THE ONE WITH THE CANNOLI

Disclaimer: Anything you see or recognise is not mine….

Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open and he glanced around, noticing the coppery waves of hair that spread like a halo on the pillow next to his; framing Ginny's innocent face as she slept. Harry smiled to himself, leaning down and entangling his hands in those waves, burying his face in it, inhaling her uniquely cinnamon scent.

Ginny turned around then and snuggled into his embrace, still fast asleep. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she slapped him hard on his cheek. Harry sat up with a jolt, his vision bleary without his spectacles. Something was hitting him on the head.

"Stop! Stop! Hey!" Harry held out a hand in protest as he groped for his spectacles.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, putting on his glasses, as his best friend, hit him yet again with a pillow. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up," stated Ron matter-of-factly before throwing the pillow in his best friend's face and hurrying out of the room.

Harry could not help but grin amusedly at Ron's antics. There was something in the air – a charged anticipation of the most significant event in cycle of love. Harry stood up, fully awake after his afternoon nap. A look outside showed him that everything was set for the wedding.

The two wings of the sprawling mansion curved slightly toward the front, encircling a large garden, which led to an even larger field beyond, all of which Harry could see from where he stood. There were two huge gazebos set up in the snow-covered grounds of Godric Valley. The larger gazebo was for the wedding banquet, the other for the wedding ceremony itself. Harry smiled, the archway to the smaller gazebo was splendid, a great choice on Zedka's part.

A red-carpeted path was magically elevated a few inches off the snow-covered ground. It led from the patio of the house to the arched entrance into the wedding gazebo. The same enchanted path led out from the smaller gazebo to the larger one set up specially for the dinner banquet..

Harry walked out of his room and the sounds of people moving about the house greeted him. Then the familiar laughter that he could listen to all day, greeted his ears. He paused in the hallway, hearing another voice, one very much male.

As he peered around the corner, he wished that he had not. For pinned against the wall was Ginny Weasley, with Blaise Zabini leaning into her in a very lecherous manner.

"Blaise, Stop!" gasped Ginny between giggles, as the tall, well-built man tickled her and attempted to kiss her on her lips. Harry watched in morbid fascination; torn with desire, jealousy, and every other vile emotion.

" I mean it, Blaise..." Ginny trailed off as he leaned down to capture her mouth once again, his dark brown and wavy hair falling all over both of their faces.

Then, to Harry's delight, Ginny pushed him away, panting.

"Blaise, stop," she breathed, "this is what's wrong with us. We never talk and you never listen. Here I am telling you what your sister did and all you want to do is snog me...as fun as that is…" she digressed, "What I mean is-"

"I've already told you that Tree's an uptight bitch, right?" Blaise sighed wearily, as Ginny took a step away from him.

"Why can't you just listen to me? I don't want you to condemn you sister like that. Maybe if you paid her more attention, she'd be less hostile to me," Ginny suggested, rather sensibly.

Blaise waved her off, shaking his head. "Please, it'll never work. She just wants the estate," he explained, his dark gray eyes glinting dangerously as he leaned towards her. "And I want you," he murmured throatily.

"Stop IT!" Ginny protested as he attempted once more to kiss her lips and neck.

Harry decided that he had more than enough of this. It was time he became proactive in this area of his life in his life. After all, he and Ginny were back to being friends, and he was sure that the list of duties that their friendship entailed included protection from perverted ex-boyfriends.

"Harry." Ginny's eyes went wide, her face gaining a bit too much colour as she noticed Harry turning the corner. She pushed Blaise away from her, looking much more embarrassed than the tall, handsome Italian.

"Hey, Gin." Harry flashed her a reassuring smile before nodding in the general direction of Zabini, who in turn shot him a disgruntled smile.

As Harry walked past them, he heard Zabini asking Ginny in a rather disdainful voice, "What's with him calling you 'Gin'?"

"It's nothing, just a childhood name," she explained.

Harry paused for a moment, hoping to hear how Zabini would respond. Unfortunately, he was met with silence. Suddenly, something collided with him from behind, causing him to stumble forward and nearly lose his balance.

