The Wedding by DayDreamingMuggle
Summary: This fic picks up right where HBP leaves off. Will Ron and Hermione FINALLY act on their feelings? Harry regrets his decision to dump Ginny, but will he do anything about it? Bill and Fluer's wedding is a hotbed of chaos and romance.
Categories: Ron/Hermione AND Harry/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 10 Completed: No Word count: 30299 Read: 31505 Published: 12/12/05 Updated: 12/10/06

1. Chapter One by DayDreamingMuggle

2. Chapter Two by DayDreamingMuggle

3. Chapter Three by DayDreamingMuggle

4. Chapter Four by DayDreamingMuggle

5. Chapter Five by DayDreamingMuggle

6. Chapter Six by DayDreamingMuggle

7. Chapter Seven by DayDreamingMuggle

8. Chapter Eight by DayDreamingMuggle

9. Chapter 9 by DayDreamingMuggle

10. Chapter 10 by DayDreamingMuggle

Chapter One by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Hey! This is a fic that I was compelled to write immediately after the sixth—wonderfully infuriating—addition to the series, but I just plucked up the courage to post it here. So, please read and review. I hope you like it!

Harry Potter walked slowly to the end of Privet Drive, his hand in his pocket, presumably to draw his wand at a moments notice, but in reality his fingers wandered from the slightly rough, but well-loved, wood of his wand to the metal of a large golden locket. The metal was warm from a mixture of the late June heat and the warmth of his body. Harry sank onto the curb at Magnolia Crescent, barely registering that this was the very place where, nearly four years before, he had summoned the Knight Bus after sighting Sirius. The thought of his godfather made Harry recognize even more the sense of loss he felt, and he put his head in his hands wishing that the empty pit in his stomach would close and that the voices in his head that were growing louder and louder with every minute would stop. But the voices did not stop. On the contrary, they ceased being indecipherable words, and he heard very clearly everything that was being said.

“Oh, honestly, Ron. Give me that, I’ll do it.”

“Hermione, I am perfectly capable of turning on this
um
this, well whatever it’s called. If the Muggles can manage it, so can I.”

“It’s called a flashlight, Ron, and you don’t seem to be managing to push a simple button. Now, I spent the first eleven years of my life as a Muggle. Give me the flashlight!”

Harry stood up then and faced his two best friends, frustrated, and wishing that would stop bickering. He said, with a bit more force than he had meant,

“You’re both of age! Why are you bothering with that? Use your wands.”

“You’re right, Harry,” said Ron, brightening, “What were we thinking?”

He pulled his wand from the pockets of his Muggle jeans and started to speak the incantation that would light it when Hermione put a firm hand on his wrist.

“What?” said Ron, innocently.

“Ron, you know we can’t. We’re in full view of Muggles. And shame on you Harry! You know the rules. Just because we’re of age-”

“Yeah, yeah, we know Hermione,” said Ron dejectedly, “Anyway, we have to be getting home. It’s late and I reckon the less time we spend outside alone at night, the less upset Mum’s gonna be when we show up early without warning:

'Ronald Weasley, you should have held your tongue. How dare you cause a scene at Harry’s aunt and uncle’s house! Do you know how dangerous it was for you lot to be traveling without anyone knowing that you were? You could have been abducted or killed and we wouldn’t know for days!'” Ron imitated his mother perfectly.

Despite the events of what must have been the longest day in Harry’s memory, he had to smile. The day that had begun with Dumbledore’s funeral had brought Harry and his best friends to this corner on this Muggle street. It had been a very long day indeed.

Harry’s initial happiness at the thought of his friend’s unwavering support in his ambitions to first, return to the Dursley’s then, to go on to Godric’s Hollow in search of clues about his parents and Voldermort, ebbed a bit when he suddenly found himself standing alone under the beech tree by the lake. Hermione had hurried away to send an owl to her parents, telling them that they did not need to pick her up later that night from King’s Cross. Apparently, they were not going to be given the option of granting her permission. Ron had walked towards his parents who were standing, Mr.Weasley’s arm around his wife, near the castle itself, as if moving away from Dumbledore’s tomb would make it somehow easier to accept his death. Harry could all but see the wheels turning in Ron’s head.

What could Ron possibly say to make his mother agree to let him accompany Harry to his aunt and uncle’s house? He doubted that Ron would even broach the topic of Godric’s Hollow. One obstacle at a time. Harry eyes followed the landscape around, picking out his friends mulling solemnly about the schoolyard. Neville was listening raptly to Luna as she walked him slowly towards the Hogwarts entrance, her arm around his waist, supporting him. Harry knew that the train was to leave Hogsmeade station in an hour, more like three quarters of an hour by now, and that it would probably take that long for Neville to hobble there even with Luna’s help. He saw Fleur support Bill as they headed towards the entrance as well, presumably to the point where they could safely Apparate home. Bill gave a wave and a nod to his parents. Mr.Weasley returned the nod, but Mrs. Weasley was much too busy shouting and gesturing hugely at Ron, whose back was turned to Harry, so that he could not tell who was winning the argument. His eyes then fell on Ginny.

She was standing at the very edge of the lake. She had a sort of lost look on her face, but there were no tears in her eyes. Harry felt a painful pang in his chest, and he started to turn away from Ginny just as Hermione emerged from the castle, making her way quickly towards Ginny. Harry thought she had probably just realized that he and Ginny had broken things off, and was rushing to do whatever it was that girls do when such tragedies strike. To Harry’s amazement, Ginny waved Hermione away, but Hermione did not leave. She plopped down on the lawn next to Ginny and Ginny reluctantly followed suit. Harry committed himself to turning away from Ginny this time, noticing that Mrs. Weasley had stopped yelling and was hugging Ron. Harry headed toward them telling himself that he had really done the right thing breaking up with Ginny. Really, it was the smartest thing! He was right on this one. This was one person who was NOT going to die because of him.

