Chapter Eight: Arthur Weasley and the Walk Down the Aisle

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Arthur pushed open the door to his daughter's room — his nineteen-year-old daughter, his baby girl. She was still far too young to get married. She was, in many ways, still his little girl and he had so many hopes and dreams for her. Even if she was positive that all her dreams had come true, he still wanted so much more for her. She had her dream job and was marrying the man she loved so, as she had put it when he had raised questions about whether she was too young, why should she wait for things to go wrong again? Especially after everything they had already been through. She felt that she should seize every moment that she could. While he couldn't help but agree with her and admire her spirit, he could not help feeling that a wait of a few years would not be too much to ask.

She was still too young, still just his little girl.

And more than that, he did not want to lose her yet, even if it was to Harry.

Selfishly, he still wanted to be the first person that she ran to and told all about her day. He wanted to be the first person that she smiled at in the morning. He wanted to be the person that she shared her jokes with. Deep down he knew that those days were long gone, but without the illusion of his daughter being married, he'd actually managed to delude himself from time to time.

Now all the delusions were going to be gone.

She really was of age, grown up and about to be married.

He paused and studied the room.

The room still looked the same as it had done for all those years of her growing up. It still had the same pale yellow coloured walls that they had painted it when Ginny was a baby. It still had Ginny's old Hogwarts trunk resting against the end of her bed, as if she'd just come home for the holidays, although most of the content had changed in it. It was the very bed that she had been sleeping in since she was five years old and had demanded that she needed a big girl bed. There was still the notice board with a mess of family photos, the U-Know-Poo flier that she had 'liberated' from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, her ticket to the Quidditch World Cup final and the scarlet and gold flag containing the Gryffindor lion. There were still the same posters on the wall, the Holyhead Harpies ones which, despite now playing for them, she had never got around to taking down, and the Weird Sisters one.

Everything in the room pointed to the fact that this was still a teenager's room. It was just as it had been while she had still been at school. It felt strange that everything was still the same, that there were still so many signs in here that his little girl was still that, a little girl; surely it should look like a different room today.

Yet there was one very, very noticeable difference in the room.

And that was Ginny herself.

"Ginny," Arthur said softly.

His little girl stopped looking out the window, the window whose sill she had sat on so many times, much to her mother's fear that one day she would fall, and turned round. Only, she did not look like his little girl anymore. She wasn't the little girl who had ridden on his shoulders nor was she the same little girl that he had tucked into bed and told The Tales of Beadle the Bard fairy stories to. Neither was she the little girl whose problems could be solved with a kiss and a hug. The little girl who would follow him round the house had grown up. No, Ginny wasn't little anymore, she was far from it.

He could feel his heart pounding, swelling with every movement, pride filling his every cell.

Arthur watched as her white wedding dress swept across the floor. Ginny's long, vibrant red hair fell down her back; against others' suggestions, she had decided to wear it down, as that was how Harry liked it, and then there were those bright brown eyes that now looked straight back him. Every day she was growing to look more like her mother and that had never been the case more than today. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn he had just stepped back thirty years.

He had been aware that she had been growing to look like her mother over the last few years but was never sure when the transformation had started. When had she started to grow from that little girl into the beautiful woman who was now starting before him?

Arthur felt himself gulping. Today was going to be hard, but then, nothing with his highly spirited and opinionated daughter had ever been easy; she had made sure of that.

It had been hard enough to accept that she was growing up, let alone to watch her fight in a war, play professional Quidditch and, now, get married. It was hard not to look at her and just see his little girl who needed him staring back at him, the one who had used to fall over in the garden as she chased her brothers around and let him pick her back up. Those days were gone now. Instead, she had become this remarkable, brave, intelligent and beautiful young woman, a woman he felt humbled to know, let alone being able to say that she was his daughter. "Proud" was such an understatement when it came to describing her to people.

She was every part a match to Harry. A young man many wizards would give their wand arms to let their daughters marry. He was remarkable, brave and intelligent, as the Daily Prophet included every time they used his name in an article, and as everyone knew, the Hero of the Wizarding World. But he was also humble, witty and ever so caring. What was most important, and the reason he had no reason to object when Harry had asked his permission all those months ago, was that he loved his daughter with every single part of him and would not even think of looking at another witch.

