Anywhere but in Between
I only own the plot. Well, we're on a roll, so let's keep going, shall we?
Chapter 16 – Lifting the Veil
Ron rubbed wearily at his eyes. It was the afternoon of the wedding, and his mother had woken him shortly after dawn to begin setting up. He'd been moving nonstop ever since, from time to time catching a glimpse of one of his brothers, looking equally exhausted.
He and Harry had set up all the tents and pavilions in the yard, and they were now working on the candles and lights that were needed in both. They were trying to hurry, since they were under strict orders to be done in the next few minutes.
"I don't think I've ever seen your mum this –" Harry trailed off, searching for the appropriate word.
"Insane?" Ron supplied, waving his wand at a set of candleholders in the corner. They zoomed into place, and Ron attached the candles. "I swear, if she doesn't calm down, the whole house is going to turn on her."
Harry laughed. "Well, this is her first child's wedding. I think she gets at least a small grace period."
"Sure, take her side," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Just because you're her favorite…"
They were done sooner than they'd expected, so they snuck off to find Bill and see how he was faring. They found him in the living room with Charlie, looking pale and nervous.
Charlie spotted them, and waved them over. "Ron, can you inform your brother that Fleur will indeed show up this afternoon and to get a grip, please?" he said, looking thoroughly put-out. "I swear, if he tells me one more time how much better she deserves, I'm going to haul off and slug him."
Harry laughed, and Ron considered his oldest brother. Bill had always been the epitome of cool, always letting things slide right off him if it became too intense. He had never seen Bill lose his composure, and it was strange to see him this way now.
Just then, their father entered the living room, and spotting his oldest son's face, he took him gently by the elbow. "Go on, lads. Your mum has quite a bit more for you to do. I'll take care of this," he said, tugging Bill toward the stairs.
"Are you going to give him the talk?" Charlie yelled after them, causing Harry to laugh even harder. Bill turned on the stairs to glare at them, but Ron could see the bright redness of his cheeks and he laughed along with Harry.
Charlie faced them and grinned. "I couldn't help it. He's so tightly wound right now, I didn't know what else to do."
For the next hour or so, they all worked on the tremendous list of things to do that their mother had posted on the kitchen refrigerator. Ron didn't see any of the girls' names listed next to any of the chores, and when he pointed this out to his mother, she practically bit his head off.
"They have enough to do with helping Fleur, so don't you concern yourself with them," she snapped, bustling about the kitchen, preparing food for over fifty people. Now, get to the rest of that stuff on the list. Fleur's family will be here within the hour, and then you all have to get cleaned up."
Ron grumbled to himself as he went back outside with Harry. "What, the girls need five hours to get ready?" he asked, thinking it was thoroughly unfair that they were omitted from the dirty work of this glorious day.
Harry shrugged, watching Crookshanks tear by in pursuit of a garden gnome. "What's next on the list?" he asked, looking completely fine with the fact that he was essentially a slave to the whims of his mother today.
"Setting up the chairs, and making sure Fred and George have set up the pavilion for the ceremony," he said grumpily, looking at the tall stack of chairs lying in wait for them.
About an hour later, they saw a large group of people making their way across the yard toward the house. They were all stunning, with shining hair and perfectly chiseled faces.
"I think Fleur's family just arrived," Harry said, nodding in greeting as the group approached.
"Good afternoon," said the man who Ron assumed was Fleur's father. "I'm Pierre Delacour. You must be Ronald."
Ron shook his hand, surprised that the man knew who he was. "Yes, I am. Pleased to meet you."
"My daughter Gabrielle pointed you out, as she did you," he continued, now looking over at Harry. "Harry Potter, I presume?"
Harry nodded and shook the man's hand. Fleur's father smiled at him then introduced the rest of the people behind him. "This is my wife, Marie, and you know Gabrielle, of course." He continued the introductions of the other family members, but the names eluded Ron as soon as Mr. Delacour moved onto the next person.
He saw a tall girl emerge from behind her father, and Ron could have sworn that he was in a time warp. Gabrielle, who had only been seven when he'd seen her last, now looked exactly as Fleur had when she had come for the Triwizard Tournament.
"It is good to see you again," she said in a light, melodic voice that traveled over him like a peaceful wave. He had to remind himself that although she looked like a grown woman, she was only about fifteen or so.
