A/N: I have some personal theories about what happened in HBP that will be included in this. I'm really glad that some of you are reading it! Again, forgive the grammatical/spelling errors. I do not have a Beta Reader, nor do I have MS Word.
Disclaimer: Characters owned by J.K. Rowling. Thanks.
"Wizard's Wedding"
Sometime during the night, Harry must have fallen asleep for strange things came to him in the form of a dream. At some point, Harry was talking to Dumbledore's ghost with his mother and father in the background, then floating Death Eater masks swarmed around him and smiled eerily at him. A voice called out to him. "Harry... Harry!" He was being shaken and everything in his little dreamworld was being torn apart.
Harry opened his eyes to find Ron hovering over him. He jumped out of the camp bed, frightened, until he registered where he was, what had happened, and who it was that was standing next to him. Harry gave a sheepish smile to his best friend and apologized for being so jumpy. It wasn't as though Ron hadn't expected it, however. Everybody was a little jumpy after what had happened.
"Mum said breakfast is ready. Everybody's down there but us."
Nodding, Harry opened his trunk and grabbed a change of clothes. "Is Hermione here?"
At this, Ron's face, neck and ears flushed. "No, not yet." He scratched the back of his neck and attempted to look nonchalant, but Harry knew better. "She's staying at home for a while... getting her parents used to her going off on her own and all, explaining what happened to them over the year. She said to send word when we were ready and all and she'll be over here in an instant."
Harry was sort of jealous at Ron and Hermione's relationship. They were perfectly able to be together because they were facing dangers together but he could never be with Ginny. She was too young to be exposed to what he, Ron and Hermione were about to embark on. He couldn't risk her life just because he wanted to be with her. That would be selfish. Not to mention, he didn't know how to be in a relationship as he'd never really been involved in anything as rewarding and pleasurable. His stay with the Dursley's was not in any way, shape or form something of a relationship. It was simply a place to stay, a house, while Hogwarts had become his home.
They set down the stairs and upon entering the kitchen, Harry spotted Fleur and Bill, whose face was still mangled and mutilated, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George and Ginny. His heart skipped a beat at seeing Ginny. She gave him a friendly smile, but her eyes flashed dangerously at him. He'd broken her heart... but did she know that he'd broken his as well?
"Morning," he said. He was greeted with several sleepy replies and a weak, half-hearted smile from Ginny. "I didn't know Fred and George were here."
Fred shrugged. "Normally we'd be at our flat above the store in Diagon Alley but we felt that it'd be best to stay at home for a while. Y'know. Help keep care of Bill and all, but Fleur's doing a fine job of that herself," he added when a reproachful look came his way from the part-veela that was soon to marry his eldest brother.
"When's the wedding?"
Fleur giggled. She was getting impatient, waiting for her big day to come and Harry could tell. "Eet eez in une week, 'Arry."
It was really happening. Bill and Fleur were still going to get married, despite Bill's recent injuries and the looming threat of Death Eaters rounding on their heels. In a way, Harry envied them like he envied Ron and Hermione. It must be great, having someone - someone who'd go into battle for and with you, though he somehow doubted that Fleur Delacoure would hastily jump into battle, but after seeing her with Bill, he didn't really doubt that she would. It seemed obvious that she really loved him. The fact that she was still marrying him, despite his contorted looks proved that she wasn't as much as a prude as everyone figured. In one week Bill and Fleur would be married and while Harry knew what marriage was all about, he didn't know whether or not Wizards held traditional marriages, like the sort in Muggle movies or had some sort of magical ceremony. Harry didn't really know anything about marriages. He'd never been to a wedding, though the Dursley's had on numerous occassions. He was always left at home.
If Harry and Ginny were a little bit older and things were different, would he ever ask her to marry him? He sat in awkward silence at the Weasley's kitchen table, staring down at his food and trying to avoid eye-contact with the girl he'd spent his last few weeks with at Hogwarts. There was a prickling on the back of his neck and he looked over to see Ron watching him. He didn't need to ask to know what he was saying. "Don't think about it." Ginny was off-limits.
