the aisle, until they were standing by the altar.
“Now, where were we standing?” he asked with a nonchalant tone.
“You’re up to something, and I cannot tell what it is,” she said. “Where were we standing when?”
“When we were last here?” he said with a mischievous smirk. “I think I was here,” he said, jumping up a step to be in front of the altar, “and you were here.” He drew her up to stand beside him.
“You are confusing me all the more now,” she said slowly, watching as his smile grew wider.
“I was thinking that the last time we did this, I didn’t mean the words as I should have meant them. For one thing, I was too much in shock really to take it in, then after that I spent a few days thinking you had deceived me.”
“So… not the greatest start to a marriage?” Hermione teased.
“You could say that,” Antony agreed with a nod. “That being said, let’s do it again.”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t have chance to ask any more as Antony took hold of her hand.
“Now, let’s see if I can remember how this goes,” he said, screwing up his face in thought. “I, Antony Stenham, take thee, Hermione Rogers, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to…” he paused, scrunching up his nose a little more.
“Have you actually forgotten the vows?” Hermione said with a laugh.
“Well, I’ve only had to say them once before, haven’t I?” he said, laughing too. “Can you remember the next bit?”
“Arguably it is the most important. To love and to cherish,” she said, stepping an inch toward him.
“Ah, yes,” he said, taking both of her hands in his and drawing her nearer. “To love and to cherish,” he deepened his voice with the words. “Until death us do part. And?”
“And what?” she said, tilting her head up toward him.
“This is the part where you say your vows back to me.”
“Oh, ordering me around already, are you?” she said in defiance, pulling another snicker from him that he was trying to stifle.
“I am trying to be serious here,” he said, though his smile was still present.
“Seriousness doesn’t suit you.”
“Then let’s make this quick. And your vows?”
“Oh, very well. I suppose I could follow the order this one time,” she teased him as she took a final step toward him. Now, her chest was pressed against his as she rested on him. It made him tilt his head down toward her, clearly preparing for a kiss. “I, Hermione Rogers, take thee, Antony Stenham, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish and…” she paused, clamping her lips together.
“Ah, you are going to take out the obey order, are you?” he teased.
“Well, we both know I’m not going to keep to that one anyway,” she laughed.
“Very true,” he nodded, continue.
“To love and to cherish,” she repeated the last vow. “Until death us do part.” She lifted up on her toes, trying to kiss him, though he resisted, staying back from her little. “Was there anything else?”
“I mean the vows, Hermione,” he whispered. “I know our courtship has hardly been smooth sailing.”