He didn't have to worry, though, because she wasn't even speaking to him. Her eyes were trained solely on Harry, and Ron grinned. There didn't seem to be any end to Harry's magnetism as the hero. Gabrielle was looking at him exactly how Ginny used to look at him when she was a young girl. As if Harry were a white knight on a horse that had come to save her from all the evils of the world.
Harry cleared his throat, and Ron grinned to himself again. Harry had never been good with the idol worship of girls, and it looked like that still held true. He was smiling politely at Gabrielle, who was blushing under her flawless skin.
"Well, my parents are inside, and Fleur is upstairs in Ginny's room. It's the second bedroom on the second floor," Ron explained. Fleur's mother smiled at him graciously, and rushed ahead to see to her daughter on her wedding day. She ordered Gabrielle along with her, and with one last longing look at Harry, she obeyed her mother, turning around several times on her way inside. Fleur's father led the rest of the family into the house, leaving Ron and Harry among the countless chairs.
Ron smirked at the look on Harry's face. "Harry Potter, you're my hero," he said in a high, falsetto voice, which earned him a solid punch in the shoulder.
After all the work was done in the backyard, they headed back to the house to get themselves ready. The ceremony would be starting in a little over an hour, and Ron knew that if they weren't ready at least a half-hour early, his mother would have kittens.
They took turns in the bathroom cleaning up, having to fight off Fred and George who were trying to get in there as well. Ron found his midnight blue dress robes laid out on his bed when he reached the room after his shower, and saw that Harry was already dressed in his old green robes from the graduation dance.
"I thought I wasn't ever going to have to wear these again," Harry sighed, tugging at the loose cuffs around his wrists.
"I know," Ron agreed, putting on his own robes. "Whoever invented dress robes should be cursed into oblivion." He ran a comb through his hair, trying to get it to behave for one evening at least, and finally giving up, they headed downstairs.
As they passed by the second-floor landing Ginny's door opened, and Hermione emerged. She was dressed in flowing robes of a soft, pale green, fitting to her slender body on the top and swirling around her ankles as she moved to close the door behind her.
Ron's breath caught in his chest as he took in her appearance. Suddenly, he was ready to change his former opinion of dress robes.
She was positively stunning. Her hair was done up in an elegant twist, and a few curls had escaped near her ears. She wore practically no makeup, but he had never thought she needed it anyway. Her face was glowing, and when she spotted them, she smiled. The breath that was stuck in his chest escaped, although he couldn't take his eyes off of her.
"Hi," she said, her voice high and excited. "Fleur is all ready, and she looks positively stunning. I can't wait to see Bill's face when he sees her coming down the aisle."
"You look great, Hermione," Harry said into the silence that followed her words. "Doesn't she, Ron?"
Ron nodded dumbly, earning him a jab in his side by Harry. "Yeah, great," he said. He tried to keep his voice level, since it was one thing to be crazy about her, and another entirely to make himself look like a drooling fool at her feet in front of Harry.
"Thank you," she said, smiling softly. "You guys look nice, too." She had addressed both of them, but her eyes were trained on his face alone.
"Thanks," he said, swiping away the invisible wrinkles in his robes. "So do you."
Harry groaned behind him. "Hermione, do you want to come downstairs with us?" he asked, shoving him toward the stairs.
"Sure. I have to meet Terry outside in a few minutes," she said, averting her eyes from Ron's quickly.
The hazy bubble he had been floundering in suddenly popped, reality crashing in harshly. He had forgotten all about Terry. His fists balled at his sides as he thought about Terry being the reason she looked so amazing.
"Okay," said Harry, intervening quickly. "Let's get going then." He gave Ron another shove, and they headed down the stairs.
Hermione headed outside as soon as they reached the ground level, and Harry turned to him.
"Are you going to be okay tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "You should have heard yourself upstairs."
"I'll be fine," he grumbled, thinking of Hermione dancing in Terry's arms all night. "Come on, I have to go find my brothers." He stalked off in search of anyone from his family, Harry following him with a heavy, weary sigh.
Harry had to admit, the backyard looked amazing once the sun began to set and the candles were lit. A low, soft light surrounded everyone as they sat waiting for the ceremony to begin. He saw Ron and his brothers all standing patiently next to Bill, who was shifting from foot to foot every so often, wiping his hands down the sides of his jet black dress robes. He laughed quietly as he saw Charlie roll his eyes and put his hand on Bill's shoulder to try and calm him down.
