A rather flushed Hermione greeted Harry as he appeared upon the doorstep of the Burrow. "Oh, Harry!" she flung her arms around him, "Thank Godric you're here! I'm at my wits end, I've tried everything. He's inconsolable... The PRAT! Just sitting there gazing out that damn window, barely responsive. There's so much to do and.." After a certain amount of years spent with Hermione Harry had learned to spot when she was about to launch herself into a long, emotionally exhausting rant, and cut her off kindly. "Don't worry; you do what you have to do. Go get ready. I'll talk to him". Harry just hoped that Ron would see sense.
Harry had had a looming fear that this would happen. He had felt that somewhere in the back of his mind Ron had persuaded himself into believing that this day would never come. Harry remembered the fateful night three months ago when the news had been broken. He recalled Ron's emotionally volatile behaviours, and the speed in which they had changed. Upon hearing the news initially Ron had simply seemed to freeze. It was the first time in Harry's memory that he had seen his best friend loose his appetite. He was astounded, though that astonishment was quickly replaced by a nervous laugh, which gave way to a stronger laugh. The laughter was soon replaced by anger when he realised that no-one else was laughing. That this ridiculous idea ('punishment') was a serious matter. "OVER MY DEAD BODY!" were the last words Harry had heard before he had taken his cue and left swiftly with Ginny.
The next day the rage had been replaced with an irksome calm. A menaced smile crept over his face, whenever the topic was raised. Yes, Harry knew that the reason Ron now appeared distraught was because the day of reckoning had arrived, and the realisation had finally hit him (as heavy as a bludger hit by one of the Weasley twins during their quidditch days) that this was really going to happen. Harry sympathised with the youngest of his brother-in-laws, as he knew under normal circumstances this day would have keeled Ron over emotionally, but under these circumstances he feared a coronary failure would befall his friend.
As he passed through the kitchen towards the sitting room he couldn't help but notice the buzz of activity. Wouldn't be long now he thought. Ron was gazing out the window at the mountains and hills that surround the family haven when Harry entered. George was doing his best trying to cheer him up with timely sympathetic back pats, and for once refrained from inciting his little brother. Upon noticing Harry's arrival George bee lined towards him, unable to hide the look of relief from spreading across his speckled face. "I've never seen little Ronnikins in such a bad state. I'm afraid he may panic and do something crazy like blow us all up! Hasn't spoken more than the odd grunt in over an hour. He needs to get a move on to, can't imagine 'Mione would take to kindly to him showing up late, 'spect she'd give 'im a right old earful", George chuckled as he went to pull on his absent ear. A casualty from the war it may have been, but that absent ear had caused more laughs than tears over the years. A lesser man would not have been capable to make it so, but capability was never something George (or for that matter Fred) had ever been lacking. "Right Harry mate! Good Luck! I'm off to find Lee, apparently he's discovered a new species of Hungarian ant that, when mixed correctly can produce steam from the consumers head. It's for the store's April Fool's day merchandise", he shot a quick grin at Ron, "hot head collection", and with a swift pat on the shoulder he was gone.
Harry approached cautiously, "Alright Ron?" Ron turned to look at him and shot Harry a distasteful look "No! I'm bloody not". Harry took a deep inhale as he thought how best to comfort his friend whose ears were twinging pink, as they always did when he was frustrated. "You know what Harry mate, after Voldemort I thought I would be able for anything". Harry winced slightly. Ron always did have a knack to terribly exaggerate the seriousness of a situation, to rewrite certain bits of stories, to the point of making himself sick. A grin spilled over Harry's face as he remembered that was why Ron had eventually stopped recalling the time the two of them had been taken hostage in the forbidden forest by Aragog. Each time he had recanted the story the size of the spider had grown by at least 5 feet, until the thought of his own fabricated memories petrified him too much to even think about.
"Come on Ron, It'll be alright. You'll get though it! We're Gryffindors! The Golden Trio" he added with a sound of distaste. (The Golden Trio was the phrase coined by the ever insatiable Rita Skeeter following the war in reference to himself, Hermione and Ron. Harry was convinced she had coined the term in a deliberate attempt to annoy him) "That's alright for you to say Harry. You just wait. Wait 'til it's your turn. Bet it won't even be that long coming" Ron snarled. Harry tried to push this thought from his mind, before his own fears disabled him from talking sense into his dear friend.
After nearly half an hour of talking Harry decided to try another tactic. "Well, in the end Ron I guess what it comes down to is..." "Yeah yeah, the happiness of your loved ones and..." Ron interjected. Harry returned the favour by interrupting Ron. "Happiness is important, granted. However what I was going to point out was whether or not in failing to fulfil your duties today; you are willing to face an enraged Hermione, doubled teamed with a furious Ginny who, I feel I should remind you is the most accomplished castor of the Bat – Bogey hex I've ever seen. Not to mention, some-one whose temper has always petrified me far beyond that of Riddle himself"... Harry drifted off. Ron gulped and the colour drained from his face... "Mum".
Exactly twenty minutes later everyone was in place, and all the guests were seated in a marquee that had been erected yet again in the garden of The Burrow. Ron paced nervously around the entrance of the Marquee as the music began. He didn't think he would be able to put aside any of his annoyance and misgivings when all of a sudden he saw her. Ron Weasley was speechless, as he was approached by the most beautiful bride he had ever seen. Or for that matter, he conceded that anyone had ever seen. A tear gathered in this eye as he tried to speak "You are simply breath taking." Her cheeks blushed profusely as she grabbed his arm, which he held out towards her. "Stop it Dad! You're going to make my cry!"
As Rose, accompanied by Ron began to precede down the aisle a man, who up until seconds ago had been worried about the disasters that might occur could not help but forget his nerves. Though, they had never for one second been about her. He knew that she was the only one for him. The young groom searched for words to describe how she looked, as she made her way towards him, but the English language failed him. He was sure there was no word worthy of his Rose. Before he knew it they were at the altar, and a begrudging Ron had finally handed her over to him with a whisper only he could hear "Me and her Mum are two thirds of the Golden trio that brought down the darkest wizard of all time, it will serve you well to remember that". Ron was sure he could have threatened him some more but Hermione had violently yanked him down beside her with a "For Heaven's sake Ronald, leave them alone".
Kingsley Shacklebolt was conducting the ceremony, and stood smiling down upon the couple. He began by giving a short speech about love in general, but Ron was not listening. Rather he was exchanging sour looks with the father of the groom, which he would have gladly continued to do if Hermione hadn't caught him just as the ceremony begun. "I would like to welcome all those gathered here today, to the Wedding or Rose Molly Weasley and Scorpious Hyperion Malfoy".
Ron and Draco groaned.