He turned around to see Ginny struggling to get up, her feet caught in her robes. Harry, having regained his footing, held out his hand to her. She ignored his outstretched hand and struggled to stand up, looking pitifully morose. Ginny did not like the way the past hour had gone – confronting Blaise and now colliding clumsily with Harry.

"I am profoundly and irreversibly screwed up!" She sighed heavily, glancing at Harry. He shook his head, fixing his gaze upon her.

"Far from it." The look in his eyes made her feel as if the entire world had stopped spinning and there was only she and he. She tried to breathe but all she could think about was how wonderful it would be to have him look at her like that for the rest of her life – so full of faith, love and desire.

Or maybe her wild imagination, or need for him to look at her that way was tainting her perception. She averted her gaze and looked at the floor, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

Harry cleared his throat, realizing that he had let his well-used façade slip. "I, I…it's just that…"

"Don't try to make me feel better, Harry. It just makes me feel worse," Ginny told him. Then with a mild, sad sort of smile, she walked off.

Harry watched her go and knew he was inevitably done for.

He headed towards the master bedroom of the west wing where Remus, Sirius, and the other groomsmen were supposed to be getting ready.

When Harry walked in, he noticed Ron's face plastered to the huge window that grazed one wall of the spacious room. Harry made his way to stand beside his best friend and instantly noticed what held Ron's attention.

A car had glided out of a cloud in the sky and was descending toward the driveway. This was not just a car though, this was a custom made Italian Lamborghini. The other cars that eventually came to a halt behind it were of different makes, but all jaw droppingly sleek and stylish. And even more of these cars were appearing from out of the clouds above.

"Flying Porsches," Ron murmured, awestruck.

"Are you cursing or making an observation?" Fred teased, joining his younger brother at the window.

"My goodness, they have two Ferraris." George piped in, amazed.

"Isn't that a Bugatti Veyron?" Sirius asked, incredulously.

"No. That's definitely a Lamborghini Gallardo." Remus stated, attracting looks of disbelief. "What? I just happen to know my Italian cars," he said smugly, clad only in his bathrobe as he prepared to have a warm shower to cool his nerves.

"They always have to make a grand entrance – these Italians." He commented dryly. Harry could not help but agree.

Just then, Charlie walked in, "The Italians have arrived, and they've brought some food with them. It's in the kitchen. Mrs. Bernoulli's handling it, and she says that it's for the starving groomsmen and bridesmaids."

Remus was not surprised that Zedka's family had turned up with food. Italians were good for that sort of thing. They knew what mattered in this world; that everyone needed food and shelter, that an army ran on its stomach, that children had to be fed, bathed, and put to bed. Except at funerals, (Of which Remus had attended a few to keep Zedka company) when they indulged hysteria at a time when it availed them least, Italians did what needed doing

'Oh, I'm ravenous," Sirius looked hungry instantly. "How about it, Remy?"

"I was going to have a shower. And this reminds me – Sirius, have the caterers arrived?"

"Yes, they have." Sirius answered, a tad exasperated. "You asked me that five times already."

"Just needed to make sure," Remus said, walking towards the bathroom.

'I feel like some cannoli." Harry said, offering to accompany Sirius down to the kitchens.

'Oh, careful." Sirius warned Harry and Ron, at the sight of the formidable Mr. Patrick Bernoulli; a tall, broad shouldered man with a hefty paunch, a handlebar moustache, and a respectable looking beard tainted with white hair, typical of old age. His behavior was anything but aged though, his voice booming across the kitchen as he invited everyone to take the food that Teresa was helping Mrs. Bernoulli put onto trays.

"Watch me make putty out of him," Sirius whispered as he made his way through the crowd that milled about in the kitchens, coming in from the patio.

Most of these people were immediate family members of the bride or groom, or just close friends. The other guests would be arriving some time later, in time for the ceremony. Harry trailed after Sirius and caught sight of Ginny and Hermione standing out on the patio, talking.