The silence that'd settled into the kitchen at the Burrow was not entirely uneasy. There was certainly a reason for it; everyone had faded away into their own little thoughts about the days to come and what it was that they were going to do about it. The Weasleys, along with Fleur and Harry, ate their breakfast without saying much at all and Harry felt somewhat grateful for the silence. It helped to settle his nerves a bit and he didn't know what to say if the subject of he and Ginny came up.
Or if he had to talk to Ginny at all, for that matter. It simply... hurt.
Ron excused himself from the table to owl Hermione with Pigwidgeon and Ginny left the table soon after. Harry finally looked up from his plate to find six sets of eyes gazing down on him. He felt his throat go dry, and he suddenly became aware of just how stupid he must look since he hadn't bothered to comb his hair for the past few days. "Er..." he said. It was because of Ginny, he knew it. "Listen. I just don't want to get her involved in anything, y'know? I don't want to put her in any sort of danger..."
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry felt his face grow hot. Maybe they weren't going to talk about Ginny after all, but he was sure they knew about their relationship. "No, this isn't about you and Ginny. We think... us, being the Order, that you're as ready as you'll ever be to join. Ron and Hermione too, but we want you to think about this before you do anything rash. You know what going into the Order is going to be like, Harry so we figured..."
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley." Being in the Order was what he wanted just two years ago, but something about it seemed unappealing at the moment. Sure, being involved in the Order meant that he knew many inside things, but there was also rules, regulations... and the need for them to guarded everywhere. For what Harry planned to do, he didn't want to be followed. All he needed was Ron and Hermione at his side, his wand, and the knowledge that Dumbledore had given him before his ultimate ending. Being with the Order meant being tied down.
He smiled rather weakly, looking at those around the table. Bill, with his hopeful, sadly disfigured face, Fleur with her beauty, Fred and George staring incredulously at their parents, Molly Weasley with her worried expression and slimming figure and Arthur Weasley with his look of hope and concern. "I'll think about it."
Harry excused himself from the table and climbed back up the stairway to Ron's room. His friend was putting the finishing touches on his letter and was rolling it up when Harry entered the room. Ron flushed, tied the letter to Pig's tiny leg and threw the owl out of the window.
"Was that a love letter?" Ron's face turned scarlet. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Shut up, Harry." Ron threw himself onto his bed and folded his arms beneath his head. Harry stood next to the door, leaning on the wall. "Hermione'll be here for the wedding. She'll probably stay with her parents until then."
"If I had parents, I'd probably spend all the time I could with them," Harry said. He picked up his Firebolt from it's resting spot on top of his trunk and slung it over the back of his shoulder. "Wanna play some Quidditch?" he asked and Ron nodded, grabbing his own broom, the one his mother bought him before fifth year for his becoming a Prefect.
They walked into the open land at the Burrow, grabbing random objects to use as "balls" for their game. Fred and George had accompanied them when Ron asked them if they wanted to play as well. Ron had asked Harry if he minded if Ginny played, but the look on Harry's face told Ron otherwise.
After a rousing game of Quidditch (during which Harry was smacked against the head from betwitched apples acting as Bludgers more than once), the three Weasleys and Harry hiked back into the Burrow for lunch and after that, Ron and Harry spent the afternoon and part of the evening weeding and de-gnoming the garden. Then, spent and exhausted, the two fell asleep before dinner.
While Harry and Ron experienced somewhat lazy days during the next week at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fleur and Bill were extremely nervous and busy, putting the finishing touches on the wedding before the big day was there. The ceremony was going to be held at the Burrow and only a couple of close family friends were going to be invited, for security reasons and because they wanted to have a small, intimate gathering instead of a large, rauceous group.