As Harry drew level with the Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron and turned to him.

“Harry, dear, Ron’s just told us that he and Hermione want to come with you to your aunt and uncle’s. Now, every bit of me is telling me that this is a bad idea. I don’t think that you should show up at King’s Cross with two extra people for your family to have to deal with-”

Harry cut her off, “Mrs. Weasley, my aunt and uncle won’t mind,” he was lying through his teeth, but so what? “Really, and we’ll only be there a couple of days. I just need to stop by so that the protection-”

“Harry-” Mr. Weasley cut in.

But Harry was already fully committed to his argument, “No, seriously. Mr.Weasley, we’ll really be alright. Isn’t it better anyway that we’re not alone. Isn’t three better than one? Just think about-”

“Harry!” Said Mrs. Weasley sharply “We are going to allow Ron and Hermione to go with you, but there are a few conditions. Hold on, dear. We might as well get Hermione over here so that I only have to say this once. And Ginny as well.”

“No!” said Harry quickly.

Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stared at Harry. He recovered quickly,

“I only meant, no, she’s not coming with us is she? Because
um
I thought she’d be going back with you, and I was just
it threw me off for a minute,” he finished lamely.

The three of them looked at Harry as though he were ill.

“Well, of course she’s coming home with us, dear, that’s why I need her over here.”

Mrs. Weasley caught Hermione’s eye and beckoned her and Ginny over. Hermione and Ginny reached the group and Harry and Ginny avoided each other’s gazes. Mrs. Weasley’s sharp eyes didn’t miss this, but she looked at the girls and addressed them as though she hadn’t noticed the exchange between Harry and her daughter, or lack of exchange thereof.

“Hermione, I’ve just finished telling Ron and Harry that I’m going to allow you and Ron to accompany Harry to his aunt and uncle’s. There are conditions to this,” she said as Hermione brightened, “As you know, Bill’s wedding is in two weeks. As I want all my children at that wedding, you will spend a total of three days at the Dursley’s. On Sunday you will catch the Knight Bus to The Burrow. We’ll expect you at around nine in the morning; catch the eight-thirty bus.”

All three of them nodded and gave their consents to her conditions. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. She pulled Hermione to her in a hug then reached for Harry and Ron in turn.

“When I say I want all my children at the wedding, I hope you know that you two are included in that grouping,” Mrs. Weasley said to Harry and Hermione, “Hermione, you are every bit my daughter as Ginny is, and Harry you’re as much my son as Ron.”

“You’re more her son than that prat of a son, Percy,” Ron said under his breath as his mother turned away from them to talk to Ginny.

Harry was unbelievably touched by Mrs. Weasley’s words, and Hermione was too, judging by the tears in her eyes. The three of them turned to listen to what Mrs. Weasley was saying to Ginny. Harry only turned halfway, so that he could hear, but so that he didn’t have to look at Ginny. Hermione scowled at him as though she knew exactly what he was doing. Ron didn’t notice anything and they heard Mrs. Weasley say,

“Ginny, there’s no reason for you to get on the train if Ron’s not going. You can just Apparate along-side your father. So go and say good-bye to all your friends, dear, and bring your school things. We’ll send them ahead of us.”

Ginny nodded a silent assent and left wordlessly. Mrs. Weasley looked very concerned and wished Harry, Ron, and Hermione farewell. She went to help her daughter.

“Take care Harry, Ron, Hermione,” Mr. Weasley said to them. He shook Harry and Ron’s hands in a fatherly fashion, but when he reached Hermione she threw her arms around him in a hug.

“We’ll be alright, Mr. Weasley. We won’t use any magic around the Muggles.”

“Yes, well,” said Mr. Weasley, looking shocked, but returning the hug, “I imagine you’ll keep those two in line should the need arise, then?”

Hermione released Mr. Weasley and nodded fiercely. Mr. Weasley looked as though a great weight had been taken off his shoulders and he too headed off.

“Well,” said Harry, “I suppose we should get our things and head toward the station. The train should be leaving soon.”

The three headed up towards the castle, Hermione glaring at Harry the whole way. Harry knew why, and hoped that she would not question him about Ginny right now. It was taking all of Harry’s restraint to stop himself from going to Ginny, telling her that he’d made a horrible mistake, and he wanted to get back together. Luckily as they headed quickly up the marble staircase, Peeves squirted ink on the step Hermione had just put her foot on. She slipped backward and Ron caught her. Their faces were inches apart and Harry felt immeasurably uncomfortable. He turned away, wondering if he should somehow wake his friends from this reverie they seemed to be in. He made a noise as though he had something caught in his throat, and they sprang apart as though burned by something very hot. Hermione turned nervously around and began climbing the steps again. Ron looked angrily up at Peeves and began cursing him.

“Peeves, don’t you have any respect? You can’t even stop playing pranks, today of all days? Besides that, she could have broken her neck! What if you had pulled that when we weren’t around. You’d better watch yourself Peeves, or the new headmistress might just boot you out on your transparent arse!” Ron’s face and ears were red with anger.

“Oooh! Weezy’s angry. Look his ears is turning red! Old Professorhead would have wanted Peevsie to play pranks, Weezy. And Weezy’s soooo concerned about Granger!! What’s this about, Weezy?”

Ron looked down at his feet and followed Hermione up the steps. Harry sighed. Well, at least Hermione had forgotten to scold him about Ginny, for now. He knew eventually he would have to tell a most certainly clueless Ron that he, Harry, had broken up with Ron’s sister. But later would be better. He had enough to deal with.

