Disclaimer: This fic is based loosely on the film of the same name; I've never actually seen it, I'm just borrowing the general idea. And, of course, these characters and such are not my own, but belong entirely to the lovely J.K. Rowling.
Rating: M, for language and potential sex scenes later.
Genre: Romance, Harry/Ginny, Harry/Draco, other minor pairings.
Spoilers: This fic is set about four years after Deathly Hallows (excluding the epilogue, obviously). So pretty much spoilers for all seven books!
A/N: I began this fic long ago, and I am now returning to update and finally finish it. I will add a note at the beginning of each chapter to mark when I have updated it, as follows:
Updated: January 2015
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July 21
"Fuck, Harry, we're set to Floo over there in 10 minutes! Wake up already!"
Harry groaned and rolled over; hearing Ginny's shrill yell was hardly the best way to start a day.
"Bloody hell, Har, you're the worst morning person ever! Get up, and at least make an attempt to dress smartly, will you?" Ginny whined, shoving Harry's shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, rolling out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. After relieving himself, he dared a glance in the mirror. Groaning again at his appearance, he ran a hand over his rough jaw. "Dress smartly?" he scoffed. "Haven't even got the time to shave." Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair in an attempt to flatten it, which, of course, was futile. Leaving the bathroom, he slipped into the first pair of denims he saw and pulled on a simple white t-shirt. "Good enough," he mumbled and wandered out into the living room.
"Really, Harry, you should at least attempt to be presentable," Ginny sighed, shoving a hot mug of coffee into his hands and smoothing his t-shirt.
"Thanks, Gin. What would I do without you?" Harry answered, offering her a small smile.
She returned the smile, and gently pushed him towards the fireplace. "Time to go, dear. We don't want to be late."
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Ginny stepped gracefully out of the fireplace, followed close behind by Harry, who tripped and spilled some coffee down his front. "Fuck," he said under his breath. "That's just what I bloody needed."
"Oh honestly, Harry, you're hopeless," Ginny said, throwing him a side-glance and casting a quick cleaning spell.
Harry threw her another small smile, and she shook her head in amusement, taking his hand and pulling him along down the hallway. They stopped in front of a foggy glass door with a nameplate reading "D.M., Wedding Planner Extraordinaire".
"Extraordinaire?" Harry questioned. "Bit full of himself, this bloke is."
"Be polite, Harry, he's the best in all of Britain," Ginny reprimanded, knocking twice on the door.
"Please, do come in," came a voice from inside.
At that, Ginny opened the door and gave Harry's hand another small tug. With a soft sigh, he followed her and closed the door behind him, turning around to set eyes upon their wedding planner.
"Holy fuck," Harry muttered, freezing where he stood with his mouth gaping.
"Well, hello to you too, Potter," said the wedding planner in the perfect drawl that Harry recognized oh so well.
Unable to make his jaw work properly, Harry simply stared at the man seated in front of him. That silvery blond hair, no longer slicked back but falling gracefully into his smoky grey eyes, with that impeccable, form-fitting grey suit to complement them. That smirk he had become so accustomed to hadn't lessened in the slightest; in fact, it seemed to be even more pronounced as Harry continued to gawk at the man before him. 'What a bleeding ponce,' he thought to himself. 'Draco Malfoy, Wedding Planner Extraordinaire? What a tosser.'
Ginny elbowed him in the ribs, effectively bringing him out of his reverie. "Go on, Harry, say hello. It's the polite thing to do."
"Yes, Potter, listen to your darling wife," Malfoy teased, that mocking smirk growing still more.
"'Lo, Malfoy," Harry replied stiffly. He then turned and glared at Ginny, whispering under his breath, "You couldn't have bothered to tell me that he was our wedding planner?"
"For heaven's sake, Harry!" Ginny whispered back reproachfully. "I told you, he's the best in all of Britain, and I deserve the best!"
Harry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Right. Of course you do, dear," he replied, turning warily back to face Malfoy.
"Oh Draco, I do apologize for my husband's behavior! I'm afraid this is coming as a bit of a surprise for him," Ginny trilled, with a fake smile plastered on her face.
"Er, not yet, Gin," pointed out Harry. At her questioning glare, he quickly said, "You know... We aren't married yet, I'm not your husband."
"A technicality, Harry!" she said, squeezing his forearm and turning the false smile in his direction.
