You know the deal. Harry Potter and all related names, characters and indicia are copyright of Warner Brothers. Everything else is mine. Much thanks to the girls over at the D/G review board for helping with my French. And to Tessie for saying she's jumping ships and for coming up with the title to this (well, George Strait came up with it, she just told me about it!) :)
FYI: Heart and Heaven are coming soon. Heaven is with the beta reader and Heart is at three pages. Please be patient and pray I get a job soon…I'll write much faster after that. :)
A Love As True As Mine
"Hey…"
"Oh, hi," Harry replied in surprise, looking up at the girl in front of him. "What are you doing here?"
She shrugged. "Same as everybody else. I came to see you get married," the girl smiled sadly, sitting down next to him on the altar steps.
"Oh," he muttered, idly playing with a flower in his hands. "I would have thought you'd have left with everybody else."
"But everybody didn't leave," she countered, gently prying the mangled rose from his fingers. "I think it's dead now Harry. You're safe," she teased, tossing it beside her. "Anyway, Ron and Hermione just left, didn't they, and you're still here. Plus, I wanted to talk to you."
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Pretty pathetic show, huh? I can just see the headlines tomorrow: 'Boy Who Lived Gets Jilted'."
"There won't be any headlines."
"What?"
She grinned. "The Weasley boys were out there 'zapping' people right and left."
"Gabs… What do you mean 'zapping'?" Harry asked warily, turning to face her.
"Memory charms. They took care of everybody, well, almost everybody. Some guests will still remember, but most won't."
Exhaling sharply, Harry put his glasses back on. "Good thinking."
"Thanks!" Gabrielle responded, her smile lighting up her entire face.
"You thought of it?" Harry gasped in disbelief.
"Oi! You don't have to act so shocked by that," she declared, affronted by his tone.
Harry blushed, quickly muttering an apology. "Sorry… I…. Thank you," he stuttered, his tone more grateful than before.
"You're welcome. I just didn't think it needed to be splashed across the dalies. We should leave the tabloid stuff to the Muggles, you know."
Harry nodded. "I just can't believe you thought of that."
"I should be insulted, truly. I'm smarter than I look, Harry Potter. I'm not just a dumb blonde. Remember, cunning, calculating, shrewd…all that Slytherin stuff," she laughed, tossing her long hair over her shoulder.
"Heh, don't remind me," Harry grumbled. "Such a sweet little girl and the Hat puts you in that house," he stated derisively, shaking his head in mock sorrow.
"You go from insulting me to insulting my house. Nice. And Harry," she paused, making eye contact, "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm fifth year. 16 years old now. I was a little girl during the Tournament, not anymore," she stated firmly, her tone making the secondary meaning of her words clear.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Harry quickly changed the subject. "So, how did you get here today? Shouldn't you be in school?"
"Professor Snape owed me a favor," Gabrielle replied flatly, annoyed at his rapid shift in topic. Ever since the summer after the Tournament, when her parents were killed in one of Voldemort's raids, she'd been writing him. At first, the letters were just about how to keep going, sharing their stories about being young and parentless. It had taken a lot for her to write him the first time around, he being famous and all, but he'd responded to her letter and they'd been pen pals of sorts for the last five years. Gabrielle would dare to say that she knew him as well, or even better than, Ron and Hermione. After about a year or so, he started telling her more and more in his letters, including his ill fated romance with Cho Chang, his fears about dying at the hands of Voldemort and letting everybody down, things he would admit to out loud and everything he wouldn't. When he started to send her letters with whole sections crossed out, not bothering to get a fresh sheet of paper, she'd known that something had changed between them. He wasn't hiding anything at that point, even what he didn't want her to 'know'.
Their face-to-face conversations were few and far between with Harry's work for the Ministry and her being in France and then at Hogwarts. Harry'd convinced her sister to send Gabrielle to Hogwarts and rather than Beauxbatons, but Gabrielle still wasn't sure what his reasoning was. It was one of the few things he wouldn't tell her. But Gabrielle secretly hoped that he'd wanted her closer to him. Even if she was six years younger than he was, she coveted him. Yes, he was dating other women throughout their 'relationship' but she doubted he told any of them half as much as he told her. He was, like that Muggle song she'd declared the theme of their 'relationship', saving the best for last.
But then he'd written her about Ginny. Harry wrote her that Ginny was still hung up on Draco, that he always feared the day that Draco returned, knowing that Ginny would leave him in a heartbeat. Yet, he'd still asked her to marry him.
"Do I even want to know?"
His question woke her from the daydream. "Nope. Probably better that you don't."
"So what would your sister have to say about today's events?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the distracted look in her eyes.
