~A Cinderella Story~


There was a time when Hogwarts was a kingdom. A kingdom ruled over by the King James Potter, and his queen Lily Potter.

They had only one son. The heir to the throne when they were to be gone from this world.

Harry Potter, the young prince of sixteen, was nearing his coming of age. He excelled with his Quidditch skills, and also some wand work. Particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts.

They were a strong kingdom in England. There was not one person in their country that didn’t know, or hear of Hogwarts. But there was one unhappiness to their luxurious life.

If Harry was to inherit the throne, he was to be married by his seventeenth birthday. Law simply could not abide by anything else.

Now, if only Harry saw it that way.


*~*


Harry Potter, prince of Hogwarts, stood before his full-length mirror, adjusting his fine velvet robes around his lean, Quidditch-toned figure.

He slipped his glasses on and picked up his hairbrush, making yet another frivolous attempt at taming his untidy hair.

“It’s no use, Harry,” his father’s voice sounded, “I gave you that hair. It is rather . . . uncontrollable.”

Harry turned away from his mirror, grinning at his father.

If everybody hadn’t known any better, they would have thought these two siblings.

They shared the same hair, colour and all; also the same build, hand, and even the same smile.

“Ah yes, let me thank you for this wonderful inheritance, Father,” said Harry.

“If you are not cautious, it shall be the only thing you will inherit from me,” James chastised his son.

“Oh Father, not this again -” began Harry.

“Yes, this,” said James. “I have come to speak with you about your birthday.”

“Haven’t we spoken of this many times already?” said Harry, exasperated.

“Your father and I only want the best for you, Harry.”

Harry’s mother Lily entered the bedroom, tucking her auburn hair into a bun.

She shared the same eyes with Harry, and smiled fondly at her son and husband.

“Yes, I understand that,” said Harry, “but I can also make decisions for myself.”

“You must also take to notice that if you do not marry by the end of the month you will marry Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons,” said James.

“I do not even know her!” said Harry. “How is one to succumb to that? It’s absolutely insufferable!”

“The joining of our nation and Beauxbatons will make and unstoppable -”

“So now I am just a pawn?” Harry inquired.

“Of course not,” said James calmly. “When it comes to an honourable position, one may have to make - er - certain sacrifices. But sacrifices are part of the position that comes with being a king and -”

“Then perhaps I do not wish to be king!” snapped Harry. “It is my life, I shall do as I please -”

“Harry James Potter you listen to me,” James said, pinning his son against the wall with one hand. “You will be married by your seventeenth birthday, or -”

“Or what, Father?” Harry smirked. “You’ll send me away and be king forever?”

“If the occasion calls for it!” said James, clenching his teeth.

Harry’s smirk grew.

“This is not a joke, young man,” said James, stepping away from Harry.

“I know this,” said Harry, frowning slightly. “But you must understand. I wish to marry a woman I love. Just for her love. Not her money nor her heritage.”
“Then you wish to marry a pauper?” James asked incredulously.

“As I have said, Father, I wish to marry the woman I fall in love with, royal or nor,” stated Harry.

“Argh - you are impossible!” said James, throwing up his hands in frustration.

“He only gets it from you, James,” said Lily calmly, touching her husband’s shoulder.

“You are not helping,” sighed James, bringing a hand to his eyes.

He began to pace, thinking hard.

“All right, he said. “I shall make you a deal. Your mother and I shall organize a ball one week before your birthday. If you do not choose a wife on this ball, I shall announce your marriage to Fleur Delacour. . . Do we have a deal?”

He stopped pacing, offering his hand.

Harry hesitated, biting his lip.

A week. One week to find a wife, if fate shall have it. . .

“Deal,” he finally agreed, squaring his shoulders as he shook hands with his father.

“Then I shall begin the preparations for the Ball,” Lily said. “Every woman within this kingdom shall be invited.”

“Including the paupers?” smirked Harry.

James groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Choose wisely, Harry,” Lily said, touching her son’s cheek and kissing his forehead. “Divorce is only something they do at Durmstrang.”

James crossed his arms across his broad chest.

“Now James,” said Lily, “you must keep your deal.”

She went to him and inclined his head slightly.

“He will make the right decision in the end,” she breathed against his ear. “Now,” she said, leaning back to kiss the corner of his mouth, “do not forget, your meeting with the Transylvanians today on their issue with Count Dracula.”

“Right,” said James offhandedly. “Son,” he added, inclining his head at Harry. “Lily.” He kissed his wife gently on the forehead before swiftly exiting.

Lily turned to Harry, giving a beautiful tight-lipped smile.

“I trust you to make the right decision,” she said, pulling her son into a hug. “Just remember, Harry, that this is all for you. Nobody can be accounted to make such an important choice but you.”

“Yes, Mother.”

*~*~*~*

~Happy Birthday, Ginerva!~



Down from the Hogwarts castle was the village of Hogsmeade. The village was rather large and very big. And very busy, too.

Today, four women were shopping the town.
What was so special about them? Not much really when it came to the first three.

But the fourth. You could tell there was something about this fair maiden, whether it came to her radiant red hair or her sparkling brown eyes.

Such a beautiful young woman, what was the purpose of her wearing the tattiest of robes?

Patched and frayed, the robes simply hung off her form, being four sizes too large.

Well, her stepmother would be the reason for the shabby appearance of the maiden.

Francesca Sinistra was the stepmother of the fair maiden. She had married the maiden’s father many years ago, when the maid was only a girl at the age of eight.

The older boy and girl loved their father very much. But after the mother had passed, Arthur felt that he could not grant his daughter all the things she needed.

So he remarried, thus not only giving his son and daughter a new mother, but two new stepsisters, Pansy and Millicent.

But tragedy struck two weeks after the wedding. Arthur had suffered a heart attack, and died.

Then the true side of Francesca was revealed.

She forced the young man and maiden to work as servants with the twenty member staff.

Francesca was a horrible woman from that moment on, treating everyone outside of family or royalty like dirt.

“Hurry up, Ginerva!” Pansy whined, a tall girl with dark hair, and was rather skinny with a pug-like face. “We still have many shops to attend!”

Ginny was already laden with many packages and bags, struggling to follow her step-family.

“Here, take this,” sighed the short, pudgy Millicent, stacking another package in Ginny’s arms.

“No girls, I think we are ready to return home,” said Francesca, a woman with graying black hair tied in an elegant bun.

An immediate chorus of whining followed this, coming from none other than her two daughters.

“No, no, girls,” sighed Francesca, “we shall return tomorrow. But for now, I am tired, and supper is waiting for us. Let us go home.”

She pushed past her daughters and led the way back to their carriage.

Ginny trudged along behind them.

“Why should I even bother to ask for help?” she muttered to herself. “Just lazy, lazy - oomph!”

All of the wrapped packages tumbled out of her arms and to the ground.

“Oh no!” Ginny cried. “Look what I’ve done!”

Stepmother was going to flay her if she saw this.

She bent over to pick them up only to find someone already there. . . Someone with rather untidy dark hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Hardly ever watching where I’m going these days.”

“It’s - it’s quite all right,” Ginny said, surprised but this.

No one had really done anything like this for her before.

Well, nobody besides her brother, really.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said again, a stack of packages in his arms as he straightened up.

His eyes, behind round glasses, were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. A startling bright green. The clearest, greenest green she’d ever laid eyes on.

He was also wearing some of the finest robes, in a navy blue that brightened his eyes.

His raven colored hair fell into his eyes as he sighed for air.

“Hurry up, Harry!” called a deep male voice.

“Do you need any assistance?” he asked.

“No,” Ginny blushed beneath her red hair, which was a curtain before her eyes. “I must leave.”

“Ginerva!” screeched the voice of her stepmother. “Where are you?”

Ginny gave a start.

“I - I must go,” she said hastily.

Taking the packages from his arms, she quickly gathered the rest and walked off.

“I thank you!” she called from behind the packages.

*~*~*~*

“Honestly, Ginerva, do you not have a brain?” chastied Millicent at dinner later that night.

“I called you at least twice!” Stepmother scolded.

“A thousand apologies,” Ginny curtsied. “It shall never happen again.”

“No, it shall not,” said Stepmother.

Ginny carried the dishes into the kitchen, where her older brother Ron was sweeping the floor. At a tall six-foot two, his resemblance to Ginny was uncanny, especially when it came to their hair color.

He smiled at her with his brown eyes as he relieved her of her burden, setting the dishes on the counter.

“Still the evil old hag, eh?” he asked, returning to his sweeping.

“Shh!” said Ginny. “If Stepmother hears you -”

“We’ll be out of here and better off,” said Ron wisely. “Off working for our own home and growing our own food. Off to do as we please.”

“I know,” sighed Ginny. “I’ve always wanted a house of our own. We could take everyone away from here - ’Mione and - and Remus - Grandmother Minerva - everybody.”

“And maybe you’ll meet that true love of yours, eh, old mum?” Ron grinned.

Giggling, Ginny stood on tip-toe to kiss her brother on the cheek.

“Now get to work!” Ron joked in a voice that sounded extremely familiar of their stepmother.

“But speaking of true love,” said Ginny slyly, “have you told a certain best friend of how you feel yet?”

Ron cleared his throat as his ears turned red.

“Ginny? Ginny are you in here?” asked a voice.

“Yes!” Ginny called back.

Her best friends Remus, Hermione, and Grandmother Minerva walked into the kitchen.

It was odd, though. Remus and Minerva were hiding Hermione.

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked as Ron and Hermione exchanged mysterious smiles.

