Disclaimer…I don't own anything
Author's Note…I wrote this while I was in an extremely fluffy mood. Seriously, marshmellows were practically falling out of my ears. Ok, rave, flame, find a happy medium, just leave some sort of review, please!
Because Fate was a simply evil force that hated Harry with a vengeance, and also because Fleur decided that Ginny absolutely must wear high heels, thereby making her a small inch shorter than Harry, the former couple had to walk down the aisle together.
Former, Harry decided, was not the correct word to use. They weren't previous, they weren't over, they weren't past. Though they weren't present either. But they were future. Harry wouldn't be at all surprised if he were to learn that there had been a second prophecy made about him, one that firmly declared that Ginny was his one and only. They might never see each other for the rest of their lives, but they would always be together, forever intertwined even though they were miles and miles apart.
Actually, at the moment, they weren't miles and miles apart; they were barely inches and inches apart. Her hip was brushing up against his; her hair squished between their shoulders. With Hermione, Ron, all the Weasleys, all the Delacours, plus various family friends, it was an extremely crowded altar.
The old wizard that was leading the ceremony began to swish his wand back and forth between a beaming Bill and an extremely anxious looking Fleur. Harry had been to two entire weddings in his life, but that was enough to know that somehow; the bride and the groom had swapped emotions and state-of-mind.
In times of plenty and in times of want.
Want what? Security? Fidelity? Love? Or was the bearded wizard merely talking about material things…food, money, shelter? Physiological versus psychological; you can want and have both, but only one you could live without. You just don't want too.
In times of sickness and in times of health.
Harry invisibly winced as he imagined a marriage full of disease. But again, what kind of disease? Of the body, or of the soul? There are two different kinds of hearts, you know. One was a muscle which is vital to survival. The other is actually a person who is vital to survival.
In times of joy and in times of sorrow.
How unlucky for Bill and Fleur that their beautiful union, their holy matrimony, was being originated in a time of sorrow. It certainly wasn't an auspicious beginning. But, Harry thought, maybe this wedding is a type of insurance that they'll stick together through this patch of life. Maybe all weddings are.
In times of failure and in times of triumph.
This was where it hit closest to home. At that small stitch of time, Harry made the decision that he would win this war. He would search for the Horcruxes, find them, destroy them, destroy their maker, and then he would go home, wherever that may be. Then, he would find Ginny, and eventually tell her that he would stick with her through every possible time that this bearded wizard could think of.
Satisfied with his verdict, Harry released the death grip he had encased Ginny's hand in, and it wasn't until his own hand fell limply to his side that he realized that he couldn't remember when it had started.
For all of eternity.