"I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck
Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me."
Harry sat hunched over the Weasley's kitchen table, his face in his hands and absently tracing the lightning shaped scare that marred his alabaster forehead. He sighed, peeking through his fingers at the outside world, where people were running about outside, hurrying to get last minute flower arrangements done, and putting out extra seats for the forgotten guests.
Life was unfair, he thought as he watched her float around out there with them, elegant in her pale yellow dress, looking fresh and summery. She laughed with her brother as a garden gnome attached itself to Fred's leg, gnawing into his black suit pants.
He closed his eyes again, it hurt to look at her for too long, she had understood, she had moved on, now it was his turn. He loosened his tie, it had a stranglehold on his neck, Arthur had definitely done it too tight for the heat that made everyone slick with sweat.
"Harry dear?" Molly popped her head inside the house, looking perfect for the wedding. "Are you okay? Is your scar hurting again?" She worried too much about him, he was perfectly fine.
"I'm fine, it's always tingling, it doesn't bother me so much any more," he mumbled, he'd done a lot of that lately, mumbling. He was frightened of opening his mouth too much, maybe he'd say something stupid again and ruin things with everyone else as well as her.
Harry scrapped the chair against the floor as he stood. He was sick of everyone, sick of them all worrying about him. He was perfectly fine! Or so he told others. They didn't believe him, he stared off into space regularly, zoning out from reality, and slipping into his own little day mares of snakes slithering around a tomb stone that read his own name. He was loosing himself, but he had to pull through all of this, and play the part of a hero again.
He brushed past Mrs Weasley as he exited the kitchen, a bee buzzed past his ear, and he shooed it away angrily. Molly sighed, he was hopelessly lost, he had broken his own heart saying goodbye to her daughter, he had torn hers up too.
As Fleur and Bill wed, Harry flickered his gaze to Ginny in her pretty yellow dress, her red hair not clashing one bit with it as she had been scared of. He began to release a sigh, but then thought better of it, turning it into a let go of breath. An unknown family member looked at him in disgust, having mistaken the breath for a sigh of frustration and impatience.
Inwardly, Harry rolled his eyes, outwardly, he gave the lady an apologetic look, meekly settling back into his chair to gaze back up at the couple exchanging vows. By Fleur's side, the only red-head there suppressed a smile.
He didn't hear a word of what was said, he vaguely heard women sob, and men murmuring well-wishes, the event was a blur, just as the prior weeks had been. Finally the ceremony ended, and everyone moved into another section of the garden where three long tables had been set up in an open square, there wasn't copious amounts of people, but enough to take up three long tables.
Harry's stiffened legs strained at the walk to the tables, he was guided by Mrs Weasley between Ron and Hermione.
The heat made the air thick like honey, and it was difficult to keep awake during all the speeches that were made before anyone could eat. He wanted this to end. He hated being social like this, he wanted to eat, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to be left alone.
You want, you want, you want, mocked a small part of his brain. You can't even be happy for someone who's like a brother for you! He just survived one of the worst experiences ever, and is getting married to a woman who happens to love him very much. You are a being a selfish little brat, too spoiled for your own good.
Guilt plugged his throat, pushing down on his stomach so that he wasn't hungry any more. He forced himself to attention, trying desperately to listen to the talking.
He was once again distracted though, as he leaned forward, he found that there were multiple other people mirroring him. On the other side of the speech maker Ginny leaned, her gaze instead of being on the speaker, was fixed firmly on him. He didn't shy away, and avert his gaze, he looked back at her. A small smile passed over her lips as she looked at him, and Harry was happy for the first time since Dumbledore's death.
And then she mouthed, "Dance with me," and the pace of his heart sky-rocketed. He nodded, and smiled slightly back, before he dragged his eyes away from her, and forced them on the speaker.
However, despite him appearing to pay attention, he couldn't. Regret gripped on his heart like a vice, why had he agreed to that? He was trying to keep her safe, and pushing her away was for the best, this would make the transition so much harder.
But the reckless part of his mind, the part that so often scolded him for being a thick and arrogant arse, told him quietly, What's a dance gonna do to put her in danger?
He gulped heavily as the last speech ended, he was so grateful, he could have kissed someone.
After a waved wand, food floated from an open kitchen door, plates upon plates of food, pitchers of drink followed, their contents swishing dangerously inside the mismatched jugs.
Things settled and everyone dug in. There was never a lull in conversation, and it felt just like he was at Hogwarts again, with Dumbledore alive and well, and no war, no disasters. Peace reigned on his thoughts, and he smiled to himself silently as Hermione and Ron bickered over his head.