Knowing all this, he knew that he should not be feeling nervous about letting her go, but reason was not playing a large role in how he was feeling at the moment.

"Hey, Dad," she whispered back just as softly, her voice barely carrying, as if she was slightly worried or nervous. "I was just, y'know, watching everyone, it's really getting going down there, it kinda looks like it really is ready to go. I'll have to remember to thank Mum for all her help later."

"She wouldn't have had it any other way, Ginny." He smiled at her as he spoke, remembering all the arguments of the last month in particular. Weasley women could be very hard to live with at times and Harry definitely had his work cut out for him. Maybe it was good that Ginny was marrying an Auror and not someone with a much more mild-mannered job. "And she has had a lot of fun, so don't let her tell you otherwise."

"I know," Ginny still spoke in the soft tones that sounded very strange coming out her mouth since she used the fiery ones so often, "still, it's pretty amazing."

"It is, and they are almost ready for the star attraction — they are almost ready for you," he smiled at her.

Ginny gulped. Obviously, he wasn't the only one feeling nervous today; her voice was even shaking a little. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Arthur crossed the small room and looked directly into her brown eyes. For a moment, brown and blue just met and no words were spoken — there wasn't any need for them. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. No, better than okay, I'm good. Actually, I guess I'm better than good, too." She smiled nervously as she let her words ramble together. "I mean, I've done things more scary than this, much scarier, much harder and I'm living every girl's dream today, right?"

Arthur returned her smile.

Ginny hardly ever showed nerves, and it was rather endearing and reassuring to see them now, that over the important things, even if they were good, she got a little nervous and scared. That, despite everything that she had been through, she could still feel those things in life that made it worth living. She had not been tainted or broken by the horrors that she had seen and was still, in some ways, the girl she was when Harry had first come to visit them all those years ago, before the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

In many ways, Ginny was the headstrong, opinionated daughter that he'd raised of whom he was so, so proud. She may have faced Death Eaters, not fearing her own death, from the age of fourteen and organised a rebellion against them while she was still just sixteen, or spent her days hanging off her broomstick at up to two hundred feet in the air, or darting up and down the pitch at ever-increasing speeds, performing moves others would not have dared to (without taking into account the height and speed at which she played). She would have no qualms in standing up for herself or expressing her opinion, especially when it came to hexing one of her brothers, as everyone in the Weasley family knew only too well.

But in this way she was still very much his little girl.

She was still looking to him for help and advice, just like when she used to fall over and just like then, he could still pick her up, kiss her and make things better, even if she was wearing a wedding dress and not an over-sized, far-too-big, handed-down t-shirt (of the twins) and a pair of ripped jeans.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "It's okay to be nervous, Ginny."

"It is?" Ginny questioned in a quiet voice.

Arthur smiled. "Of course it is." His smile grew as he continued. "Everyone feels nervous on their wedding day and as long as the answer is 'yes' to the question, 'Do you love him?', then you have nothing to worry about." He looked directly into her eyes, letting his blue eyes meet her bright brown ones. "Do you love Harry?"

"Yes," she whispered instantly and her smile lit up her whole face as if the September sun was shining directly on it.

He had already known the answer to that question.

Almost as he had watched her turn into a woman, he had watched the stages of her growing in love, unable to stop the feeling of devastating pain or sheer joy as things had changed. He had witnessed the pains of an unrequited love and the school girl crush. He had watched her mature and let friendship show Harry who she really was, much to everyone's relief. Then he'd seen them fall in love, before watching her suffer for that year that he was gone, heard that pained cry as she thought Harry had died, and seen the look of sheer desperation as she fought back, reckless and broken against any Death Eater she could. Those images still haunted him at times. He had seen the nervous reunion and that spark of love as it had grown, as she finally, after so long, saw Harry again. He only needed to watch the pair of them for a second to know that she was in love.