“Go into the basement, eh?” Ron whispered.

Gently grasping her hand, he led her to a nearby staircase into the houses cold basement, where they kept their food and things. Candles illuminated the room, and now very curious, Ginny turned about to look at her friends.

“Surprise!” they cried, Hermione revealing to Ginny a cupcake. “Happy Birthday, Ginny.”

Ginny gasped.

“You did this for me?” she asked.

“It isn’t every day my sister turns sixteen,” Ron grinned.

And from his pocket he pulled a small package wrapped in lace.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Ginny. “We put our money together to buy you this.”

Ginny sighed as she touched the soft lace. It was so beautiful.

She gently pulled at its bow, and it revealed a small manuscript, with her name on the front in fine black ink.

“We know you’ve been needing one,” Ron said.

Ginny eyes filled with tears as she ran her hand along the engraved ink.

One of her passions was to write. If she was to leave here, she would be a writer. This manuscript was absolutely perfect - she’d been wanting one for ages.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. She gave a hearty sniff, looking at them all. “Thank you all.”

She gave each of them a hug.

“’Tis a wonderful day.”

*~*~*~*

A/N: I've finally been able to get back on - I'm sorry it took so long. Now, the new things I added to this aren't my best writing - but fun nonetheless. I regret to say that I was really rushed on RGN and I had to have an update - I'd promised it and I hate breaking promises.
Anyway, please R/R!



~His Contemplation~



“So you have to find a wife before this ball, correct?”

“Yes. Or on the night of the ball.”

“Well, I see your dilemma. Are there going to be plenty of maidens?”

Harry smiled at his friend’s inquiry.

“Supposedly every maiden within the kingdom.”

Draco smirked handsomely.

“Then I shall buy the finest robes in the kingdom,” he said.

“Not before I,” said Harry. “I am the one to be married, remember?”

Today, they were inside the castles fine library, talking instead of dutifully doing their studies.

“I wish I was as lucky as you,” Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair to set his feet on the table. “Women throwing themselves at my feet, begging me to pick one of them as a wife. . . Beautiful women.”

“Ah yes, and kissing the hem of my robes, and treating me like porcelain, and . . . I hate being a Prince.”

“Why?” asked Draco.

“Simply because I am to be forced into my ‘certain obligations,’ and all the ‘sacrifices’ that come with it, absolutely insufferable,” Harry said.

“Harry, with our position in society we must put ourselves second,” said Draco. “We must keep an honor bound duty to our people.”

Harry grinned.

“Rather wise words coming from someone who spends more time courting women than focusing on his studies,” he said.

Draco smirked at his best friend.

“Touché.”

*~*~*~*

The castle was undergoing a large effort. After every inch had been scrubbed, they began with the decorations.

“Mother - Mother!” called Harry as he entered the crowded Great Hall, where his mother was sitting upon her throne, directing all the hustle and bustle.

“Mother - oomph - Mother!” called Harry as many people bustled past him, some carrying trays, others in heated arguments, and some looking simply lost.

“Yes Harry dear?” sighed Mother as he approached.

“Can you please tell the caterer that we don’t need the second level decorated?” said Harry, exasperated. “They insist on it - but I cannot study!”

“Yes, Harry, dear,” said Lily, looking rather drained.

Frowning, Harry kneeled next to her,

“Why don’t you rest, Mother?” he asked.

“No, dear, I’m fine,” she managed a slight smile. “We are almost finished for the day.”

She smoothed his hair away from his forehead.

“Are you anxious?”

“Of course,” said Harry. “Who would not be?”

Mother smiled.

“Of course. . . I shall send somebody to speak with the caterer. Go on.”

Kissing her on the cheek, Harry rose and swiftly left, making haste to return to his quarters.

Sighing, he entered the large bedroom and sat down.

But as he picked up his fine eagle feather quill, he found that he could not focus on his studies, but what lay ahead.

This ball was going to change his life.

After this ball, he would no longer be a free youth, but a married Prince, finally able to inherit the throne.

He clenched his jaw.

What if he could not do this?

How did one do this? How could his Mother put trust and confidence in him when he himself did not know . . .

Harry sighed.

One thing was positive. He would not be returning to his studies this evening. And it would be yet another night of contemplating.

“Harry?”

He knew that deep voice.

Standing up, Harry grinned, looking for him.

“Uncle Sirius?”

Uncle Sirius, a tall man with dark hair and eyes, smiled broadly at Harry as he entered the room.

“How are you my dear boy?” Sirius smiled widely as he gave his godson a one-armed hug.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you for another few days!” Harry said.

“I decided to come early after I received an owl from James,” said Sirius. “About your little - er - disagreement.” He grinned.

“Oh yes,” said Harry. “That.”

“I guess it would be pointless of me to tell you why you must choose a wife before your birthday -”

“Do not worry, Draco and my mother have already done so,” sighed Harry, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Yes, well, I never married on my seventeenth birthday,” said Sirius, leaning over to read Harry’s studies.

“You weren’t?” asked Harry.

“Of course not,” said Sirius. "With a mother like my own? I was to marry Bertha Jorkins.”

Harry snorted.

“Bertha Jorkins?”

Sirius grinned.

“But I ran away from France and I came here,” said Sirius. “That’s when I met James and Lily. And then I met Elizabeth.”

His silver wedding band glinted in the sunlight.

“But you do not have a terrible family as I did,” said Sirius. “So don’t you dare try to run away.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, but it’s still wrong to marry someone you hardly know.”

*~*~*~*

As Ron stood inside the door of the kitchen, watching her in the garden, he nervously wrung the rang in his hands, twisting it so tight that he soon found himself caught.

"Ron - you are a miserable mess," came his younger sister's voice. "Just go and speak with her - she won't laugh at you."

Ron sighed.

"I - I do not know."

But his sister was known for not taking no as an answer. She pulled the rag out of his hands and pushed him out into the garden and locked the door.

"Ginerva Weasley!" Ron roared, pounding the door.

His sister simply smiled in the window, waving before she shut the curtains.

Ron looked around to see Hermione smiling at him, a slightly confused expression on her face.

"Er - hello, Hermione," Ron called to her. "Lovely day."

"Lovely it is," Hermione answered, turning to pick up her basket full of vegetables.

But as she heaved it up, it toppled over and the produce spilled everywhere.

"Oh no," she said as she bent down to pick it up.

"Oh - let me help," said Ron, hurrying to her.

He quickly scooped up the corn, pea pods and carrots.

"One more," he said as he reached for one.

But to his surprise, his hand clasped around Hermione's.

For one impossibly long moment he was utterly still, his hand tingling from the contact. Then his eyes shot up to hers and his blushed, quickly taking her hand to help her stand up.

"Erm - I'll help you, shall I?" he asked, picking up the basket.

But unfortunately, his constant clumsiness had reared it ugly head, and he tripped on his own two big feet, and toppled down the small slope, spilling the basket once more.

"Ron!" squealed Hermione, rushing after him as he continued to roll.

Ron landed in the embankment, covered in mud and weeds.

"Merlin, Ron, are you all right!" Hermione cried as she drew level with him,

Ron seemed to be seeing two women as he looked back at her, dazed.

"Hermione’s!" he said with a winded smile before he fainted.

-

A/N: I know what you're thinking now. "Draco Malfoy is best friends with Harry Potter?"
But, you know, this is AU, and in my AU, it can happen.
Besides, can't you see Draco as a prince? Only, I see him as a prince of darkness. *smirks at the thought*

~Oh Ronald~


“Oh Ronald,” sighed Ginny as she helped her brother to lay on his bed.

Immediately you could tell that this small, cramped bed was Ron’s side of the shared men’s room. News paper articles and rolls of parchment were spread about, all about Ronald’s favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannon Knights.

There were also several shabby volumes of books on Quidditch on the small table beside the bed, all given to him by Father.

Ginny watched amusedly as they waited for Remus to bring up the hot water.

“I feel like a fool,” Ron murmured as Ginny leaned over to pick a weed from his bright red hair. “Could it be any worse? Not only do I take a terrible fall but sprain my ankle in the process.”

Dirt was all over his already shabby robes, with weeds, and grass stains. Dirt also covered his freckled face.

Ginny couldn’t help the grin upon her lips as she took a hanky from her robe pocket to wipe the smudges from his face.

“Hermione is your best friend,” she said calmly. “There wouldn’t be a point in her being angry with you or thinking of you any less. She’s known you almost as long as I.”

“Yes, but this is different,” said Ron, his eyes downcast.

“It does not mean you cannot try again,” Ginny replied.

“But I want to do things right next time,” said Ron. “I mean, I -”

“Ron?”

Ginny and Ron looked around to see Hermione enter the room, a rag and bowl of steaming water in hand.

“Ah - Hermione, just what we needed,” said Ginny, smothering a grin at the sight of her brother turning red beneath all that mud. “I’ll get a crutch for you, shall I Ronald?”

Hermione took her place as Ginevra hurried out of the room, giggling as she descended the stairs to the basement.

*~*~*~*

“Oh, Harry James, those robes are perfect!”

Harry spun around slowly to look at himself at all angles in the deep blue robes he was wearing, lightly tugging on the silver threaded hood and broach. Quite good, he thought as he looked into the multi-paneled mirror.

He was rather exasperated, and they had been about this in his quarters for quite some time now. At least two hours.

His mother and Madam Malkin’s entourage had evaded him in his alone time, absolutely insisting that they fit him for robes at once, as the ball would be tomorrow night.

His mother had taken to sitting on the fine scarlet and gold bedspread, her hand around the intricately carved wooden post.

