Disclaimer: Anyone you recognise is not mine. They belong to the genius of JK Rowling, and I make no profit.

The Song is "The Rose" and I wish I owned that too, but I don't.

Enjoy!

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Some say love, it is a river,
That drowns the tender reed,
Some say love it, is a razor,
That leaves your soul to bleed,

I curl my fingers around the veil. Am I doing the right thing? I almost slap myself for having those doubts. And I'm sure Oliver would too. Angelina runs in, all of a sudden, and Alicia follows.

"You look beautiful," They all coo around me, as Leanne and Hermione, Ginny and Demelza perch on the seats around the room, six of them, my best friends, my bridesmaids. Angelina can't stop playing with my hair, she says it's not enough, that a simple up-do is nowhere near what it should be, I'm too beautiful to waste it, I'm this, and that and everyone agrees.

"I want it like this. Oliver likes it like… Just leave it!" I yell, and Angelina looks really taken aback, but then throws her arms around me.

"You're worse than I was!" She grins and lifts me from my feet for all of a second. "I didn't think there would ever be anyone worse than I was!"

"I aim to please." I murmur as I pick up my bouquet. "How do I look?"


Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless, aching need,
I say love, it is a flower,
And you it's only seed.

I stand, alone for the first time all day. I'm so desperate to rub my hand through my hair and get rid of every trace of gel in it. The windswept look should be kept for the Quidditch pitch, and the Quidditch pitch only.

I let out an unnaturally high giggle as George Weasley strides in, his hair swept back like mine. I'll feel a little hollow without Fred here too, but Robin Twycross and Evan Pairpoint will have to do. Potter is here too. And Ron.

"What you laughing at, Wood?" He grins evilly, "This is your last half hour of freedom,"

"Can't we get it over with?" I manage to squeak. "What is happening to me?"

"You, my good friend, are getting married. And you can't back out now."

Why did I agree to this? Tell me, please.

"I've not even seen her dress." I murmur hopelessly. "Help."

"Ange says it's lovely. Breathtaking and that." Potter comes in, laughing with Weasley the Younger.

"What's breathtaking?" Pairpoint grins as he apparates behind me. I jump out of my skin. Potter's predecessor was always good at sneaking up on people. "Your fiancée is terrified, by the way."

"Oh, good. She's not gonna do a runner, is she?" I say, panic creeping into my core. This is worse than a Quidditch final.

"He wants to get there first." George jumps in before me. The room laughs, completely relaxed. Why do I love these guys so much? Somebody tell me.


It's the heart afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance,
It's the dream afraid of waking,
That never takes the chance,

Ange watches me nervously as I sip the bottle of water that lies on the table.

"You're terrified, aren't you?" She says.

"Yes." I say honestly. "But I know it will be worth it." She looks like she's going to cry. "Don't you start!" I smile, but feel the tears pricking at my eyes too. "Or you'll get me going, and you'll have to do my make up all ov-ove-over again." I stutter.

"I'm not." She whispers, but then she leans forward and hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Fred always said…" A pause, "He always said the Quidditch team belonged together. Always."

"Well, we've basically made it happen," I grin, "Pity he isn't here." I whisper, "He'd've loved to play a prank on me and Oliver."

"Don't worry. George has a brilliant -" She grins widely and stops herself, "Now I've set the bar."

"It's OK. I'll just…" I grin, "Disown him."

And suddenly I can't stop grinning as I look in the mirror. It's nearly that moment, nearly the time to get married. To Oliver Wood. A month my senior. My Quidditch captain. My secret lover all through school.

George Weasley knocks on the door and Angelina opens it.

"Ready for your fate, Ms Bell?" He says, "Or should I call you Mrs Wood?"

"Just lead me down the aisle, Godbrother."

"Yes Maam."


It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dying,
That never learns to live.

It's weird, now I'm standing at the front of the church, all eyes on me, no bride to distract them as yet, and all I can think about is me proposing to her. Watching her smile as we lay together under the oak tree by the lake, after the battle for Hogwarts, trying to get away from the pain and suffering in the castle. She was hurt, to be honest, she had a bleeding cut above one eyebrow, hex marks on both arms and a twitching elbow. But she was healing me, not herself.

"Katie, will you…" I breathe out as my hair whirls where she runs her fingers through it to see if there are any more hex-marks there.

"Yes, Ol'?" She looks up and pulls away, before tilting my head left and fixing a burn on my neck. I gently take her hands so I can look her in the eye.

"Will you marry me?" It was hardly perfect, I didn't have a ring, or anything. Until I looked at my hand. My silver ring, it was a present for getting into the Puddlemere first VII. I slip it off and slide it onto her finger.

"Yeah, Oliver, yes, I will." I tap the ring and it reduces in size to a perfect fit on her finger.

Pairpoint looks at me like I'm crazy as the doors open but I don't turn to look at her. The music starts and I'm jolted back to the present.

My god, she looks beautiful. George was right, her dress is breathtaking.


When the night has been too lonely,
And the road has been too long.
And you think that love is only,
For the lucky and the strong.

I choke as Angelina and Alicia open the doors for me, George hooks his arm through mine and I see Oliver for the first time today. He looks at me and smiles. I barely smile back, feeling the humiliation creep into my face. I hate being the centre of attention.

George gently tugs on my arm and I start to walk down the aisle. The dress shimmers as I step forward, glittering against the sunlight streaming into the hall. This isn't a muggle wedding, nor a magical wedding. It's a mixture.

I'm a mixture. We're a mixture.

Oliver touches my hand as we meet at the front of the hall. I feel sick. I feel nervous. I look into his eyes. I am home.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered to celebrate the magical union of both Katie Bell and Oliver Wood." And the words fade into the background. The colours and pictures of people and everything fades into black.


Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love,
In the spring, becomes the rose.

"Katie…" I whisper into her ear, "Kates, darling wake up… Katie!" I rub her hand between my fingers, "Katie!" And she blinks her eyes open.

"What-uh…" She groans, "Oh, my head." her hand flies to her head, "Oh…Oliver, are we married yet?" She grins and her face crumples into that of pure pain.

"Katie, don't try and sit up. You hit your head." I pause, "And no, we're not married." She looks like she's going to cry. "But you've only been out a couple of minutes. There's still time."

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A/N - Ooh! Another SongFic. I'm so sorry… I should really get my act together, shouldn't I? I'm listening to far too much music at the moment.

Hope you enjoyed

Please R&R, I never get fun, relevant emails!