A/N:
Written for The Houses Competition, Year Two, Round One.
House: Hufflepuff
Year: 5th
Category: Themed
Prompt: Gretna Green
Theme: Theme: Friendship - A true friend stands by through the best and the worst.
Wordcount: 3421 (Google Docs)
Thank you to starspangledpumpkin and 1917Farmgirl for betaing this fic!
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"But we'd match," Neville slurred, waving his glass of whiskey around. "Quick, get your little stick out and change my tie and cummerbund!"
Luna chose not to mention that Neville wasn't wearing his tie and cummerbund, and instead waved her wand, changing the collar of his shirt and his belt buckle to a manly hue of salmon. It was hideous, but this wasn't about her. She was going to make sure that she was the best best mate she could be for her best mate's wedding; if that meant humoring the groom on the eve of his nuptials through Transfiguration and perception charms, then that's what she would do.
"I want to look memorable," Neville mumbled into his glass.
Well, Hannah would never forgive Neville showing up to his wedding ceremony in salmon, Luna thought. She'd talk him out of it by morning.
She'd never given much thought to weddings, having no reason to. In fact, recently, she'd made herself think as little about her own personal life as possible. Thinking about "the one" just made her melancholy.
Never mind any of that. Her best mate was getting married. She needed to keep up her spirits.
Hermione had given her several books to read about weddings, trying not to be sour about not getting invited. When Luna explained that no one was invited, Hermione had taken it a bit more gracefully. Hannah had asked Susan Bones along to be her maid of honor, but that was it, making it easier for the rest of their friends to understand, as good friends did, that Neville and Hannah had wanted to sneak away quietly for a small ceremony. Neville had told her that she could invite a special someone, if she had wanted. Luna looked out the window of the Tap Room in Gretna Green, hoping to see a patch of red hair passing by, but so far, no one else had shown up.
Neville and Hannah had promised to throw a party after the honeymoon was over. Something small. Informal. And no scratchy breast ruffles. Neville hated those.
Luna surmised that she'd head up the planning of that event as well, having taken care of everything at Gretna Green before Neville and Hannah had arrived. The village was an idyllic setting for a romantic getaway, with a history steeped in hasty weddings. The staff had eagerly recommended the Blacksmith's Shop as the perfect location after Luna described the circumstances. Even the goats were ready. She forced herself not to look in the direction of the goats. That was just a contingency plan that Neville didn't need to know about.
And now all she had to do was fill the role of "best mate of the groom" for the day. Even though Neville and Hannah had run off to get married, there were still a few things that the bride-to-be had insisted on to keep with tradition. One of which was that Neville shouldn't see the bride the day before the wedding. He hadn't liked that part. He'd wanted the four of them to go sightseeing around the quaint little town, but Susan and Hannah had pre-wedding plans, which left Luna to look after the sulking groom. That was alright. There were a few things on Luna's list of duties that she planned to follow as well.
She'd already started him drinking, for one. In hindsight, that might not have been the best idea. Neville was overthinking things, which he was prone to do when he got overstressed. He'd found out on the trip up to Scotland that Susan's dress was pink, and then got it into his head that since Susan and Luna were both wearing something pink, he might as well too.
Anyway, back to the drinking. The main job of the best mate was to get the groom plastered the night before, and then sober him up before the wedding. She should be aces at this. She took a sip of the whiskey, which was fantastic, but she wanted to be careful that she didn't end up plastered herself. She had a groom to take care of after all
Luna patted him on the back. "Alright, Neville? I'm going to get you some water. I'll be right back."
He was still mumbling into his glass when she returned with a pitcher of water.
"Well, I had this plan, but it turned out badly..." Neville continued on a tangent regarding a cottage in the mountains and stolen dragon eggs.
That bit was probably a bit of Luna's doing, when they'd had too much of an adventure trying to find the perfect honeymoon spot for the happy couple. Neville ditched the idea of a dragon-infested chalet in the Transylvanian Alps and booked a fishing cabin on Wade Lake. Luna had never heard of a place called Montana, but that made Neville all the more insistent that it was the perfect spot, having nothing to do with dragons or smuggling magical artifacts. It was peaceful, he'd said. And nothing exciting ever happened in Montana.