He never could seem to take his eyes off Ginny, and had come to realize that rarely were people so interesting to watch. That was why observing Ginny was such a pleasure – she was full of countless quirks, and there were so many different facets to her personality. One minute you thought you knew her, and the next minute you realized that you did not. It was a truly amazing odyssey of discovery and laughter to watch her and even talk to her.

Unfortunately, Sirius' kissing up to Remus' fearsome looking father-in-law was also something not to be missed. So, tearing his eyes away from the pretty red head, Harry observed his godfather introduce himself.

"Ah!" Mr. Bernoulli exclaimed. "The best man!"

His wife, who stood beside him, barely paid Mr. Bernoulli any attention. Mrs. Bernoulli was little, light boned, and not at all the stereotypic black- shawled Sicilian mama – she wore her hair in a pageboy and wore a silver moon pin on her plum coloured dress robes.

"That's me," Sirius said, flashing a disarming grin that caught the attention of a few of the hot-blooded Italian women standing around.

"Y'know, they say that the company a man keeps makes him who he is," Mr. Bernoulli commented. It was hard to tell if that was meant as an insult or a compliment.

Sirius was unfazed. "Well, they also say that it takes a man to give away an angel. You're a real man then."

Mr. Bernoulli seemed terribly pleased, laughing loudly, his laughter booming off the kitchen walls like a gong.

"You hear this man?" He pointed a finger at Sirius as Blaise and two other young, handsome Italian men moved towards the counter for some finger food to keep them full until the dinner reception. Blaise shook his head at his uncle while the other two men laughed. One of them caught Harry's eye and smirked in amusement.

"Why aren't you marrying my daughter?" Mr. Bernoulli asked Sirius, only half-jokingly.

Sirius shook his head, smiling benignly, "She doesn't love me. She loves Remus."

"True, true," he conceded.

Then turning to his wife, "Carissimo, I think we'd better check on the wedding gazebo." Mr. Bernoulli had an attitude of utmost care and gentleness towards his wife. Harry could not help but admire that. And if he remembered correctly, Remus had told him that the Bernoullis had been married for forty years.

Sylvia Bernoulli nodded and then turned to Sirius and spoke in a soft warm voice, "It's nice to meet such a good friend of Remus'." She shook his hand tenderly.

"Oh pardon me, I've been so rude." Sirius realized. He turned towards Harry and Ron. "I forgot to introduce some other close friends of Remus'. This is my godson, Harry Potter."

"Bellissimo! I heard there would be famous wizards at this wedding. Never thought one of them would be THE Harry Potter," commented the Italian wizard who had caught Harry's eye earlier, standing near them with a plate filled with food.

He was tall, with jet-black hair, and gray-blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes. He was handsome in a boyish way with a lithe sort of build, and when he smiled, his eyes seemed to shine with mirth and mischief.

"Vincenzo, don't be tactless," Mrs. Bernoulli chided him, as she shook Harry's hand.

"Nice to meet you." Mr. Bernoulli smiled at him and then did the same to Ron when Sirius introduced him.

"Mangia. Please eat," Mrs. Bernoulli urged them, smiling, after which the Bernoullis left the kitchen.

"Nice folks," Ron commented.

"You obviously don't know them well," Vincent added knowledgeably. "You cross their paths and you're as good as dead."

Ron looked terrified. Both he and Harry exchanged glances before looking towards the food on the table fearfully, as if it were poisoned. Vincent laughed at them.

"And you are?" Harry asked prodded.

"Vincent Cappadora, cousin of the bride." He thrust his hand out and another round of handshakes followed.

Right after, Harry and Ron grabbed plates and walked around the table with their new acquaintance, trying to decide what looked the most edible, "get the cannolis, they taste good," commented Vincent helpfully.

"So I heard the Brazilian strippers at the stag party last night turned out to be men," Vincent smirked, while Harry choked on his cream horn and Ron looked like he had lost his appetite.

"Were they really?" Ron asked Harry in a half whisper, horrified, "I really didn't notice."

Harry shrugged in response, baffled himself.

