Ron

Ginny: Chelsea Cake Shop. 14:30.

Me: Wow, thanks for the short notice. Not like I had other plans or anything.

Ginny: Oh, shut it. I know you covered your weekly wedding last night.

Me: So I can't have a personal life, then?

Ginny: LOL don't make me laugh.

Ginny: One more thing...you know how you use a pen name for your professional career?

Me: ...and you use one in your personal life sometimes so people don't know you're a famous female football star?

Ginny: Yeah…

I did not like where this was headed so I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear.

"Please don't!" she answered.

"Ginny, do not tell me that your fiancée only knows you as Jenny."

"What was I supposed to do? My maid of honor, the one who introduced us, only knows me as Jenny. I couldn't just drop a bomb like that in front of them both! I care about her friendship too much!"

"Obviously not enough if you've been lying about your identity for five years. Are you really that distrusting of people?"

"No! It's not that. It's just— Look, my schedule has had me all over the place with training and games that this is the first off season we've spent a lot of time together. I know she's my neighbor, but with our schedules we were lucky to meet up once a month when I was in town. It was just easier, and she became too good of a friend, and a constant in my London life that I didn't want to jeopardize that."

"And now you've got a maid of honor and a fiancée who think you're Jenny Warrington and not Ginny Weasley. That's great Gin, really great."

"Can you please just cover for me today? If the press finds out that Ginny Weasley's getting married, it's going to be a shit storm. I have to keep the cover."

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

"Thanks, Ron." She sounded relieved, but I was still on edge.

"Just be careful. There's a lot of people who might get hurt from this web of lies you've created, including yourself. So don't fuck it up anymore, alright?"

Ginny was rarely ever quiet, but she didn't respond to me right away. That's how I knew I'd gotten through to her. At least that's what I hoped.

"I know," she finally said. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"See you," I said as I hung up the phone.

~o~

I walked into the bustling cake shop and reminded myself that this was business. It was not a family visit, and the two people Ginny said she was going to be with did not know that I was her brother. They'd have to be really dull to not realize it when they saw the two of us next to each other, though. The only major difference was our eye color and height.

As I looked around in search of my sister, I noticed another familiar face. What in the bloody hell was Hermione doing here? Maybe she was with her newly engaged friend, but of all the bakeries in London, what were the odds they'd also choose this one? I forgot to keep looking for my sister as I stopped to watch her conversing with the baker. It seemed like she knew him rather well, which made me wonder if other brides also used this place for their wedding cakes on her recommendation.

I finally saw Ginny come into view from behind a table with several five tier cake displays on it. She was holding hands with a relatively scrawny man with messy black hair and glasses. He didn't look like her normal type, so I guess that could be a good thing.

As Ginny made her way over to Hermione, I felt my eyes widen a bit. No fucking way. Maybe she thinks Hermione works there. Yeah! That was it! Except that it wasn't; Ginny looked up and saw me standing there and waved me over. Fuck.

"Oh good, you're here!" I heard her call.

I watched as Hermione turned around to see who she was talking to. She froze and her face became pale. Ginny's fiancée seemed to have gotten a phone call, and he dismissed himself briefly.

"Hermione, there's someone I'd like you to meet!" I heard Ginny tell her as she grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her over to me. "This is Billy Weston! I spoke to him yesterday about covering our wedding, and he agreed! I was honestly surprised he had the opening in three weeks!"

"Three weeks?" I said as my eyes widened.

She shot me a death glare, and I knew it was a warning to not blow her cover. In my defense, she left that part out in this morning's conversation. So that was on her.

"Yes, three weeks. Remember? I told you that on the phone when we arranged for you to meet us here today." She bulged her eyes out at me in much the same way she did when Mum pissed her off.

"Oh, right. How could I have forgotten. My apologies, Miss Warrington," I said in my most polite business voice.

I flashed a grin at them as my eyes settled on Hermione. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and anger. This probably wasn't good.

"Anyways," Ginny forged on with the conversation, "this is Hermione. She's my maid of honor, and a wedding connoisseur. She absolutely loves your column! A lot of my own ideas and inspiration have come from the articles she's clipped and saved from your writing."

There was sparkle in my sister's eyes as she basically told me Hermione was obsessed with my alter ego. I couldn't help but smile even wider at Hermione, who was shaking her head vigorously at Ginny. This was going to be fun.

"Well, it's always nice to meet a fan. I'm flattered," I said as I held out my hand.

She looked down at my hand in disgust before her eyes shot back up and matched my own. "You can't be Billy Weston. He's so imaginative and romantic and well spoken, and you're so—"

"So what? Please, I'm on the edge of my seat here," I chided. I couldn't help that it was so easy to get her going.