"Drink this," she said, exchanging his whiskey glass for a water glass. "We'll slow down for now and get you properly sloshed tonight. Then I'll stand you up for the big event in the morning."
"You're right. I shouldn't be drinking like this when I can still see the sun," Neville slurred, waving an arm towards the window of the Tap Room. Then his brain seemed to turn over. "Sloshed? This isn't proper enough?"
"Hmm…" Luna said, taking a closer look at the tray of whiskey samples. It wasn't clear who had had what, and she was starting to feel a little lightheaded. She poured herself a tall glass of water and sipped it slowly.
"By the way," Neville said into his own water glass. "Where's Charlie? I thought he'd come round. For the liquor part, at least."
"Charlie?" Luna hadn't expected the wave of sadness to wash over her as it did. Neville must have caught on, and he immediately frowned.
"Sorry, Luna. I didn't mean to…"
"No, I'm fine," she said quickly. "Would it be alright if we didn't talk about it?"
"Yeah, sorry," Neville said. He still looked like he'd stepped in a minefield. (And stopped talking, which was rather uncharacteristic of him when he was drinking)
Silence was nice, if it wasn't with Neville. He always made her feel like talking. That's why they got along so well, Luna decided. And then she remembered what she had been thinking about recently - getting married was like getting a new best friend. Neville and Hannah had been together for the better part of a year, not living together officially yet, having something to do with Neville's grandmother. So the sudden idea to get married this weekend (after clearing it with Hannah's boss work schedule and Susan's schedule… so not entirely impromptu, but impromptu enough to not tell anyone else… also having something to do with Neville's grandmother) hadn't come completely out of the blue. Of course she'd still see him, but it would be with Hannah. Which wasn't a bad thing. She liked Hannah, but it would be different. She hadn't found her own "Hannah" yet, which was painfully obvious by Charlie's absence.
Yes, silence was nice, unless there was something to say.
She sighed. "It's just… I'm having a hard time with the 'no strings' part of the agreement."
Neville's eyebrows rose. "What does that mean?"
"With Charlie," she clarified. "He's gone out of the country for so long at a time that he… we… decided that we shouldn't make too much of a fuss about things."
Neville blew bubbles into his water. "Huh," he said. "That sounds… difficult."
They sat in silence for a while longer, until Luna finished her thoughts out loud. "I know I said that he might come round, but that was only because when I mentioned it to him, he didn't say that he couldn't come."
Neville's head snapped up suddenly. "Remember when I said I didn't care what you wear to the ceremony?"
"Yes, I remember that." Of course she remembered; She wanted to do whatever was needed. Since it was just Neville, Hannah, Susan and herself for the ceremony, they'd promised a big party at the Leaky Cauldron once they got back to London. Neville and Hannah decided that it wouldn't feel like eloping if they invited too many people.
Neville, well, he didn't have parents who could come, and Hannah had been living over the Inn ever since she got her job. Her father, she'd said, would just have to be surprised.
And then there was Neville's grandmother. Ever since the engagement, she'd talked non stop about a large gathering with tents and flowers and caterers and…
Neville wanted no part of that, but he'd rather swallow a pig whole than confront her on the issue.
"I want you to wear the dress," Neville declared. "I know you said you'd wear the suit for me, since you're my best mate, but I'd rather you wear the dress. You deserve to look pretty."
She was trying hard not to think about what Charlie might say about the dress. She'd hoped he would like it. No, she shouldn't think that way. This was for Neville, and she needed to be happy for him.
"Susan and Hannah said that I should wear the dress too," Luna said.
"Well, good."
Good. She rather liked the dress, even if no one special would see her in it.
"Luna?"
"Yes?"
"Can this count as being sloshed for the night? It's only four o'clock in the afternoon, and I don't feel like drinking anymore for the day."
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Neville had never been so nervous in all of his life. Maybe it was because every time he got a bad case of nerves, he managed to block it out of his mind afterwards so he wouldn't relive the memory. But then what could be more nerve wracking than getting married?
Luna, his best friend, stood beside him. She'd been a real friend after the battle. He'd gotten a lot of attention for slaying that snake, but it was the sort of attention that he could have done without.
Luna often reminded him that there were still people in the world that saw him as he was, not as who they wanted him to be.
