I own nothing you recognise.
Word count without A/N - 238
Written for the Achieve that Outstanding Challenge - Poor.
Nerves
"Are you excited?"
"Of course."
"You don't look excited."
"That's probably because I feel sick."
"Why?"
"Nervous."
"Why? Do you think she's going to leave you at the altar?"
"I do now. Cheers mate."
"Hermione would never do that."
"I know."
"So why are you nervous?"
"Because everyone should be nervous on their wedding day."
"I won't be."
"Sure, Harry. I'll believe that when I see it."
"You will see it. You're going to be my best man."
"I am? Cheers mate."
"You had any doubt?"
"Maybe a little. I mean, you haven't asked me."
"You didn't ask me either. I kind of thought it was a given."
"Guess so. Is it time yet?"
"Sure, we can go down now if you like. You ready?"
"To marry Hermione? More than anything."
"Then lets go. Oh, and Ron. If she doesn't turn up, don't cry in front of your brothers."
"Thanks, Harry. That made me feel so much better."
"Anytime mate."
"I really can't wait until your wedding day."
"Why?"
"So I can be as good a best man for you as you have for me."
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Why do I not feel comforted by that?"
"Hmm. No idea. Come on, I've got a bride to meet. You have the rings right?"
"Erm..."
"Harry?"
"I'm kidding. Of course I have the rings."
"You're a git."