(A/n: -sigh- isn't anybody sad that this story is almost coming to an end? ::pulls out hanky and dabs at eyes::) sry about the wait…writer's block, and I wanna go out with a bang…no pressure, right?

Reviewer Quotes:

"YAY! you used hanky panky! is delighted but really. I love this fic, because you make Ginny seem like a real person, with serious concerns and thoughts. J.K. Rowling would be proud!"
—milky way bar (I'd like to thank the academy…::sob:: )

"This is SO GOOD!! It's not the regular dumbass Ginny, or punkass Ginny, but this is the real Ginny. You've captured her personality, and done a fabulous job on Harry's character.
"I love how they had to slowly fall in love first. They didn't rush like so many other fics, but they're friends first. And the fluff isn't painful at all... It's the rare type of fluff that makes you go "aw... that's SO SWEET!!" "
—Elie (woot! Mission accomplished!)

"Now I'm gonna have a goofy grin all day because I've got the image of Harry in that…prom dress and being stared at by three guys while he is trying to explain to them just why he's in the dress XD"
—Rayah Papaya (heh…"fruit cup")

"-tear- She name the kitty 'Lily!' It's Lily the kitty..."
—specialpastry (isn't it just adorable? btw, love ur name!)

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N

"Salami?"
"Er…what?" Harry asked, staring up at Hagrid.
"Do yeh want some salami?" Hagrid repeated.
"Erm, Hagrid…you're standing at the back of the church, about to get married, and you're offering me salami?"
"Well, yeah. It's tradition, like. A' least tha's what Molly says."
"I think I'll pass," said Harry, pushing away the salami Hagrid held out to him.
"More fer me, then," said Hagrid, shrugging, and he shoved the whole sausage in his mouth.

Harry tried to turn away as Hagrid suppressed a burp, but found his urge to stare insurmountable. No longer was Hagrid's face hidden by a forest of bushy hair—his beard had been shaved away revealing the smooth and rosy skin below; his hair—tucked behind his ears in a sleek ponytail that dangled amid the shoulder blades. He was dressed in a large black tuxedo and bowtie, and looked more nervous and ecstatic than Harry had ever seen him.

Desperately trying to flatten his own hair, Harry hoped he hadn't mussed himself too badly on the way here. He searched for a sort of reflective surface around the hallway of the massive cathedral but found none. Indeed, it would have appeared rather churlish if he left his position now—the room was rapidly filling with loads of people who entered from the side doors, many Harry knew and several he didn't.

He observed the Weasleys trickle into a pew in the front row: Bill, talking quietly with his girlfriend Fleur Delacour; Charlie, laughing at something the red-haired girl after him had just said (Harry had never seen her before); Fred and George, in fine matching robes of luminous green; Mr. Weasley, beaming at his good fortune of acquiring a Muggle suit for the event; and Ginny, tucked in a sapphire dress and wrap, her hair floating in feathery clouds around her head and shoulders.

"They look wonderful, don't they?" asked Mrs. Weasley from in front. She would be escorting Hagrid to the altar—always a mother, Molly Weasley.
"Brilliant," Harry said to himself. "Absolutely brilliant."

As he said this, a stream of five girls entered from the door on his right side, and aligned themselves next to their partners. Harry had never met anyone in this queue before, excluding Ron and Hermione, who were behind Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley.

Trust Maxime to have extensive family.

" 'Ello, 'Arry," greeted the girl next to him, fluttering her long eyelashes. He gave a small start—with jet-black hair to rival his own and vibrant blue eyes, he couldn't help but notice she was very pretty. He gulped. She was also about six-and-a-half feet tall.

"Er, hello Christine."
She laughed softly. "Ma tante Maxime was right…you are very 'andsome,"
Harry felt himself go red. Before he could say anything embarrassing, the large organ near the altar began to play a wedding march. The notes sounded like phoenix song.
"Oh lá lá, quel musique très belle!" said Christine dreamily.
"Mmm," Harry replied, wishing he understood French. The pair in front of them had linked arms. Harry offered his own to Christine, who transferred her bouquet to the other hand and took his arm graciously. She lifted the skirt of her golden dress, brushed a red rose into place, and elegantly raised herself.

They waited until the couple ahead of them was six paces away, and began a slow walk down the aisle. Harry felt his insides burn painfully, and kept his eyes fixed on his feet. Christine, however, beamed merrily and inclined her head towards numerous people. It was with great relief he reached the altar and parted from her to stand near Hagrid. Fred and George caught his eye and mouthed, "poor ickle short Harry" between peals of silent laughter.

All heads in the cathedral swiveled as one to watch Maxime be escorted down the red-velveted aisle by a very regal-looking woman. Harry supposed her to be Maxime's mother—they shared the same beaky nose and were clearly both giantesses.

Olympe Maxime was dressed in a flowing white gown adorned with many crystals and pearls, her olive skin glowing between the capped sleeves that began past the collar bones and ended below the elbows. The dress's magnificent skirt and train reminded Harry of a circus tent—the white satin was interpolated by bands of beige fabric garlanded with golden stitching. A transparent veil trailed from the tiara in her hair to the floor, where it was promptly raised by a small boy and girl, and the beige petals scattered on the walkway matched the flowers in her bouquet.