The delectable Christine, who was exhausted from all of the various wedding preparations, soon joined Sirius, who had not followed Ron, Harry, and Vincent around the table. She was desperately in need of some food, and as the family saying went, 'a hungry Italian woman is an angry woman.' Unfortunately, Sirius had never heard that saying and took the last cannoli on the platter, not letting the look of pure irritation on Christine's face discourage him, he was happy to have at least gotten her attention.

"You are the most selfish human being on the planet," she scolded as he made obnoxious noises of appreciation to indicate how good the cannoli tasted.

"Well that's just silly. Have you met everyone on the planet?" Asked Sirius in mock bewilderment. Christine looked just about ready to burst a blood vessel but somehow managed to bite her tongue.

"Why don't you shut up?" She asked, taking a plate and helping herself to the tray of cream horns.

"Why? You're shutting up enough for the both of us." Sirius commented, hoping to get a rise out of the alluring woman.

"Is this you arguing? Because you're horrible at it," she shot back – bite for bite, bullet for bullet.

"Where did you say you were from? Bitchville?" She refused to give him credit by gaping open mouthed at his outright insolence, and instead shot him a dirty look, spun on her heel, and walked out to the patio to join Ginny and Hermione.

"So how'd did it go?" Harry asked Sirius when he caught up with the group.

Harry had observed the scene that had unfolded between Christine and Sirius from across the kitchen. Ron and Vincent, who stood nearby, had become oblivious to everything around them as they were deeply entangled in a conversation about Vincent's car – a custom made Porsche.

"We had a nice few minutes together. She threatened me and I patronized her. Didn't get much to eat, but I thought there was a connection." Harry grinned, taking a deep satisfaction in seeing his usually suave, smooth godfather suffer at the hands of a female.

"Don't you just hate men?" Christine asked as she joined the two younger women on the patio.

"Oh Merlin, I wish I did. That would make my life so much easier," Ginny responded.

Hermione shook her head reproachfully. Before she could launch into a lecture about hiding from true love and keeping certain feelings buried for years (her intended recipient being Ginny of course), Luna apparated with a loud 'pop'.

"Hello!" Luna greeted them, looking pretty in periwinkle blue dress robes and earrings made from the artificially blue feathers of the muggle flamingo bird. She hugged Ginny and Christine and patted Hermione's pregnant belly affectionately.

"You look tired," Luna told Hermione.

Ginny closed her eyes, anticipating the outburst. Hermione's mood had not been steady that day largely due to the fact that she was carrying a baby who seemed not to have a penchant for meeting due dates.

"Is that a polite way of saying I look like shit?" Hermione asked, impertinently.

Seeing no possible way to respond without incurring the wrath of this pregnant woman, Luna glanced across the patio for a diversion.

"Fred!" She crowed, at the sight of Fred Weasley, who was standing at a distance, his back facing her.

Fred had been talking to Christine's elder brother, a good looking, and charismatic wizard named Paul Madriani. "Do golfers in Ancient Rome yell 'IV' before teeing off?" Fred had asked him, never getting a response from the amused, earnest man because Luna's voice distracted him.

He turned around, and a wickedly delightful grin crossed his face. Without hesitation, Luna ignored her friends, and the disgusted look on Ginny's face, taking off at a sprint towards Fred.

The moment she got to him, Luna jumped on him, her arms going around his neck and her legs around his hips as she kissed him passionately on the lips. To Fred's credit, though he was surprised, he responded instantly, pulling her closer to him by winding his hands around her waist.

Ginny exchanged mortified looks with Hermione, both attempting to ignore the current display of public affection and failing miserably to do so. Christine had wandered off, saying that she had to do some final touch ups on Zedka's hair.

"If they get married, I'll do the shower," Hermione stated, quite authoritatively, nodding towards Luna and Fred.

"I'll do the pictures," Ginny offered.

"I'll do the groomsmen," Freda added as she walked past them on her way back to the room to help Zedka get ready, already having scavenged some of the Italian food from the kitchen for herself. They had been barred from eating in the room because the mere sight of any food was making Zedka nauseous. The bride-to-be was getting increasingly nervous by the hour.

Ignoring the looks of mock revulsion on Hermione and Ginny's faces, Freda smiled, "Ginny, you'd better come up soon and put on your dress."

