Disclaimer: Here's to Harry Potter and Co., whom I do not own. Here's to Jo, who I am not.
"Ginny! You 'air going to tear my beautiful gown if you 'air not careful!"
"Well, Phle-... Fleur, if you would just hold still for onesecond, maybe I could finishing buttoning your 'beautiful' gown!"
Ginny had had about as much as she could stand. Being forced to help Gabrielle and Fleur's other bridesmaids (friends from school) help Fleur prepare for the ceremony, the sequins, the gold silk, the high-heeled shoes, the lipstick that had to be applied just so...if anyone, meaning Fleur, made her practice her "bridesmaid walk" one more time, she was going to scream. Really. In fact...
"Ginny, I reelly zink you zhould practeece your bridesmaid..."
"ARGH," Ginny shouted, and made as quick an exit as she could while attempting to keep her balance in her silver ballroom dancing shoes. She nearly stumbled and had to grab the bathroom door frame for support. "Bloody shoes...," she grumbled as she pulled them off. Not knowing where else to go, and not wanting to encounter anyone or anything involving the wedding, she stalked upstairs to her room. She almost slammed the door shut, but didn't want to attract attention, but she needed to relieve her stress. So instead she picked up her wand and started practicing the bat-bogey hex, imagining casting it on Fleur. After the 17th time, she grew bored, and was just deciding whether or not to go sneak another hors d'oeuvre when she heard people talking outside, just below her window, which had been left open. She paused to listen, and this is what she heard:
"Ron, what in the world do you think you're doing! The ceremony begins in one hour! You should be inside preparing!"
"Mum, it's not like I have to put on makeup or anything."
"Well, I'm sure there's something useful you could be doing, instead of standing around out here doing nothing!"
"I'm not doing nothing!"
"Well, what are you doing then? It certainly looks like nothing to me."
"I'm waiting for Harry."
Harry.
Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. Her Harry.
Ginny's heart did a backward somersault the instant she heard his name. No, she hadn't forgotten he was coming. She had thought about him every day since Dumbledore's funeral. No, every hour, including during her sleep at night, which she wasn't getting much of these days...
But she had tried to push him out of her mind, because if she didn't she wouldn't have been able to function, let alone put up with Fleur's nagging and her mother's touchiness. But when she heard her brother say his name, all the emotion she'd been trying to keep at bay came flooding back. It drowned out everything else: her annoyance with Fleur, her impatience with the wedding preparations, everything.
But the voices kept drifting up through her window, and her sense of hearing was still working...
"Waiting? You call that something? Harry has been here before, Ronald. He doesn't need an escort. What are you really doing out here?"
"Waiting for Harry."
"I don't have time for this...," her mother grumbled as she left earshot of Ginny's window.
Ginny flopped down onto her bed. She'd known Harry would be there. Why did she suddenly feel so exhausted? Maybe she really did need another hors d'oeuvre...
Rapraprap
The sound was soft, but sudden, and it made Ginny jump off her bed and automatically snatch up her wand. But then a voice sounded form the hallway outside her door.
"Ginny dear, all the bridesmaids need to be on the lawn now. Fleur wants to rehearse the "bride's party's entrance" one more time."
"Come in, Dad."
Her father opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. Ginny almost gaped, but caught herself just in time. Her father looked...handsome. He was wearing perfectly ironed dress robes. His hair was perfectly combed and parted, and his shoes were polished to such a perfect shine, they could have functioned as mirrors. And his face...was red enough to rival Ron on his worst day.
"Dad, you look...smashing."
Her father's face turned redder, if that were possible.
"Thank you, Ginny. You look beautiful," he paused for a moment before continuing, "I think I can guess why your hiding in here. Is it Phlegm?"
Ginny laughed out loud. Her father never used her nickname for Fleur. In fact, he discouraged her from using it. Phlegm must be getting to him today too.
"Yeah, that's right. Did Mum send you up here?"
"That she did. And I guess we'd better be getting down there now, or...I don't like to think of what your mother might be capable of right now, she's so high-strung. Come on, dear."
"Alright."
Ginny and her father walked downstairs together, through the back door, onto the lawn, and into Wonderland.