They reached Gryffindor tower, and Ron started up the spiral staircase towards the dormitory. Hermione was no where in sight; she had probably already made her way to the girl’s dormitories. Harry started up the stairs after Ron. When they reached their dormitories, they discovered that everyone else had already collected their things, or sent them ahead to the station. Harry plopped onto his four poster bed and stared about.

“What is it, Harry?” Ron asked, looking worried, “I mean, are you okay, mate? I know it’s been a really rough day.”

“That’s not it,” Harry said quietly, “I was just thinking, what if this is the last time we’re ever in this castle? Hogwarts may be closing; I’m not coming back at any rate, but this may be the last time we’re ever here.”

Ron sat down on his bed as well. He looked thoughtful,

“I’m going to miss it. Lots of good memories. Lots of bad ones, too, though.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, thinking of all of the horrible things that had happened over the lat six years at Hogwarts. Umbridge, Snape, Voldermort, Wormtail, Dumbledore’s death
the list went on an on. Strangely, though, the school still felt like home to Harry. He felt like he was leaving a home he could never return to. He shook the feeling of gloom that had settled over the many other layers of grief and despair.

“We’d better get going,” Harry said, resolutely, “Hermione’s probably waiting.”

So, Harry and Ron lifted their trunks, Hedwig and Pig settled on top of them, and carried them down the steps. Hermione was standing by the portrait hole, hugging Ginny good-bye. Ginny took one glance at Harry and, saying a last word to Hermione, rushed through the portrait hole. Fortunately, Ron’s trunk was blocking his view, and he missed the fact that Ginny had not said good-bye to Harry. Hermione, however, was standing there with her arms crossed, scoffing at Harry.

“What’s that look about, Hermione? What could we possibly have done in the last ten minutes?” Ron asked.

Hermione opened her mouth, glaring at Harry. He sent her a pleading look, and though she rolled her eyes, she did not mention Ginny. Instead she said,

“Six years of magical education, and you two are carrying your trunks.”

With that she waved her wand at the trunks and owl cages said, “Locomotor.”

The trunks and cages left their arms and floated above the ground. Hermione nodded towards the portrait hole.

“Should we go, then?”
“Yeah, alright,” said Ron starting through the portrait hole.

Harry glanced at the overstuffed armchairs by the fire and thought of all the times he had spent there.

“I know,” Hermione said softly, putting her hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I’m going to miss it too. But we’ll be back. At some time or other, we’ll be back.”

Harry smiled weakly at her, and turned to follow her through the portrait hole.

As they boarded the train, Harry thought he was ready to face his aunt and uncle. He knew he could convince them to let Ron and Hermione come and stay. He just didn’t know how yet. He pondered this as Ron fell asleep with his mouth hanging wide open and Hermione buried herself in her book, looking up periodically as though she needed to assure herself that Harry was still sitting there across from her. The train ride passed slowly and in silence. There was no usual banter and Harry couldn’t help but feel that he had never been more depressed. As soon as this thought crossed his mind, the train stopped at the station, and he thought that the forthcoming meeting with his aunt and uncle might just sink him to the nadir of his misery. With a sigh, he stood up. Hermione was shaking Ron’s shoulder gently to wake him.

“Alright, Mum, geroff! I’m up.”

Hermione chuckled as Ron came around.

“Oh, sorry, Hermione. Can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“Harry, do you think your aunt and uncle will mind us coming with you?” Hermione asked timidly.

“They won’t be given a choice,” Harry said confidently.

And the three of them got off the train to face the Muggle world, and Harry’s uptight relatives.

A/N: So, that was the first chapter. Sorry it was a bit long and dull. I had to set up the scenario. But the second chapter will be better, I promise! Please, please review! I crave the reviews! I need them to survive. Not really, but they would be greatly appreciated.
Chapter Two by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: And so begins chapter two. I don’t want to keep you from what I hope might be stimulating reading. Read on, my friends, and enjoy.


Harry was shocked to discover that Dudley had accompanied his parents to the train station to pick up Harry. Harry knew that Dudley had just turned seventeen, and wondered what reason he could possibly have to have gone with his parents instead of slouching off with his friends. And, in fact, this was the first thing Harry wanted to know when he, Ron, and Hermione reached Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

“What’s he doing here?” Harry asked coolly.

Uncle Vernon looked at Harry as though he were a particularly disgusting insect on the windshield of his car. Aunt Petunia was looking questioningly at Ron and Hermione, but Uncle Vernon was distracted by, in his way of thinking, the insolent question his nephew has just asked.

“Well, if you must know, and I don’t think you do, but I’ll tell you anyway, Dudders had an early morning appointment with a university nearby and by the time we were finished there, we didn’t have time to drop him at home.”

“University, him?” Harry gave a short, humorless laugh, “That’ll be the day.”

“Dudley’s bright future has nothing to do with you. Just because you don’t have a future, don’t presume to bring our son down with you.”

As Uncle Vernon and Harry glared at one another, Hermione cleared her throat. The Dursley’s attention flew to her, and Uncle Vernon looked back at Harry as Hermione gave a small smile.

“What’re they doing here?” Uncle Vernon asked Harry scathingly, “Don’t they have families to go to?”

“They’re coming with us,” Harry said, giving his uncle challenging look.

“They most certainly are not!” Uncle Vernon roared so loudly that passers-by were beginning to stare.

Hermione and Ron looked nervously at Harry, clearly trying to predict how Harry was going to convince his uncle that they were indeed coming with them.

