A/N: I took off and re-uploaded this chapter, because there was a major mistake in there in H and G's discussion about the ring.

Chapter 18

For whom the wedding bell tolls

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"Yeah."

"No, you aren't." Ginny sat up, glimpsing at the lighted dial of the clock on her bedside table. "It's three in the morning."

"I really needed to know that." Harry sighed, rolling onto his back. "Why are you still awake, Gin?"

"Because I knew that you couldn't sleep." she replied, propping herself on her elbow, gazing at the silver stripes the moon painted on the bedcover. "I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep after… after what Dudley said."

"Do we have to talk about this at three a.m.?" Harry said irritably.

"If neither of us is sleeping, then why not?" she asked.

"And what exactly do you want me to talk about? My family being a bunch of squibs? My miserable bloodline that is susceptible to produce non-magic kids?" he growled, turning his back on her.

"No." she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "I wanted to tell you that I didn't care about the Evans genetics."

"But I do!" he sat up, his back still turned on her. "I… I do."

She knelt up, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Don't. This is not your fault. There is nothing you can do about it."

"But I simply… cannot accept it, Ginny!" he turned around to face her. "I can't accept that I cannot do anything! My family… my blood… my non-magic children…" he shook his head. "Why is life so unfair?"

"It is not unfair, darling." she propped her head against his shoulder.

"Not unfair? Then what?" he sighed.

"Life… is just life. It has ups and downs, luck and disasters, happiness and grief… but after every storm the clouds are blown away and the sun shines again."

"What if the storm never ends?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"Maybe you should ask Professor Trelawney about that." she said, and Harry would have sworn that she was smiling, though he couldn't see her face in the darkness.

"Is she still doing the weather-forecast column?" he asked.

"Yes. And she predicted a blizzard for tonight. But look out." she pointed at the window. "Look at the moon-light. It's brighter than ever." she entwined her fingers with his, snuggling her face into his neck. "No storm tonight."

Harry pulled his wife into an embrace, gazing out into the winter wonderland bathed in moonlight. He felt as though a bit of its brightness had filtered through the darkness, into his heart. Ginny was right, after all. There was no use expecting wrong things to happen… even if they might.

"C'mere." he leaned back into the pillows, pulling her with himself. She slipped a hand up to the buttons of his pyjama shirt. "No." he stopped her hand. "Just… just let me hold you tonight. Just hold you."

"All right." she melted into his embrace, her head on his shoulder. She heard his heart beat – very peacefully. "I love you, Harry." she whispered, though she knew from his even breathing that he had fallen asleep.

* * * * *

Next day really started as the most boring Boxing Day Harry had ever had: Ron was absolutely right about Percy's new mania: wedding.

"You know, Harry," Percy sat down next to him on the sofa, "I have been thinking."

"Thinking?" Fred raised an eyebrow. "How very strange of you."

"I have been thinking about the wedding arrangements." Percy continued as though he hadn't heard Fred. "I thought that I, as an important person at the Ministry…"

"Important?" George blinked. "You are the deputy of the deputy of the deputy of the head of the Department of Intermagical Collaboration."

"International Magical Co-operation." Percy said, straightening his back, turning to Harry again, "I wanted to say that I, being an important personality, need to have a wedding appropriate for someone in my position."

"You mean you are planning to ask skrewts to be the bridesmaids, then." Fred reckoned.

"I meant," Percy said, holding his head in the air, "that I need someone… prominent to be my best man. Would you do the honour for me, Harry?"

"Me?" Harry was surprised. He and Percy had never been on good terms. "Well… all right."

"Thank you, my friend." Percy stretched out his hand in a very dignified sort of way.

"Thank so much, pal!" Fred tossed Percy's hand away, gripping Harry's right hand, shaking it.

"Yeah, I'm in your debt now!" George shook Harry's hand, either.

"Really." Molly Weasley shook her head, glaring at the twins. "Are you two ever going to grow up?"

"No." they replied, grinning.