Madame Maxime, Olympe's mother, was clad in a Victorian-style dress of rose charmeuse and black chiffon, accented with gossamer tulle. It was off-the-shoulder with a translucent black layer over the skirt, which was lifted into peaks by pink roses. Ropes of black pearls encircled her neck, and hung to the neckline of the gown. Her hair was teased and curled and ornamented with a petite barrette swathed in black lace chiffon and an ebony ostrich feather.

Harry pulled his eyes away from them to look at Hagrid's expression. He seemed close to tears, and was looking at Olympe as if she were the answer to his prayers, as if all his wishes had been granted.

He suddenly remembered his own wish on the night of the party, blowing out the candles and hearing Sirius' voice in his ear:

I wish for something that will make all this—the war, the pain—a little bit easier.

Ginny had been his wish come true. He chanced a glance at her, and saw her staring almost wistfully at the bride. Was she imagining her own wedding? A flowing white dress, flowers everywhere, and the perfect husband waiting at the altar?

It could never be him, of course. Harry wasn't perfect, and he knew it. He just thought Ginny had accepted that.

Maxime had reached the altar by then, kissed her mother away, and accepted Hagrid's outstretched hand. Now the entire assembly watched the golden curtain hanging behind the couple, waiting for it to sway back.

It did indeed, and out from it stepped the minister:

Albus Dumbledore, dressed in splendid robes of black and gold.

He twinkled down on them all, wearing a benign smile, before opening a small black folder in his hands.

"Ladies, Gentleman, and Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of this man and this woman …"

Harry found it hard to focus on the ceremony—his thoughts were distracted by both Ginny and Sirius. Was the love of Ginny's life right under her nose? Did Sirius feel the same while watching his best friend's wedding—wrong-footed and speculating?

"May we have the rings, Mr. Potter?" Harry tucked a hand into his pocket and retrieved two golden, average-sized Muggle hoop earrings. Dumbledore took them from him, gave one to Hagrid, and read him the vows, which Hagrid reiterated:

"This ring is a promise o' love, trust, and fidelity," he said, slipping it on Maxime's finger. Maxime repeated the act.

Now, Harry was sure he had been lost in thought for the moment, because Dumbledore could not have said what Harry just heard:

"Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your wife?"
"I do," he whispered, without hesitation. And from the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny mouth the same.

His heart beat wildly in his chest. Hermione had been right, Ginny wasn't over him.

Maybe there was hope for him yet…

---

"Wasn't that wonderful? Let's have a loud hand for the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Rubeus Hagrid!"

Wild applause filled the balmy summer evening as Hagrid kissed his bride's hand and they bowed. They had just completed their first dance as husband and wife, and were ready to begin the next—with the rest of the court.

Harry walked arm-in-arm with Christine onto the dance floor, carefully avoiding looking at anyone else but her. He was slightly nervous—he had never danced with someone he didn't know before, and he was quite used to Ginny's style.

Before he could think anything else unnerving, the music began to play. Harry took a deep breath, positioned his hands, and looked up. Christine's warm eyes smiled back at him and his knees went weak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce a vivacious talent—" Seamus Finnigan, the emcee, said into the microphone on the stage over the band's playing, "for your hearing pleasure, Ms. Ginevra Weasley!"

His heart gave a start. Ginny was singing? And so amazing was this thought that he ripped his eyes away from Christine and stood quite still on the floor. Christine nudged him slightly so that his feet began to move, but his gaze was still focused on the stage, where Ginny indeed was standing and clutching the microphone in a very artistic way.

Harry and Ginny's eyes met, and he instantly knew:

This song would be for him.

"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder."

Harry wondered, all right. Every day, he wondered.

"You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger."

Actually, he was kind of hungry…

"May you never take one single breath for granted."

He had learned the hard way to never do that.

"God forbid love ever leave you empty handed."

Ginny had given him so much…

She stared right at him and sang softly,

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens.
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance.
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance…"
Ginny crooned with all her might,

"I hope you daaaaaaaaaance,
Hope you dance…"
Harry began to read the hidden messages in her words…

"I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance.
Never settle for the path of least resistance.
Livin' might mean takin' chances but they're worth takin'…"

He had to keep fighting…he was a savior.

"Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin'
Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter
When you're close to sellin' out, reconsider…"

Bans, "just friends", and dresses...wait. Were his attempts working?

"Give the heavens more than just a passing glance."
 Sirius.

"And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance…
I hope you daaaaaaaaaance,
Hope you dance…
Time is a wheel in constant motion…always rolling us along."

"Tell me, who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?"

Harry wasn't going to waste his years.

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens.
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance.
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance…"
Ginny took a breath and smiled at Harry.

"Daaaaaaaaance.
I hope you dance…"
She faded away into the instrumental ending of the song, and as soon as the music ended, Harry was the first to lead the standing ovation.
Ginny beamed and blushed and took her bows, and just as she was stepping off the stage straight towards Harry…
Christine seized Harry by the shoulders, whipped him round, and kissed him.

a/n: dum dum dum!!! And the plot thickens!

well fans, I think I've found this story's anthem! Did you like the song? It's called
"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack. I highly suggest you listen to it, it's beautiful.

only two chapters to go!

Review b/c HiPa Loves You! (p.s. don't kill me 4 the format and random bolding...durn quickedit!)