“Well I’m pleased they see fit to your tastes, Mother,” said Harry, discarding the robes and pulling on his own black ones.

The young maid that worked for Madam Malkin blushed as he handed the robes to her.

“Harry? Harry where are you?”

“In here, Draco,” Harry called back.

Draco appeared in the large doorway, smiling handsomely.

“Ah - one more day until the end of your life,” he said.

“Now, Draco,” said Mother with warning. She was smiling nonetheless.

“Hello, Mother - I-I mean, Queen Lily,” said Draco as she went to hug him.

“Draco, how many times have I told you!” laughed Mother as she kissed his cheek. “You may call me ‘Mother’ we did take you in, after all!”

Draco smiled back at her.

“I expect you’ll want these pressed and wrapped, then, Prince Harry?” Madam Malkin asked, a plump, blonde witch in finely tailored robes.

“Erm - yes,” said Harry. “Please.”

“We’ll have them back to you by the afternoon, I expect, my Queen,” Madam Malkin and her entourage bowed to Harry, Draco and Lily before exiting.

“So - have you found an escort to the ball, Draco?” Mother questioned, sitting in the chair at Harry’s parchment covered desk.

“Why should I when all the women will be swooning over my dear friend?” Draco teased at Harry.

The corners of Mother’s mouth twitched.

“I’m sure they all won’t be ‘swooning,’” she said evenly.

“I am,” said Draco. “Did you see that young maid?”

Lily couldn’t help but grin. “Well - he does have his father’s looks -”

“All right,” said Harry, exasperated, “can we please strict all talking of the prince to a minimum?”

“Sorry, dear,” said Lily.

“Harry!” came a voice. “Harry - are you in here?”

“Yes, Father,” answered Harry.

James strided into the room, briefly nodding to Mother and Draco. He looked anxious.

“What is it, Father?” asked Harry.

“W-well. . . . We’ve had a visit, and . . .”

“Yes?” prompted Harry.

“And - well, she’s just traveling through but she wished to stop by and see you.”

“Well - who is it?” asked Harry impatiently.

“Fleur Delacour.”

“Fleur Delacour?” asked Harry. “But -”

“Well, she is the Princess of Beauxbatons,” said James. “And as doing so she’s bound duty to visiting other kingdoms. She’s just arrived from the Americas and would like to see you.”

“Me?”

“Yes - and she won’t wait much longer - she insists -”

“Where iz ’e?” came an utterly female voice behind father. “I want to zee ’im.”

There was the pounding of many feet on the stone flagged floors, the unmistakable sound of fine heels, and the murmuring of many voices.

Next moment a young woman entered the room.

My, was she beautiful.

She had a long sheet of silvery blonde hair, large blue eyes, and when she set eyes on Harry, smiled with even, dazzling white teeth.

“You must be ’Arry,” she said in an almost purred voice.

Harry cleared his throat, suddenly finding that he was standing up straighter.

“Yes,” he said. “And you must be Fleur.”

“Why yes,” said Fleur, striding to him, offering her hand.

Harry took it in one of his own, bowing slightly and kissing the tops of her perfect, pale knuckles.

“’Ow wonderful it iz to finally meet you, ’Arry,” said Fleur. “But I fear my visit must be brief - I must be getting home - I very much miss my muzzer.”

“Won’t you stay for dinner?” asked Mother. She nudged Draco as she walked by, who was gaping at the Princess. She smiled gracefully at the young woman as she took Father’s arm.

“Well - I think I can find a reeson or two,” said Fleur, smiling at Harry.

---

Yes, you may all smack me for being so dang irresponsible. But I promise to make it up to you with another chapter. Soon!

Chapter Five


“My lady,” said Harry, offering his arm.

Another smile graced her features and she took his arm, allowing him to lead her out of the quarters.

Outside of the room was a small group of wizards and witches, all dressed in fine silk and all talking in fast French.

Fleur murmured something to them in French, and they all bowed to the royalty before swiftly disappearing up the nearest corridor.

“Hmm - you ’ave a beautiful castle ’ere,” said Fleur. “Almost as beautiful as my own,” she added with a chuckle.

“So, I expect your visit to the Americas was pleasant, Miss Delacour,” said Father, falling in step on Fleur’s other side.

“Oh yes,” said Fleur. “Some of my family is zhere - zhey ’ave found an island in Pacific Oceaan. It has taken quite some time, but zhey ’ave finally finished a castle.”

“Sounds delightful,” said James.

“Yes,” hummed Fleur. “You must veesit sometime.”

“Mmm - I’m sure we will,” said Mother, who had taken Harry’s other side.

They entered the Entrance Hall, and Harry led the way through a door off the Great Hall, right into the luxurious dining room.

Over a large, finely sewn rug was a long, oak table, stained dark with matching, high-backed cushioned chairs.

“Dinner should be served shortly,” Father said as Harry drew out a chair to the right of the head of the table.

“So, I expect all ze decoraations are to be for some bash, eh?” Fleur asked lightly as Harry sat to her right, Draco to his right. “Zhey look like ze decoraations for a ball.”

“Oh, yes, well, of a sort,” said Mother hastily as she sat down on Father’s left. “It’s a party for young Draco - his seventeenth birthday -”

“What?” asked Draco. “It’s not my - OW!” Harry had elbowed him in the ribs. “I - I mean - yes, seventeen, of course,” he said hastily, clearing his throat.

He threw a glare at Harry as Fleur looked away, rubbing his ribs.

“You could have just kicked my foot or something,” he hissed at Harry as Father shared charming jokes with the young Princess.

Harry grinned.

“I’d rather hit you,” he teased.

“Why you little -”

“Ah - dinner is served!” said Father.

A dozen House Elves filed into the room, all carrying dishes above their heads. In unison they set the delicious-smelling dishes onto the table. Beef, pork, chicken - all types of vegetables - bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes, and an abundance of puddings and pies.

“Thank you,” Harry said to Dobby, his favourite Elf as he set treacle pudding by his plate.

Dobby gave no comment, but his usual wide smile, sinking into a low bow along with the rest of his fellows.

“What fine food you ’ave ’ere, King James,” said Fleur.

“Yes - but do you miss anything?”

“Bouillabaisse,” murmured Fleur at once. “My favourite deesh.”

“The House Elves can make it for you,” said Father. “I could just -”

“Oh, would you?” asked Fleur.

“Of course,” said Father, snapping his fingers. Dobby rushed out, bowing at his feet. “Dobby - will you please prepare some Bouillabaisse for Princess Fleur?”

“Yes, sir,” squeaked Dobby.

He turned and rushed back into the kitchens.

“So tell me of your kingdom, Fleur?” asked Mother politely.

“Oh, yes, after my parents passed away, Merlin bless their souls, I was taken in by my aunt, Madame Maxime, who raised me and my younger seester from the time I was ten.”

“Oh you poor dear,” began Mother.

“No, no, it is fine,” said Fleur. “They died a brave death - and that is what matters.”

“Of course,” murmured Father.

“Madame taught me everything I know,” said Fleur. “And is the reeson I have my wonderful upbringing of today.”

The kitchen door burst open, and Dobby came bustling through, a large dish in his arms. It was obviously too heavy, for he swayed as he struggled to bring it to the table.

“Here is the Bouillabaisse, miss,” he squeaked, struggling to set it on the table.

But as he struggled, the dish tipped on its side a bit, spilling ever so little into Fleur’s lap.

She screamed, jumping to her feet.

Harry furrowed his brow. There was no need to fret - the dish wasn’t very hot.

“You eeembeesil!” she said shrilly. “Look what you ’ave done to my robes!”

She raised her hand to his the terrified Elf, striking him in the head before Harry was on his feet, grasping her wrist firmly.

“Miss,” he said, looking down at her, “I request that you keep your hands to yourself. Dobby did not mean any harm - it was an innocent accident that I assure you can be fixed with a simple spell.”

For a moment Fleur glared at him before ease graced her features, though she still looked angry.

“Of course,” she said, returning his gaze haughtily.

“Dobby,” said Harry, releasing the Princess, “you may return to the kitchens.”

The Princess’s striking angered Harry. No living thing deserved to be hit, and he would not stand for it.

“I apologize again for striking the creature,” Fleur said again, seating herself. “But in my Kingdom nothing of the sort happens. The penalty is clothes.”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid we have much different accustoms here,” Harry said firmly as he sat down again.

“Harry!” said Mother warningly.

“The Bouillabaisse is not hot eenuff,” said Fleur, and Harry could sense she was slightly cross. “Send it back -”

“O-of course,” said Father. He snapped his fingers again, and this time a different House Elf came, one by the name of Winky, who was much smaller than Dobby, rushed to Father’s feet.

“Will you please take this back and heat it a little more, Winky?” asked James kindly, handing the dish to the Elf -

“I’m sorry, I must be excused,” Harry said, raising himself from the table. “Mother - Father - Draco . . . Fleur,” he added reluctantly.

He turned on heel and left, hurrying to the Astronomy Tower. He needed solace.

*~*~*~*

“Oh!” gasped Pansy as she entered the office. “Mother - Mother LOOK!”

Both Francesca and Ginevra winced at the volume and shrillness of the young woman’s voice.

Francesca had been sending letters to her relatives at her outrageously big desk, and Ginny had brought her some tea and biscuits while working.

“Pansy!” snapped Francesca. “We must not shout at people like cattle - GINEVRA!”

“I’m right here, stepmother,” said Ginny, carefully hiding her exasperation.