“Listen,” Harry said softly, almost menacingly, “The man who killed my parents is back and doing quite well from what I’ve heard. That means he’s coming after me. I lost my godfather, I was considered a freak for a year, then I was idolized because it’s my responsibility to kill one of the most powerful wizards ever.”

Uncle Vernon flinched at the word wizard, but seemed to have his eyes locked on Harry’s.

“In addition to all of that, I lost someone else just two days ago. A man who was more like a father than you have ever been. You met him, I believe. Dumbledore?”

Harry did not stop for confirmation of this fact. He was really getting angry now, and his voice escalated accordingly.

“So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t really care what you say. You see, Dumbledore wanted me to return to Privet Drive, just briefly, once more before my seventeenth birthday. So that’s what I’m going to do. And my friends are coming with me. We’re only staying for two days, then you will never have to see me again, if I can help it. Don’t try to stop them coming. They’re of age in my world, and I’ll be of age in less than a month. You never know, Dudley could wake up one morning as a newt.”

Uncle Vernon mouthed wordlessly for a moment, then nodded. Aunt Petunia looked frightened, and she was clutching Dudley around he neck, which was no easy feat considering the fact that Dudley was now taller than she was, and his neck was as thick as her entire body. Harry suddenly noticed that Dudley was not looking as he usually did in the face of anything that was magical. He wasn’t clutching his bottom or trying to move as far away from Harry as possible. He was goggling at Hermione, who didn’t notice as she was still watching Uncle Vernon.

Harry would have laughed at Dudley’s obvious infatuation with his best friend, but he thought that he probably shouldn’t alert Ron’s attention to this fact. He would most likely fail to see the amusement in Dudley’s little crush, and Dudley might really find himself to be a cold-blooded reptile. At that moment, Hermione moved towards Uncle Vernon, clearly hoping to make a good impression. Harry could have told her that this was a waste of time, but, knowing Hermione, she wouldn’t have listened.

“Hello, Mr. Dursley. I’m Hermione Granger. It’s nice to meet you. Harry’s told us so much about you,” Hermione said politely offering her hand. Uncle Vernon ignored it and started walking towards the car. Aunt Petunia followed, pushing a reluctant Dudley in front of her. Hermione looked a bit disgruntled, and Ron just chuckled at her.

“‘Harry’s told us so much about you, Mr. Dursley,’” Ron imitated.

“Oh shut up, Ron, at least I made the effort,” Hermione snapped.

“Yeah, well, I reckon he knows that anything Harry’s said about him wasn’t anything good, doesn’t he? So, really, it was a bit like you were insulting him.”

“I wasn’t insulting him, Ron, I was making use of what some of us call manners.”

“Look, you two, as used to you two bickering as I am, my aunt and uncle’s car is probably not a good place for it,” Harry said as they reached the parking lot.

“Right, sorry mate,” Ron apologized.

“S’okay. Help me with these, would you?”

Harry and Ron loaded their belongings into the trunk of the Dursley’s car. Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon were all crammed into the front seat. This had the same effect as cramming a bunch of circus clowns into a Volkswagon. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all loaded into the backseat, and as soon as the doors were closed, Uncle Vernon pealed out of the parking lot towards number four Privet Drive.


After an awkward drive home -- Dudley turning around in his seat every few minutes and looking at Hermione who, after a while, stopped smiling at him every time he turned around and instead looked out the window next to Ron -- they were all three up in Harry’s room.

“Are we brave enough to go down and have a bite to eat, then?” Harry asked his friends. He didn’t think the Dursleys were about to give him any trouble about not eating with them at the regular dinner time. Ron nodded vigorously,

“Yeah, I’m starving!” He and Harry started towards the door, “Coming, Hermione?”

Hermione was rooted to the spot. She was staring back and forth between the window and the door.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ron asked, sounding concerned.

“Harry,” she said in a squeaky voice, “These
people, they put bars on those windows there? And that,” she said , pointing to the cat flap still in place on his door, “that’s how they fed you?” Hermione sounded as though she was simultaneously about to cry and start screaming. She looked positively livid.

“Yeah, it is, but that was a long time ago, Hermione” Harry said soothingly.

“Hermione, we rescued him, remember. These horrible people won’t ever have a chance to do anything like that ever again, ok?” Ron took a tentative step towards her and put both hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, “Are you gonna be able to get through a couple days here, Hermione?”

Hermione took a breath, as though trying to steady herself, then she put her own hands on top of Ron’s and nodded, “Of course I can. Manners, remember? Not that they have any!”

Ron looked at her curiously until she nodded once more, and he released her. On her way out the door, however, she threw herself on Harry in a huge hug.

“You never have to see them again, Harry. I’m so sorry you went all those years with these
” she cast around for a word to describe the Dursleys, “monsters.”

Harry looked over her head at Ron, who shrugged. Harry patted her on the back, both appreciating her concern, and wanting to stop the flow of pity coming from her.

“Let’s just go eat, ok?”

Hermione pulled away from him and nodded. She looked back at Ron, and he gave her a small nod of encouragement as she walked down the steps first.

When the three of them reached the kitchen, they found the Dursleys sitting at the table, eating dinner.

“Don’t let us interrupt,” Harry said, “We’ll just get a bit of food, then nip back upstairs, out of your way.”

“You could sit down, we don’t mind,” said Dudley, watching Hermione as he said this.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked at Dudley as though he had grown two more heads next to his own singular head which was the size of three heads.

“Duddy-dums, what are you saying?” Aunt Petunia asked.

Uncle Vernon, however saw Dudley’s eyesight follow to Hermione, and he leapt up from the table as if he had suddenly realized that the seat he was sitting his overlarge bottom on was actually a bed of nails. He pointed a pudgy finger at Hermione, who looked stunned.

