The Burrow had always been, since Harry could remember, hectic and stress-filled, and today was no exception. It was the day of Luna and Ron's wedding, and they were all concerned that if Mrs. Weasley didn't calm down, she'd have an embolism.

"Where are the cream puffs, Ronald?" she screeched at the groom, and he raised his hands in defense.

"I didn't do anything with them," Ron said, backing away. "Maybe Fred and George—"

"Someone call our names?" Fred called, approaching the kitchen. George was right behind him.

"Because I'm pretty sure that talking behind other people's backs isn't polite, right Mum?" his twin added, putting a scrawny hand on his mother's shoulder.

"Get. Out!" she shrieked, her face turning red. Everyone ran out of the kitchen in alarm, Ron nearly hitting his head on the door frame on his way. They all gathered in the hallway in front of the stairs.

"What's wrong with her?" he grumbled, and Hermione glared at him.

"She's been trying to organize this whole thing herself, no thanks to you."

Ron shrugged. "Well, it's not like I can do anything. Every time I come near her, she starts screaming about pastries!"

Hermione shook her head. "Still, you could at least try to do something. Harry and I spent the whole morning setting up chairs."

Harry nodded his head in agreement, although he remembered it slightly differently; Hermione had charmed everything into place in a about less than ten minutes, and Harry had read an old copy of 'Which Broomstick?' while he waited for her to finish.

Ron sighed. "Fine, Hermione. I'll do something and get my head cut off by my own mum because of it," he said, skulking off.

Hermione turned to Harry, grinning for a job well done. "Do you know where Luna is?" she asked, probably planning to get her to work as well.

Fred cut in. "She's out checking the garden for Nargles. Said they might try to destroy the wedding cake."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nargles, honestly," she mumbled as she walked away.

George pulled his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Ay, Harry. Can we divulge a little secret of ours to you?"

"I'm not sure, George," Fred said. "Can we really trust him?"

"Of course we can!" George cheered. "Right, Harry?"

"Oh, yeah…I guess. What are you two talking about?" Harry asked, obviously confused.

"Well, Harry. It's a secret that's been passed down through the Weasley's for generations, but we figured we could tell it to you."

"Yep," Fred agreed, "you're like family. And family helps family, right Harry?"

"Oh, well, of course," Harry answered.

"Like when you helped us start Weasley Wizarding Wheezes!"

"Exactly," George agreed.

Fred grinned. "I suppose we should tell him, then? No use dragging this out longer than it should be. It's a big day, after all."

"The biggest," George nodded.

"And speaking of weddings, that happens to be what the secret is about! Isn't that a coincidence to end all coincidences?"

"It is," George grinned.

"You know, Harry. We've been noticing you're a little down on your luck in the love department."

Harry's eyes widened involuntarily. "Um, what?" he choked.

"Mum's starting to worry about you. She's constantly complaining, 'He's twenty-seven years old, and he still hasn't had a girlfriend since Ginny! And that was ten years ago!'" Fred mimicked in a high falsetto.

"Of course, Fred, she does worry about everything," George pointed out.

"Right, she does," Fred agreed. "But Harry, honestly, you know when girls are at their most emotional state?"

"Let me guess," Harry sighed. "Weddings?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Fred, get this boy a prize!"

Fred laughed. "And it's also the highest chance they'll say yes to a dance."

"That's great," Harry muttered.

"I mean, really," George said, "you have so many chances to get a girl to like you at these things! First, there's the 'letting her cry on your shoulder during the ceremony'."

"Right," Fred interrupted, "and the whole 'Would you like to be my partner for this dance?'"

"And of course, the 'Oh, look! A strategically placed bottle of Butterbeer! Want a taste?'"

"They're all winners, Harry," Fred said, patting him on the head. "And I'm pretty sure Hermione would go for them."

"Hermione?" Harry practically yelled, jumping away from the twins. "Why would I…what?"

"Oh come on, Harry. We all know you fancy each other," Fred rolled his eyes.

"It's really quite pathetic, you never getting the nerve up to ask her out," George shook his head disapprovingly.

Harry tried to speak, but the only thing that would come out was blubbering noises. "Uh, wha-, huh…I—what?"

"Look, Fred, he's speechless!"

"Speechless in love!"

Harry glared at them, and the twins doubled over laughing. He opened the front door and pushed his way through the crowd of Ron and Luna's relatives to get to the garden. Pushing stray branches and bushes aside, he walked along the path to what Ron called the 'gnome-dumping zone'. He had forgotten that Luna was there.

"Come little Nargles," she said in her spacey voice, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll just put you in a little jar until the ceremony is over!"

Harry cleared his throat and Luna spun around.

