Author's Note: Song - "Paradise (Peponi)" by The Piano Guys

Nothing went the way it was planned. The children were running and screaming like someone had transfigured them into little monsters. Neville was chasing them down the best he could, instigating squeals of glee in his prey.

Luna couldn't tell who was worse off, the bride having a melt down in the dressing room about everything being just so or the husband standing at the alter looking like his best man was the only thing keeping him upright. Ginny had gone to console Hermione the best she could, and Harry was slapping Ron's cheeks gently, attempting to drag him back to reality.

The sky had let loose in a slow drizzle, and Molly Weasley was on top of things.

"It's just a spot of rain," she reassured everyone with a smile, flicking her wand and conjuring a make-shift tent.

One of the younger kids let out a shriek of delight, losing control of his magic. He launched himself under the dinner table, bringing the plates and cutlery to life. They marched off the table and joined the chase around the yard. Bill and Percy had to combine forces just to right them all, leaving them to run awkwardly after the few dishes that refused to be wrangled.

George was entertaining the guests with goodies from his store—until a stray explosion lit Molly's newly-conjured tent on fire. Before Luna could warn him, he used aguamenti to put it out, soaking half the guests in the meantime. She couldn't help but giggle.

No, nothing had gone quite the way it was supposed to, but they were all together. Always. Through everything. It was perfection. It was paradise.