A/N: I do not own any Harry Potter Characters. There are spoilers from pretty much every book here, so don't read if you haven't finished the entire series, well, read, but be prepared. This is also very light and fluffy.
Butterfly Kisses
I looked at my daughter proudly, "Are you ready, Ginny?" I asked.
"Dad, I'm nervous," the redhead replied, "But I'm ready." She smoothed her white satin skirt and took my arm. I smiled encouragingly at her, and led her down the aisle. As I handed her to Harry, my eyes prickled with tears for just a second.
I love my children, all of them, very much. Ginerva Molly Weasley is particularly special case though, the first daughter in a long line of Weasley sons, with a spirit that's as fiery as the hair on
top of her head.
When it came time for the father daughter dance, I took Ginny's hand, and led her to the dance floor. As we began to move in slow circles, she said, "I hope you like the song, I picked." I kissed the top of her head and assured her that I would.
There's two things I know for sure:
She was sent here from heaven and she's
daddy's little girl.
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night
She talks to Jesus and I close my eyes and
I thank god for all the joy in my life
I smiled at the song, and spun her around, secretly delighted when my daughter's laugh began echoing around the room. I silently thanked the powers that be for my beautiful little girl. I drift
into my memories of her and me after that.
Oh, but most of all
for butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer;
sticking little white flowers all up in her
hair;
I watched Ginny and Ron playing in the garden, glad to see that Ron was not leaving her out. He chased her, and six-year-old Ginny squealed with delight as she jumped into a tree (higher than she should've been able to, no doubt aided by magic). "Oh look!" she exclaimed pointing to the white flowers that were blossoming in the trees, gleefully she pulled on off, and tucked it behind her ear, her long red hair whipping behind her as a gust of blind blew.
Ron grinned at her, and climbed up the tree, "Tag! You're it!" before he leaped down, landing softly, again aided by magic.
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"Walk beside the pony, Daddy, it's my first ride."
"Ginny, you'll be fine." I said and continued to coax her, until she was settled behind me on the broom. "Hold on tight," I cautioned, and with that I pushed off the ground, into the air. Ginny's arms tightened around my waist, and I heard the most amazing sound in the world, the five-year-old's giggle.
"I love flying Daddy!" she screeched, from behind him. "I want to try by myself next time!"
The following flying lessons had been both joyful and fearful for Arthur. He loved that his daughter had inherited his love of Quidditch, as well as all of his sons, and while Ginny was an excellent flier, especially for her age, it never failed to be a nerve-wracking experience, watching your child on a broom.
"I know the cake looks funny, Daddy, but I sure tried."
In all that I've done wrong I know I must
have done something right to deserve a hug
every morning and butterfly kisses at night.
I had been dozing in a chair, after a long day of work and supper, when suddenly a small voice whispered in my ear, "Happy Birthday, Daddy." My ten-year-old, daughter said, "I baked you a cake."
I automatically glanced at the calendar, for I was sure it was not my birthday until the next day, and then I glanced at my watch. 12:01am, February sixth, I had been asleep for hours. "Thank you sweetheart, but, you're up much too late."
"At least come and see the cake Dad," she begged, "I made it all by myself, well, almost, Mum helped with the oven." She tugged on my hand and I followed her into the kitchen.
A small, chocolate, slightly broken cake sat in the middle of the kitchen table. Molly was making tea, and I decided that it was just the right time for a piece of cake and a cup of tea. I sat down, and Ginny pulled her chair beside mine, kneeling on it, she kissed me and said again, "Happy Birthday Daddy."I hugged her tightly.
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Sweet 16 today
She's looking like her mama a little more everyday
August 11th, 1997, I can't believe my little girl is sixteen already. The entire Weasley family, sans Percy, is gathered in the backyard, after a large birthday supper. Ginny is standing near a tree, excused from the cleaning up, because it is her birthday, and as I looked at her, I really see how grown up she is.
She looks more and more like Molly, as each day passes. She has her mother's hair, though the colour of our hair is the same, my hair is straight, and both Ginny and Molly have a slight curl to their hair, especially near the ends. Ginny's hair is now down to her waist, the same length Molly's hair was at her age. She had grown a lot in the past two years, no where near as tall as Ron, but close to Fred & George's height, and very slender.
One part woman, the other part girl.
To perfume and make-up from ribbons and curls
Trying her wings out in a great big world.