"So cynical and negative and—and that's not even your name! Unless you lied to me when you introduced yourself as Ron," Hermione said with a huff.

"I am Ron Weasley. Billy Weston's just my pen name. Can't have all the crazy column lovers like you be looking me up and stalking me, now can I?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Ginny said, slightly alarmed.

"Barely," Hermione answered before I could explain. "We only met at a wedding a couple of weeks ago," she explained to Ginny. "Can I speak to you in private for a moment?" she rounded on me through gritted teeth.

Oh, here we go, I thought, as I followed her back out the door. I gave Ginny a sympathetic shrug on my way out. The door had barely closed behind us when Hermione let loose.

"You lied to me!"

"No, I didn't," I responded simply.

"Yes, you did! You lied about who you were at the wedding—"

"No, I didn't. I introduced myself using my given name. I am Ron Weasley, and I am a writer. You never asked what I write about, so I never told you."

Who the hell does she think she is? Telling me that I'm the one who lied! I felt my ears growing hot as I was trying to control the anger. I knew it wouldn't be good for either of us if I lost my temper. All the progress I'd made the other night at the bar was already in jeopardy. I needed to focus on the story.

When I looked back at her following my retort, I knew I'd gotten through to her because it took her a moment to regain her thoughts and respond. Ha! One point for Weasley.

"So, which is the real you, then? Are you secretly a romantic on the inside and you just pretend to be a love-hating pain in the arse? Or do you really just hate weddings that much and are ironically stuck writing them?"

That was a loaded question, and one I was not about to answer truthfully outside of a bakery. "What does it matter? I was hired to write commitments, and if I get paid, then of course I'm going to do it. Not everyone has to love their job."

She let out a groan of frustration. "Do you even know how to give a straight answer? Or is that part of your journalism training, too?"

"Guess you'll have to continue getting to know me to find out. Now, technically I'm here to interview Jenny, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get back inside."

I could see my sister watching us through the glass with that dark haired guy staring awkwardly. Oh, right, that's Hermione's boss, too. For a city with over seven million people, this was turning out to be a small, small world.

Hermione

I thought weekends were supposed to be fun and relaxing. This one was anything but that. The cake tasting appointment was a disaster. Not for Jenny and Harry! No, for me. I finally got to meet my wedding columnist idol, and he was the one man I loathed more than anything in the world.

Maybe not quite loathe, but very close. After all, we did have a good time the other night. But he lied to me! He had every opportunity to tell me who he really was, but he didn't. And then Jenny had to go and blab my secret that I loved his articles! Worst day ever.

I put the last plate back in the cupboard when there was a knock on my door. It was probably Jenny. Not bothering to look through the peephole I opened the door. It wasn't. No, it was the last person I had any desire to see. Seriously? What the hell was he doing here?

"Go away," I said as I tried to shut the door in Ron's face.

"Come on, you're not even going to ask what I'm doing here?" he asked.

"No. I know what you're doing here. You've come to lie again," I retorted.

"For the last time, I didn't lie. Come on, Hermione, I just have a few questions to ask about the bride and groom, that's all."

"And you could have easily done that earlier today," I told him.

"Last I checked, you took off before I even had the chance. And since the wedding's in three weeks, we've got a lot to cover in a short amount of time."

I had to admit, Ron was really clever when it came to persuasion. Not that I was surprised; he was a journalist, after all. Knowing he wasn't going to leave me alone, I opened the door a bit wider to let him in. I made sure to shoot an eye roll in his direction to let him know I wasn't pleased.

"Thanks! I can see that 'saying no' thing is really going well for you," he said with a smirk.

Damn him and that lopsided grin. I walked around to the sofa and sat down and he followed, sitting on the opposite side. It wasn't in my nature to be inhospitable. Even if I didn't like the guest.

"I'll have you know I almost said no to being Jenny's maid of honor until she gave me this bangle," I said, holding up my wrist for him to see.

Ron held a voice recorder up to his mouth and clicked it. "Maid of honor folds easily when bribed," he said.

I quickly grabbed it from his hand. "No, the maid of honor actually thought the gesture was really sweet and genuine. Of course she was going to say yes to one of her best friends!"

Ron snorted and I gave him a disgusted look. "Just ask your questions, will you?"

"How did the bride and groom meet?"

I sighed. Because of my stupidity, I thought resentfully. "Do you remember the night you brought me my Filofax at the club? I invited Jenny to join me and they saw each other from across the room. It looked like one of those 'love at first sight' meetings that you see in movies."

"Huh. The hopeless romantic painting a perfect picture. What would you call our meeting, then? Wasn't that some sort of noble act on my part to help the damsel in distress?"