Ginny was so on edge that Harry steered clear of her the entire week, making effort to keep out of whatever room she was in. Mrs. Weasley wasn't much better, as she tended to snap at the littlest of things. Harry found her scrubbing the wooden table in the kitchen so viciously that the one area she was working on was strangely discoloured from the rest of the table. Fleur was strictly worried about her appearance and Bill was nervous about the entire thing. Harry didn't blame him, though. His wounds were still fresh from the accident.
Quicker than he had expected it, the Saturday of the Wedding had rolled around and Harry found himself staring down at his dress robes feeling awkward and unsure. Hermione had arrived earlier that morning - she Apparated from home and ended up in the Weasley's garden. Ron ran out to greet her and Harry found himself staring out the window, watching them locked into a welcoming embrace. He felt bad that he was spying and angry that he was getting jealous - not because he wanted Hermione, but because he wanted Ginny. Harry put on his dress robes, tried to tame his hair and failed miserably. With a sigh, he set down to the kitchen and met Mrs. Weasley sitting at the kitchen table that she'd practically ruined earlier from her over-exuberant cleaning spree.
Tears flooded her eyes and she tabbed them gingerly with an old hankerchief. She looked up at Harry's entrance and gave a small, forced smile.
"Are you alright, Mrs. Weasley?" He sat down at the table across from her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's nothing Harry. It's just... my Bill's getting married today. I'm so proud of him. Fleur's a wonderful girl, don't you think, Harry?" He remembered how, only last summer she was keen on getting rid of her and getting Tonks to take her place. It came as a surprise to everyone to find out that Tonks was in love with Remus Lupin, a werewolf and an ex-Hogwarts Professor that was several years older than Tonks. Age didn't really matter in the Wizarding World, though, as magical people tended to live for many, many years. Dumbledore was well over 150 years old before he passed away, and he'd been killed. He would've had several more years of life if nothing had happened.
"You know, Harry. I'm gaining another daughter and I couldn't be happier." She stopped to dab off a couple more tears. "I heard about you and Ginny. Why haven't you been talking this week? She's liked you for a very long time and somehow I always knew that the two of you would get together. You've always been like one of the family, Harry..."
By then, she was positively wailing. Harry had trouble understanding what she was talking about until Mrs. Weasley proclaimed, "Oh, I must look absolutely horrible." A knock sounded at the kitchen door. "And look, guests are beginning to arrive." Mrs. Weasley said a little spell that fixed her running makeup and went to the door, asking her special enterance questions and letting in Tonks, Lupin, Moody and Kingsley Shakelbolt.
"Hullo, Harry," said Tonks. Her hair was long and blonde today, somewhat resembling Fleur's. She and Lupin were dressed in matching dress robes of forest green, and standing next to them in a dark blue was Moody, while the hulking Kingsley Shakelbolt wore a dark shade of peweter gray. They entered the kitchen and took a seat around the kitchen table, greeting Harry and asking Molly about the plans for the wedding.
"Charlie should be here any second. He's bringing a friend from Romania with him, he's told me so much about her... and Minerva is going to perform the ceremony since... since Dumbledore's passed on..."
Silence settled around the table to give a moment of peace for the fallen Dumbledore. It was broken by another knock on the door. Molly Weasley got up to answer the door and asked "Who is it?"
"It's Charlie!" claimed a voice on the other end of the foor. Mrs. Weasley asked him his question and opened the door to let him in when he'd answered correctly.
Charlie Weasley entered his old home with a girl that Harry had never seen before - an olive skinned, dark-haired woman with bright, encompassing eyes that Harry felt drawn to. Charlie introduced her as his friend, a colleague from the Dragon Fields where he worked. He didn't quite catch her name - it was something intoxicatingly foreign.
Mrs. Weasley shook the girl's hand. Mr. Weasley called out for Mrs. Weasley, and she excused herself into the garden that Ron and Harry had spent a painstaking amount of time in, fixing it up before the wedding. Moments later, the group in the kitchen was beckoned out into the garden.