Yet, I can still see the child hood gleam in her eyes. The mischief and spirit that I hope that she'll never lose, and as I look deeper I can see the worry in her eyes, for her friends, and for her brother. Harry, Ron and Hermione, her role models, though they may not know it, and she knew they were up to something. She was managing her emotions, but underneath it all, I could see the same scared little girl, who had flung herself into my arms, at the end of her first year, crying about the Chamber of Secrets.
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But I remember
Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer; sticking
little white flowers all up in her hair.
"You know how much I love you, Daddy, But if you
don't mind I'm only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time."
We stood on the platform of nine and ¾ a little awkwardly; because Ron should be with us, heading off to his seventh year, and none of us are quite sure where he is. Ginny looks at me, as the Hogwarts Express pulls up, "Dad, I'm going to miss you," And she stands and kisses my cheek, instead of the usual giant hug and butterfly kiss, "I love you," and she ran to the compartment, turning back only once to wave at me.
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With all that I've done wrong I must have done
something right to deserve her love every morning
and butterfly kisses at night.
All the precious time
Like the wind, the years go by.
Precious butterfly.
Spread your wings and fly.
Christmas during Ginny's sixth year, and Ginny is at home, though the house seems a little empty. After all, Percy is still ignoring us, Bill and Fleur decided to spend their first Christmas together at their house (much to Molly's disappointment and disapproval), Charlie in Romania, and Ron missing.
Fred, George, Ginny, Molly and I, eat an unusually quiet meal, with much left over, and retire to the sitting room, where Molly turns on the radio, and starts to clean up. Fred and George start a game of wizard chess, and I read the Daily Prophet, before Ginny comes up to me and said, "Dad, can I talk to you?"
"Yes, of course," I replied, setting the newspaper aside, and gazing at my growing daughter.
"Dad, I thinks there is going to be a fight at Hogwarts, again this year," Ginny tells me seriously.
I shudder at the thought, but agree with her prediction, and tell her so.
"If there is a fight, I'm going to fight. I'm not going to be left behind again, not while the rest of my family is fighting."
Later that year, when there was a fight, and Ginny was told to stay in the Room of Requirement, I knew she would not. So, when she caught my eye as I left to fight, I nodded, giving her my silent permission, she was no longer a child, she would be of age in less then 2 months, and she would fight anyway, as all her friends and family were. I could hardly believe this was the little girl who had come home crying, at ten-years-old, because there was no one left to play with.
She'll change her name today.
She'll make a promise and I'll give her away.
Standing in the bride-room just staring at her.
I knew Harry would propose, and I knew Ginny would accept. The pair was meant to be together. I stood behind her, as she fussed with her hair in the mirror, trying to get it to look just right. I stared at the reflection of the beautiful woman, and remembered holding a tiny pink-wrapped bundle of baby girl, years and years ago.
She asked me what I'm thinking and I said "I'm not
sure-I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl."
"Why are you so quiet, Dad?" she asked, as she sighs contentedly.
"You're getting married, Gin," I said, "It's a big step, a step in the right direction, but I feel like I'm losing my little girl."
She leaned over...gave me butterfly kisses with her mama there,
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
Ginny stood, turned to face me, and said, "I'll always be your little girl." She hugged me, and gave the custom butterfly kisses, as her mother watched from nearby. I smiled brightly, and pulled out a package, that I had been keeping hidden for quite some time.
"Here, this is for your hair," I told her, and she opened the package carefully, to find a white flower. I took the flower from her hands, and tucked it behind her ear, carefully smoothing back a curl.
"Walk my down the aisle, Daddy-it's just about time."
"Does my wedding gown look pretty, Daddy? Daddy, don't cry!"
Molly cleared her throat, "It's almost time you too, I'm going to nip into my seat," she kissed Ginny and I both then left the room. "Dad, I'm getting married soon!" Ginny squealed excitedly. "How do I look?" she asked spinning around slowly.
"Ginerva Molly Weasley, you look beautiful." I said, my voice cracking, "I've very proud of you and I love you very much."
"Oh, Dad, please don't cry!" she exclaimed tears shining in her eyes as well, "I love you too, and she did fling herself into my arms, like the ten-year-old she had been.
Oh, with all that I've done wrong I must have
done something right.
To deserve your love every morning and butterfly
kisses-I couldn't ask God for more, man this is what love is.
I know I gotta let her go, but I'll always remember
every hug in the morning and butterfly kisses.
As the song wound down to an end, I gently handed her back to Harry. I was physically and emotionally letting go, though I would never forget any of the times I shared with her. I would always remember every word, every sound, every action, every hug, every morning, every kiss, and every night.
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A/N: I also do not own the song Buttefly Kisses. Hope you liked it! R&R!