Hermione nudged his side, chiding him wordlessly for the slight noise she heard coming from him. She was seated next to him, Terry on her other side. Harry had only had a few minutes to talk with Terry before they were told that the ceremony was about to begin, and Harry found him very much the same as he had been in school. Once Terry's shock had worn off from seeing him again, he had politely engaged him in conversation about Bulgaria. Terry had always been an unflinchingly polite person, and Harry wondered if Hermione wasn't starting to grow weary of it.
She had always been surrounded by people who were yelling about one thing or another, and he knew that even she enjoyed a good spar now and then. Terry seemed too tame for her, and although he knew that he was biased, he couldn't help think that Ron was so much better suited for her than Terry ever would be.
The strains of soft music began then, and all eyes swung around to the back of the yard. Gabrielle glided down the aisle, her shining grey dress moving silently with her. When she passed Harry, she gave him a quick look, and he averted his eyes quickly. Hermione smirked at his side, nudging him slightly again. Then, the smirk changed into a genuine smile, and Harry followed her line of vision.
Ginny was making her way down the aisle, clutching a bouquet of red roses enchanted to sparkle along with her dress.
Harry tried to breathe in, but he couldn't. Somewhere along the line, he'd forgotten how.
She was getting closer to where he was seated, and the closer she got, the harder he found it to breathe. Her silky red hair cascaded over her shoulders in countless waves, and with every step she took, her dress swirled around her, sending off a shimmer in every direction.
She appeared to be a walking beam of light, and it made him feel almost ill. His stomach was twisting painfully, and he felt clammy and cool. She passed him without so much as a glance, but he didn't take his eyes off her. He knew his attention should be focused on the back of the yard, waiting for Fleur's entrance, but it was out of his hands. He followed Ginny's procession down the aisle until she reached her brothers and turned to face the entranceway.
Her eyes slid over the crowd, and when they fell on him, he told himself that he should look away before she noticed that he was staring at her.
He didn't move.
Their eyes met, and the most serene smile crossed her face. He blinked, trying to tell himself that it was a trick in the lighting, or that it was all the silliness of the wedding that was making his heart race this uncontrollably.
Still, he didn't move.
He only turned away when he saw everyone rise, and Hermione tugged on his arm to get him to stand up. He looked back at the entranceway, and saw Fleur starting down the aisle on her father's arm. She was unbelievably beautiful; the look on her face making her lovelier than Harry had ever seen her. Her eyes were focused toward the end of the aisle, fastened on her soon-to-be husband.
The ceremony itself was quick, ending about fifteen minutes after it began. The head wizard who had overseen the proceedings presented Mr. and Mrs. Bill and Fleur Weasley, and everyone began clapping as Bill enthusiastically kissed his beautiful bride.
Harry heard Mrs. Weasley sobbing from two rows in front of them, and he saw Mr. Weasley's arm go around his wife. As the new couple made their way back down the aisle the crowd stood, still clapping. Harry saw Hermione fighting valiantly to keep her own tears at bay, and he laughed when he saw Fred wiping at the pretend tears on George's face as they followed their brother and his wife down the aisle.
Ron grinned at him as he walked by with Ginny, but his smile faltered when his eyes shifted and he saw Terry's arm around Hermione's waist. Harry didn't notice much, however, since his vision was completely encompassed by Ginny's stunning smile.
The reception was in full swing about thirty minutes later, although Harry kept clear of the dance floor. Fred and Angelina were dancing wildly, their arms flailing about, earning reproachful looks from Mrs. Weasley.
"Aren't you going to dance at all?" Hermione asked, cradling a small plate of food in her hands. "You always were a pretty good dancer."
"I don't think so," Harry said, shaking his head. "I only danced when you forced me to."
"Well, maybe I'll force you again," she said, waggling her eyebrows.
"Please, don't," he said, casting her a look which she laughed at. She took pity on him and contented herself by swaying to the music as she picked at her food.
"Where did Terry get off to?" he asked, looking around.
"He's talking to Charlie. He's fascinated by the amount of scars that Charlie has from working with dragons," she said, sighing as if she were long-suffering. "Once a healer, always a healer."
Harry's eyes continued to slide over the guests, but stopped when he saw Ginny talking with a younger man off to the side of the buffet table.
"Who's that?" he asked, realizing too late that his voice sounded odd and tight. Hermione gave him a look before she followed his gaze. She raised her eyebrows at what she saw, and smiled.
