disclimer u know how it goes, it's so obvious i didn't create them
still slow, i know. so's the next chap, but it'll improve

A wedding of a sort

Friday had arrived. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a wedding. Harry stood at the door, waiting for Hermione to arrive. Finally a car slid up outside the house and Harry gaped at the superb lines of the sleek Alfa Romeo. Two people emerged from it - a tall man in jeans and a tee shirt and a slim petite girl with a cloudy mane of brown hair.

"Hermione?" gasped Harry.

Hermione flung her arms around him in a sisterly hug. He took her by the shoulders and held her an arms distance away. She was short as she had always been and exquisitely slim. Her hair, hitherto frizzy had somehow been tamed so that it fell in a straight smooth cloud around her face. Her skin was glowing, her smile gorgeous and she was dressed muggle style in black Capri's and a white knit top.

She was surveying him with equal interest and seemed fully satisfied. "Harry, this is my father. Dad, this is Harry."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said Harry politely. Dr. Granger was as different from Hermione as possible. He was very tall, almost a head taller than Harry, light blonde, blue eyed and almost Scandinavian looking. He seemed to be very pleasant but a little reserved.

"Get in, won't you, Harry?" Harry got in while Dr. Granger stashed the entire luggage in the boot. Harry had never been in a car like this before and he wondered what the Dursley's would have said to this. His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione's constant nudging. He looked up and she slipped a parcel into his hand. Muttering his thanks gruffly, Harry opened the present to find a foe-glass.

"I reckoned you needed this after what had happened, so I picked it up at Jerusalem. Supposedly it's the only place you get them. I did mention the Mossad." She said sympathetically. "How are you holding up?"

Harry's green eyes clouded over. Even now he had nightmares about Cedrics death, about Voldemorts resurrection. He still felt bitterly guilty about everything that had happened, although everyone who knew had assured him that it wasn't his fault. He was afraid that when he went back to Hogwarts, he might be treated as an outcast. However he couldn't say all this even to Hermione, so he just kept quiet.

Hermione noticed the shadows in his eyes and changed the topic, rattling on about a lot of the gossip of the Wizarding world. She said something about being made prefect, when Harry jumped up.

"Oh god, I never got my letter. My Hogwarts letter. Now what?"

"Don't worry," said Hermione. "It's probably waiting at Ron's place and here we are." The car was drawing up at the Burrow.

Hermione said goodbye to her father and the car drove off as Harry and Hermione looked at the small house that they both thought of as home. And there was Ron running to meet them, followed closely by Fred and George. "You're just in time," grinned Ron after the initial greeting. "Fleur wants Herm to be one of her bridesmaid along with Ginny and her sister Gabrielle. Go on Herm, the women await you."

"Me?" squealed Hermione. "That is so sweet of her. I'll go right now." With that she ran off.

Harry looked at his best friend. Finally he could look at Ron without having to crane his head. Ron was still at least 3 inches taller, though not as well knit as Harry. His flaming hair was cropped close and his freckles were as numerous as ever. His dark blue eyes seemed even darker and his smile broader than ever. Fred and George were unchanged, still stocky and well built with the trademark hair and the mischievous eyes. They went off inside talking a nineteen to a dozen.

"So which one of you five has Percy chosen as best man?" asked Harry suddenly and was answered with an impudent grin.

"Well," replied George, "Believe it or not, our brother Percy the Just has decided that it requires an impartial decision so he has managed to make an instrument similar to the Goblet of Fire, though of course on a smaller scale. The names are going to be fed in and the person judged to make the best 'best man' wins. So our names, Oliver's name (Oliver Wood you idiot, he and Percy are pals) and your name have been put in."

"Oh no" groaned Harry, "Not me. I would feel an utter fool."

"As would we. As would we."

While this conversation was taking place, Hermione was with Fleur, Ginny, Gabrielle and Mrs. Weasely being fitted for the bridesmaid dresses which were to be robes of aquamarine chiffon, a color which suited all three of them. Fleur was in silver gray silk which suited her fair colouring admirably.

The evening went off in ribald camaraderie. Everybody pulled Percy's leg mercilessly and were scolded for their pains. Finally exhausted everybody went to bed. Sleeping in Ron's room, Harry suddenly woke up shaking, his frame wracked with pain. He had just had a nightmare, but not like any of the others. It was something to do with a prophecy but exactly what he could not remember to save his life. He thought a while and then went off to sleep. When he woke up in the morning, he remembered nothing off it.

The house was in utter chaos that day. Mrs. Weasely was running around like a worried hen trying to get everything in order, Mr. Weasely was busy checking all the arrangements; Percy and Fleur were throwing fits because they weren't ready and Fred and George were up to their usual capers. Harry yanked on his bottle green robes only to find that they didn't fit.

"What do I do now?" he asked Ron, who was busy preening himself in his new navy blue robes.

Ron looked at him and sniggered. "You'll set a new trend, calf length robes." Then on a more serious note, he added, "Ask Bill, he's a genius with stuff like this."

Harry obediently went off to ask Bill and Ron returned to surveying his newfound elegance. Bill also fell into helpless peals of laughter on seeing Harry, but consented to help and put a lengthening spell on it. "But this is only temporary and only lasts 24 hours," he warned Harry. "I would advice you to buy some new ones from Diagon Alley when you go there next."

Looking and feeling considerably better, Harry entered the chapel. It was time for the choice of best man. Percy stood on ceremony and everybody else equally solemnly gathered around. The tiny cup glowed once and spat out a piece of paper. Percy picked it up and read out loudly, "My best man - Ron Weasely and Harry Potter." The church burst out in applause.

There is so much I could write about the wedding but it would require a worthier pen than mine to do justice to it. Let me just say that there was a beautiful bride, an, erm, less beautiful groom, a lot of crying and a lot of Filibuster firecrackers.

Once the wedding was over and the happy couple was getting ready to leave for their honeymoon, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He snapped around and found himself, gazing into a pair of tired blue eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore," he gasped happily. "I didn't know you were here. How is everything? How is Snuffles?"

"Snuffles is fine, but I can't say the same of everything else. I need to talk to you when you reach Hogwarts, you and Miss Granger. Would both of you come straight to me? You will? Then I'll see you there. I hope you are well, Mr. Potter. No untoward pains or dreams?"

"None at all, Professor. I'll see you at Hogwarts."