Suddenly Ginny apparated next to Harry with a radiant smile. "It really works, Harry!"

"What, honey?"

"The ring! I was up in our room and didn't exactly know which room you were in… you could be either in the living room or the entrance hall or whatever. So I concentrated hard and with the help of the ring I managed to apparate right next to you!"

"So that means I managed to buy something useful." Harry smiled and pulled his wife into a kiss.

"But Harry…" she pulled back a bit. "What if something happens to you and I want to apparate to Durmstrang to help? You cannot apparate there, can you?"

"Well, the shop-keeper of the jewellery shop told me that the bind between the magic gems allows you to get to the bearer of the other one either way. It is not exactly apprating… it's like teleportation."

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Too bad that you haven't watched any Star Trek episodes, dear. Or was it transportation there? Never mind." Harry sighed. "Anyway, it's a lot like apparition, but not the same, so you can get to Durmstrang if you want…"

"Any time?" she started to grin.

"Oh… no, sorry." Harry shook his head. "If you want to get to such magically well-guarded places as Durmstrang, it only works in danger. However nice it'd be for us if you could get to me every night… it's impossible."

"Oh, all right." she pouted. "Too bad, I already got my hopes up… now I'm disappointed."

"Don't be, just promise me that you'll never take off the ring."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because if you take it off, the magic connection will be broken. Of course if you pull it on again, the magic bind will be restored, but I think it's better it you don't take it off at all. I for one will never take it off."

"I won't, either." she smiled, pulling him into another kiss, when they heard Ron's angry voice:

"What? You accepted a gift from Krum?"

Everyone in the room turned in the direction of Ron and Hermione.

"What if I did?" she retorted. "It's just a pair of earrings! He saw me wearing the brooch I got from you and he wanted to surprise me with something that had the same colour!" she pointed at the sapphire brooch on her periwinkle-blue dress.

"But… why is he giving presents to you, huh?" Ron snapped with clenched fists. "Someone would think… that…"

"You would think that, Ron, but no one else!" she shouted. "Because no one else is as stupid as you to believe that I have anything to do with Viktor!"

"But you do seem to have something to do with him!" he fumed. "You're wearing a piece of jewellery that you got from him! Why???"

"Why? Because you haven't bought me earrings to go with this dress, that's why!" she was on the verge of tears. "Here… I'm not wearing them anymore!" she practically tore the earrings off her ears – a wonder that they didn't start to bleed - and dropped them on a nearby table.

"Hermione…" Ron stepped closer, seeing that he had gone too far. "I didn't want to… accuse you or something, but… I just didn't understand why Krum gave you a present."

"Why wouldn't he?" Harry cut in. "He gave a brooch with a similar perinwinkle-blue gem to McGonagall as well… didn't he, Hermione?"

"Oh, sure." she nodded.

"Did he?" Ron blinked.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged.

"Oh… that's okay, then, I guess." Ron said. "Forgive me, Herm… please?"

"All right… it's Christmas, after all." she nodded and let him gather her into a hug. Over Ron's shoulder Hermione gave Harry a grateful look. Harry just answered with a wink.

* * * * *

The week between Christmas and New Year seemed to have flown, and it was already New Year's Eve.

"2000 in ten minutes." Ron said, pouring champagne into five glasses. "What'd you reckon it will be like, Harry? To live in the third millennium?"

"The third millennium only starts on the first of January, 2001." Hermione said in her usual know-it-all manner.

Ron shrugged. "Percy said the same. But many others say that 2000 is already the twenty-first century."

"They are wrong." Hermione replied. "Really. Can't they count? The first century lasted from the birth of Christ to 31st December, 100, and the second century began the next day, on the first of January, 101. The same applies for…"

"All right, I believe you." Ron rolled his eyes. "Anyway, it doesn't matter what we celebrate, the only thing that matters is that there's something to celebrate… and drink to."

"True." Sirius agreed, taking his glass of champagne from Ron.