“Well - let’s see,” said Francesca as Ginny cleared the tea dishes away. “Oh,” she sighed delightedly. “We are pleased to inform you that a ball is to be arranged at the Hogwarts castle. Please have all the maiden’s within household attend - for Prince Harry searches for a suitor.”

“When is it, Mother?” asked Pansy excitedly.

“Tomorrow night,” purred Francesca. “Oh this is wonderful news! I shall finally give my daughters the future they deserve - and it all comes down to young Prince Harry. . . Gather your sister, Pansy. We shall be going to the village.”

Ginevra stood nervously behind her stepmother, dishes in hand.

A ball, she thought. Oh how lovely it would be to go.

“S-stepmother?” she asked quietly.

Francesca turned about and raised a dark eyebrow at her.

“Yes?”

“Erm - may Hermione and myself go as well, stepmother?” she asked.

Francesca swept an appraising look over her, but hadn’t answered yet.

“I - I mean . . . I mean, it said that all maiden’s within household and . . . well. . .”

“Perhaps,” said Francesca. “I’m sure it’ll be all right if you finish your chores in time.”

Ginny beamed.

“Thank you, stepmother!” she said.

“Of course,” said Francesca, turning about.

---

I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this out, everybody. I was having a huge case of writer's block. As soon as this chpater is validated, I'll be putting up the next one. And hopefully I'll have one soon after that.

In hopeful answer to any future questions you have, yes I took after Philosipher's/Sorcerer's Stone for the letter format. This is probably my favorite chapter to write since the first. I liked the interaction between Harry and Draco and Lily. Thought it was rather funny, actually.

And stay tuned - because I plan on more interaction between Fleur and Harry.

Chapter Six


“’Arry - ’Arry, where are you?”

Harry cringed as he heard that light French accent.

“Yes,” he called back.

He had been standing on his favorite balcony of the Castle, the one the House Elves called the “Astronomy Tower.” The reason? If one was to peer up into the heavens, they would spot many, many constellations.

“Are you cross with me, ’Arry?” Fleur asked from behind him.

Harry, who had been leaning against the high wall, his hands planted on the cold stone, turned about to look at her, his hands clasped behind his back.

“No, Mistress,” he said with a small smile.

Her beauty radiated in the moonlight, and she gave a glittering smile, stepping towards him.

“But ’Arry, I was just wondearing about our . . . engagement.”

“What . . . about it?” asked Harry. He felt a slight pang in his stomach for not being entirely truthful with her.

“Well - since it was my father zhat made the suggestion, and I am to move into your castle, we must make some . . . settlements.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for one - our belieefs on Elf rights,” said Fleur, taking one of his hands in both of her own. “It is not a custom of our country to give the elves such privileges you ’ave. We do not treat zem like equals, ’Arry.”

Harry’s mouth formed into a grim line.

“And anuzzer fact is that we do not keep our castle so . . . untidy -”

“Untidy?” asked Harry, pulling his hand away.

“Well - we obviously run our lives different, ’Arry.”

“Yes,” said Harry. “However, Mistress, you are moving into my castle - offered by my father. I’m afraid you’ll have to abide by our laws -”

“Wait one moment, ’Arry - I shall not live an insufferable -”

“Insufferable!” cried Harry. “Once more, Mistress, you insult the Hogwarts Castle! The man you are bound to marry!”

She looked ready to slap him.

*~*~*~*

“Come on, Mother,” Draco sighed as he, Lily and James left the dining room. “I expect we should find the Princess and Harry.”

“Yes, I agree.”

They walked up the nearest corridor.

“So - er - do you think the Princess suspects us?” Draco asked, his voice hushed.

“Well - one can say we’ve acted . . . strangely,” Lily said, taking his arm. “But we shall not know for a while, I suppose. . . Where do you think Harry’s gone off to?”

“He likes the Astronomy Tower,” said James. “It gives him space to think.”

“Ah - let’s go check on him, then,” said Lily. “I expect the Princess has gone to find him as well.”

Draco led his surrogate mother and father up many flights of changing stairs, all the way to the West of the castle, where the Astronomy tower resided.

“Do you hear that?” Lily asked as they ascended the dark, moonlit stairs.

“Sounds like . . . shouting,” said Draco slowly.

Indeed it was. When the three of them emerged through the door, it was to find Harry and Fleur shouting at one another at the top of their voices, toe to toe.

“OUR CASTLE!” Harry was shouting. “OUR LAWS!”

“Harry!” said Lily shrilly. “Miss Delacour!”

Harry and Fleur stepped apart. Harry’s face was bright red, his breathing fast and furious. Fleur seemed to be glowing with anger.

*~*~*~*

Harry stared at his mother, father and best friend. While the men were gaping at him, his mother had her hands on her hips, tapping her foot.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, looking between the young royalty.

“I shall tell you,” said Harry curtly. “I am not going to marry a pompous wench that believes everyone is below her!”

There was a collective gasp, even from Fleur.

“’Ow dare you!” she said shrilly. “Then I am certainly not going to marry a foolish boy who -”

“That is enough!” said Mother. “I cannot believe you two would sink so low as to having a shouting match right in plain sight of -”

“As of now the agreement if off,” said Fleur, stamping her foot. “I shall not be marrying him and I zhere shall be no joining of our nations!”

She turned on her heel, making to storm off, but she paused, whirling about. She marched back to Harry and stamped hard on his foot.

“Ow!”

“Pig!” she cried, slapping him across the face.

Mother’s hands flew to her mouth and Draco’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Harry, too, was gaping at her, a hand to his reddening cheek.

“Good riddance, then!” he shouted as she disappeared down the dark staircase.

“Harry!” cried mother.

“You cannot convince me otherwise!” exclaimed Harry, looking furiously between his mother and father. “If I do not find a bride tomorrow night, so be it. But I will - shall not marry her!”

And with that he marched passed them all and down the dark staircase, leaving them all shocked.

Draco recovered first, clearing his throat. “Erm - that went well.”

Mother scowled and swatted him on the arm.

*~*~*~*

“Oh Mother, look at this!” gasped Pansy as she thrust the Daily Prophet in Francesca’s face. “Prince of Hogwarts, otherwise known as Prince Harry Potter caught in shouting match with unknown woman!”

“What?” gasped Francesca, Millicent and Ginevra at the same time.

They were eating breakfast in the fine dining room when Pansy had announced this news. Ginevra nearly dropped the plate she intended to set in front of her mother.

“Yes,” said Pansy excitedly as she sank into the chair on her mother’s right-hand side. “Listen to this, Mother: 'I, Rita Skeeter, observed a loud argument between one Harry Potter and a mysterious witch - one, that I proclaim - is royalty. Some of the words shared were: “I am not going to marry a pompous wench that believes everyone is below her!” by that of Prince Harry. And by the miss: “Pig!” It is a very good thing that the King and Queen have decided to hold a Ball. Ones hopes Prince Potter will keep his tongue in check.'”

“Wow,” said Millicent. “Sounds like my kind of suitor.”

“Only if you get to him first,” said Pansy, eyeing the parchment hungrily. “Which you won’t.”

Ginny sighed. She couldn’t imagine a Prince acting like that. That Mistress must have been one bad one, as the had always done the right things for the good of the Kingdom and was known for his kindness.

“You’re excused, Ginevra,” said Francesca as the girls began to argue about their chances of meeting the prince.

Ginny curtsied for her family before disappearing through the back door, yawning widely.

“Ginny - quick, come here,” said Ron from the stove.

Ginny went to her brother. “What is it?”

“We have something for you,” Ron said, taking her hand.

He led her through the spacious kitchen, leading her down into the basement. She could hear the voices of Grandmother Minerva and Hermione.

Remus was gone on this night. ’Twas the full moon.

“She’s here,” said Ron.

“Ah - there you are, Ginny,” Hermione said.

“What’s going on?”

“Well - Ron and I were . . . rummaging through your mother’s old things in the attic, and we’ve found a little surprise,” said Hermione, throwing a rouge grin at Ron.

Immediately tears sprang into Ginny’s eyes. “And . . . what?”

“We’ve found a dress for you,” said Hermione, casting a look at Minerva, who’s smile widened. “Your mother’s old dress.”

*~*~*~*

“Harry - look at this!”

Draco thrust the latest addition of the Daily Prophet under his best friend’s nose.

Harry had been lounging about in his quarters, sitting in his favorite chair. He’d been in a rather bad mood since last nights “episode” and nobody had been able to cheer him up.

“What is it?” Harry asked, completely uninterested.

“It’s you,” said Draco.

“Me?”

“Yes, you - in the Daily Prophet - somebody heard your little . . . teté-a-teté with Fleur Delacour last night.”

“What?!” exclaimed Harry snatching the paper from his best friend.

Harry read the article, his mouth wide open.

“WHAT?!”

Draco had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall nearby.

“I don’t believe it!” Harry jumped to his feet, outraged. “How did that Skeeter wench hear us!”

Draco shrugged. “Then again, you were really loud -”

“That is beside the point!” Harry spat. “We’re a mile away from the nearest mansion!”

“Yes, well, she’s known to be sneaky,” said Draco evenly.

“She has always hounded anyone of importance with poisoned stories,” said Harry furiously. “And I fear we haven’t seen the end of this.”

---

I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this out, guys. I had a lot of writers block with this story - and it was frustrating when I was coming up with all these ideas for the others. Plus, I've gotten a job, so I haven't been able to write as much lately. Friday's and weekends are when I'm actually free, so - yeah.

Anyway, about this chapter - it's a little rushed, but I promise the next will be good - it's what you've all been waiting for (or at least that's what I'm planning on).