"As thrilling as your domestic banter might be, I'd really like to get on with things, if you don't mind?" Malfoy interrupted. "I am a rather busy man, you know," he continued, smirking again.
"So sorry, Draco!" Ginny squealed, pulling Harry onto the plush leather couch across from Malfoy's desk.
Harry slumped, resting his head against the back cushion.
"Sit up, dear, pay attention!" reprimanded Ginny.
Harry groaned and shot her a withering look. "This was not my idea," he reminded her.
Ginny gave a theatrical sigh and turned to look at Malfoy. "Again, I apologize, Draco. I don't know what's gotten into him!"
Harry rolled his eyes slightly, while Malfoy shot him another small smirk before replying, "I don't know what you mean, Weasley. As far as I remember, he's always been this impossible."
Ginny blanched at the use of her last name, while Harry threw a glare at him. "Get on with it, eh, Malfoy?"
"Of course, Potter, just for you," he replied with a falsely sweet smile. "Right, I received all the information you sent me, Ginevra. It seems you have nearly everything in line already. As a result, I fail to comprehend the purpose of this appointment. Care to enlighten me?"
"So sorry!" Ginny squeaked again. "Well, I had to arrange for us to meet again, and for Harry to be present as well, because I received word from the Ministry that Neville and I are being sent out on a... well, a mission with the Unspeakables, and we'll be gone for the next month."
Harry blinked and turned to gape at her; this was certainly the first he had heard of the news!
"Forgive me, dear," she said in reply to his surprised look. "I thought now would be as good a time as any to let you know."
"Pardon me," Malfoy interrupted, "but I was under the impression that your wedding is to be held on the 28th of August?"
"Yes," Ginny replied sheepishly. "I'll be gone until August 21st, and I was hoping that you could manage the preparations in the meantime, with Harry supervising?" she inquired, throwing a pleading glance at the irate man beside her.
"Bloody hell, Gin," he grumbled. "You expect me to spend the next month planning OUR wedding with MALFOY?!" Harry again ran a hand through his tousled hair, and sullenly added, "You know, you'll also be missing my birthday."
"Oh come off it, Harry, is it really that big of a deal?" Ginny rolled her eyes in dismissal. "Draco has a detailed list of all the wedding specifics, and you can call me on my mobile any time you need to. Trust me, dear, you can survive a few weeks with him."
Harry gave her a reproachful look and sighed. "Fine, Gin, but you owe me. Tremendously."
Ginny's mood immediately changed from impatient to elated, as she giggled and threw herself into Harry's arms. "I love you!" she proclaimed.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "Yeah, I know," he replied softly.
As if on cue, Ginny's purse began ringing, and she made a mad dash for it, extracting her mobile. "Hello?... Oh hi, Neville!... What?! I'm not packed yet, we weren't supposed to leave until tonight!" She wandered off to a corner of the room while she spoke with him.
Malfoy cleared his throat, and Harry looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he questioned, if not a little viciously.
The blond held up his hands in innocence and replied, "Hey now, don't blame me, Potter. You have my word that this was NOT my idea."
"Whatever," Harry mumbled, turning back to Ginny as she came to collect her purse.
"I'm so sorry, Har, Neville just rang and told me that they changed our International Portkey, and now it's set for an hour from now, and I still have to pack, and I haven't been able to tell you goodbye, and oh, I'm so sorry!" she rambled.
Harry rested his hand on top of hers and gave her a small smile. "Relax, Gin," he told her. "Go home and pack your things. If you forget anything, I'll send Hedwig on with it later. And I'll give you a call later tonight, alright?"
"Oh bless you, Harry," she squeaked, giving him a sound kiss. "I love you," she said again. Turning to wave to Malfoy, she called, "Play nice, you two!" and swept out the door.
Harry sighed and turned back to Malfoy. "All right, then," he said sullenly, "what've I got to do?"
The wedding planner rustled through some papers on his desk and sighed as well. "Potter, your fiancé is a real piece of work," he said, ignoring the question. "Going a bit over the top, isn't she?"
"She wants it to be perfect," shrugged Harry.
"Then, it will be," Malfoy plainly stated. He finished rifling through his papers and looked up at Harry. "Forgive my bluntness, but you are unemployed, correct?"
"I am," Harry muttered, "what's it to you?"
"Well Potter, because your weasel is such a perfectionist, I suspect we'll be working round the clock. I suggest you learn to enjoy my presence," Malfoy teased, smirking again.
Harry groaned.
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