Beautiful oak pews had been conjured and arranged in two columns with an aisle running up the middle, leading to the giant living oak at the back of their yard. Under the tree's giant canopy stood a gazebo about 15 feet in diameter. It positively shined with a pearly radiance that made Ginny wonder how it could be standing there, in their cluttered, overgrown backyard. But wait, the lawn was immaculate, the grass was so well tended it could have been astroturf. Birds were pecking at the ground, making disgruntled little cheeps since they couldn't find a single seed or worm on the squeaky clean greenery. One of them flew up onto the top of the gazebo, drawing Ginny's gaze. She then noticed that the gazebo had been draped with gold and silver silk bows and finery all around its perimeter. Bows graced the ends of the pews, and the aisle looked as if someone had sprinkled gold and silver glitter all down its length, which, come to think of it, someone probably had.
"Ginny, what are you doing! Come over here right now!"
Her mother called from somewhere to her right, where Fleur and the other bridesmaids were also waiting. Ginny walked over...and felt the grass under her feet.
"Oh, Mum, I'm sorry, I left my shoes upstairs. I'll be right back." She hurried back into the house as quickly as she could. She had never heard such rigid tenseness in her mother's voice, and didn't want to get on her bad side right now. Flying up the stairs and dashing into her room, she reached down inside the door to pick up her shoes...and heard a voice outside, under her window again. And because of the nature of this sound, she instantly forgot her mother's increasingly raw nerves and listened as closely to it as she ever had to anything.
"I will never, never, get used to that." the voice panted.
And her brother's voice replied, laughing, "Good to see you, mate. Be glad you didn't come any earlier. Mum's been acting as if she's ready to blast everyone all the way to London and back. How've you been, anyway...considering?"
"As well as can be expected."
There was silence positively saturated with meaning.
"How long until the ceremony begins?"
"About an hour."
"I guess I should get ready then. You got the, er..."
"Mum go the money you sent and used it to buy you the best set of dress robes she could find."
"Great."
Ginny knew it was hard for her brother to talk about money, in any context, with Harry. And she knew he was trying not to show it.
"We should hurry, or Mum will throw a fit."
"Alright."
The sound of hurried footsteps reached Ginny's ears, followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting. The footsteps made their way up the stairs, past her bedroom door, and further upward, toward Ron's attic room.
Why had she come up here again? Oh, right, the shoes...
She picked up the hated objects and hurried back downstairs and out the back door.
"Your mum really knew what she was doing, didn't she?" Harry queried as he examined his reflection in Ron's dirty full-length mirror.
"Yeah, you can really count on Mum for things like this."
Silence.
"I guess we should be getting downstairs."
"Yeah"
More silence.
Neither moved. They both just stood there, pretending to examine Harry's reflection in the mirror, though both their minds were elsewhere. Suddenly, the sound of sweet flute music floated into the house from the backyard. Harry started. That hour sure soared by.
"Don't worry. They're just rehearsing...again."
"Rehearsing? What do they have to rehearse?"
"The bride's party's entrance."
"Oh. Wait...who's in the 'bride's party?'"
"Fleur's sister, some of her friends from school...and Ginny."
Ginny.
Brave Ginny. Smart Ginny. Bat-bogey-hex-expert Ginny. His Ginny.
Suddenly, Harry felt very stupid wearing fancy, creased dress robes, his hair a mess, as usual, his glasses slightly askew...
"You alright, mate?"
"What? Oh, yeah, sure, I'm fine."
"We should be getting downstairs."
"Right. Let's go."
When the pair walked into the backyard, no groom, bride, or bridesmaids were to be seen, but the guests had started to arrive in earnest and were seating themselves in the perfectly parallel pews. Harry and Ron sat in the third row on the right, where the groom's party and friends were to sit.
"Who's work is this?" Harry queried, indicating the gold and silver finery.
"I think the bride herself."
"It figures."
Ron chuckled. It felt good. He hadn't had much to laugh about these past few weeks. Had it really been only a few? It felt like, like...a lot more. His brother was getting married, his best friend was enduring mental and emotional torture, and he...well, he hadn't exactly been carefree this summer. He tried to help Harry feel better, and he tried not to be a burden to his mother, he tried...not to chuckle derisively at the sentimental, romantic piano music that began to permeate the air. The ceremony had begun.
Hope you liked it! More to come!