She always had a way of being upfront about things. He felt bad about bringing up Charlie the day before. He didn't like seeing his friend sad. In fact, he wanted to knock Charlie's front teeth out, but Charlie was out of the country. And there was also the minor fact about Charlie standing several inches above him. And probably being fitter, and quicker. The man wrangled dragons for a living.
It was really no contest. Neville potted seedlings and watered cuttings and graded second year essays that barely had anything to do with the subject matter he was trying to teach at Hogwarts. There wasn't much muscle involved in his daily activities.
Still, he was the closest thing Luna had to a big brother. If he ever saw Charlie again, he'd at least give him a piece of his mind. Preferably from a distance. Maybe by owl… while he was in Montana… or not. He could talk it over with Hannah. She'd help him figure out the best course of action.
Hannah.
Oh. Yes. And there came the nerves back, like an avalanche. He'd chosen Gretna Green because it was a small town. The fewer the people around, the better. Also, it was historically known for runaway weddings, and running was something he did fairly well.
The Blacksmith's shop, at the heart of the village, was a small, cozy room. The centerpiece, an old anvil, stood proud, with the presiding wizard holding a ceremonial hammer, waiting for them to enter.
It was difficult to find a wizard to do the ceremony at the last minute. They'd planned everything else. Even had a mock up of the invitation that he'd never sent to anyone. They just told Susan and Luna by word of mouth, like a real runaway wedding should be.
And then they'd run off to Montana. Well, ride an airplane to Montana. Hannah said she knew all about air travel that didn't have to do with Thestrals or brooms. Neville would just have to trust her on that.
Luna walked to the center of the room and waited with him, shooting him an occasional smile of encouragement. Somewhere she'd gotten a set of pearls, and it was clear that Susan had done something with her hair.
Neville cleared his throat. "Charlie is an idiot, by the way."
"Thank you, Neville. I'm beginning to feel the same way."
"Good."
At least his grandmother, with her vulture hat, was not here to pass judgement on him. Her vision of a big wedding with lots of family that he'd never heard of was like a nightmare to him.. All the family he needed was right here.
Luna looked a little down, but suddenly she brightened. "Here she comes!"
Hannah was so beautiful. Years later, he wouldn't remember much about the dress or the hair, but he would always remember the way that his chest tightened when she looked at him.
Luna looked a little down, but suddenly she brightened. "Here she comes!"
Neville's head was still a bit fuzzy from the drinking the day before, and the pepperup potion only masked things for so long. But something seemed to be going on behind his stunning bride, somewhere outside the Blacksmiths shop.
"It's fine," Luna said. "Keep going."
He nodded. He trusted her.
As the wizard began his ceremonial spell, there was another disturbance, this time coming from one of the windows, and he swore he'd recognized a shrill voice… or maybe it was the nerves again.
"It's alright," Luna said. "Never mind the commotion. It's the goats."
And then suddenly, the Officiary slammed his hammer down on the anvil. Sparks flew. "There. You're married."
Luna clasped her hands together in delight. "Should I give my speech now?"
"We discussed this. No speech necessary."
Luna looked a little disappointed, and he thought he saw her hide away a rolled piece of parchment in the folds of her dress. What would a speech from Luna Lovegood sound like?
She was a great friend, remember? And yet, she always said the strangest things in the most inopportune times. Yes, it was better this way. Just Neville and Hannah with two of their closest friends. The way it should be. No hassle. No complications. And tomorrow they'd be on their way to a quiet, relaxing honeymoon.
And eventually, he'd tell his grandmother the good news.
Maybe he'd send her an owl while they were out of the country. Or, maybe it'd be okay if they just showed up for Sunday Dinner and announced that it was done. Or perhaps he could wait until after their first anniversary, and his grandmother would be too polite to make a scene.
Now THAT was highly unlikely. There'd be a scene, one way or another. Neville didn't know when he would be able to face his grandmother again.
As they walked out of the Blacksmith's shop, he heard the unmistakable bleating of goats.
"Luna?"
"You didn't want any interruptions," Luna explained.
And then he saw it. A whole herd of goats, bleating and stomping their feet in front of the historical pub where they'd gotten sloshed the afternoon before,. There, on the walkway in front of them, lay a large, black, pointed witch's hat with a huge stuffed vulture perched on it.