Arthur couldn't help letting his smile grow yet again and beam back at her. He loved watching her smile like that. The simple act of smiling, her true smile, would light up her whole face, making it look as radiant as if a million suns had set on it. The flecks of amber would sparkle with emotion in the bright brown eyes.

She reminded him of her mother so much with that smile — both so beautiful.

"And would you do anything for him?" he asked, although he already knew the answer to that question as well.

He had seen her face when she thought Harry had been killed. She would have done anything. He had watched as she ran at Bellatrix Lestrange, seen the look of sheer desperation. She would do anything for him. He had seen the elation as she had watched and had seen him victorious, and seen that look of pure joy as she ran to him.

They may not have known it then, but he had seen it. She would have done anything for him and something that night had worried him so much. He had half been expecting her to die for him and there had never been any doubt in his mind that Harry would do anything for her; he knew that from the minute that the news had broken that Harry had 'dumped' her. He'd lost her to Harry that very night — when, looking on, he could easily see that it was Harry who was the one that she loved with everything she had and the fact that she would marry him had become inevitable right then amongst all the pain, loss and suffering their love had sparked.

If Harry had been willing to let her go, Arthur could think of no better man to trust his daughter to, especially since she was so much in love with him.

"Of course I would." Ginny's smile, if possible, had grown wider.

"Then, as hard as it is for me to say this anymore…" Emotion was welling inside him and the tone of his voice was ringing with it. "…you are not my little girl anymore, you've grown up, and I'm so proud of the woman that you have become. You're ready."

Ginny's cheeks flushed a bright red, matching her hair as she stuttered, "Thanks, Dad. It's still a little weird though."

"How so?"

"I'm about to become a Potter," she paused on the word, "the whole show is about to start, but despite all that, and I believe you about the love, I'm not sure I'm ready."

"How so?" he pushed her softly, encouraging her to continue with his smile.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to stop being a Weasley." Again, she paused on the word. "I've been one all my life, it's my name and it seems weird to be giving that up. I'm not sure I want to be a Potter over a Weasley, no matter how much I love Harry."

"Even with a surname of Potter," Arthur could not stop his smile growing; she really had nothing to worry about with this, "you are never going to stop being a Weasley."

He looked at her again, studying her. Her blush had added to the bronze tones and freckles she had gained from a career spent outdoors and a season that had started this year in brilliant summer sun, making her colour look even more vibrant.

The pride was growing in him so much he thought that if it could it would have exploded out of him.

He held up his hand. "There's just one more thing I need to say before we head down there."

"Yeah?" she said softly.

He grinned at her. "You have never looked more beautiful than you do today."

"Dad," she offered in protest.

"I'm very serious, Ginny," he said as he took her hand in his, "you look stunning, just as your mother did on her wedding day."

She glanced downwards, blushing again. "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled at her, flushed with pride. He wanted this moment to last forever, just the two of them, the proud father and his little girl.

"So, are you ready?" he finally asked, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds in reality.

"Almost," Ginny said as she reached for the bouquet of flowers, before pausing again as this time she met his eyes, "just promise me you'll stop me from tripping as we walk."

He let out a small laugh, before smiling at her. "It's the least I can do."

"Okay." Ginny studied her reflection for one final time and moved a strand of hair out her face. "So, you ready to give me away, Dad?"

"I'll never be ready for that." Arthur took her hand in his. "But I am ready for today, because I don't think you could have done any better than Harry if you waited until you were a hundred and ninety-one."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, he is the hero of the wizarding world, so I guess you're right."

"He's more than that and you know it," Arthur told her. "That's not the Harry you know, that we know; he's the boy who loves you and, more importantly, I trust would do anything for you. I can't think of a better man for my only daughter to be marrying."

"Thank you, Daddy."

Arthur's face glowed with pride. "Well, let's get you down there."

"And you're not going to let me fall?" Ginny asked again, this time smiling herself.

"Not at all."

They headed downstairs and were met by Hermione and Luna in pale blue, ankle-length bridesmaid dresses. After brief smiles and exchanges, they slowly made their way outside to the marquee that had been erected at The Burrow.

Harry was standing at the end of the short aisle, Ron standing next to him.