Ron Weasley.
The night before the wedding, 10 pm, Porch.
The Burrow.
The night before the wedding was chaos.
Ronald Weasel sat on the porch steps of The Burrow, trying to block out the noise coming from behind him. Ginny and his mother had gotten into another argument, this time about the bride shoes. Ginny was screaming at the top of her lungs, saying this was her wedding, not her mother's, so damn her choice in shoes. And Molly retaliated by, well, being Molly.
Ron sighed and ran a palm across his face. While his mother and sister were arguing about shoes and ribbons, he had a bigger problem.
He still hadn't bought Harry a wedding gift.
Well, his sister, too, but he didn't think she would need a present, as he was the one who funded the making of her wedding dress. Just to see his little sister smile so happily up at him was worth losing more than two thousand Galleons making a dress.
But Harry's present? He was stumped. This wasn't Christmas, where he could just give Harry a book about Quidditch and be done with it or his birthday, where he could send him a cake. No, despite Hermione's ravings about him having an emotional range of a teaspoon, he did want to give his best friend something special, something that he would be genuinely happy to have, something –
"Ginevra Molly Weasley! Come back here this second!" There was a loud crash following his mother's shriek, (he wasn't kidding, it really was a shriek. a shriek that would have put banshees to shame) and another loud crash. Ron suspected that the argument had gotten to that stage, where any inanimate, and sometimes animate, objects that had the poor luck in being near the vicinity got thrown against walls.
"I take it their rowing again?" an amused voice asked from out of nowhere. He looked up and saw harry hovering five inches above the ground on his broomstick. His hair was windblown and, even though he was smiling slightly, anxiousness shone in his eyes. Ron smiled. Harry was never good at hiding his emotions.
"I reckon so, yeah." He replied, getting up from his perch and stretching. Harry rolled his eyes and jumped of his broom. "You would think they would get tired of yelling at each other all the time." He sighed.
Ron nodded and patted his back sympathetically. He remembered his wedding. It was a nightmare planning it, but worth it in the end. He told Harry this and he laughed.
"I hope so," he said with a goofy smile on his face. He gave Ron a sideways glance. "Is Molly and Ginny the reason why you're out here?"
Ron shook his head. "Hermione said she won't be helping me pick out your wedding gift." He said casually. 'She's still angry about her books, I reckon."
Harry shook his head. "Why did you do that, anyway?" he asked, 'you knew she was going to be angrier than a hippogriff faced with insults."
Ron grinned ruefully. Truth was, he knew exactly how Hermione would react when he vanished all her books. She did have a lovely temper and when she got angry…
Well, let's just say Ron is a very lucky man.
He hastily changed the subject.
They spent an hour talking about Quidditch, the gnomes in the garden, how much Harry would have liked his mother and the Marauders attend his wedding , until it was finally deemed safe to go inside. It was when they both collapsed on their beds in Ron's room, Harry said in a sleepy voice.
"You don't have to get me anything, you know."
Ron smiled fondly at him. Idiot Harry. Of course, he did.
And he knew just the thing he should get him.
A/N: There will be a sequel! :D I'm working on it a I type, it's called, 'You are cordially invited to the wedding of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasely'. :D
Or something like that. :) If you read, review! :)