It was his grandmother's hat. It couldn't be anyone else's.
Luna smiled. "See? I had everything covered. And it had nothing to do with dragons."
"But she's here," Neville stage whispered. "She's not supposed to be here!"
"She can't ruin your wedding. It's already over. That's what I promised you."
Neville looked at Hannah, and then he couldn't help himself. He was laughing. He was crying. And then he couldn't tell what he was doing. Maybe this was how it felt to have a mental breakdown.
No matter what Luna said about the absence of dragons, she obviously didn't know his grandmother very well.
"Go and see what she wants," Luna said. "You might remember the Tap Room has an amazing selection of whiskey."
"As if that would help," Neville mumbled.
Hannah took his hand and squeezed it tightly. "We'll face her together."
Luna was a few steps behind them. She didn't look worried, but that wasn't helping Neville's insides.
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"Hello, Grandmother," Neville said resignedly. "How did you find us?"
"Ah, the happy couple."
Augusta Longbottom was settled between two goats on a long leather settee, in an uncharacteristically relaxed position. She sat up at the sight of Neville and his bride, followed by Luna.
Were his eyes deceiving him or was she… tipsy?
"I just had a wee dram," she slurred. "The goats offered it to me, and I wasn't about to rudely decline."
"Mrs. Longbottom," Hannah said in her most professional service voice. Merlin praise the woman who still had a straight face. "We can explain…"
Augusta Longbottom produced the folded mock wedding invitation out of her bag. Neville cringed when he saw it. "You can explain why I didn't receive my wedding invitation until I went through Neville's dirty laundry this morning?"
"I… have no words for that," Hannah said truthfully.
"Now that you are properly married," his grandmother said, "there isn't much I can say about it, except that you have a lovely wife."
Neville hadn't expected that.
"And I'm sure you both will be very happy together."
Neville suspiciously narrowed his eyes at his grandmother. He had imagined a grand lecture from the queen of lectures, but her concession just made him feel guilty. For one moment, he allowed himself to think that it might not have been so bad to have a member of his family at the ceremony after all. It seemed sort of silly not to have included her, now that it was all over.
"I'm sorry for not inviting you," he said.
"I brought you something."
This took Neville completely by surprise if it were possible to be more surprised than he was now. She had gotten them a wedding gift?
The old woman patted her silver bun down with one hand, and with the other, reached into her large handbag to pull out a stiff white envelope. It was crisp and unblemished, and looked just like the wedding invitation should have looked, had he given her one. She handed it over to him.
"What is it?" Neville asked.
"Open it," she said.
He tore open the seal, the Longbottom seal (he didn't know until now that he had a family seal, but now he knew…. He hoped Hannah would like it…) and inside was a crisp white card that looked exactly like a wedding invitation - gilded and loopy script, with the name "Longbottom" easily recognizable, smack in the middle.
Neville was afraid to read it. He handed it over to Hannah, who sucked in a breath. "You'd better look at this," she whispered to him.
"Now that the wedding is done, you are cordially invited to the formal reception when you return to England," his grandmother said. "I've already done up the invitations."
Neville felt his world spinning out of control. It wasn't supposed to go this way. Nothing with his grandmother was ever quiet, or easy. Now there'd be pomp. And ceremony. All he'd get out of it was a memory of a horribly drawn out evening in a sea of strangers and a bad case of indigestion. And his grandmother would make him wear one of those scratchy breast ruffles.
And Luna… he should probably thank her for whatever happened with the goats. Without it, his wedding would have been ruined. At least she'd deferred the unpleasantries of dealing with his grandmother to the short-lived afterglow.
Augusta's red-rimmed eyes searched the room. "Where is your best man?"
"Best mate," Luna piped up. "I'm the one."
Augusta frowned. "You have a speech, I assume."
Luna brightened up immediately. "Yes, I do. It's right here!"
Neville caught himself before he could groan out loud. Luna patted his arm.
"It's going to be fine, Neville. I can save the speech for your grandmother's reception. And I'll help her with the preparations for when you get back to England."
Neville thought about what that may entail, and thought a little harder about Luna sticking her fingers in his grandmother's plans… and he almost smiled.
"Thanks, Luna."
"That's what best friends are for!"