“You, girl! You put some sort of spell on my Dudley! What did you do?” he was yelling now, his face purple. He had his hands out in front of him as he came nearer to Hermione who, instead of looking frightened, began to look very angry. Uncle Vernon came almost upon her still yelling,

“You slipped some sort of
of magical aphrodisiac into my son’s food!”

Just as he reached for Hermione, and she opened her mouth to say something, Ron stepped in front of Hermione, holding his wand high waving it right in Uncle Vernon’s fat, pudgy face. Ron was wearing an expression of anger such as Harry had seen on his face only when Malfoy insulted his family. He looked capable of murder. Uncle Vernon had stopped short, his small watery eyes fixed on Ron’s wand. Ron had not spoken to Harry’s relatives at all, but he spoke then in a very low voice that shook with fury,

“Don’t you touch her. And don’t you say one more thing to her. She wouldn’t want that horrible fat bully of a boy any more than someone would want a sharp stick in the eye. The only reason she’s been nice to that lump is because she is a better person than any of you can ever hope to be. Stay away from her, and stay away from Harry. You have treated him like a sack of dung since he was left here, and you deserve to rot in Azkaban. Good thing you’re not wizards or I’d curse you right now. As it stands, you are Muggles so I’m giving you a warning. We’re leaving now, but if you come near her once while we’re trying to leave, I will bind your limbs together, and leave you to rot.” With this, Ron stored his wand and said, still looking Uncle Vernon in the eye, “You two get the trunks, I’m going to keep an eye on him.”

Harry looked from Ron to Uncle Vernon and decided that Ron didn’t need his help, so he started out of the room. Hermione had tears in her eyes and she kissed Ron on the cheek before following Harry quickly up the steps.

“I’ve never seen Ron so angry before,” Hermione’s voice was shaky as she spoke, “This is one step up from trying to fight Malfoy. I didn’t know he had the aptitude to keep calm like that and give a warning. I always thought he’d just jump into a fight. IT must be everything that’s happened just sort of
combusted. That’s the only explanation I can think if.”

Harry said nothing. Honestly, he thought that Ron’s reasoning had very little to do with pent up anger and everything to do with the fact that he was defending Hermione when she had been threatened. Harry thought Ron was probably capable of quite a bit when it came to Hermione, but instead he said,

“Yeah, he was brilliant, wasn’t he? I reckon we can catch the Knight Bus now, and be at The Burrow by eleven.”

“Right, should we send Hedwig to Mrs. Weasley? Let her know we’re on our way?” Hermione asked.

“Nah, we’ll get there before she does, it would be pointless.”

“Right, then. I’ve got mine and Ron’s trunks plus Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go before Ron curses Uncle Vernon and gets himself into real trouble.”

And so Harry came to be sitting at Magnolia Crescent, and after Hermione and Ron got over that moment of over-polite formality that always seemed to follow a show of apparent affection from either of them, they began bickering about the flashlight Harry had stolen from the Dursley’s.

“Should I flag down the bus, then? Harry asked.

A/N: Done! I swear, I really do, the next chapter will be really, really good now that we can get these guys to the Burrow. So keep reading, please!
Chapter Three by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Hey! I can’t believe people are actually reading what I’m writing! I’m thrilled! You guys are what keep me going!

“Ron
as much as Hermione and I love standing and admiring your house, it’s almost midnight. Don’t you think we should go inside? I mean, we’re gonna have to face your mum sooner or later. And since it’s hot, and I’m tired, I vote for sooner.”

The threesome was indeed standing outside the Burrow; they had been standing there for quite some time, in fact. After climbing onto the Knight Bus, Ron gave the new conductor, John Turkletop, his address, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione spent the short bus ride predicting how angry Mrs. Weasley would be. Harry couldn’t help but think that if they had found something else to talk about, maybe Ron would let them enter his home rather than forcing them to watch him pace in the closed doorway.

Hermione opened her mouth to second Harry’s vote to go inside, but she had only said,

“Ron, I think Harry’s-” when she was interrupted by the door opening.

“What do you three think you’re doing!?! Standing out here in the heat in the middle of the night! I know you’re smarter than this! Come in, now!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past Mrs. Weasley, their heads bowed in shame. Mrs. Weasley was, indeed, just as angry as they had predicted.

“Sit down!” Mrs. Weasley barked, pointing at the kitchen table. They sat down, staring at their hands. None of them thought it wise to say anything; it was smarter just to remain silent.

“The stunt you pulled tonight, Ronald Weasley, was even more ridiculous than anything Fred and George could even think of. Yelling at a Muggle! Threatening him with magic! Do you realize what could have happened? What if you had lost control and cursed him? You’d be in Azkaban before you could say ‘Quidditch’! Do you think the Ministry cares that you’ve just become of age? Let me tell you, they don’t! Rufus Scrimgeour is ruthless, and will put anyone in prison if it will make it seem as though he’s doing something to fight You-Know-Who! Foolish boy! Putting that absurd display of foolishness aside, how could you leave without giving us any notice? If Mad-Eye hadn’t followed you!”

“What?” Ron said indignantly, looking up, “Moody was following us? You didn’t trust us?”

“Ron, do you honestly think I would let you three go off on your own with You-Know-Who on the loose? Mad-Eye was watching right outside the Dursley’s house in his Invisibility Cloak. It’s a good thing he was there too! I wouldn‘t have known that you had left, that you were on your own.”
“Mum! I’m not a kid anymore! I’m of age, and you have to trust-”

Mrs. Weasley glowered at Ron, and he stopped speaking.

“I don’t have to trust you at all! You have proven to me that you can’t be trusted!”