The meal passed way too quickly for Harry's liking, and the obligation he had made to Ginny stuck firmly to his mind, as the new Mr and Mrs Weasly shared the first dance, he shrugged out of his jacket, the black material had attracted the sun, and he began to sweat. He rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing slightly muscular forearms, tan from spending a week out in the garden, kicking out gnomes and weeding.
Music played over and over, and Harry waited patiently for Ginny to come to him. He watched her slowly make her way over, every now and then getting caught up by a member of her family, she danced and chatted. She looked like a goddess with her dress fluttering around her pale form in the slight breeze that cooled everyone down.
It wasn't too long before Ginny was standing in front of him, in all her red-headed glory, giving him an expectant look. Harry didn't talk, he didn't think he could, he didn't want to out of fear he would say something stupid.
He stood and offered her his hand. She too was silent as she took it and he led them out on the floor. He kept her at a safe distance. Not so far away that it looked uncomfortable and like he didn't want to do this, but not so close that their bodies were flush.
He looked down at her, only a little bit; he wasn't exceptionally tall. She looked up at him. Ginny bit her lip, drawing attention to it. Memories flooded back into Harry's mind, and he almost blushed. He missed them being like this, being an 'us', a 'we'.
The proximity of them made him nervous, she made him nervous altogether, and he was suddenly terribly conscious of where his hands were, one gently clasping hers the other resting softly on her back. And then he was conscious of hers, one so small in his, and the other on his shoulder where his neck began.
He let out a shaky breath, and it didn't go unnoticed. He puckered up all his courage, and threw the apology he had said so many times before out there.
"I'm really sorry I did it, Gin."
Her look gentle look flickered with anger, and she struggled to keep everything under control. "Save the apologies for someone who cares," she spat. "Maybe it was for the best, maybe I would be safer not around you."
Harry hung his head, but kept moving her around with the music. Ginny wasn't finished though, she had to let this one out, she had to know.
"Did you really break up with me because you were worried about my safety? Or was it, was it," she faltered, but coughed and started again. "Or was it because you just didn't, didn't feel anything anymore?"
He met her eyes, her strong brown eyes that glinted with determination. He was appalled. Appalled that the thought even crossed her mind!
He let out a strangled cry, terribly frustrated, and in need of privacy to speak with her. Harry looked around furiously, searching for a way out. He found a small crop of trees, no one was there, and no one would see them leave.
Ginny gave him a look, she was just as frustrated as he was, but for a different reason. She needed to know this answer. She needed to know before she could completely move on.
He moved inconspicuously towards the edge of the small area set up for dancing, and then pulled her away from the crowd and into the small forest. He trudged just deep enough into the trees so they couldn't be seen.
"Where are you taking me?" she questioned furiously, and he glared at her.
"If we're going to talk about this, I would like to do it privately," he spat back, speaking louder than he had all holidays.
Ginny grunted at him, and turned away, but not leaving. He dropped her hand, he hadn't even thought of letting go before then. The girl spun again. "Are you going to answer my question or what?"
There was a stream next to them, it bubbled merrily, it was too happy for the situation they were in. That sort of noise belonged back at the wedding party, where everyone was happy laughing and dancing.
"How could you even assume that I stopped feeling anything!" he half yelled, anger simmering at the edges of his voice, it framed the complete and utter resent of her question. "If I stopped feeling anything, I would've done it differently! In fact! If I wasn't sure that I would never stop feeling anything, I would never have kissed you that night!"
Ginny balked at the sight of him, he was angry, and she was scared of an angry Harry Potter. But then she felt her own anger boiling. "Well then why did you leave me? I was miserable without you! I've never felt safer with anyone else! You could never put me in danger! Or haven't you noticed that I have the Order watching me to, just because you had been involved with me?"
She breathed heavily, her fists glued to her sides, and her stance tense. Harry was surprised at her outburst, he never thought she had it in her.
He let out another strangled cry and looked to the heavens, the mess of trees blurring his vision of the pure blue sky. He looked down and within seconds he had pressed his mouth to hers, using up every little bit of anger he had felt.
She buried her hands in his hair, so soft and warm from the heat, his hands fell right to her waist, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up slightly. He ran his hands over her back, while she pulled on his hair.
They broke away panting, and he grinned wolfishly. "I wish I hadn't ever let you go," he said, and pressed his lips back on hers.
She pushed his face away, "Sweetie, you had me from the very beginning, and you always had me."
Hidden in the bushes Ron and Hermione looked at each other, "I wondered how long it would take them to get back together. They were both miserable," Hermione mentioned, before taking his hand and dragging him away.
Based on Panic! At the Disco's Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off