Across the room, Luna and Fred had finally come up for air.

"Good. That was very good," Luna commented dreamily, a broad smile on her face. Then, adopting a seriously somber look, she added, "I'm sorry I didn't owl you on your birthday."

"My birthday? What do you mean?" Fred was puzzled as he eased his hold on Luna and she dropped back to her feet.

"Yes, last Thursday. Oh, you forgot your birthday, didn't you, Fred?"

"Damn it. I'm such an idiot." Fred slapped his forehead with his palm and then leaned down to kiss his girlfriend once more. Who could blame him? They had barely seen each other in the past week.

"Break it up, people," said Bill who had just arrived with his fiancée Van. They were both fresh and well dressed in their immaculate and stylish dress robes. The kissing couple jumped a mile apart, startled. Ginny and Hermione, who had been watching giggled.

"Ah, Fred, you and I have to have a chat." Fred glanced up at his sober faced elder brother.

"What about?" He asked, looking bewildered.

"Fred, what did you promise me?"

He frowned hard in concentration, and then snapped his fingers as he remembered. "That I wouldn't drink at the stag party," he said with a triumphant grin. Luna squeezed his arm; filled with pride that Fred remembered something. His memory was becoming a bit of a joke around the family.

"And what did you do?" Bill asked, straight faced even though Van was practically shaking with mirth beside him.

"Drank at the stag pa--... Whoa. I almost walked into that one."

Ginny was gasping for air as she doubled over with laughter at her brother's antics. When she calmed herself enough to straighten up, she found herself staring into a pair of intense emerald green eyes that she had been trying not to think about the whole of that day.

"Harry." She smiled at him, feeling something in her throat constrict.

Why did he always look at her in that way? Why did no other man ever look at her like that? Like she was the centerpiece of his universe, a statue on a pedestal. She could not help wondering just briefly, what it would be like to kiss Harry again. Would it be the same, or better, or worse?

After all, they were both different people from whom they had been that summer. So many events, incidents, relationships, and experiences had transformed them into who they were today. Would Harry ravage her with the same unrepressed passion, or would his kiss be a plainly neat, tidy, and controlled affair just like most things in his life were now?

So there she was, standing there, staring at Harry's lips – they were neither thick nor thin but, they looked rather soft and she remembered how soft they had actually felt on hers.

"I see your brothers are up to their usual nonsense," he commented dryly. She smiled. Ginny had the best smile in the world, Harry would certainly grant her that.

"Heh. At least you were spared the sight of Fred and Luna in action." Ginny grimaced. Harry laughed a throaty deep laugh that made Ginny feel unsteady on her feet.

"They're so public about their affection, eh?" Harry had witnessed his fair share of the exuberant couple already.

It was then that Ginny realized that though Harry seemed so completely changed, he was still so thoroughly familiar. He had always been uncomfortable about being unnaturally affectionate in the presence of other people and had envied people who could do so without qualms.

"Oh well, to each its own," Ginny told him.

He looked so adrift then; so swamped in dark thoughts of loneliness and unrequited love that Ginny had the urge to reach out to him. Instead, she took a step back and nearly stumbled, Harry put his hand out to steady her.

Harry had thought of Ginny Weasley every day since the day when he last held her. Now he supposed he was staring. He had been staring at her the whole of today, trying to puzzle out how this woman had charmed him into desiring her with such intensity.

"Can't believe we have less than an hour to the wedding," Ginny told him, just to say something, just to stop him from staring.

"You say it like its our wedding," Harry blurted out and then started, stunned at his own words. Idiot he immediately thought to himself. But that was what Ginny did to him – she threw him off balance, made him talk without thinking.

Ginny laughed a short chuckle of disbelief. Had he just said what she heard him say? Something very odd is going on here, Ginny thought. She felt that odd line of heat across her skin. Most people were moving off, either to the gazebo in the field or into the house to get ready, but neither Harry nor Ginny made a move to leave.

"Marriage is such an absolute thing. I can't imagine what it must be like for Remus and Zedka to take such a step," Ginny voiced her thoughts.