"Oh, hello Harry," she said, and set the jar in her hands down onto a nearby table.

"Hi, Luna," he said, and walked over to her. "So, are you nervous at all?"

Luna shook her head. "Oh, no. Nargles never bite humans if they have the scent of lemons on them."

Harry smiled. "I meant about the wedding."

"Oh!" Luna cried. "No, not at all. I'm rather excited."

"That's good. So…are you going to get dressed? I think the wedding starts soon."

"What?" Luna looked at him quizzically. "I'm all ready! Don't you like my dress?" she said, twirling around, which caused the dress that highly resembled an altered burlap sack to form an 'O'.

"Um, yes, it's lovely," Harry murmured, trying to fight his laughter.

Luna grinned. "Thanks. I spent such a long time making it…Ginny snickered when she saw it, though…"

"I wouldn't worry too much about her," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. She returned it and gave him a bone-crushing hug, which he usually only received from Hermione.

"Oh, Harry, Ron and I are so happy you could make it! We were worried the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in your basement would give you too much trouble…"

Harry's smile faltered at this a bit, but reappeared soon enough. "Yes, well, I called an exterminator, so it should be okay."

Luna must have missed his joke, because she still looked concerned. "Oh, exterminators hardly know how to take care of them. You know, Ron and I should come over and take a look. He's really very good at catching Lobalugs."

"I'm sure he is," Harry said. "Luna…if you don't mind me asking, what do you think of Hermione?"

"Hermione," Luna repeated. "She's very…smart. And nice, although sometimes she gets rather short with me. And she really needs to open her mind about other creatures living—"

Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed over the house, almost unnaturally so. "Everybody to the gardens! You must be seated in the next five minutes or you aren't in the wedding!"

"Uh, I guess I should go." Harry said goodbye to Luna, and headed towards the seats that Hermione had set up that morning.

After he had made his way through the hordes of people pushing for a seat, he found Fred and George, shooing people away from a small row of seats.

"Ay, Harry!" Fred called when he spotted the black haired adult. "Saved you a seat!"

Harry smiled in appreciation and walked over towards them. "Thanks, I—" he started, but his breath caught in his throat when he saw that the seat they had saved him was directly beside Hermione's.

"Hi, Harry," she said. "Hurry, sit down. The wedding's about to start!"

Fred and George smiled at him. "Yes, Harry. Go ahead and sit down with Miss Granger."

Harry felt like punching and hugging them at the same time. He didn't know why exactly; shouldn't he be upset that they're trying to set him up with her? Why can't a woman and a man just be friends and that's that? Why does everyone assume that they secretly love each other?

Instead of asking them this and behaving like a complete ass, he sat down next to her. She smiled at him, and he returned it. Fred and George, who had sat behind him, started kicking his chair.

That's how it was through the whole ceremony; when Hermione started crying and going on and on about how beautiful everything was, Fred and George kicked his chair. When Hermione began bawling so loudly that Mrs. Weasley turned around in her seat and glared holes into her head, Fred and George kicked his chair. Harry spun around and shot them a look saying 'cut it out', but George just put his arm around Fred's shoulder and handed him a tissue, obviously pretending to be Harry. Fred started to mime Hermione frantically crying, and they started laughing uncontrollably, causing Mrs. Weasley to stop the ceremony to yell at them.

After it was over, everyone hurried over to the tables to fill their empty stomachs. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and they sat down in their labeled seats. Fred and George, who had asked Seamus and Dean to switch with them, sat next to Harry.

"What are you two doing here?" Hermione asked, drinking from her glass.

"We asked Ron's little friends if we could trade places with them; Ron put us next to Aunt Mildred."

"She's rather unpleasant. Always trying to set people up; very irritating, don't you agree, George?"

"Oh, most definitely. I mean, you try to tell her you're not interested, and she just won't leave you alone."

Harry let out a loud sigh and Fred grinned. "What's the matter, Harry? Is the chicken too rubbery?"

"Hermione, would you like to dance with me?"

Harry's sudden outburst seemed to surprise everyone at the small table, including him.

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "But there's no music."

"So? Who says you need music?"

Neville shook his head. "Isn't that the whole concept?"

"No!" Harry huffed, and then said, more gently this time, "I mean, you don't necessarily—"

Hermione clutched Harry's hand eagerly and they made their way to the center of the wooden dance floor that Charlie had charmed in. Of course, a few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley forced them off the stage, raving about how the first dance was meant for Ron and Luna.

Years later, when Harry told the story to his grandchildren, Hermione insisted he only asked her to dance to get away from Fred and George, but Harry likes to think that it was because of the troublesome twins that they got together in the first place.