Title: My Imagination

Summary: She imagined things would be very different to the reality. Wedding bliss won't be found here.

Pairings: Ginny/harry

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I can dream!

The girl in the mirror looked back at me, I was having a hard time convincing myself that it was actually me standing there and not someone else. Her eyes looked blank and lifeless certainly not what they should have looked like today.

I have imagined this day since the first time I met Harry, I imagined the dress I would wear, the flowers I would carry, the laughter from the bridesmaids as we sat waiting. I dreamt of the smile of my mother, the last smile she would give me as a unmarried woman, and I dreamt of how my arm would feel placed against my farther as we slowly made our way up the aisle. I imagined the look on Harrys face when he saw me in my white gown and the soft gasps of our guests as we said our vows at the altar, smiling as though we were the only two in the world.

Of course when I imagined all this it was with a childlike innocence, not really understanding what would truly happen when the time finally for the event of a life time … or according to the papers.

For example when I first imagined my guest list it consisted of close family and friends, nothing to big, just special enough, however the last time I checked I guest list had hit a spectacular 217… of people she didn't know, that wasn't including the people she did know.

And for instance, I imagined a simple dress, which showed off my small curves and highlighted my perk breasts. I did not intend to be forced into a meringue. I looked down at the ivory material and supposed that it suited my figure somewhat, giving me a tiny waist, the only good thing about it. But it was too big, too loud, so not … me. I hadn't picked the dress of course, it had been sent by some famous witch in France as a gift to me and my soon to be husband for saving the wizarding world. Harry said it was common courtesy to use the 'gift', if it had been my choice the monstrosity would have been burnt along with the witches' invitation.

I thought that when it came to my wedding I might have had a bit more choice in what went on but it seems if you were marring the hero of the world then that wasn't so. I didn't get a say in the flower choices, I didn't get a say in the cake so god knows what that's going to look like. I very nearly didn't get a say in who my bridesmaids but put a quick stop to that with an overdue tantrum and I think Harry and my mother was just glad that was the only thing I was really making a fuss about.

You see when I was a little girl, even before meeting Harry maybe I would fantasize about this day and it seems a harsh reality that all my hopes and dreams have not come true. I was happy of course I was, marrying Harry was the cherry on top of the cake but I was still only 19 and no matter how much I tried to dwell on it, this still felt as though duty and nothing else. I knew I loved Harry and I knew he felt the same but it still felt too expected. Why we couldn't wait a few more years was beyond me.

What if I couldn't do it? They were all expecting a Hermione and Ron wedding except she was going to faint at the 'I do' part or start screaming please when the bit of does any object happens. I just knew deep down that this wedding was going to go wrong and a sick part of me almost hoped it did.

I was drawn from my thoughts by a sudden knocking at my bedroom door.

"Ginny dear, it's nearly time," My mother spoke excitedly from outside the room. I felt bad for thinking the way I just was when I heard how excited she was, and it hurt me that I couldn't feel the same way.

"I'll be out in a minuet mum," I tried to sound as happy as she did but it came out much softer, with an over tone of worry.

"Take your time dear, it's not like they can start without you," she laughed and I heard her footsteps walking away from my room. No they couldn't start with me, so why did that make me want to run away to the furthest part of the world I could?

I loved Harry I did, but as I looked back to the girl in the mirror, watched as she tried to smile I felt sad for her; she was beautiful but not yet ready for the world outside and as a second knock at the door I braced myself for my fate.

I plastered a smile on my face and walked out of the room.

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