"I think it's one of Bill's co-workers," she said, her tone indicating her amusement. "What's wrong, Harry? Can't she carry on a conversation with a handsome fellow who appears to be interested in her?"
"Of course she can," he grumbled. "What are you on about?"
"Nothing," she replied lightly, although she turned away from him as she began to smile.
"Excuse me," a voice said from behind them, and Harry turned. A woman that looked very much like Fleur was standing before them, her very blue eyes smiling into his. "I don't mean to intrude, but are you Harry Potter?"
Harry nodded, feeling self-conscious as always at the light scar on his forehead.
The woman smiled, transforming her already lovely face into one of incomparable beauty. Harry reminded himself that if she was related to Fleur she was part-veela, and he gave himself a mental shake to keep his wits about him.
"I'm Fleur's cousin, Alienne," she said, extending her hand to him. "Fleur has told me much about you and your friends."
Harry took her hand, and for a crazy second, he wondered if she was expecting him to kiss it. He looked over at Hermione, who was studying the woman with an even stare.
"I was wondering if you would care to dance." Alienne asked, her shining hair falling into her face slightly as she ducked her head demurely.
"Uh," he stammered, trying to come up with an excuse to remain where he was. She was unbelievably pretty, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself on the dance floor for anyone at this point. "I would, but I don't want to leave Hermione here all by herself."
"Go on, Harry," prodded Hermione. "I have to go and rescue Charlie from Terry anyway," she added, a devilish glint in her eyes.
Harry tossed her a look that she chose to ignore as she backed away from them, wiggling her fingers in a small wave at him.
"Well, what do you say, Mr. Potter?" Alienne asked, her voice lilting and breathy. He nodded at her, and followed her onto the dance floor. She picked up his hand and placed hers on his shoulder.
"I must confess, when Fleur told me you were going to be here tonight, I couldn't wait to meet you," she said, steering him around the floor. "I wanted to see for my own eyes the person who single-handedly saved us from You-Know-Who."
Harry sighed inwardly, not liking the direction this conversation was going in. "I didn't save anyone single-handedly," he commented shortly, trying to convey with his tone that he didn't much care for the topic.
"Oh, and modest, too," Alienne said in a low voice. "You are much more handsome than I thought you would be. Of course, Fleur was quite taken with you when she went to Hogwarts years ago. As is Gabrielle," she added, pointing over his shoulder. Harry turned, following her gesture, to where the young girl was standing, staring out at them with a look of pure jealousy on her face.
"Gabrielle has practically every article ever written about you in a scrapbook," Alienne continued, moving closer to him as they danced. "I would never do anything quite so childish, but I admit, now that I've met you, I understand why she did it."
Harry felt the air around him closing in. He had never met a woman so forward before, and even though she was beautiful, he found it off-putting. His eyes roamed the crowded floor for a possible way out of this awkward situation, and he found Ginny dancing with the man she'd been talking to at the table.
Suddenly, he very much wanted the situation to be reversed. He wanted to be with Ginny, comfortable in knowing that she wouldn't make him feel like an animal in the zoo, to be stared at and admired behind a plate of glass.
He watched her move around the floor in the arms of Bill's co-worker, and a nagging feeling pulled at his gut. She appeared to be having a wonderful time, if the smile on her luminous face was any indication.
He glanced back at Alienne, who was looking at him with an open look of appreciation on her face. He found himself comparing her to Ginny, and although Alienne was part veela, he couldn't get Ginny's face out of his mind.
He looked over her shoulder and saw Ron raise his glass to him from the side of the floor, a huge grin on his face. He took it as an out, and broke away from her gently. "I have to excuse myself. Ron is calling me over," he explained, gesturing toward Ron, who was now looking slightly confused.
"Oh, very well," Alienne said, disappointed, before she fixed a smile on her face and touched his arm. "Go if you must, but I am reserving another dance before the night is over."
"Okay," Harry said, moving away from her as quickly as his feet would carry him.
Ron looked at him strangely as he approached. "What is wrong with you? She's gorgeous, mate," he said incredulously.
"And only interested in the Harry Potter she's read and heard about," Harry grumbled, swiping Ron's drink from him and downing it in one large sip. "That was the most uncomfortable dance of my life."
"Who cares?" asked Ron, baffled by his reaction. "She's bloody gorgeous."
"So you've said," he replied sarcastically. "I just don't want to spend the evening hearing her praise all of my 'heroic' deeds, if you don't mind."