“Mum, you have to understand why I did it! He was going to-”

“I don’t care what he was gong to do! You should have held your tongue, and owled me before leaving. You should have waited a few hours for an answer before leaving on your own. Harry’s Uncle could not have possibly done anything that would merit such rash-”

“It was my fault, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said softly, raising her head so that Harry, Ron and Mrs. Weasley could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Ron only threatened Mr. Dursley because he was defending me.”

“Hermione,” Ron said quietly, “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault.”

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione simultaneously shushed him. Mrs. Weasley sat down in the chair at the end of the table and grasped Hermione’s hands in her own. Her expression had softened considerably, and she looked warmly into Hermione’s face.

“What happened, dear? Mad-Eye only said he saw Ron pull a wand on the Muggle and speak sternly to him. We assumed he was threatening him for his own reasons. What really happened?”

Hermione took a shuddering breath and began to tell the story from when they first got off the train,

“So, apparently Harry’s cousin, Dudley, was fairly taken with me. I can only assume that he’d never had another girl be kind to him before, because I only just smiled at him. When Dudley invited me to sit and eat with them, Mr. Dursley accused me of putting some sort of love spell on Dudley. H-he ran at me, he was going to attack me when Ron stepped in front of me and told him that if he laid a hand on me, he would curse Mr. Dursley. He only did it to defend me, Mrs. Weasley, please don’t be upset with him.”

Ron was looking down at the table again, his ears red with embarrassment. Harry was watching Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley reached forward and pushed the hair off of Hermione’s face in a motherly gesture.

“Oh, Hermione
I had no idea. Of course I don’t blame Ron. Or you for that matter. You couldn’t have controlled the way those horrible people’s minds work. It’s not that they didn’t deserve to be cursed, after the way they’ve treated Harry, but Ron can’t go around threatening even the most horrible of Muggles.”

“I know,” Hermione said, smiling at Mrs. Weasley through her tears now, “I wouldn’t have wanted him to go to prison either. Not just to protect me.”

The two women stood up, they were both crying, and they embraced. Ron looked at Harry, his mouth open.

“They’re mental,” he whispered to Harry.

“I know,” Harry agreed, “What are they crying about?”

Ron shrugged, “I don’t know mate,” he grinned, “but it doesn’t look like we’re in trouble.”

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione finally broke apart and they each wiped away their tears.

“From what I’ve gathered, you haven’t eaten since you got off the train. So it’s dinner, and then bed for all of you. Bill and Fleur are here. It made the most sense since the wedding’s going to be here, and they need to prepare. So Bill’s in Fred and George’s old room. Fleur’s sharing with you and Ginny, Hermione. Harry, you’ll room with Ron.”

They ate in companionable silence and then bade Mrs. Weasley goodnight. At the door to Ginny’s room, they left Hermione. She shuffled her feet nervously before opening the door. Harry had the impression that she wanted to say something, but was working up to it. He wished she’d hurry it up. He was tired. He glanced at Ron who, was looking down at his feet, appearing to be just as nervous as Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. This could take all night.

“Hermione, is there something you wanted to say?” he asked, maybe a bit sharply, but he was really tired!

“Yes,” she breathed, “it’s just, I wanted
.thank you, Ron. Really, you didn’t have to stand up to him like that, but you did. So
thanks.”

Harry rarely saw Hermione without words, and every time it happened, he was baffled by it, so this wordy, stuttering thanks stunned him once again. Ron looked up at her and said quietly,

“Any time.”

The two stared at each other, much as they had done that day in Herbology when Ron had softly admitted that he didn’t want Hermione to hook up with McClaggen. Harry was really quite tired of witnessing these exchanges between his two best friends, and he turned on his heel and walked up to Ron’s bedroom, stopping at the foot of the stairs that would lead to Ron’s attic room. He looked back to see Ron, walking slowly towards him. Hermione had gone into Ginny’s room.

“What was that about?” Ron asked, “Why’d you just leave like that?’

Harry looked at his friend, dumbfounded. Did Ron really not realize what had just occurred between him, Ron, and Hermione? Harry just laughed. Ron looked puzzled.

“What? What’s funny?”

“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you, mate. Just think about what just happened. When you figure it out let me know. Better yet, when you figure it out let Hermione know.”

“Wait, Harry! Hermione knows!?! Why does she get to know and I don’t? Harry!”

“Yeah, I think Hermione’s known for a long time, mate.”

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me for a long time, have you?”

“It’s not a secret, Ron, you just don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“Harry? Harry, why do I have to tell Hermione? What do I have to tell her?”

Harry ignored him.

“Harry, c’mon, you’re supposed to be my best mate! Help me out here!”

Ron continued to bug Harry until he climbed into bed and said, resolutely,

“Goodnight, Ron.”

Harry rolled over, and fell right to sleep. Though he thought to himself just before sleep claimed him that Ron would be awake for quite some time.

A/N: Right
I want to be able to start the next chapter from the next morning, so I’ll stop here. Sorry it’s so short! I just changes my e-mail once more, and just so you know, it’s book_lover07@yahoo.com. Drop me a line anytime about anything. Thanks guys! Review please!
Chapter Four by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Welcome to Chapter Four, my friends, when the wedding action really begins. Mwahaha. Read and enjoy.


The next morning dawned bright and cheery. Harry got out of bed and dressed quickly. He had slept well, and he was eager to enjoy one of Mrs. Weasley’s delicious meals. He glanced at Ron who was dressing silently, looking thoughtful.

“You all right?” Harry asked him

Ron only nodded. Harry shrugged. If Ron wasn’t going to tell him what was wrong, Harry wasn’t going to try and wrench it out of him.