Ron was looking at me in what appeared to be complete seriousness. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not as I felt my jaw drop. After a few moments of awkward silence I burst out into laughter.

"You can't be serious! Sure, it was chivalrous. You almost had me, too, until you started sputtering your wedding hate nonsense in the taxi. I would hardly call you being the first one I saw when I woke up and helping me home 'love at first sight.'"

He laughed along with me. "That was harsh. I did manage to get a date out of it, though."

"It was a moment of weakness," I said defensively.

I watched Ron look away as he shook his head at my strong headed nature. I felt my heart tug against my chest as I noticed how attractive his smile was in profile. No...there was no way I was going to let myself feel anything but annoyance and dislike toward him.

"So, what else do you want to know?" I asked.

He looked back up at me, and I could see the thoughts whirring in his mind through his eyes. Before he asked me anything I saw him freeze as he looked over my shoulder. I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was looking at.

"What is that?" he asked, and was out of his seat before I could respond.

"Nothing!" I said as I leapt up to try and beat him to the closet.

I was barely able to slip between him and the half open doors. It was a constant battle to keep them shut because it was overflowing. As I tried to push my weight against them, Ron leaned in and put his arm against one of the doors, wedging it open against my back. I knew it was a lost cause to even try and hide it, especially after he caught me in two weddings a few weeks ago, so I slid out of the way and let him see the closet's contents.

"Holy shit,' he said with a breathy laugh. "You kept them all? How many are in here anyway?"

"That doesn't matter!" I said defensively.

"What is with brides? This whole mentality that they have to make their bridesmaids wear dresses that are the ugliest thing ever so that they look good? Aren't they supposed to pick their friends? I don't get it," Ron said, shaking his head.

"That's not what it's about at all! Every wedding has some sort of theme, and every bride has some sort of vision that they want the dresses to match. It's different for everyone! And they're not all bad! Some of them are really elegant."

It wasn't a lie. There were some I enjoyed wearing. Others deserved to be burned, but Ron didn't need to know that.

"I dare you to show me one that's not bad," he challenged.

I laughed in his face. "One? Please, that's easy!"

I shooed him away as I turned to the closet and dug my way through the tulle and satin, finally deciding which one would eat his words.

"Ha! See? This one was really nice!" I held the hanger with the dress up against my body as he cocked an eyebrow in my direction.

"I don't know...I think I'd need to see it on," he said contemplatively.

We stood there staring at each other for a moment, until I finally relented. I wanted to prove him wrong, and if this was the only way to do it, then so be it.

"Fine. I'll be right back."

I marched into my room with the dress and shut the door. What was I doing? A man was over at my flat who I didn't know very well, and now I was trying on a bridesmaid dress to prove a point? Ron Weasley was so infuriating, yet when I stopped to really think about it, I was kind of enjoying his company. Arguing just seemed to be our thing.

I zipped up the dress against my back and turned to look in the mirror that was mounted on the back of my bedroom door. It was a strapless black bodice, and the skirt was made of multicolored tulle that splayed out like lightweight feathers. The colors were a mix of pastel pinks and soft blue-greens that cascaded to the floor. A large black bow connected the black top with the skirt.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked back out into my living area, where I saw Ron still investigating the closet full of dresses.

"Well?" I asked.

He turned around to look at me as I posed with my arms out in a question. Before I realized what he was doing, he held up a digital camera and snapped a picture of me in the dress. I didn't even know he had a camera.

"Hey!" I said in protest.

Before I could ask why he'd taken the picture, he said, "You think that's not bad? Hermione, you look like a peacock!" He began sniggering as he motioned for me to turn around in the dress.

"Well, I think the colors complement each other well," I said.

"Come on, Hermione, really? Would you ever wear that dress again?" He gave me a knowing look.

My intention was to dig my heels in and insist that I'd already worn it multiple times. But one look into his eyes and I couldn't lie, so I faltered. "I—I'd wear it if it were shorter. It might be cute for a cocktail party, or maybe a club night," I said as I shrugged.

"See? You know I'm right," he teased. At least, I thought he was teasing.

"Well, this is definitely not the worst one," I told him.

If he wanted a show, I'd give him a show! I turned back toward the closet and grabbed the most hideous dress I could remember, and marched right back to my room to change. "You'd better prepare yourself for this one!" I called.

"I can hardly wait!" he responded.

The dress I chose was a two tone mermaid style that opened up to the knees in the front. The underside was the same yellow-green chiffon as the bust that connected to a halter strap. There was a ruffle of fabric down the bodice to the center of the skirt, which was a bright ocean blue, with sequins that outlined mermaid scales. When I walked out of the room, I was pretty sure Ron's jaw hit the floor, and not in a good way.