But please review and let me know what you think!

A Royal Ball

Ginevra’s mouth fell open as she recognized those beautiful
robes, tears brimming in her eyes.

Her mother had loved those robes dearly. She wore them to every
party, every ball, every wedding. Yet they were still in perfect condition, and
that’s what was so magical about them.

The robes were of pastel pink, fine lace sewn onto the hems of
the cuff and collar. On the front was a silver broach, and pink ribbon accented
around it.

Grandmother Minerva was holding the very dress Ginny’s mother
wore underneath, a simple pastel pink gown to match.

“You did this for me?” Ginny asked in a breathless voice.

Hermione smiled happily as she took Ron’s arm. “We want you to
wear it to the Ball,” she said.

Ginny sniffed as she was handed the robes. She held them
against her chest, smiling at them all. “I will. . . Thank you so much.”

*~*~*~*

“Bloody robes,” Harry muttered, attempting to fasten the
difficult tie on the front of his new robes. The very ones his mother had
purchased from Madam Malkin’s.

“Make sure you keep that language in check, Harry James,” said
a deep voice.

Harry grinned at the reflection of his father in the mirror.
“Yes, Father.”

The night of the Ball. Harry was nervous about this. He had
attended Ball’s like these, but never one of his own. Such behaviour and fashion
was expected at one of these, as well as an engagement.

“Well -- I’m certain things will go smoothly,” James said,
helping Harry with the tie. “I just want you to know something.”

Harry turned about. “What?”

“No matter what decisions you make, I am very proud of you. And
so is your mother.”

Harry grinned again. “Is this one of those ‘moments,’
father?”

Try as he might, a reluctant smile spread across James’
features. “I was trying to be serious, young man.”

Harry laughed. “I know.”

He took a good look at his father as they stood before each
other.

James was wearing robes of emerald green, his golden crown
placed neatly atop his head. Lucky for him, most of the crown covered his untidy
hair.

Harry, however, would not be able to wear a crown with his
robes, though he had tried to tame his hair. Yes, another fruitless attempt.

“Come on, chaps, mustn’t keep the maidens waiting,” came
another voice.

Draco swaggered into the room, dressed in robes of fine black.

James clapped his large hands together, turning to his son.
“Are you ready, Harry?”

His son nodded.

“All right.”

*~*~*~*

“Hurry, Ginny, you shall be late.”

Ginevra slipped the pastel pink robes over her shoulders as
Hermione adjusted the bow in her hair.

“Done!”

Grandmother Minerva put a hand to her chest, beaming. “You look
just like your mother.”

Ginny stepped in front of the full-length mirror on the other
side of the small, cramped bedroom. Her robes littered the floor, ribbons lying
on the older girl’s bed.

“Do you really think so?” Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded in the reflection.

Ginny smiled. “Good.”

Knock, knock, knock!

“Can we come in now?” came Ron’s voice through the door.

“Yes!”

The door opened and her older brother’s bright red hair
appeared.

He glowed at his little sister. “Just like Mum,” was all he
said as he stepped inside.

Remus smiled at Ginny from the doorway.

“So you think it’s okay?” she asked him.

“Perfect,” he said.

Ginny went to him and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Remus.”

She turned around and hugged everybody else.

“Hurry up, hurry up,” said Ron as she drew away from him last,
“you don’t want to miss the carriage. I’m not taking your bum to the
castle.”

Ginny smiled.

“Have a good time, dear,” said Grandmother Minerva, giving her
surrogate granddaughter a kiss on the cheek.

With another round of thanks, Ginny hurried out of the door.
She was spoken to by many of the family portraits on the wall. Some looked
disgusted, other’s looked bored, and many did not look. But that didn’t bother
her.

She met Pansy and Millicent at the bottom of the marble
staircase. Pansy was wearing hot pink robes, with many bows (too many, actually.
There was a rather large bow in her dark hair). Millicent was in a plain, bright
green.

“Erm -- are you ready?” Ginny asked awkwardly.

“Why Ginevra, I do like that colour on you,” Pansy said
loftily.

“Really?” Ginny asked, smoothing her hands down the front of
her new robes. “They were my mother’s.”

“Yes, it seems to bring out the colour of her eyes . . .”
Millicent agreed. “But . . . I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Not going to work?” Ginny asked, taking an automatic step
back. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, Ginevra,” Pansy began, a hand to her chin, “we’ve been
working rather hard to get to the prince . . .”

“And we don’t want anybody to ruin it,” said Millicent. “Now
that’s Fleur Delacour is out of the way, we can move right in on Prince Harry .
. . but not with you there.”

“B-but I promise I won’t be in the way,” Ginny said quickly. “I
--”

“It’s the fact that you’re considered our family,” Pansy said.
“We can’t have you embarrassing us, sister dearest.”

“But --”

Pansy and Millicent suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Ginny,
pulling at her beautiful robes, ripping them to pieces. Ginny choked as
Millicent grabbed the front broach and gave a hard tug and tore it off, tossing
it across the room. Pansy ripped the ribbon from her hair, and Ginny watched in
horror as her once beautiful robes fell to the floor in pieces. Even the front
the dress underneath was torn.

Then, Pansy and Millicent pushed her into a nearby broom
closet. Ginny watched desperately as she saw the light of a locking spell
through the keyhole, followed by the blue light of a silencing charm.

“No . . .”

*~*~*~*

“And now, I would like to introduce my son,” James announced to
the large crowd gathered in his hall.

All the women eagerly awaited Harry’s arrival. They nervously
fixed their hair, held compact mirrors to check their faces, or simply stood
nervously, watching the King for his word.

“Prince of Hogwarts, star Seeker of the Gryffindor Lions, and
my son, Harry James Potter!”

The crowd cheered as the double doors in the back opened,
revealing Harry.

“All right,” he murmured to himself as he smiled at the crowd.
“Here we go.”

*~*~*~*

Ginny stubbornly wiped at the tears on her cheeks, keeping them
from falling onto what was left of her robes.

She knew it was stupid, that she wouldn’t be able to fix them,
but they were important to her. They were the last physical piece that she had
of her mother, and . . . now they were gone.

She could hear her brother’s voice through the door.

“I hope Ginny’s having fun tonight,” he was saying.

“All those people, and the castle should be a sight to see,”
said Grandmother Minerva’s voice.

Ginny wiped at her eyes again. Even if she shouted at the top
of her lungs, they wouldn’t be able to hear her through the door.

“Wotcher Ginny, cheer up.”

Ginny gasped as she heard a woman’s voice behind her. She
scrambled to her feet as she saw a small fuchsia star in the dark corner of the
small closet, illuminating the woman’s very short hair, which was the colour of
stardust.

“Hello Ginevra. I’m Tonks, your Fairy Godmother.”

---

Hey guys, I know this took me a while to get out ot you, but I just got a new computer (don't know if I told you that or not), and I'm still getting used to it. : )

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, and I already started on the next chapter. It's just been a while since I left any of my readers at a cliffie. *hehe*

I hope you like my Fairy Godmother, I'd say she was rather unorthodox, wouldn't you?

Please rewiew!

CinderGinny





“W-what?” spluttered Ginny, backing against the door and quickly wiping her eyes. “W-who --?”

“I’m Tonks,” the woman repeated. “I’m your Fairy Godmother.”

“M-my Fairy Godmother?” Ginny said. “I -- There is no such thing.”

“No such thing,” said the woman, stepping closer. Ginny saw from this distance that she was only a few years older, with a pale, heart-shaped face, and her dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “Well . . . I don’t know what we could do with that? But if you say I am ‘no such thing,’ then I shouldn’t help you, should I?”

“Help me?” Ginny repeated. “My brother will find me soon enough.”

“See, that’s the problem with you, Ginevra Weasley! You never stand up for yourself!”

“What’s the point?” Ginny said. “They would just stomp me into the ground anyway.”

“I will hear no such talk, Ginny,” said Tonks. “You and your brother should be the soul heirs of your mother and father’s fortune, and it’s about time you took what you wanted.”

“I will get what I want!” Ginny said. “No doubt, one of the sisters will meet Prince Harry, and if all goes well, they’ll move into the castle with him, and I’ll have my home back. That’s all I want, really.”

“The only problem is, your sisters aren’t supposed to marry Prince Harry,” said Tonks.

“Then who is?”

The Fairy Godmother gave an enigmatic smile. “That I cannot reveal. I can, however, get you to that ball. It’s up to you whether you want to take a stand and defend yourself.”

“And how shall you do that?” said Ginny, pressing herself more firmly into the door. This was absurd. “How shall I do that?”

“How many times must I repeat it; I’m your Fairy Godmother.”

Ginny frowned. “How?”

Tonks sighed, taking the younger girls hand. “Just hold on.”

With a faint pop, they had disappeared from the closet. Ginny wanted to scream as they disappeared into darkness, but the sound would not escape from her lips, and the darkness was there for little more than a second before they were outside. In the meadow, it looked like.

“Why are we in the meadow?” Ginny asked, who was shaky. She stared at the lights of the house in the distance.

“I was getting cramped in that little closet,” said Tonks. “Besides, we need room for your new robes.”

“N-new robes?”

“Just shush, Gin,” said Tonks. “How will we get anything done with you asking so many questions. You remind me of my superior, Moody. Not very fairy-like at all and he runs the whole deal.”

She stood away from Ginny, who had pursed her lips.

Honestly, this all had to be some bizarre dream, really. She fell asleep in the closet, that was all. That’s why she’s having this odd, odd dream. That’s why this woman dressed in purple with silver hair and men’s black boots on is standing in front of her.