Everyone was there. Sitting in a large clump were several people that Harry had never seen before, all with either flaming red hair or whispy, white hair that came with growing age. He didn't need to ask who they were; they were apart of the Weasley family, no doubt. Harry gave them a small smile as he sat down beside Ron and Hermione. Professor McGonagall stood before the group on a large raised platform that had not been there earlier.
Bill stood at the bottom of the platform, dressed magnificently in silver dress robes with some sort of design etched on the fabric. He was smiling as best as he could with his deformed facial features. His mouth had been injured in the fight, and his lip had been irreversably scarred. Harry felt extreme pity for him, the man who was once the most handsome person he'd met had been reduced to a scar-covered, nervous man, waiting for his bride to walk down the garden path. Some part of Harry wanted to tell him to run the other way - maybe it was because Ginny had just sat down beside him, but Bill was still handsome. His personality had not changed. His view on life had not changed. Nothing about Bill had changed except his facial features.
Where there would have been music in any traditional muggle wedding, there was an awe-stricken silence as Fleur set down the garden path to join her loved one at the bottom of the raised platform. Her hair was done up, topped with the Goblin-Wrought tiara that Mrs. Weasley had mentioned in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts while watching over her eldest son and tending to his injuries. She looked simply lovely and her veela attraction caught Harry off-guard. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, wishing, hoping she'd make some sort of eye-contact with him. He wanted to jump up, grab her and run off back down the garden with her.
Beside him, Ron must have been the same way for he heard a slapping noise and Hermione's voice saying "Really, Ron. She's going to be your sister-in-law!"
Fleur joined Bill on the bottom of the platform and grabbed ahold of his hands. They stared at each other as McGonagall raised her wand.
"At times like these," she began, "it is important to have love in your life. Love is a power that knows no boundaries - it's a power that cannot be broken, but can be challenged. Overcoming such challenges makes this power stronger, something that evil cannot touch because evil does not know how to love. The presence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is everywhere. At each and every corner, with every step we take, there is the chance that danger will suck us into it's black, inescapable vortex. But we stand here, now, celebrating love. Love is the only power that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cannot conquer or control."
Harry's mouth had gone dry. That's what Dumbledore had told him and so far, it'd been true. He looked down and saw Ginny's arm wrap around his own. Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
"William Arthur Weasley, do you vow to love Fleur Renee Delacour, through all these trials and tribulations that try us with every waking day? Will you love her unconditionally and protect her from the evil that may come?" Her wand was resting on their clasped hands, it's power seeping into them. Bill said "I will," and scarlet and pink sparks flowed through the tip of the wand, snaking around Bill and Fleur's hands, their arms, their bodies. It entwined around them.
Professor McGonagall asked the same question to Fleur and at her answer, more and more sparks covered them. The vines of magic drew the two together, face to face. Bill pressed his lips against Fleur's, and the magic exploded into heart-shaped confetti, raining down and around them. Professor McGonagall smiled down on them.
Harry looked over at Ginny and saw tears streaming down her face. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he gave her hand another squeeze. She looked over at him, using her free hand to smear the tears from her eyes and cheeks. Harry used his thumb to wipe away the tears that she'd missed and Ginny let out a loud sob, buring her face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as Bill and Fleur's wand tips were placed together and an odd sort of glowing surrounded them once more.
Everyone in the crowd except for Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione raised their wands into the air to shoot off a wide variety of sparks that looked like the muggle equivalent of fireworks. Ginny sobbed even harder into Harry's shoulder, and he felt her tears dripping hot onto his shoulder through the fabric of his robes.
"May your marriage bring you many happy times and many happy red-haired children!"
Yes,What we need is to be happy, despite everything, despite the pain and burden and... but I'll never have that. Not while Voldemort is alive. I won't feel complete until he's dead and gone.
And though he felt almost whole and complete while holding Ginny against himself, he'd never felt lonlier in his life.