"What did you do to piss off that bride?" was all he managed to say.

"It was a destination wedding! In the Mediterranean, on the beach."

"Was it a themed wedding?" Ron asked seriously as he took another picture.

"No!" I laughed. "You want a themed bridesmaid dress? I have plenty! Holiday themes have been popular."

"What? No way. You're not serious," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Oh, but I am," I said as I began pulling out all the holiday themed dresses and carried them into my room.

First, I showed him the Halloween themed dress. It was a bright pumpkin orange with a black spider web overlay, followed by a kelly green dress with matching shoes for St. Patrick's Day. "The bride was from the States and the groom from Ireland," I explained when Ron gave me a questioning look.

There was a Christmas themed wedding I'd taken part in a couple years ago where the dresses were made of cotton with a Christmas plaid pattern. The last I had was a fourth of July themed dress that I walked out in last. The upper half was royal blue and the skirt were alternating red and white vertical stripes.

"I'm sorry, are we in the United States or England?" Ron asked as he looked around at his surroundings.

I couldn't help but laugh. "It was a last minute cancellation of a bridesmaid for a friend's cousin. I flew to Tennessee for the weekend and took part in the most—" I had a hard time remembering the word, but suddenly it came to me, "redneck style wedding."

"Redneck? Do I even want to know?"

"Their words, not mine! It's used to describe rural Americans, I think. I'm not really sure. They were a different type of people, let me tell you. If you could have seen the wedding guests!" I did my best to give him the best possible depiction of that particular wedding, but I think I only succeeded in confusing him more.

"So, which holiday wedding was your favorite?" he asked as I walked over to the kitchen to grab some glasses and a bottle of wine. Alcohol was necessary if we were going to go through that entire closet.

"Well the St. Paddy's Day wedding was quite the good time, as you can imagine. The Halloween wedding was, too, for that matter. Christmas was hard because I didn't get to see my family, and if I can avoid going back to the States for a wedding, I'd be perfectly fine with that."

"Well, they're all certainly special. Though, I'm surprised...no Valentine's Day wedding? Of all the ones you've been a part of?"

He was right! I'd totally forgotten about that one. I stood up quickly from my spot on the sofa and ran to the closet. "Thanks for reminding me. This one's a real gem."

I walked back out minutes later in a bright fire engine red dress with a plunging neckline that revealed more than I was comfortable with. As if that wasn't enough, there was a slit in the front of the long evening gown that came up to mid thigh. I looked briefly in the mirror to make sure everything was covered as appropriately as possible, and ran a hand through my hair before making my entrance

.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "That was for a Valentine's Day wedding? Did the bride want you all to get laid after?"

"I think that was her original plan, yes," I agreed as I felt my cheeks grow hot under his gaze.

I was a bit uncomfortable at the way he was looking at me, but there was a tiny part of me that felt empowered by the way his eyes widened at the sight of me in this dress. Like I was attractive and desirable. Before his eyes could linger too long, I grabbed another set of dresses and disappeared back into my room.

"I call this next set: the pink parade!" I said through the door, before making my appearance in the first frou-frou dress.

"Holy ruffles!" he commented.

I didn't blame his lack of words about the pinkish-coral strapless gown with a beaded bodice. The overly ruffled tulle skirt mimicked that of the mermaid dress with the raised skirt in the front, sans the two tone colors. The second pink dress was two tone, with zebra stripes on the bust and the underside of the skirt.

"Well, that one did have potential. The animal print really ruins it," Ron said with a laugh.

I wasn't sure if it was the wine or just my ability to somehow let loose around him, but I found myself making claw motions with my hands and pretending to 'rawr' in a sexy way. Yeah, I needed to stop that before I did something later that I might regret. The next pink dress looked like it was straight out of a mashup between the eighties and the movie, 'Cinderella.' it was long sleeved with extra poofy shoulders, and the ugliest bodice style I'd ever seen. Oversized bows donned the skirt, which looked like it needed layers upon layers of crinoline to fill it out.

"Where's the hoop?" Ron asked when I came out in it.

"Of all there is to comment on this dress as is, and you ask me where the hoop is?" I responded curiously.

"Do you really want my other opinions on this one?"

"Nope," I said, turning around before he could change his mind.

The last pink dress was a blush one shoulder style that would have been rather becoming if it weren't for the skirt that looked like giant rose petals.

"You look like a cupcake," Ron said, which made me burst out laughing.

"I thought the same thing, actually. Next up, more two tone dresses."