“Aha! I think I may have found the solution,” said Tonks so suddenly it made Ginny jump. Somehow, she was beginning to think this wasn’t a dream. “I found the perfect colour for you, Ginevra. You’re going to make a lucky man’s heart stop tonight.”

She stared at her Fairy Godchild another moment before
sticking her tongue between her teeth before producing the oddest object from her robes: a silver rod with a bright purple star attached on the end.

“Honestly, ridiculous things, really,” she said bitterly. “You should see Moody with it. And his is pink.” A mischievous grin curled her lips. “Now,” she added, “I’ll need you to spin slowly . . .”

Ginny did as told, watching silver sparks erupt from the older woman’s wand as she twirled it about. But she had no choice but to close her eyes as the sparks became more intense.

“Aha!” said Tonks after a moment. “Open your eyes, dear. See what you’re wearing.”

She pointed to the pond in the meadow, where moonlight was reflected.

Ginny was trembling all over. She could feel the finest of fabric fitted to every curve of her body and the whisper of fine silk as she moved.

She gasped as she saw her reflection. Tonks had worked a miracle, really. Nothing short.

Ginny was wearing a fine white gown of silk, which was in a beautiful bell shape. Around her neck was an intricate diamond necklace, and hanging around her shoulders was a matching satin robe, floating gently in the breeze. To finish everything off, she wore fine white gloves and her hair was tied into an elegant bun, and her slippers were made of glass. It was everything she could have hoped for.

“Oh, Tonks!” she cried, turning to her Fairy Godmother. “Oh -- it’s -- it’s absolutely wonderful. It’s perfect, it’s . . .”

“No need to thank me, dear, that’s what I’m here for.” Tonks grinned.

“Oh but I think I should --”

“We’ll work everything out later, but the time is getting late,” said Tonks. “And we haven’t worked out a proper way of transportation.”

“Transportation -- but I thought --”

“You’ll need to arrive with flare,” said Tonks. “And everybody at the ball will have one.”

“One . . . what?”

“Why a broom, of course!” Tonks gave a wave of her wand, and immediately a fine broom appeared in Ginny’s hand (certainly not one for sweeping). “And just whistle for it, if you need it. I expect you know where the castle is?” she added.

“Yes, Tonks.”

“Now -- a few ground rules. You must be home by midnight --”

“Midnight?”

“Yes, at midnight the spell will break,” said Tonks. “I must confess I’m not the best at these spells. And it’s in the rules; we have to set a certain time. But . . . that should give you two hours, dear.”

“All right, I understand,” said Ginny.

Tonks gasped. “Well hurry on, then -- it’s getting late! Have a good time, dance, and be happy.”

“Oh, I will,” said Ginny, sitting on the broom side-saddle.

And then she was off, soaring into the air, waving to Tonks as she disappeared with a pop and a lot of silver sparks.

Ginny smiled and chuckled a bit as she flew amongst the clouds. What would Ron say if he saw her now? And Hermione, and the rest?

Pansy and Millicent . . . well, she would just watch out for them. They probably (hopefully) won’t notice her when she arrived, and she would stay out of their way. That way they would all be happy.

But she frowned slightly as Tonks voice sounded in her ear. “Stand up for yourself.”

Well, then, so what if they saw her. She had permission to go -- straight from Stepmother.

Ginny looked down upon the village, smelling that vague whiff of baking, and listening to the people on the cobbled streets. Mostly families, really. Poor families, it looked.

She landed gracefully at the large, oak entrance doors of the Hogwarts castle, immediately granted entrance by a pair of twin, redheaded brothers.

She walked through the silent entrance hall, smiling as she heard the lines of iron armour creak at her wake. She could hear a man’s voice announcing the arrivals of available maidens. She hurried up the nearest staircase, into the golden hall of the ball.


*~*


James leaned over to his wife, a slight scowl on his face as he watched their son waltz with Madam Moiselle Rebecca Benej Dour, daughter of the Earl of Beauxbatons.

“I just don’t understand it!” he hissed. “Wouldn’t at least one make a suitable mother?”

“Shh!” said Lily calmly. “Patience, dear.”

“Or at least a suitable wife,” grumbled James. He leaned back into his chair with a sigh. “I give up.”

Lily patted his arm. “Don’t lose hope quite yet. I believe I see a maiden he hasn’t been introduced to yet.” she said it with a smile.


*~*


Harry gave a slight smile to Rebecca, who was blushing from head to foot and would barely look at him. This had been the case with nearly ten other witches tonight, so it came as no surprise. But in five out of fifteen cases, the witch he was dancing with fancied talking a bit too much (more than once Harry found himself tuning out the conversation, with many nods and “mm-hum’s”). Dreadful, really. So he busied himself with counting to the waltz.

1, 2, 3. . . 1, 2, 3. . . 1, 2, 3. . .

“Quite a lovely castle, milord,” Rebecca said shyly in her French accent.

“Oh, thank you,” said Harry.

And then they lapsed into more . . . silence. She was not wearing gloves, so he could feel her sweating palms, which wasn’t too pleasant, mind you.

He felt as if his father was breathing down his neck, really. He had been watching closely ever since Harry entered the ball, and he didn’t look too happy about the present results. It wasn’t as if Harry wasn’t trying! It was just that . . . he hadn’t found the right match, yet.

Love is something you shouldn’t force.

Harry heard with a keen ear that many of the males attending were murmuring more and more, and there was a small crowd gathered about the door. He watched over Rebecca’s shoulder as one by the name of Colin Creevey (of the House of Creevey) led a young maiden onto the dance floor.

And what a maiden she was . . .


*~*


Ginny did not expect any of the men to crowd her like they were now, so it came as a surprise when they asked her to dance.

She took to the nearest young man, by the name of Colin Creevey, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

“I must confess, I have never danced, milord,” she said.

“Ah - ’tis just a waltz,” said Colin. “One, two, three -- one, two, three.”

He led her in a circle, moving as he counted. Soon Ginny learned and the waltz continued with comfortable conversation. Every once in a while, when there was a break in conversation, she would take the time to look about her surroundings.

The ceiling of the divine hall was bewitched to mimic the starry sky outside, and below it was the most amazing display of candles (hundreds and hundreds of them). Lining the outer walls were long tables, where a few guests were enjoying fine food, chattering about. At the head of the hall sat the King and Queen.

They looked so wonderful in person. Queen Lily’s hair fell graciously below her shoulders in waves, and she smiled a benign smile as she watched the dance. King James, however, did not look as happy. He was watching somebody in the crowd very intently, whom Ginny could not see. She wondered where their son, Prince Harry would be by now. She had never seen him, really. She wondered if he more like Queen Lily, or like King James.

“May I cut in?” came a young mans deep voice. It sounded very . . . familiar to her, really.

Ginny paused mid-waltz to see the boy from the village standing behind her. Raven hair, bright green eyes behind round glasses. Fine robes, they were.

“Well, I --”

“Of course you may, Prince Harry,” Colin said, releasing Ginny and bowing.

Prince Harry!

Colin kissed Ginny’s hand. “My lady.”

With that he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Prince Harry to gently take Ginny’s hand. He smiled down at her. “Well, it looks like they’ve finally played something other than a waltz,” he said. “I was rather bored with them.”

Ginny blushed, looking away for only a moment. She could see the King watching in the distance. Oh yes, this was certainly the Prince.

“Have we . . . met before?” Harry asked as they moved slowly about the dance floor.

“I do not believe so, milord,” Ginny replied with a small smile. She knew he would never believe her if she told him the truth.

“Oh, please don’t call me that.”

“Then what do you wish me to call you?”

“Harry. Just Harry.”

She blushed again.

She was very aware of how straight his back was as he dance with her, his hand warm on her waist and the other gently squeezing her fingers.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” he asked.

She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps in another life.”

“Or another event,” said Harry. “What family do you come from?”

“Oh the . . . family of . . . . Tonkschinder,” Ginny said. “Yes -- we’re from the . . . the Americas. But we just moved back here.”

“Tonkschinder? Doesn’t sound familiar to me . . .”

“Yes, we . . . we like to keep things private where I come from.”

“Oh . . . that would explain it, then,” said Harry, he pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “I know, were you at the annual royal ball of Durmstrang?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Perhaps the Coming Out party of Princess Gabrielle of Austria’s Wizard Kingdom?”

“No.”

The music slowed into another waltz, and Harry smiled again, giving up on his guessing attempts. “Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

“Oh -- yes, of course.”

Taking his arm, she followed him into the entrance hall, down the silent hallway. They walked in companionable silence, up a secret passageway and to the top of a secluded tower.

“This is the Astronomy Tower,” Harry murmured. “I like to come here a lot, actually.”

“It’s lovely,” said Ginny.

Harry took a seat on the low wall, gazing at her. “I don’t mind being a Prince, but sometimes it’s nice to get away.”

“Being royalty is of such privilege, then,” said Ginny, joining him. “All the wonderful things you could do -- and . . .”

“Yes, well I believe a lot of witches and wizards take too much advantage of their heritage,” said Harry. “In other words, they act immensely . . .”

“Spoiled?” Ginny suggested.

“Exactly.”

They talked for a long while, laughing at silly little things, mostly getting to know one another (or at least as much as Ginny would let him know). He was rather charming, really.

Ginny couldn’t help but smile as he caressed her cheek before taking her hand in both of his own. “It’s so strange,” he said. “I feel like I’ve known you for so long. . .”