Ron shook his head at him. "You've been too long without a girl, Harry. A beautiful woman is throwing herself all over you, and you brush her off without a second thought."
"Well, then, if you think she's so great, why don't you ask her to dance?" he pushed, waving his hand in Alienne's direction.
Ron rolled his eyes at him. "Sure, because she'd really go for me if she's so hung up on you. I'll spare myself the rejection, thanks."
The song that was playing ended, and Harry saw Ginny excuse herself from her partner and make her way to the tent that housed the refreshments. He noticed that the guy she was dancing with didn't follow her, and suddenly, he wanted very badly to talk to her.
"Ron, I'm going to go get a drink. You want a refill?" he asked, grabbing the empty glass off the table.
"Yeah, anything's fine," Ron replied, his eyes fixed on the far corner of the room. Harry followed his gaze and saw Hermione and Terry standing very close, talking in what appeared to be hushed voices.
"I'll be back in a minute," Harry said. Ron nodded, not taking his eyes off the couple across the room.
When he entered the tent, he found Ginny alone, fixing herself a drink. "Hey," he said, announcing his presence.
"Hey yourself," she said, smiling at him. "Having a good time?"
"Yeah," he replied, moving to stand next to her. "You?"
"Oh, I'm having a blast," she said, taking a long sip of her drink. "Bill and Fleur look so happy, don't they?"
"Yeah," he said again. He wished he could sweep in with some grand line, one that would have her looking at him with the same soft smile that she had given to her dance partner.
"I saw you dancing with Fleur's cousin," Ginny continued, although this time, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "She's absolutely gorgeous."
Harry shrugged. "I guess, but she's not all that interesting," he said.
"I thought guys didn't care whether women were interesting or not, as long as they looked like that," Ginny said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Surely she couldn't have been that boring."
He frowned just thinking about the conversation on the dance floor. "I wasn't bored as much as I was uncomfortable. It was almost like she was trying to figure out whether or not I was real, and it bothered me."
"Harry, every woman you meet is going to be in awe of you at first," Ginny reasoned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. His eyes followed the motion, and for the tenth time that night he realized just how beautiful she was. "You are, after all, a very well-known person."
"But it makes me feel like I'm being studied under a microscope," he said, watching a look of confusion cross her face. "It's a type of equipment that lets you see things incredibly close up," he added in explanation.
A look of sympathy replaced her confusion and she gave him a small smile. "You know, most guys would kill to be in your position. They would use the past as bragging rights to impress women that look like Alienne."
She paused, then placed a hand on his arm. "I'm so glad you're not like that. It makes me even more proud of you than I already am."
His skin felt electrified where her hand rested, and he looked up from it to meet her eyes. "I saw you dancing, too," he said, forcing himself to keep his voice even. "A friend of Bill's, right?"
She removed her hand, and his arm felt suddenly cold. "Yes," she said, picking up her drink again. "He's a junior member of Bill's decryption team."
"Your brothers didn't seem too concerned about you dancing with him," Harry commented, feeling that if the Weasley men weren't going to look out for her, he would just have to do it himself.
"They don't have any reason to be," she said, smiling. "We were just dancing, and he's perfectly harmless. He seems really nice, too, although I think he was trying too hard. He kept telling me that I was being unfair to Fleur, taking away the attention that should be on the bride. It kind of sounded silly after a while."
He frowned at her again, but kept his opinions to himself. Ginny turned toward the entrance to the tent, and she watched the couples dancing by. A smile lit her features suddenly, and Harry turned to see what she was looking at.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were dancing together, looking intently at each other as if they were teenagers all over again.
"Makes you wonder," Ginny mused aloud.
"What?" he asked, studying her closely. She looked so at peace, so happy, that the beauty he had seen in her face all night seemed magnified a hundred times over.
"Do you think you'll ever have that?" she asked quietly, gesturing toward her parents.
Harry considered her question, and realized that he had never, not once, thought that he would have that. "Do you?" he asked, equally as quiet.
"I hope so," she answered, still smiling at her parents. "They amaze me. They've been married for thirty years, and they are more in love with each other now than they've ever been. I can't imagine someone loving me half as much as they love each other."
He stood there, looking at her for what seemed like forever. His gut twisted painfully again as he watched her watching her parents dancing, the softness of her features accented by the low lighting in the tent.
