Hi, guys! So, I know I should be working on my KOTLC fanfic-sorry for the cliff hanger on that one-but I was reading Harry Potter fanfics today and came up with this idea for a one-shot. Hope you enjoy!
The Burrow was alive with festivities, family, and proper dress. After all, what would a wedding be, the first wedding after the Second Wizarding War, without an extra bang?
Fiancé(e)s, husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends ran around downstairs and up, preparing for the ceremony scheduled that afternoon, but the third floor was strangely quiet. Ron and Hermione were preparing together and yet apart, each with their closest friends. And, of course, being Ron and Hermione, they were both nervous wrecks.
"Mate, you've forgotten the tie." Harry stood in front of the door, barricading it so Ron couldn't get through. "And it's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony."
"How would you know?" Ron asked snippily, but he stepped back and busied himself with the ends of his white bowtie. "Bloody hell, the muggles make it hard, don't they?" He instead grabbed his wand from the dresser, and knotted the tie with a lazy wave. "What if something doesn't go right?" Harry sighed again, grabbing the boutonniere off the bed and passing it to Ron. "Everything will go fine, unless you forget your head." Ron cracked a nervous smile, hooking the white rose into his buttonhole. "Right. Am I decent?" Harry nodded. Ron was wearing a black suit, white dress shirt, and the mentioned white bowtie. "You ready to get married?"
Across the hall, Hermione was equally nervous. "What if the ceremony goes wrong? Or George blows up the altar, or something?" Ginny laughed, already in her navy bridesmaid's dress. "Relax, Hermione. It'll go off without a hitch, and Angelina will keep George roped in. After all, she is his fiancée." Hermione nodded. It was true that when George and Angelina were together, he was much less reckless. "Alright. How do I look?" Ginny smiled, lighting up her face. "Beautiful." Hermione did look stunning, after all. The strapless wedding dress fell in sparkling waves to her feet, fanning out on the floor like a princess dress. Her hair was up, embedded with a diamond tiara. Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm ready to get married."
The July day was sunny, which had been worried about almost as much as the clothing and cake. Seats were set up in the garden, lining the aisle, which, though wasn't a red carpet, was lined with bright summer flowers and was beautiful nonetheless. The tent behind was still being set up by Bill and Charlie, whose dress robes were rolled up in the heat. Only participants in the wedding ceremony were dressed like muggles.
The music started, and family members scrambled to get to their seats. Harry stood at the altar next to Ron and George, noticing how Ron's fingers were playing with the hem of his jacket, then fixing the sleeves, then back to the hem, over and over and over. "You'll be fine, mate," he whispered, and Ron smiled back.
The flower girl was Victoire Weasley, who although wasn't as dainty as was wanted, was very cute. Part of the time, she held hands with Teddy, who was the ring bearer, and part of the time she forgot that he existed, placing white rose petals methodically into everyone's laps.
Then there was Ginny, the maid of honour, who made Harry's heart flutter not altogether unpleasantly. And finally, what they had been waiting for—Hermione, who strode down the aisle, her arm hooked into her father's. Harry heard Ron's breath hitch in his chest.
The vows were short and sweet, just as they were supposed to be, and the rest of the evening carried on without a hitch. Harry was sitting at one of the tables, by himself, watching his best mates dance. Hermione had Ron's undone bowtie around her neck, and Ron's shirt had come untucked. They were swaying to the music, nose to nose, and Harry was startled when someone sat down next to him.
"Want to take a walk?" Ginny asked, smirking at him. She had obviously seen him watching the newlyweds.
"Of course, Trouble." It was Harry's nickname for her, the only person allowed to call her so. Smiling widely, Ginny took Harry's hand, leading him out the tent flap and into the night air. Harry walked next to her, eyes on the ground, fingering the box in his pocket that was worrying him. "What is it?" Ginny tapped him playfully. He smiled looking up. "Nothing, Gin. You look beautiful tonight."
And it was true, she did. The bridesmaids dress was empire-waisted and the fabric sparkled, caught in the light of the lanterns. Ginny's hair was down, and the soft curls had a white rose tucked into them, which matched Hermione's bouquet. She smiled. "Why so nervous?" Harry sighed. "Let's sit for a moment, Gin."
They found a bench beside one of the bushes, a secluded patch that Harry felt was private enough. He took a deep breath.
"You know when I kissed you, Gin? After we won the Quidditch Cup?" She smiled, recalling the memory. "Well…oh, bloody hell, I don't know how to say this." He took another deep breath.
"When I'm with you, I feel whole. I feel like a better person. Gin, I don't think I could date anyone but you." She nodded her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So, um, would you—" His voice cracked as he pulled the box out of his pocket. "Would you marry me?" Now tears were streaming down her face. "Oh, Harry, yes!" He flipped the ring box open, and slipped the gold ring onto her finger. "Oh, Harry. It's—it's perfect." The ring was plain in contrast to Hermione and Fleur's engagement rings, but it had a sprinkle of diamonds and sapphires across the twisted band, and Harry felt that it was—it was almost made for Ginny. "I love you," he whispered into the night, kissing her cheek. She responded by attacking him, pushing him off the bench and onto the grass. "I love you, too." She kissed him, and he smiled, staring up at the night sky.
Because it was a truly beautiful night to be Harry Potter.
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