A/N: Same disclaimer as previous chapter. By the way all the clothes, shoes, etc. with designer names that you have never heard of I made up. They are supposed to be wizarding designers!

"C'est magnifique, n'est-ce pas? Mione found them in . . . euh . . . Flourish et Blotts," Fleur Delacour chirped in French and choppy English while showing Molly Weasley her wedding invitations. Her bright blue eyes shone with excitement as Molly took the invitation. "Zhey are my favorite color!"

"They're beautiful, Fleur. They're just so . . . so you!" Molly pressed her lips into a false smile. "So you" was an understatement. The custom Flourish and Blotts wedding invitations literally screamed Fleur Delacour. "They're awfully pink though, dearie. Are you sure that's what you want?" Mrs. Weasley herself wasn't a huge fan of pink. It clashed with her vibrant red hair.

"Very much zo, Mrs. Weasley! Zhey are exactly vhat I vant!"

It must have taken Fleur forever to pick out her insane invitations. The entire card was bordered with pink braid, and it flashed Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour in pink sparkles along with pink wedding cakes, rings, confetti, and, every once in a while, a picture of the happy couple. The photograph was black and white except for Bill's tie and Fleur's hat, which were pink. Of course.

Before Mrs. Weasley could say anything more, Hermione whisked Fleur into the kitchen and began talking about the wedding cake from Forchesteur's Bakery.

"Harry and Ginny will be home soon. The three of us can go to Forchesteur's and make the final decisions on the decorations. You still have to decide on icing design and color and the cake topper."

Hermione had over-organized Fleur's wedding down to the last detail. In her new planner, she had the next week's events scheduled to the millisecond. She tugged on her Morgan La Fay tweed skirt (a birthday gift from Harry, with a little help from Ginny) while waiting for Fleur's response. She crossed her fingers in hope that Fleur would not mention Mrs. Weasley's reaction to the invitations.

"Oui, and we should take ze sample to Bill. He loves cake. Oh, and ze boys will get their fittings today. I must still decide on ties and ze pocket squares. And tomorrow ve vill go look at ze bridesmaids dresses." Fleur ran her hand through her bleached-blonde hair and played with her massive Talist engagement ring.

Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had been preparing for Fleur and Bill's wedding all summer. Choosing table settings and selecting a location was more difficult that conjuring a Patronus. The three were finally getting along with Fleur, now that they had gotten past her obnoxiously bad English and constant need to help people. Her bad taste in some things, such as invitations, never seemed to faze them.

"Vhere are Harry and Ginny? Are zhey together? He is a nice boy vhen he vants to be."

"Yes and no," Hermione pulled a teakettle out of the cupboard to avoid talking about Harry and Ginny's confusing and unofficial relationship. Both of them had tried to move on after ending things for Ginny's safety, but the two had become closer than ever when Harry unexpectedly showed up at the Burrow mid-June after his uncle's heart attack.

Even more confusing and aggravating was Ron and Hermione's relationship status. Hermione had walked in on Ron making out with some local blonde bimbo. He had known for weks that Hermione was going to visit him, but he didn't apologize--she had been even more pissed off than when he had gone out with Lavender Brown last school year. Fleur and Ginny had been very supportive of Hermione, and the three of them spent weeks giving Ron the cold shoulder, sipping iced coffee, and buying gorgeous clothes by Merlina and Witchery in Diagon Alley. Suddenly, Hermione's thoughts were interrupted.

"Harry, make up your bloody mind!" Ginny yanked open her home's front door and raced into the kitchen with Harry trailing her. Harry tugged on his hair in aggravation and shoved his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose.

Her mione glanced at Fleur before taking a peek at the door. "They're back."

"Yesterday you were all ready to pack your bags and leave for school. Now you're not sure! Stop changing your bloody mind!" Ginny yelled at Harry. She slammed her pewter-and-navy-blue Viridiahn purse on the kitchen table, then grabbed her light taupe Emeric Kostav flip flops and chucked them at her boyfriend. He ducked a little too late, and both shoes hit him square in the head. Ginny wasn't on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for nothing. "You're lucky those weren't heels, Potter!"

"Ginny, can we talk?"

"Go ahead, Harry, talk away!" Ginny banged a few cabinets open and brought out a shot glass and an open bottle of Gray Goshawk's Firewhiskey. The Weasleys' lives had greatly improved since an ancient and very distant relative died and left them several hundred thousand Galleons.

"Gin, that's not too good for you. Take it easy on the whiskey."

"Too bad." Ginny downed multiple shots in a matter of seconds.

"I told you, Gin, we're talking about school tonight."

"You know, Harry, you can make your own decisions."

"Yeah, but the wizarding world needs me, and I need peoples' input."

"Harry, you saved the world multiple times in school. Why can't you do it again?"

"Bloody hell, Gin! Why can't you understand?" Harry exploded.

"I'm not sure, Harry, but I know . . ."

"I love you, Ginny, I really do."

"Try telling me that when I'm not mad at you for once!" Ginny whacked her empty shot glass onto the kitchen counter, grabbed her flip flops and purse, jogged up the stairs, and slammed her bedroom door shut.

"'Arry, I think you should go try on your suit for ze wedding. Tell Bill ve vill stop by later, oui?" Fleur instructed. Harry quickly Apparated before Hermione could lecture him about Ginny, and Fleur continued. "Sacre bleu! How dra-ma-tic! Mione, go get Ginny. Ve vill talk to her on ze vay there."

"Gin, are you okay?" Hermione twirled a strand of her curly hair between her fingers. It wasn't every day that Ginny came home raving mad at Harry.

"I give up on him, Mione! Why did we even get back together?" Ginny rifled through a pile of clothes Fleur had bought for her. "He's impossible!"

"I'm going to sound like a terrible friend, but we've got to get going to Forchesteur's," Hermione fiddled with her silver-and-emerald square-cut Cassandra Triggs pendant. "We'll talk when we get there, okay? He'll come around and realize how crazy he was, treating you like that."

"Yeah. Just help me pick out something to wear."

Clothes had always been a favorite pasttime of Ginny's, and being the only girl in a family with seven kids had it's perks. Moments later, she strutted down the stairs in Stevey Madman wedge heels and an emerald green Arriman Q. sundress. Before leaving the Burrow, she attempted to take another shot of Gray Goshawk's.

"No! You're flagged, Gin. I don't want you to throw up on my Clyo Dena cardigan."

Ginny wasn't known for throwing up all over people. But hey, you never know what will happen when you're hanging out with someone who can't hold his or her liquor. Miss Granger, for example.