It was then that he realized he was in serious trouble. He was attracted to Ginny, more than he'd ever been attracted to anyone in his life. Just being this close to her was making his thoughts fuzzy, and he set his drink on the table. It was as if somewhere inside him, something had shut down, now making him incapable of turning off all the thoughts he'd been having of her for the past few months. He had thought he'd been getting good doing it, too. Every time she laughed, or touched him in some small way, he had pushed things so far down that he was able to see clearly.
Not anymore.
Standing here with her, just the two of them, he couldn't switch it off. His whole body was reacting to her nearness, and when she turned to look at him, the softness of her smile was his undoing. Her lips drew his gaze, and he took a step toward her without even realizing it.
George entered the tent just then, spotting them and throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. "What are you two doing in here all by your lonesomes?" he asked, a tipsy smile on his face. "You should be out there dancing."
Ginny's eyes met Harry's, then averted to the tent opening. "George, Harry doesn't like to dance, remember?"
"That's bullocks," George sputtered. "Harry just hasn't had the right partner. Although that little French number he was dancing with earlier was pretty damn close." He turned to face Harry and tightened his arm around his neck. "By the way, I was thinking of giving her a dose of the old Weasley charm, if you don't mind."
"Go ahead," Harry answered, his eyes still on Ginny.
George grinned at him. "Yeah, I didn't think you would mind so much. Now, go and give my baby sister a whirl around the floor, would you?" he said, pushing the two of them toward the tent opening. "I've got a couple of cocktails to whip up for a very special lady."
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, and led the way out of the tent. "That woman has no idea what she's in for," she said, shaking her head.
They stopped at the edge of the floor. Ginny looked over at him, and laughed lightly. "You don't have to dance with me, Harry, so you can stop looking so worried."
"I'm not worried," he said quickly.
In truth, he was terrified, but not of dancing. He was terrified of being close to her, and having her realize just what was going on inside his head.
He saw Bill's friend looking at them from across the floor, and as soon as Harry saw him take a step in his direction, he made his decision. He couldn't stand by and watch this guy hold her, not when it was what he wanted to do more than anything right now.
"Come on," he said, extending his hand toward her. She looked at him in surprise for a moment, before slowly placing her hand in his. He walked her onto the floor, and when he turned to face her, he saw something flicker briefly in her eyes.
He put his other hand on her slender waist, and she put hers tentatively on his shoulder.
"I'm not very good at this," he said apologetically. "I'm just warning you now."
She smiled up at him, and all rational thought fled his mind. "I'm not very good either," she said lightly. "So I guess we'll figure this out together."
He pulled her closer to him as they began to move slowly, barely moving their feet in fear that they'd step on each other's toes. At one point, Ginny stumbled a bit to her right, and Harry's arm tightened even more around her. She laughed, her cheeks flushing briefly. "See?" she said, wrinkling her small nose. "The Weasley curse. Two left feet."
He didn't care if she broke every bone in his body, as long as she remained where she was. He could feel her body up against his, and he had to give himself a mental shake to be able to reply.
"If you keep making fun of yourself, the dance is over," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Okay, okay," she said, tightening her grip on his hand when he started to pull away slightly. "I'll just make fun of you then."
He smiled down at her, feeling his emotions spin crazily out of his control. His hand moved from her waist to the small of her back of its own accord, and he felt her shudder slightly.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"No," she said quietly, moving even closer to him. He inhaled sharply, feeling the warmth of her body through his clothes.
This was dangerous, and he knew it. Yet, he couldn't stop himself. There was really no choice, not anymore. He wanted her, and he wanted to be near her.
"Ginny?"
"Hmm?" She slid her gaze over to his, and he lost himself in the smoky grayness of her eyes.
"I know I've said it already, but I wanted to thank you for forcing me to come back here," he said in a low voice.
"I didn't force you to do anything, Harry. You made the decision on your own," she said softly, letting her hand fall down his arm to his elbow.
"No, I wouldn't have come if you hadn't asked," he said, feeling the fuzziness invading his brain again. Her touch was sending shivers up his arm, and he pulled her a fraction of an inch closer.
Another soft smile was her only response, and after a while, their faces grew closer to each other. She put her cheek lightly against his, and the slight contact was enough to send him over the edge.
There was no denying it any longer. Ginny was firmly under his skin, and he didn't want it any other way.
I wanted to get the whole wedding done in one shot, but Harry and Ginny wouldn't cooperate. I decided to split it up into two parts, to give Ron and Hermione their own time. It's only fair…
Please keep reading, and if you feel like doing so, please review. I love to hear from you all.