"Well, it's time to make a wish for the next year." Ron said.

"You are wrong, dear." Hermione replied. "It is time to make a pledge for the next year… for example you could pledge to drink less."

"Do I look that crazy?" Ron frowned. "I'm not going to make any kind of vows… but I'm going to wish for something."

"I hope it's nothing… dangerous." she folded her arms.

"Nope." he grinned at her.

"Two minutes, guys." Harry said, looking at the grandfather's clock in the corner.

"Are you also making a wish?" Ginny asked, taking his hand.

"What could I wish for? I have everything… and those things that I don't have, aren't possible at all, so no use wishing for them." he said.

She squeezed his hand. "Miracles happen, Harry… once in a while…"

"I don't believe in miracles." he replied with a sad smile.

"Hey!" Sirius held up his hands. "Shh! Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year!" everyone shouted in unison. A couple of Filibuster's No-heat, Wet-start Fireworks exploded in the garden, painting the sky above with all colours of the rainbow.

"Happy New Year, my love." Harry kissed Ginny. Sirius grinned at them, diverting his gaze from the smooching couple – only to see Ron and Hermione do the same.

*Ah, why don't I have a woman in my life?* he thought sourly. *Oh, that's it! My New Year's Wish! I want a woman!*

* * * * *

"So, do you, Percival Weasley, want Penelope Clearwater to be your wife?" the priest asked. (Yes, wizards also have priests!)

"Yes, I do." Percy replied with an extremely serious expression.

"And do you, Penelope Clearwater, want Percival Weasley to be your husband?"

"It's not too late to change your mind, Penny!" Fred said, only to get a withering glance from his mother, which he totally ignored.

"I do." Penelope answered.

"Too late." George groaned. "She's gonna regret it."

As the priest pronounced Percy and Penelope husband and wife, Fred leaned to George: "I'm never going to make this mistake, getting married."

"No?" Ginny whispered to the twins. "I thought you caught Millicent's bouquet, Fred."

"Rubbish. No woman's going to make me marry her." Fred declared, catching the glimpse of Angelina Johnson.

"Not even she?" Ginny smiled, seeing whom her brother was eyeing.

"No. No way." he replied sternly.

* * * * *

"Nice party, huh?" Remus Lupin said, holding a glass of champagne. "The bride's charming."

"Yeah, she's practically beaming." Sirius replied. "I wonder how long that will last."

"Really, Sirius, how came that you haven't found yourself a woman yet?" Lupin asked. "There are so many pretty, single witches, even at this party."

"Then why don't you go chase them?"

Remus turned red. "I think… they might not…"

"Might not what?" Sirius inquired.

"Might not want a werewolf…" his friend shrugged.

"But your former girlfriends… they didn't mind, did they?"

"What girlfriends?" Remus took a sip of the champagne.

"What…? Remus!" Sirius shouted. "You mean you never…?"

"Sssssh!" Lupin pressed his index-finger to his mouth.

"But Remus!" Sirius didn't realise that he was still shouting.

"Quietus." Lupin pointed his wand at his friend's throat, then leaned closer to whisper: "I don't want this printed, Sirius. It would surely be a scoop for the journalists who are present… Remus Lupin, the Virgin Werewolf, but… would you be so kind and not shout it from the rooftop?"

Sirius nodded.

"Right, then. Finite Incantatem." Lupin said.

"You poor, poor fellow." Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Terrible. Have women turned you down because you were a werewolf, or have you never even tried to um, persuade them?"

"There was someone I liked, long ago." Remus said with a dreamy expression. "She liked me too, but when she got to know what I was… she got scared."

"And? What happened to her?" Sirius got really curious.

"Well, she became a teacher."

"That's not what I'm interested in. Has she got married or anything?"

"No. As far as I know she's single." Remus replied.

"Do you know what that means?" Sirius grinned. "She still loves ya!"

"What? Rubbish." Lupin waved. "How could she love a werewolf? No… I'm sure she doesn't feel anything for me anymore."