“Well, then, I’m going to go down to breakfast. Are you coming?”

“Yeah
Harry, what you said last night? What did you mean?”

Harry grinned, Ron’s thoughtful look now making complete sense.

“Figured it out, have you? Took you long enough.”

“So, it’s what I think it is then? About Hermione?”

Harry shook his head, laughing, and started downstairs. Ron had caught up, the question was, would he do anything about it? That was the true test.

Harry entered the kitchen, Ron now right behind him. He knew Mr. Weasley had already left for work, he had heard him leave. Fleur and Mrs. Weasley sat at the end of the table closest to the door. Bill sat next to Hermione and Ginny discussing his career at Gringott’s. Hermione looked fascinated. Ginny, however, looked very bored, and was poking at the food on her plate. She had eaten quite a bit, but what food she had left was moved all around the plate, as though she had been playing with it for a while now. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were obviously talking about the wedding because Mrs. Weasley had pasted a smile on her face that looked very fake. Harry knew that Fleur and Mrs. Weasley had come to some uneasy truce, but Harry could imagine that it was still very difficult for Mrs. Weasley to get along with the part veela. Mrs. Weasley stood up quickly when she spotted Harry and Ron.

“Are you hungry, dears? Oh, but of course you are. Sit, sit! Have some toast and sausages.”

Harry plopped down in a seat across from Ginny and Hermione, next to Bill. Bill definitely looked the worse for wear from his run-in with the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. He was heavily scarred, but still retained the “cool” personality that Bill had always embodied. Ginny took one look at Harry, then stood up quickly.

“I’m going to go upstairs and feed Arnold,” Ginny said smoothly, referring to her pet Pygmy Puff.

Mrs. Weasley looked suspicious, but said,

“Alright, dear, but make sure you only feed him a little bit, we don’t need another incident like last night.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, trying to inject a bit of normality back into his relationship with Ginny.

“I fed him too much and he threw up all over his cage,” Ginny said, not unkindly, but a bit standoffishly.

Ron, Hermione, and Bill laughed. Fleur looked disgusted and said,

“Eet was an ‘orrible smell. I zought I wuz going to be seeck.”

Harry grinned weakly, still staring at Ginny. She did not return the smile, and walked out of the kitchen. Hermione scowled at Harry again, and mouthed the words, “We’ll talk later.”
Harry felt a thread of trepidation weave its way through his nervous system. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to. Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry, too, but her attention was averted by Bill.

“Right, Mum, I’ve got to get into work to wrap things up. Since I’m taking the week off, I have to make sure everything’s in order for my replacement. My temporary replacement,” Bill added quickly, seeing his mother’s astonished look.

“I shall go wiz you,” Fleur said, helping her fiancĂ©e to his feet.

They bid farewell to the group in the kitchen, then headed towards the fireplace.

“Ron, Hermione, could you please go and help Ginny. I don’t want to have to deal with a puking Pygmy Puff.”

Ron laughed.

“You know, Mum, Fred and George could probably make some money off of Puking Pygmy Puffs. Fake Pygmy Puffs you give your enemies and they puke all over. I think I’ll run it by them.”

Hermione shook her head, a small grin on her face.

“Right, then, let’s go help Ginny.” She looked at Harry as he got up to follow them.
“Oh, no Harry, I need your help with something. If you’d stay here, please,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Did she know that Harry and Ginny had been going out? Did she know he had broken up with her? Was he about to be reprimanded? Ron gave Harry a curious look, but followed Hermione out of the kitchen. When they left, Mrs. Weasley sat down with Harry. This was it. He was really in for it now. What would she say? Would she kick him out for hurting her daughter?

“Harry, as I’m sure you know, I love my family very much.”

“Here it comes,” Harry thought, “She’s going to tell me off for breaking things off with her beloved daughter.”

“But having them under one roof is going to be stressful. However, once the wedding is over, and things get back to normal, I wanted to know what you wanted to do for your seventeenth birthday.”

“Huh?” Harry said out loud. He was shocked. She wanted to know what he wanted to do for his birthday?

“Well, it’s not every day a wizard comes of age. It should be special.”

Harry bounced back from his shock and said the first thing that came to his mind,

“Well, just dinner with you lot. That’s all I really want. Dinner with my family.”

As he said it, he realized it was true. The Weasleys and Hermione were his family. He loved them in a way that a person reserves only for family. Mrs. Weasley smiled at Harry.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “You know, Harry, some wizards that come from Muggle families don’t understand why we come of age at seventeen instead of eighteen. You see, they don’t understand that at seventeen in our world, you’ve been exposed to so much more than Muggles have. At seventeen, witches and wizards are ready, emotionally, to get jobs, even to marry if it’s the right person. Arthur and I married at eighteen only because we didn’t have the money right out of school. My point is, Harry, that, we are able to live and love in a way Muggles can’t. And we know when to hold on to something and when to let go,” she looked pointedly at Harry, “We know at a younger age that we would take many risks for the people we love, and we know to accept that the ones we love will take great risks to continue loving us. So, your seventeenth birthday will be big and special, Harry. You have many people who love you, and you couldn’t shake us if you tried.”

With this, she hugged Harry, who was still taking in all she had said. She whispered in his ear,
“She still loves you, dear. You can’t change her feelings, even for her own good.”

She smiled at him, and said,

“Right, then. Go on up with the rest, and think on what I said.”

Harry nodded, and started up the steps, thinking about what Mrs. Weasley had said. It was true, the people he loved were in danger regardless. That wouldn’t stop them loving him, and that wouldn’t stop him loving them. Was Ginny really any different? No! He was right. He wouldn’t be the reason she was made a target by Voldemort. He entered Ginny’s room tentatively. Ginny was putting on her shoes, while Ron and Hermione watched her.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, he did need to talk to Ron and Hermione, but he didn’t want Ginny to feel like she had to leave.

