Written for hpshipweeks on tumblr, week number one.


When Ginny Weasley was nine years old, she married her favourite celebrity.

It was in the garden of her home, a quiet but joyous affair, and it was her favourite teddy bear that she had renamed "Harry Potter" for the special occasion.

So-called "Harry Potter" was looking much better than he normally did. The patches on his furry arms had been painstakingly cleaned by Ginny, and he was dressed in a bit of spare black material that had been sewn into a dress robe looking costume by Mrs Weasley.

The present company had been the rest of Ginny's toys, which were primarily boys because her older brothers had never wanted the pretty sort of dolls that Ginny always glanced longingly at in shop windows. Ginny imagined that, if they could, the audience would have been eagerly glancing at the area in which Ginny would walk through.

The spot in the garden that she had chosen was warm and bright that summer, as it was constantly being hit by the strong rays of sunshine. The surrounding trees were draped with clean white bed sheets that fluttered in the wind, creating the effect of an outdoor marquee.

At the front of the congregation stood Harry the teddy bear, who was patiently waiting for his bride. The wind whistled through the air, and Ginny almost thought that she heard a whisper, a murmur between the sheets, of the red headed girl who was marrying the Boy who Lived.

Ginny took a deep breath, and began to walk. Slowly but steadily, she moved through the bed sheets and down the aisle of leaves that neatly divided her side of the family and his. The twigs that lay on the ground crunched beneath the soles of her best shoes, and she lifted the hem of her old white dress so that no debris would be caught in it.

When she reached the end of the aisle, she turned to face Harry and the minister - or stuffed rabbit toy - who was to marry them.

The minister made a lovely speech, in Ginny's opinion, the sound of which carried from her voice all across the audience.

"You may now kiss the bride," spoke Ginny in place of the minister, and she placed a chaste peck on the nose of her teddy. A small plastic ring was slid onto her finger, and she clapped in happiness and glee.

Her solitary applause rang in her ears as she began to twirl around, humming nonsensical music to herself as she danced with her new husband.

Ginny Weasley's wedding came to a close as the sun set and the stars came out. She was called for dinner by her mother, and she gathered her friends and her husband, and the bed sheets and her removed shoes, and ran back to her house where her real family waited.

She went back into her reality, where Harry Potter was a distant boy, just the best friend of her brother, and the ring on her finger meant nothing to anyone but her.

She hoped that someday, she could have both her old family and a new one.

She hoped that one day, Harry Potter, the real Harry Potter, would fall in love with her.

As long as the stars kept shining, Ginny's dream would too.


When Ginny Weasley was twenty three years old, she married the love of her life.

The wedding was held in the garden of her childhood home, in a white outdoor marquee, and it was a cheerful and noisy affair.

The groom was the real Harry Potter, and he loved his bride more than anything. He was dressed in brand new dress robes, and although his hair didn't lie flat, and he still wore a battered pair of glasses, Ginny loved him all the same. Harry stood at the front of the marquee, impatiently tapping his foot and trying not to run his hand nervously through his hair, but he was grinning all along, and glancing excitedly at the door from which Ginny was to enter.

There was an abundance of attendees, mostly Weasleys and no Potters, but that didn't matter. They were all family, and they all had a part to play. Mrs Weasley made the cake, Mr Weasley walked Ginny down the aisle, Hermione was the maid of honour whilst Ron was the best man, Teddy was the ring bearer, Victoire was the flower girl – the list was endless.

Ginny stood just outside the marquee, waiting for her time to walk down the aisle. The wind was blowing slightly in the summer breeze, and tendrils of her hair flew about her face delicately, as she tried not to panic or scream in anticipation. She felt relieved that the press hadn't been able to get in – after all, this was the event of the year: the war heroine was marrying the man who had defeated the Darkest wizard of all time.

Her father met her outside, and after exchanging a few words and an emotional hug, she linked arms with him and moved into the marquee.

Inside, she was met by Hermione, the bridesmaids, and Victoire. Hermione handed her the bouquet of beautiful lilies, and moved to lift the trail of her long white wedding dress.

The seated crowd fell silent as the procession music started, and Ginny walked, slowly but surely, through the doors, and all heads turned to see the beautiful bride.

When she caught sight of her groom, a wide smile spread across Ginny's face – one that was mirrored exactly by Harry. At this, Mrs Weasley promptly dissolved into tears and Ginny had to fight against a euphoric giggle.

Quicker than she had realised, they had arrived at the end of the aisle, and her hands were placed by her father into Harry's. Her beautiful white dress made a swishing sound as she turned slightly to face him and she was met by a radiant smile as he lifted the translucent veil that separated them.

Kingsley, the minister for the wedding, began to make a speech, and it was a rather poignant one, met by appreciative laughs and cries from the congregation.

"You may now kiss the bride." The cliché line was spoken to Harry, and Ginny was – almost quite literally – swept off her feet by the first kiss from her new husband, a real one, and it sparked the sort of happiness that only the strongest of loves could. A golden, glimmering ring was slid onto her finger, and it wasn't too simple or too flashy – it was just right.

The wolf whistles from her brothers and the loud screeching of chairs rang in Ginny's ears as she and Harry were met by their friends and family, all wanting to congratulate the happy couple at the same time.

The dancing began, and it was real music, music that flowed over the couple and submerged them in a sense of complete ecstasy.

Ginny was spun, twirled and laughed with, by everyone from her new husband to her little niece, and her wedding only came to an end hours later, when the stars had appeared and were smiling in the sky, for this was the day that Ginny Weasley's dream became her reality.

Her dream was real: Harry Potter was her husband, her love, and the ring on her finger was a bright beacon of proof, evidence that he loved her and she loved him, and it was placed where the whole world could see it.

And although her family wasn't perfect, (for you could see the missing places) it was okay, it would be okay, because Ginny Weasley – or Potter, now – knew that somewhere in those sparkling stars were Fred, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Harry's parents and all the other lost friends, and that they too were celebrating for them.

Ginny Weasley was Ginny Potter; they were and are the same, and as long as the stars kept shining, there was nothing on Earth that could stop her love.