"There's more than two?" Ron asked incredulously.

I showed him the ballroom style hot pink satin outer shell with endless layers of neon yellow crinoline underneath, the orange and camouflage hunting combo with the cowboy boots, and two dual color chiffon dresses. One was a light and dark purple combo with zig zag stripes over the bodice, and the other was coral and seafoam green with a more subtle pattern. The latter needed the subtlety considering the colors clashed enough on their own.

My closet was still a third of the way full after all those dresses, but we both seemed to be having a good time, so I kept the fashion show going. There was the white lace dress, where all the bridesmaids wore white, and the bride wore color, the neon yellow-green rocker dress with the see-through skirt and fur scarf, and the periwinkle blue regency style dress complete with accessories.

"Gloves, purse, and umbrella?" Ron asked with a disbelieving look on his face.

"Accessories are important for any outfit," I said in the most royal voice that I could muster, which sent us both into hysterics.

"What about that black ruffly one?" he asked me.

"Oh, no…" I said, pulling it off the rod and holding it up. "This one was way too short. I'm not trying it on again."

"Ah, we haven't reached that level of closeness yet?" Ron teased.

"Nor will we ever," I said with a triumphant smile.

I held up the dress for Luna's wedding that I wore last weekend, as well as the ones he saw me in for Katie and Parvati's weddings two weekends ago. Then there were only a few remaining after that.

The long lime green gown with the jeweled empire waist, the Renaissance fair inspired brown and gold dress, and a forest green velour maxi dress. The two remaining ones had to do with rainbow themes. There was the indigo satin floor length gown with flowered straps. And how could I forget the final dress, that was an actual rainbow colored bridesmaid gown.

"Don't get me wrong, I love color as much as the next person, but I think this crossed the line," I said as Ron was shielding his eyes from me. Pretty sure you're brighter than the sun. And that's saying something after the lime green dress and that neon fur one."

"Well, you don't have to worry about being blinded anymore as that's the last one," I said, flopping down on the couch next to him.

"Twenty-seven dresses," he said in disbelief. "Why would you put yourself through that torture?"

"It's not torture for me. I genuinely enjoy helping people, and making their day special. And believe what you may, but no matter how awful some of those dresses are, I've made a lot of great memories in them. Plus, I've met a lot of amazing people," I added before I could stop myself.

He looked at me curiously. "What do you mean? The other people in the bridal party?"

"Er, yes," I said quickly.

"Hermione, why does it sound like that's not true?" He really was ever the journalist, always working to uncover the truth.

And it looks like I wasn't convincing enough.

"Because it's not," I admitted. "I run a side business called Wilkins Weddings. I'm essentially a bridesmaid for hire, doubling as a wedding planner for any bride that requires one or both services. That's the real reason I've been in so many weddings."

I had no idea what possessed me to say it. Wilkins Weddings was so personal to me, and I never let anyone in on the secret. Lavender only knew because I needed her sometimes for the business. My dad didn't even know, and he was the second closest person to me. I even had the opportunity last night to tell Jenny and I still hadn't. Yet here I was, pouring my soul out to this man who I barely knew.

"Wow. That explains a lot. So, you take all the stress off the bride all while ensuring their day is perfect? Are you trying to kill yourself before you're 35?"

Of course he was taking the mickey out of me. I shouldn't have said anything. "I don't even know why I told you that. No one knows, and yet somehow I told you, of all people, and of course you're mocking me about it!"

"Look, Hermione, I just think there's more to life than helping other people get married and giving them their perfect day. You've been in all those weddings, had the chance to meet countless people, and you're still single? Are you even trying to find your own happiness?"

I couldn't believe him! How could he say any of that to me! He didn't know me at all, and that just proved it. "Of course I want to find someone to love and marry and spend the rest of my life with! They're out there, I know it. They just haven't noticed me yet." I grabbed both the empty wine glasses on the coffee table and brought them to the kitchen.

"It's getting late. You should probably go," I said.

"Right. Well, thanks for tonight. It's been fun. I'm sure I'll see you soon. What with the wedding and all," Ron said as he grabbed his bag and walked to the door.

"Yeah. I can't wait," I said sarcastically.

He flashed me that lopsided grin of his as he let himself out. I waited a moment before I locked the door behind him. It was all fun and games until I remembered the massive mess of dresses I now had to clean up.

As I carried groups of dresses back to the closet and hung them up, I couldn't help but wonder when I'd finally get to add a wedding dress to the mix. Figuratively of course, since I'd be sure to have my dress preserved. I've been ready and waiting for my own happily ever after my whole life, and I was becoming frustrated. I hoped that someday soon I wouldn't have to spend every night alone.