"And you?"

"What's with me?"

"Do you still love her?"

"That doesn't matter." Remus shrugged, reaching for a new glass of champagne. "It really doesn't matter."

"So you do." Sirius perceived. "You love her. Tell me, how could I help you, my friend?"

"I don't need your help, Sirius." Lupin shook his head with a stern expression.

"Remus, Remus, don't play the proud werewolf again, please!" his friend sighed.

"I'm not playing anything, I just don't want people's compassion, that's all." Lupin replied. "And now let's go, Penelope's just slicing the wedding tart. I don't want to miss it."

"Mmmm… my favourite type." Albus Dumbledore sighed happily, munching on a piece of tart.

"Is there a type of tart that you don't like, sir?" Harry asked with a smile.

"No, I don't think there is." the old man grinned. "Nice speech you delivered as the best man, Harry."

"Thanks. I was quite surprised when Percy asked me to be his best man, really. I mean, he and I have never been friends or anything…"

"I believe our Percy just wanted to have someone important to be his best man… you know how ambitious he is. I wonder whether being married would dampen his ambitions."

"Well… that is up to Penelope. I hope she'll be bossy with him. That's what he deserves." Harry commented.

"Speaking of bossy…" Albus squinted at him with a mischievous little light in his eyes. "Is your sister-in-law still as bossy as she used to be?"

"Hermione? Oh, yeah. Bossier than ever." Harry smirked. "Not that it really bothers Ron. He loves her the way she is. He loves her not for being bossy, but for having such a good heart, such a willingness to help everyone." he looked at his two best friends dancing at the other end of the hall. "She is a bit nosy, of course and sometimes too chatty, spilling the beans about things she shouldn't, but even Aberforth says that she only wants to help, and that's right, I guess. Wonderful witch, Hermione." Harry looked back at Dumbledore, whose face didn't look as happy as it had a minute before. He was furrowing his brows and there was no trace of mischief in those stunningly blue eyes anymore. Harry didn't know what he had done or said wrong.

"Aberforth…" the old wizard put down the plate with his half-eaten slice of tart. "Truth be told, young Harry, I have forgotten that my brother was one of the Triwizard judges. Is he… is he all right?"

"Yeah, he is." Harry replied. "Apart from… well, he's a bit of, um, weirdo, I guess. No offence intended, sir, but your brother is a bit strange."

"Stranger than me?" Albus blinked, truly surprised.

"Er… yeah."

"That's nice to hear." Albus smiled in an impish kind of way. "I always thought I was the crazier of the two of us."

Harry stifled a laugh.

"And, what is my 'strange' brother doing there in the far Russia?"

"Driving a reindeer-sleigh, making friends with yetis, wooing professor McGonagall…" these were the first things Harry could think of.

"What? Minerva?" Albus was doubling over with laughter. "Oh… that… that was… really… a good joke." he chuckled. "I guess some of my ribs might have broken. Can you tell me more jokes like that?"

"Actually I have heard one about three yetis who… but that wasn't a joke, sir. Aberforth really fancies professor McGonagall."

"Oh, poor Minerva." Dumbledore said, reaching out for the plate he had put down, carrying on with eating the cake. "She has been keeping in touch with me since the arrival at Durmstrang, but she never mentioned Aberforth. Poor, poor Minerva."

"Why…? Do you think it'd be that terrible for professor McGonagall to get into a… relationship with your brother?" Harry frowned.

"Weeeeell… maybe yes… maybe no." Albus replied. "Oh, excuse me, Harry, I need to get one more slice of this tart." he hurried off with his plate.

* * * * *

Fred was looking out of the window, into the park of the 'Burrow Manor' (it was the nickname of the Weasleys' new house). He had drunk a couple of glasses of champagne and maybe a bit of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey as well, and he was observing the snow-decked trees with a bemused sort of expression.

Suddenly he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder. Fred jerked his wand out of his pocket to shout Stupefy when he saw that his 'attacker' had been Angelina.