“Truly?”

“Yes, I believe I’m becoming rather fond of you.” He gently kissed her knuckles.

She smiled, sitting closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Do you live far from here?” he asked. “Will you be staying long?”

“I --”

Ding . . . ding . . . ding . . .

Ginny gasped, jumping up. “Oh no.”

“What’s the problem?” Harry asked, standing as well. He took her hand.

“It’s midnight,” Ginny said.

“So it is,” said Harry. “But I don’t --”

“I must be going!” Ginny said, heading for the open door of the secluded staircase.

“Going -- going where?”

“I -- well, my --”

“Wait, my lady I don’t even know your name!” Harry said, pursuing after her in the corridor. “How shall I shall I find you?”

Ginny whistled for her broom, and frantic, she lost him on the corner. She could already hear the broom zooming by, but she could feel the fabric of the dress changing back to its original form.

“Wait -- wait!” Harry shouted after her.

Ginny felt one of her glass slippers slip from her foot as she mounted her broom outside of the oak doors, before taking off into the clouds.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, watching him shrink below her. But she smiled slightly as she headed on home. “Thank you, Tonks. For everything.”

---

Personally, I like my little midnight writing sessions, because that's when I'm most creative. I can't help it, I'm a night owl.

My favourite line from this chapter is: “Honestly, ridiculous things, really,” she said bitterly. “You should see Moody with it. And his is pink.” A mischievous grin curled her lips.

My mum even laughed at that!

Anyway, please let me know what you think!

Rescue

Ding-dong! Knock, knock, knock!

“Ahhh!” squealed Pansy, dropping her brush onto the dressed. “He’s here!”

“Honestly, Pansy, act your age,” Millicent said with sharp authority, straightening up to her full six feet and two inches.

Ginny’s heart raced as she silently exited the room into the hallway, and it was beating wildly against her ribcage.

The very boy she loved was standing on the other side of that door.

She leaned over the empty tray she was carrying, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

She pulled her hair away from her face, trying to make it look like it had that night.

“Oh, Ginevra. . .”

Ginny turned towards the voice. “Yes, Stepmother?”

“Stupefy!”

*~*~*~*

Harry sighed, holding the glass slipper against his chest.

This was the last house. She had to be here, or . . . He’d have to marry someone else.

The large door of Madam Sinistra’s opened, revealing the woman in deep purple, a humble smile on her face.

“Prince Harry,” she said with a bow. “How wonderful to see you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Harry said, kissing her hand.

Draco sniggered quietly behind him.

“Come in, come in,” Madam Sinistra said, standing aside and opening the door wider.

“Just stay here,” Harry said to his guard.

He and Draco were led into the house by Sinistra, into the foyer.

Immediately the two young women bounded from their room, only slowing when they set eyes on the two young men in their household.

“Prince Harry,” Pansy purred when she reached him, giving a curtsy.

“Pansy,” Harry said, bowing in turn. “You seem to have . . . Blossomed overnight.”

“You are too kind, my lord,” Pansy said, batting her eyelashes.

“And the same to you, Millicent,” Harry said.

Millicent smiled.

“And this is Draco,” Harry said, turning to his best friend. “He’s just . . . Here,” Harry said, throwing his friend a glare unseen by the others.

Draco looked ready to burst with laughter.

“Greetings,” he said. “E-excuse me for a moment. I seem to have left something in the carriage.”

Harry forced a smile to the others.

*~*~*~*

Ginny awoke with a splitting headache. The last thing she remembered was her stepmothers face. . . .

Francesca had stunned her!

Tears rose in Ginny’s eyes.

How could she do such a monstrous thing?

Her body aching in protest, Ginny sat up. Where was she?

The attic. . .

Ding-dong! she heard in the distance.

Oh here. That meant Harry was here.

Ginny stood in and ran to the door, pounding on it.

“Oh, please let me out!” she cried. “Stepmother, please!”

*~*~*~*

Down in the kitchen, Remus was peeling potatoes.

Remus froze when he heard a pounding in the distance.

“Did you hear that, Hermione?” he asked. It sounded like. . .

“Remus?” the young girl turned to him, currently stirring soup.

“I don’t know,” Remus said absently. “I just have thing strange feeling . . .”

“What’s the matter?” Ron asked, joining Hermione.

Remus went to the end of the kitchen, listening hard. He opened the door to the hidden staircase.

Poof!

“Remus!”

He fell to the floor in surprise as a cloud of sparkles erupted in his eyes and a young woman appeared in front of him. She looked at least ten years older than Hermione and Ginny. Her hair was a very bright green that he had never seen before. She had a heart-shaped face and wore purple robes. Her dark eyes glittered, her face a mask of a fluster.

“It’s you!” Remus gasped.

It was the very woman Ginny had been speaking with yesterday.

“Ginny’s in trouble,” the woman said, offering her hand.

Remus was too stunned. He just stared up at her with an open mouth.

“COME ON!” the woman repeated. “She won’t call for me, so I don’t’ know where she is!”

Remus snapped out of it and grasped her hand. “Let’s go,” he said the other two.

“I’ll go get Minerva,” Ron said, heading out toward the garden.

Remus, Hermione and the young woman hurried up the narrow staircase. Remus had a million questions.

“Who are you anyway?” Remus asked, panting with the effort of keeping up with her.

“Nymphadora Tonks, Ginevra’s Fairy Godmother,” the woman said rather quickly. “But it’s a long story -- I’m sure we’ll get a chance to explain later.”

The pounding grew louder and louder with every step they took.

“Help!” said the much muffled voice of Ginny.

“The attic!” Hermione said.

*~*~*~*

“Oh come on!” Pansy cried as she tried to pull on the glass shoe.

Harry stood there, shifting from foot to foot. “Oh -- please, be careful --”

“My foots swollen, that’s all,” Pansy said. But that was the same thing Millicent had said. “So much dancing last night, my lord.”

“I don’t think it’s going to--”

“Of course it’ll fit!” Pansy snapped. She then forced calm. “It’s got to.”

*~*~*~*

“Ginny?”

Ginny looked up, wiping her eyes with her apron. She had been sitting. “Remus?” she asked, her voice thick with tears.

“Yes, it’s me, are you all right?” Remus answered.

Ginny stumbled to her feet and to the door. “I--I’m fine now that you’re here!” she said with a relieved laugh.

“It’s not just me,” Remus said. “Hermione and Madam Tonks as well.”

“Hermione!” Ginny repeated. “Tonks!”

“Just give us a moment,” said Tonks’ voice.

Ginny stood back and watched in wonder as a pink light filled in the cracks of the door and the pins holding it unscrewed themselves.

Then the door opened, revealing all three of her friends. Elated, Ginny nearly jumped into Remus’ arms. “Oh Merlin, I’m so glad you came!” she cried. “All of you!”

She hugged Tonks and Hermione in turn.

“We don’t have much time,” said Tonks, holding Ginny at arms length. “Your Prince is downstairs.”

“Prince?”

“Long story, the explanation will come when we have time, but we must get her downstairs.”

“B-but -- look at me,” Ginny said desperately, indicating her tear-stained face and ragged appearance. “He will never --”

“Don’t let that horrible doubt of yours creep in now,” Tonks said. “He loves you. He’ll know who you are.”

Ginny couldn’t help the smile and blush that creep up her cheeks. Tonks smiled fondly. “Now come on. Everyone grab hold.”

Ginny already knew what Tonks was doing, but Remus and Hermione just stared.

“Just take my hand,” she said.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Remus grasped her much smaller hand, and Hermione grasped his.

“One -- two -- three!” Tonks said.

And then they were downstairs, right inside the kitchen.

Ginny looked anxiously at the door.

“Just breathe,” Tonks said. “He’ll know.”

*~*~*~*

“I must insist, no more,” Harry said, grasping the slipper from Pansy.

“Let me try it once more,” said Millicent, trying to grab the slipper.

“No,” Harry said, turning away.

“But -- I just --”

“Be careful -- I --”

“No --”

All of a sudden the slipper went from his hand.

Both Harry and Millicent tried to grasp for it, but it slipped from both of their grabbing hands and fell to the marble floor, shattering into many pieces.

Harry froze, staring at the once beautiful shoe. It sparkled in the sunlight.

The whole entire room was silent. Draco had wide eyes, Millicent looked green. Pansy’s mouth was hanging open, and Madam Sinistra looked furious.

Harry shook with his anger. That was it. That was the last of her.

“Thank you, Misses, Madam,” he said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Goodbye.”

Harry whirled about on his heel, rushing out of the house. It wouldn’t be the same, even if he repaired it. He was a fool. A foolish boy, and stupid for thinking he could ever find her.

*~*~*~*

Ginny rushed through the room, noticing the broken glass on the floor. There was a shard that still had a bit of shape: a heel.

“That’s my shoe!” she said.

“Do you have the other?”

“Y-yes --”

“WHAT?” Pansy screamed.

“Just go,” Remus said. “We’ll take care of this. Or rather, Madam Tonks.”

“All right,” Ginny said. “Thank you, Tonks.”

“GO!”

Ginny rushed out the door to see such a sight. There was a rather handsome carriage outside of her home, led by . . . Nothing it seemed. Two men were boarding the carriage, one with blonde hair and the other . . .

Raven.

“Harry!” Ginny cried.

The young man turned about at the sound of him name. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks as she watched him. He stepped of the carriage, looking at her thoughtfully.

“Have we met?”

Ginny silently nodded. “Twice.”

He was closer now, his brow furrowed. “I know you from somewhere,” he said.