"It's easy for them, I suppose, because they love each other and are almost like best friends. You have to be really comfortable around the person you want to spend the rest of your life with," Harry reasoned.

It was probably the warmth of the house's heating system that was making it difficult for Ginny to breathe. She wished she had a paper bag to blow into. She wished her nerves were steadier. "It's incredibly difficult nowadays to find someone you can trust completely."

"No, it isn't." Harry did not know what else he could say without explicitly offering himself to her. Had he always been so dumb in Ginny's presence, so startled into stupidity?

"I think we'd better go back up and get ready," said Ginny, taking another step backward, and backing right into the glass screen door that lead to the gardens.

The glass was cold on her skin but Ginny did not care. For some reason, she was burning up through and through. She felt hot all over and completely turned inside out.

As Harry stood there watching her, he realized that a scent other than cinnamon lingered around her. Ginny Weasley gave off the odor of roses in spring, the same seductive scent that filled his dreams at night.

"I'll see you around then," Ginny told him, preparing to walk off. From the look on his face, she wondered if she had said something wrong. Harry appeared panic stricken, as though he might turn, dash out through the sliding glass door, and run out into the gardens.

He nodded, and attempted to smile at her. As she walked past him and headed out of the kitchen and up the spiral stairs, she felt as though she were drowning somehow.

"Who makes these things?" Zedka sounded nothing like her usually unaffected self as she fought with her bridal veil.

"Calm down. The veil is not attacking you," Freda commented, bemused by her best friend's spate of hysterics.

Christine, who was engulfed in gales of mirthful laughter managed to choke out, "I think she needs some of your claming potion, Gin."

"I do not." Zedka snapped testily. Ginny, who had only just walked into the room, was startled out of her romantic reverie. She eyed Zedka warily; she had never really seen her lose her cool before.

Maybe once or twice during the War, Zedka might have lost it, but with Remus around, she somehow seemed much more held together. He was the calm in her storm, her pillar of strength, Ginny mused. She could not help but wonder who had that exact affect on her. It took less than a second for her to realize whom.

No matter how much Harry made her feel as though she were on fire, his presence had a calming effect on her. What a paradox. But then again, Harry himself was a paradox; he was an enigma who could be surprisingly transparent about his emotions at times.

"Fifteen minutes more," Tonks announced, popping her head in through the door. "You have to go down and wait outside the entrance, so hurry, ladies," she chided gently before disappearing.

"Oh Merlin! I'm never going to get through this ceremony, poor Remus," Zedka sighed, wringing her hands worriedly.

"Zed, rilassarsi. You are going to marry Remus. Even if we are a bit late, he will wait for you. You know he will," Freda told her best friend sensibly.

Zedka seemed to draw into herself at those words, calming down slightly as she sat down on the chair by the dressing table. Ginny, who had already gotten her hair and make-up done, slipped on her bridesmaid's dress robes. They were made of silk and velvet in the lightest shade of peach and with a low cut neckline.

"He loves me, doesn't he?" Zedka asked suddenly, coming out of her silent self-reflection.

"More than you could ever imagine," Ginny told her confidently; while checking her own reflection in the full-length mirror to make sure that her hair had not come undone. Christine would pull a fit if it did. Her tresses had been carefully braided up, with dusty white roses entwined prettily in them. Christine had done the same for herself and Freda.

Freda gathered the long skirts of her robes and sat down beside Zedka, smiling she put an arm around her. "Be happy for this moment, this moment is your life."

Zedka nodded, "I love him too. I know I do, I mean love cannot always be perfect. Love is love," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Zedka stood up then, her lips lifted in a resolute, determined smile. "Let's get a move on girls. I need to go get married to the love of my life."

"Is my gray hair obvious?" Remus asked, in a rare fit of vanity.

The groom, the best man, and the ring bearer all were in the master bedroom getting ready for the wedding that had been touted by Witch Weekly as the social event of the year. This was because Remus happened to be on the most recent list of the most eligible wizards in country, and because Zedka was from a high profile Italian family.