"Oh, hi, babe." he grinned at her.

"You're drunk again, Fred." she scowled at him.

"Why, aren't I allowed to get a bit tipsy on my big brother's wedding?" he argued. "Really, Angie, weddings are the perfect occasions to get drunk."

"I seriously hope that you won't get drunk at our wedding." she crossed her arms.

"Our what?" Fred blinked. "You're also drunk, aren't you, sweetie?"

"I'm not drunk, I'm pregnant, Fred." she replied coolly.

"You… you… what?" he shouted.

"Hey, what's up, Fred? Angelina? Why are you shouting?" George walked up to them, holding a glass of fizz.

"I've just told your brother I was pregnant with his child." Angelina said.

"But… that's… that's… totally impossible!" Fred bellowed, making all the crowd in the hall go silent and listen to their row. "We haven't slept together since… Harry's birthday party! And that was five months ago!"

"What?" Angelina hissed. "Do you deny having done it with me on Guy Fawkes' Day? Night, I mean?"

"What?" Fred started to get really confused.

"In the stable! Remember? When everyone else was out there with the bonfires?!" she yelled back. "You were quite drunk back then, too!" she added furiously.

"That wasn't me!" he retorted. "I don't know who…" he suddenly turned to his twin-brother, who had been making steps backwards for the last minute, hoping to vanish into the crowd if needed. "GEORGE!"

"George?" Angelina shrieked. "You don't mean…?"

By this time George had reached the edge of the crowd. "Locomotor Mortis!" Fred shouted, swishing with his wand that he hadn't pocketed since Angelina's 'attack'. George fell backwards.

"Fred… listen…" he started. "I was drunk… I just saw a woman wanting to seduce me, and hell… I let her! It was already in the morning when I realised that it was Angelina!"

"So… it was really YOU!?!" Fred bellowed. His brother gulped, as white as a sheet. "Angelina!" he turned back to his girlfriend. "How did you NOT realise it wasn't me?"

"How could I have?" she hissed. "It was dark, for heaven's sake! Sometimes I cannot tell you apart in broad daylight – how could I tell you apart in the dark?"

"You…" Fred pointed at his twin, who was still lying on the floor. "You are going to marry her, understood?"

"Marry? Are you out of your mind?" George yelled, pulling his wand out of his robes. "Finite Incantatem." he pointed at his legs, and stood up.

"If you don't marry her…" Fred growled.

"Then…?" George took a step backwards.

"Then…"

And that was when all hell broke loose. Tables whooshed through the air, food littered the floor and guests – mainly ladies – screamed. It wasn't a bit like the food-fight at Harry's wedding – this wasn't just a play.

Harry, along with a couple of other wizards, hurried to pull the fighters apart – only to get a stabbing curse from Fred's wand. Had Fred not been drunk, or had he aimed properly, the curse might have killed Harry – the same one had severed Nearly Headless Nick's Head from his body two years earlier. Fortunately Harry got a 'mild' version of the curse, so only fell and hit his head.

Half an hour later he came round to see an anxious Ginny looking down at him.

"Oh, Harry…" she bent down and kissed him, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"What happened?" he croaked, feeling dizzy. He must have got a mild concussion.

"I was so scared…" she sniffed. "I was in the adjoining room when… the gem in my ring started to flicker… I knew that you were in trouble… I apparated… or rather um… teleported myself to you immediately and saw that you had fainted."

"Don't worry, I'm all right." he sat up slowly, looking around, seeing that they were still in the hall of the Burrow Manor, but no guests were around anymore. However, there were chairs turned over, table-cloths lying on the floor and everything looked terribly messy. "Oh… the fight." he murmured. "What happened?"

"George is at St. Mungo." Ginny replied. "Unconscious."

Percy's wedding went down in history as the most catastrophic wedding ever. The young husband, who had planned and prepared everything so well and thoroughly, sank into total depression. Some rumours say that he was so depressed that he didn't even sleep with his wife on their wedding night.