Ginny pulled her right glass slipper from her pocket. She handed it to him, before pulling her hair away from her face.

Harry looked down to the shoe, then up at her.

Finally.

He was putting everything together. When they ran into each other in the village, now . . . And the Ball, most importantly.

He reached for her then. “It is you,” he said.

Ginny smiled, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry said, his breathe ghosting on her cheeks. “I have been through so much looking for you . . .”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he cupped her cheek. “I would have found you sooner,
but . . .”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Harry said, his lips very close to hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is that?” Ginny whispered.

“I love you,” Harry said. “There is no one else. I’ve never known anyone like you -- and I don’t want to lose you again. . . And I still don‘t know your name.”

More tears.

“Ginevra,” she said. “Ginevra Weasley. . . But call me Ginny.”

He closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips.

He finally kissed her. Her first, sweetest, most loving and passion-filled kiss. This was real.

Harry knelt down on one knee, reaching for her foot.

“Ginevra Weasley . . . I would be the happiest wizard in the world, if you gave me the greatest honour. . . There is no one else that I love, and I will love no one else. . . I may not deserve it, I’m selfish and foolish . . . But give me the honour of . . . Becoming my wife.”

He slipped the shoe on her foot, and she broke into silent sobs. She buried her face in her hands as everything from the past came crashing down on her.

She fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face in his shoulder, squeezing him tight.

He drew back a little to kiss her cheeks.

“Yes,” she said when she had caught her breath. “I will marry you.”

Harry kissed her again, holding her tight against his lean form. He lifted her off her feet, spinning about with elated happiness.

“I love you!” she said over and over again.

And Draco leaned back into his seat, a happy grin on his face.

---

I tried really hard not to rush this, so if it is, be truthful, please. Oh, and don't worry -- got the epilogue coming up -- what, you think I'd let Sinsitra and the rest of the wench's get off that easy?

Next chapter: Tonks has got some things to reveal and . . . a few choice words for the troublesome trio.

Happily Ever After


Tonks crossed her arms across er chest, staring at the trio with a smirk.

“You thought that you’d gotten away with it,” she said. “Oh I know about everything, my ladies.”

Madam Sinistra puffed her chest out. “And who are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m a friend,” said Tonks. “And I’ve been watching you. I saw what you did to Ginevra on the night of the ball, Pansy and Millicent.” she turned cold eyes on Francesca. “I saw what you did to her earlier today, Francesca. Stunning her and throwing her in the attic. . . And most of all I’ve seen how you treat your hard-working staff. I never thought I’d say this, but you are the lowest of low. Scum.”

Francesca gasped. “Why you, little --” she moved toward Tonks, raising an angry hand.

“And I will be taking them away,” Tonks said, advancing. “They will live with Ginevra in the castle. And they won’t have to do anymore back-breaking labor for you -- especially without magic. How dare you take away their wands. What gives you the right -- especially to your stepson and stepdaughter?”

“I --”

“You never even loved Arthur,” Tonks said. “You only wanted his money.”

Tonks stepped closer, making the woman step back in fear. “I want you to leave. . . Leave and never come back. . . If you do, and if you hurt these people any more that you already have, you will sincerely regret it. . . Do we have an understanding, Madam?”

Francesca gulped. “Wherever will we go?”

“The bottom of the ocean for all I care,” Tonks answered. “Hurry along -- musn’t you pack?”

“Mother, are you actually going to let this -- this -- scarlet woman tell us what to do?” Pansy snarled.

“Yes, I can’t believe you, Mother!” Millicent agreeed. “Don’t let some . . . wreched cow boss you around!”

In and instant, Tonks hair changed from bright green to bright red. An angry red.

“Would you like to test me?” she asked.

Millicent’s eyes were as wide as saucers. She backed away immediately.

“Go,” Tonks repeated.

The three women screambled up the staircase, pushing eac other out of the way and into their rooms. Tonks turned when they fianlly heard the satisfying slam of their doors. Remus let out a laugh.

“Aye -- Good jon, Miss Tonks,” said a voice.

All but Tonks jumped when, in a giant puff of pink smoke, a man appeared amongst their small group.

He was a rather grizzly-looking wizard. He had a long mane of hair, which covered his face. But when he looked up directly at Tonks, the most shocking part of his appearence was his eyes, very mis-matched. One small and beady, the other large, round and eletric blue, which seemed to have a mind of it’s own, for it moved very freely while the other stayed on the young woman.

Oh dear. . . Hermione thought as it swept over she and Remus several times. And she couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her.

“Don’t worry, Madam,” the man said, his voice very matched to his appearence. “My bark is worse than my bite.”

“True, true, Moody,” Tonks said. “And how have you been today?”

Just then, the door opened, revealing the beaming couple.

Ginny’s smiled faded slightly when she saw the back of a strange-looking man in the middle of her foyer, but she squeezed Harry’s hand gently. She smiled over at Draco, who nudged her side. It seemed like she was getting another brother.

At the other side of the room, the kitchen door opened, revealing Ron and Minerva.

“There you are!” Hermione said, turning away from the strange man.

“We couldn’t find you,” Ron explained, sliding his hand into hers. He fell silent when he laid eyes on the man holding his younger sisters hand and the even stranger man in the middle of the room.

“So what brings you here, Moody?” Tonks asked.

“You,” the man growled. “I’ve been watching you on this assignment. . . And I’ve decided to give you a bit of a . . . permanent assignment.”

Tonks’ faced brightened immediately.

“I want you to watch over everyone in this room,” the man named Moody said. “They could all use your help. . . And don’t be afraid to smack around the blonde one back there,” he hadded, jabbing his thumb behind him. “Got a mouth him, he does.”

Draco made a face behind the wizard. “I saw that,” he growled. “And don’t think I won’t be checking up on you from time to time.”

It was then that Nymphadora Tonks jumped into the arms of the man and wrapped him a big bear hug. Indeed, he looked like one that was hugged often. He awkwardly patted her back.

“Oh thank you, Moody!” Tonks cried. “I won’t let you down!”

“You’d better not,” said Moody, drawing away from her and pointing a wand at her.

Remus furrowed his brow. Pink with a star on the end?

“Constant vigliance.”

And then he was gone.

Tonks grinned at the small gathering of people. She sighed.

“Hullo everyone,” she said. “To those of you that don’t know . . . I am Tonks. I’ll be watching over you from now on.” she grinned at the couple standing near the door. “Harry, I believe you have some new additions to your family.”

Harry glanced at Ginny, who gave him a small squeeze of the hand. He stepped to the middle of the room.

Out of second nature, Remus, Ron, Hermione and Minerva made to bow, but Harry stopped them. “Please, don’t,” he said. “Like Madam Tonks said . . . we’re family now.”

Giny went to Ron. “Harry, this is my older brother, Ronald. Ron, this is Harry.”

Thw two men stepped forward, shaking hands. “Hello Ron,” Harry said.

“I believe we have much to talk about,” Ron said, though he was grinning.

“I’m sure we do,” Harry grinned back.

“And this is my best friend Hermione,” Ginny said, tugging on the older girls hand.

“Madam,” Harry said, bowing and kissing her hand. Hermione couldn’t help but blush.

“Minerva McGonagall,” Ginny went on, “but I call her Grandmother.”

Harry did the same for Minerva. “How nice to meet you, my dera boy,” she said.

“And, of course, Remus Lupin,” Ginny said, grasping the arm of her surrogate father.

“Very nice to meet you all,” Harry said. He turned to his friend on the other side of the room. “Draco!”

Draco hurried across the room. “This is my best friend, Draco Malfoy.” Draco gave a slight bow to all of them.

“And . . . Harry and I wish to be married,” Ginny said, joining her newfound love.

*~*~*~*

Indeed, a week later, Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley were married in an extravagent wedding.

The whole kingdom attended the wedding (minus a few disgruntled, not to mention banished witches).

Harry had immediately moved Remus, Ron, Minerva and Hermione into the castle. But Ginny nor Ron could bear to sell the house, so they kept it to stay in every once in a while. Perhaps they would do something with it later, but it was their mother and father’s house a house that they loved dearly.

Tonks had moved into the castle with the new Prince and Princess. It seemed she had taken a liking to Remus Lupin.

James and Lily were delighted when they heard the news that Harry had found his dream woman -- especially James. And they had taken a liking to Remus, as well as Sirius.

Overall, Ginevra Molly Weasley had finally found her happiness -- the one boy she had dreamed of meeting since she was a young chikd. She remembered what her father had said before he died:

“Somday, when your least expecting it, the boy you’ve always talked about, and dreamt of will walk right into your life. . . And he’ll love you for everything. . . He’ll have the privilage to know the lovely young woman that I know now.. So don't ever change who you are.”

*~*~*~*

Colin Creevy pulled the sheet away from the portrait, revealing a glorious picture of Ginny on her wedding day. She stood on a sloping grass hill and wore beautiful white robes and held white roses, looking over her shoulder.

“Oh my,” Ginny gasped as she stared at the portrait, and Harry did much the same, but
grinning.

“Colin its beautiful!” Ginny said, hugging the young man.

“Just think of it as a late wedding gift, Madam,” Colin said.

“Yes, but it doesn’t look a thing like her,” Harry said.

Ginny gasped. “Harry,” she said with warning. “Be charming -- not blunt. . . You are a prince, aren’t you supposed to be charming?”

Harry gave her a pouty lip, and she just smiled.

“And how does the story go?” Tonks said, who was sitting at the table beside Remus.

“‘And they lived happily ever after . . .’”

~The End~