"Dean always just happens to be there at the worst times," Harry said with frustration. "First Fleur, then your brothers, and then the next day the the couch incident and then the kitchen…" he shook his head. "I'm not actually doing anything!" he burst out angrily.
"They say bad luck always comes in threes, mate," said Ron, nodding.
"Who says that?"
"I dunno, do I? They do."
"That's all in groups of twos anyways," said Harry.
"Well, twos, then. The principle holds."
"No, it really doesn't…"
They were sitting in Ron's room on Christmas morning, a pile of wrapping paper surrounding them. Harry was sporting his new Weasley sweater, emblazoned with a large, golden snitch. He had already carefully disposed of a box of maggots from Kreacher, although he was tempted to leave some in Dean's cot. However, he had desisted, and ranted to Ron instead. By some miracle, it seemed that Ginny was the only member of the Weasley family who had been in the house at the time of Harry and Dean's argument, for the rest of the family was gathering wrapping supplies and decorations from the barn. Harry didn't particularly feel the need to tell his best friend that he had shouted about being in love with his sister, so he stuck to enumerating the number of unfortunate situations that Dean had been witness to in the past couple of days. Luckily, Ron was a very good audience, as he was feeling irritated towards Dean as well for accusing Ginny of cheating.
"I mean, what's Dean playing at, blaming her? You're like family, he should know that" said Ron, helping himself to a chocolate frog.
"Dunno," said Harry, rather untruthfully, looking at the snow collecting on the windowpanes.
"Reckon we should go downstairs?" asked Ron, looking around at the pile of wrapping paper.
"Yeah, sure," agreed Harry, and together they traipsed down the staircase. Minutes later, sitting at the brunch table, Harry and Ron rather wished that they had elected to remain upstairs. Fleur was once again gushing about her wedding plans to anyone who would listen, or, as was more truthfully the case, anyone who would pretend to listen.
"And what do you think about zis, 'Arry?" she asked Harry, who, rather alarmed at being asked his opinion, especially seeing as he had not heard a word of her query, stuttered.
"Er…sounds brilliant," he said, hoping that this would suffice. She beamed at him and he smiled back awkwardly, still having no clue what he had just agreed to, and hoping that it would not come back to haunt him later. Seconds later, it did.
"Gabrielle will be so delighted!" Fleur cooed, sweeping back her long hair. Apparently, Harry had just agreed to escort Fleur's sister to the wedding. The others, sensing exactly what had happened, wasted no time whatsoever in giving Harry hell about it.
"Will she wear a green dress, Fleur? To match Harry's eyes?" Fred asked, grinning at Harry, who scowled.
"Ah, Fred!" exclaimed Fleur. "Zis is a wonderful idea! I 'ave been wondering what color to make ze bridesmaids dresses, for I 'ave already realized zat Ginny would look 'orrible in pink, but green will complement 'er 'air, and Gabrielle of course looks lovely in any color." She beamed at the twins. Fred and George smiled at her, and Harry saw them bump fists covertly. Now sincerely wishing that he had not thrown out the maggots, Harry stabbed moodily at his plate as Dean and Ginny entered the kitchen together and sat down. Fleur immediately turned to Ginny to tell her about this latest development in the bridesmaid dresses, much to Ginny's veiled irritation.
"—Because of course pink would look 'orrible with your 'air,"
"Oh, of course," said Ginny, smiling widely, but looking like she would quite like to punch Fleur. Fleur beamed even more widely.
"And since 'Arry 'as agreed to escort Gabrielle," she smiled at Harry; Ginny stiffened slightly, and Dean looked up. "Everything will be just perfect!" She clasped her hands happily and helped herself to a bit of toast.
"I bet it will!" said Dean, suddenly looking extremely cheerful. Several people looked at him in alarm.
"Gotten over that stomachache then, Dean?" asked George, perhaps a little icily. Harry realized that if Ron had heard Dean and Ginny's row from next door, Fred and George had certainly heard it from the same room. Dean coughed slightly and spent a good deal of time spreading jam evenly on his toast.
The rest of the day was fairly pleasant, and once again, by late afternoon, Harry realized how often he underestimated Mrs. Weasley's cooking abilities. The second feast was even better than the first, and Harry had to stop himself halfway through his third helping of treacle tart. He felt that the Dursleys would not be quite so accommodating if Harry got a letter from Madam Pomfrey stating that he no longer fit his robes as they had been on the occasion when Dudley had received the same letter from the Smeltings nurse. After another low-burst fireworks display, this time in festive hues of green and red, the group trundled off to bed, feeling very warm and sleepy despite the cold temperatures. Harry tried not to stare at the empty couch across from him, because somehow that felt even more depressingly like stalking than watching Ginny sleep. Ginny had moved back in with Dean, Fred, and George, leaving Harry in the living room with his inner monologue once more.
Well, you did ask Dean not to break up with her. Wish granted.
Yeah well, they shouldn't break up, she didn't do anything wrong.
Right.
But he's a jealous prat…
Also true.
Maybe she is dating him because he can draw well…
Don't start that again.
Well, what other good qualities does he have, really? He doesn't even trust her!
He's a good person.
…Who can draw well.
Brilliant. He can draw their wedding portrait and hang it beside you and Gabrielle's. Fleur'll be delighted.
Don't think that.
Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling again. He tried to stop thinking about the events of the past days, but failed miserably in his attempts. Why, he thought, why did she have to hear him. Now she thought that he had some mad sort of hero complex, and Dean was happier than ever. He massaged his closed eyelids with his hands and fell into an uneasy sleep.
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AN/ You guys are so awesome, and so quick at reviewing! I am glad that I'm able to crank this out so fast; I find it really easy to write for Harry, and it's so much fun! They'll be headed back to Hogwarts soon, so we'll be meeting Hermione and the Slug Club as well, just to add to the mayhem. Hooray!