"It's only as obvious as the little fact that our Harry here has got a thing for Ginny Weasley," Sirius observed in with an irritating drawl.

Remus shook his head resignedly and stopped fussing about in the mirror. Harry had it about up to his eyeballs with all the teasing and innuendos about him and Ginny. It was time to come clean.

Harry took a deep breath before speaking. "You're right. I want to go out with Ginny. I'd like her to be my girlfriend, here I said it."

For some reason, Harry did not feel worse, but better, as if the load he had been carrying around had been halved. Now that he had told at least two people, maybe they could help him out of his predicament.

"How brilliant!" Sirius crowed, looking into the mirror while styling his hair with the help of ten odd types of hair styling gels and charms.

Harry however had decided that he was not done. This voicing out of bottled up emotions felt extremely good to him. "I've been feeling this way ever since that summer at Hogwarts when I kissed her. It's as if I've taken love heroin, and now I can't ever have it again."

"All men are pawns when it comes to women," said Sirius sagely as he studied his hair in the mirror, it looked perfect to him.

"Ignore our Don Juan over here," said Remus, "Ginny doesn't know how you feel about her, does she?"

Harry shook his head despondently.

Remus continued, "Zedka says that if you love someone you should say it, and you say it right then, out loud. Otherwise the moment just passes you by."

"Passes you by Harry - Passes you by..." Sirius added, mocking Remus' wise tone.

Remus ignored Sirius and met Harry's keen gaze, "Tell her that you love her. You've got nothing to lose, and you'll always regret it if you don't."

"Yes, tell her, just bite the bullet," Sirius added, smiling encouragingly at his godson. He chanced a last glance at the mirror – he looked damn good for an over forty year old if he said so himself.

Remus gave Sirius a pleased smile, "You learn fast."

Sirius grimaced. "Love's for everyone but me. I am an island. I am bloody Ibiza!"

Dave, a friend of Remus' and one of the groomsmen, opened the door and peered in, "Good, you're ready. It's time, mates." After flashing a consoling grin, he was gone.

Remus drew in a shaky breath as he exchanged glances with Harry and Sirius. "Let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love," he declared with a wry smile, leading the way out of the room.

TBC

Italian – English Translations:

Cannoli: Deliciously sinful Italian snack

Rilassarsi: Relax

Mangia: Eat

Carissimo: Dearest

Bellissimo: Swell (Something like wow!)

Author's Note

I'm back, people! FINALLY eh? I was stuck on my D/G fic and decided to return to my roots for now – H/G fanfic all the way!

I've done the next two chapters as well... only in need of some touching up... Don't worry this story is NOT going to end anytime soon…unless you want it to of course… Hehe… I love being evil.

Apologies for how long it took to get this chapter up…

Could NEVER give up this story…(might write and NOT post it if I don't get reviews...evil me strikes again) this is one of my more brilliant ideas – if I say so myself…

I have taken lines from the books I've read and movies I've watched and put it together with my own lines and viola! If u recognise anything don't shoot me... I am no dirty whore – have never even had a boyfriend and I'm eighteen!

I LOVE Italians – the hot men, the gorgeous fashions, the flow-y language, the sexy cars, the heart wrenchingly beautiful art, the eye popping artifacts and historical architecture, the mouth watering food… Mama Mia!

So as you can see, I am having TONS of fun writing this piece – hell, it's my favourite Harry Potter characters and my favourite Italians, all together…

What's been up with me lately – nothing much except that ALL my friends insist I'm in love with my best guy friend something which I'm furiously denying…He kind of inspired the physical appearance of Vincent Cappadora…that's not his name though… My BGF's Eurasian.

Also, any questions you have please address it to me in your reviews… Forgive any grammatical mistakes...largely due to absence of a reliable beta reader…

Next chapter – THE WEDDING ITSELF! More Harry Ginny action, Fleur turns up causing some unexpected troubles and what is going on between Fred and Luna?

REVIEW! REVIEW! GODDESS OF REVIEWS DEMANDS MORE REVIEWS! AS OFFERING FOR NEXT CHAPTER!