Gabrielle imagined her sister's reaction to Draco running into the church, shouting his declarations of love, Ginny's brothers dragging Draco out by his arms and then Ginny, in the end, running from the church with Draco before they both sped away in a shiny Muggle car. Smiling, she began to speak in an exaggerated French accent, "Well, 'e would say zat it was a 'orrible mess. Zat Mademoiselle Weazley's gown was tout à fait pas à la mode. Zat Monsieur Malfoy made un absolu spectacle of 'imself. And 'e would be très certain zat Ginny was a complete and utter idiote to leave you for zat petite furet."
"Fleur would think all that?"
"Yes…well, certainly about the dress," she laughed, patting his knee lightly. "Harry…"
"You don't need to say it, Gabs. I know. I was stupid for even…"
"No!" she interrupted him, grabbing his hands in hers. "You weren't stupid. You just… you were marrying Ginny for the wrong reasons, Harry. You've always thought of the Weasleys as your family, you thought by marrying her that you'd be making it a reality, making it permanent…"
"I was using Ginny you mean?"
"That's not what I mean at all, Harry. You were not using her. You loved her," Gabrielle stated point-blank, the words tasting acrid on her lips. "And she loved you, but you also knew that she was in love with Draco. You just chose to ignore that. I'm not making much sense, I know, but Harry whatever you think, you didn't deserve this. You deserve so much more than this."
Harry pursed his lips, sighing almost inaudibly. "Thanks. How come you can always make me feel better?" he asked jokingly, nudging her with his elbow.
"I'm gifted like that," she whispered, blushing furiously. She exhaled slowly, trying to calm her nerves before jumping to her feet. "Let's get out of here." Harry looked at her in puzzlement and she grabbed his hand, trying to pull him up. "I'll buy you a pint or two."
"You're too young to buy me a pint, let alone two," Harry pointed out.
"Ok, well, then you can order yourself the pint and I'll slip you the quid under the table. Capisce?"
"Capisce?" he mocked, coming to his feet beside her.
"Sssh… Don't tell Snape but we've found a way to watch Muggle movies in the common room. 'You think I'm funny? What about me makes you laugh?'" she quoted, this time with a thick New York accent. "Wanna hear my Southern drawl?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "Great balls of fire! Don't bother me anymore, and don't call me sugar!" Seeing him smile, she sighed dramatically, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead. "Harry... If you go ... where shall I go? What shall I do?" Harry muttered something about her being crazy when she planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "Now Harry, you're looking at me as if you know what I look like without my shimmy!"
He finally burst out laughing, collapsing back onto the steps as she grinned at him. "You're certifiable," he gasped, trying to catch his breath as she dropped back down next to him. "I never should have taken you to see that movie…"
"Aah, now, come on. You loved it. All that drama, the romance, the corsets…" He laughed again and she smiled, "Better now?"
"Yeah…"
"Good, then come on, there's a pint with your name on it…" she prodded, standing up and smoothing out the wrinkles in her pale blue silk robes.
"Some night this has turned out to be…" Harry mumbled, earning himself a slight kick in the shin.
"What? You're complaining about spending the night getting royally drunk with your bestest friend in the whole wide world?" she pouted, looking put out.
"I didn't know Ron was back," he joked, snickering at her furious expression. "It's just… wedding night shagging or hanging out in a bar with your underage girl…" he paused, blushing as he realized he was going to say girl friend but knowing she'd hear it as girlfriend.
Gabrielle sighed, that damn age issue again. "Wedding night shagging isn't all it's made out to be."
Harry choked, "What do you know about shagging?"
Smiling impishly, she mumbled softly, "I told you I'm not a little girl anymore." Harry began making a weird sputtering noise and she rolled her eyes, sighing, "Oh Harry…" After tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she glanced down at her watch. "Time's a wasting. Let's get moving. I can't contain myself just thinking of how much fun I'll have watching drink yourself under the table."
"Now you're making fun of me?"
"No, I'm preparing to make fun of you. It's a crucial distinction," she kidded, leaning forward and grabbing his shoulders. "And fair is fair. You laugh at me, I laugh at you." Trying to pull him up, she grunted, "Ugh, you're heavy. Let's stand up…"
Harry stood, peering down at her. She was grinning, a triumphant expression on her face. It wasn't hard to see the Veela in her when she looked at him like he hung the moon. He realized with a jolt that in all his years of knowing Ginny, even when her crush on him was at its height; she'd never looked at him like that. Harry exhaled slowly, shaking those thoughts from his head. Gabby was only 16. And he was 21. Even though she was almost legal, it just didn't seem right… Damn, he felt like a letch. Especially when he found himself looking down her dress, noticing how good she smelled, how pretty she was… 'STOP!' he yelled at himself, snapping his eyes at the back of the church.
"What?" she whispered, noticing how he ran his fingers through his constantly messy hair with almost a violent jerk.
"Nothing."
Gabrielle nodded, sure he was lying but not wanting to press it. She threaded her fingers through his and pulled him forward. "Then let's go."