“Into the village. George is seeing one of the Muggle girls at the paper shop, and so he and Fred are stopping there, then coming up here for lunch. The girl, her name’s Brooke, she’s getting a bit suspicious because she still hasn’t met any of our family, and she and George have been together since just after the New Year. He obviously can’t bring her here unless it gets really serious, but he’s asked me to come down so he can play big brother, and Brooke can see that he actually has some family. See you lot later, then.”

And she walked out of the room. To break the silence before Hermione could begin to question him about his motives for breaking up with Ginny, he said,

“So George is dating a Muggle? Do your parents know about her?”

“Yeah, they reckon George should wait until it gets a bit more serious before he admits to her that he’s a wizard. Dad says that he thinks it’s getting serious pretty fast. And Fred is going out with Angelina Johnson. Yeah, she’s working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and she stopped by the shop at the end of fifth year just as Fred and George were setting up. They’ve been together for a long time. Ginny reckons they’re gonna get married.”

“I can’t picture them married,” Harry said, “Either Fred or George.” Then a thought occurred to Harry, “Wait, Ron, how do you know all of this? You’ve been with me, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Ginny told us, just now. Apparently, Fred and George were round for dinner last night.”

“Speaking of Ginny,” Hermione said sharply.

Harry winced. Unlike Mrs. Weasley, Hermione was most definitely going to scold him now.

“What were you thinking, Harry?”

“What are you on about, Hermione? Leave Harry alone.” Ron said, looking shocked.

“Oh, Ron, honestly, don’t you see what’s right in front of your face?” Hermione said angrily.

“Apparently not, as this is the second thing in twelve hours that I should have seen and didn’t. What am I supposed to have noticed this time?” he asked angrily

“Harry split up with Ginny.”

“Hermione, it wasn’t like that, I had good-”

“What?” said Ron, his face now screwed into an expression of extreme confusion.

Harry and Hermione ignored him.

“Good reasons, hmm? Is that what you were going to say? Harry, it broke her heart, and I can tell looking at you, that it did the same to you. Why put yourself and Ginny through that? She wouldn’t tell me, and she wouldn’t tell me she was upset, but I have two eyes and a brain. What happened?”

“I had to, Hermione, don’t you understand! If Voldemort found out we were together, he would hurt her just to get to me. I don’t want her killed just because she’s with me.”

“Harry, either that is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard or the stupidest!”

“What?” said Harry, “I want to protect her, and I’m selfish?!”

“Yes. Harry, she’s in danger in any case. We all are. Voldemort knows that she’s Ron’s sister and will target her regardless. In fact, he already has, in case you’ve forgotten. There’s nothing to be gained in breaking up with her except that if you broke up with her and she got hurt, you would be spared the guilt!”

Harry looked stunned. Ron was still watching his friends fight, dumbstruck.

“I- this- Hermione, how could you say that? This isn’t to make me feel better. I’ve never felt worse.”

“I know, Harry, I’m sorry,” said Hermione weakly, putting her head in her hands, “But don’t you see. By breaking up with her, you’re hurting, she’s hurting and Voldemort wins. You’ve done this because of him, and so your unhappiness is credited to him. He’s won if you let him rule your life this way.”

“She’s right,” Ron spoke for the first time, “Harry, I’ve never seen you happier, or my sister for that matter, than when you two were together.”

“Please,” Harry said through gritted teeth, “just drop this. What’s done is done. We’re not together anymore. We’ll just have to find a way to be friends again, that’s all.”

Hermione looked as though she wanted to say something more, but Ron said quietly,

“Hermione, leave it. His mind’s made up. I don’t agree with you, Harry, but if you’ve decided, then that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Just then they heard the front door open and the loud voices of Fred and George rang through the house.

“We’d better go down now,” said Ron, “I don’t want to fight about this, Harry, so I’m not going to. Let’s just not talk about the Ginny thing, alright?”

“Right,” said Harry, thankful that he hadn’t lost his best friend over this.

Hermione nodded and they all made a silent pact not to say anything about it again. They headed down to greet Fred and George, and Harry wondered how he was going to go four more days until the wedding under the same roof with Ginny.

A/N: Alright, my hands hurt from writing, so this ends chapter four. Please review and again, I invite you to e-mail me about anything. book_lover07@yahoo.com. Thanks, and I’ll get the next chapter up soon.
Chapter Five by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Chapter Five!!! So, here it is. Read and enjoy.



“Ah! If it isn’t Harry, Ron, and Hermione!” said George’s voice from the kitchen as the trio entered the room.

“Yeah, back from your little adventure at the Dursley’s?” Fred joined in.

“Heard about your outbreak, Ron, and I have to say, I didn’t think you were capable of it. I’m so proud,” George said to a rapidly reddening Ron.

Fred was pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

Hermione looked disapproving. Harry knew that despite how grateful she was that Ron had defended her, she didn’t want to encourage a repeat performance. Harry would have chuckled, but he was too busy thinking through what he was about to do.

“Ginny,” Harry said squeakily, he cleared his throat, and then began again, “Ginny, could I have a word with you in the other room? Please.”

Mrs. Weasley was so busy preparing lunch that she was completely ignoring her children, so Harry was sure she had not heard what he had said. Fred and George exchanged significant looks. Ron appeared deliberately deaf to the question Harry had posed to Ginny, and Hermione wore a knowing expression. Harry would hate to see that expression crumple when Hermione realized he was not about to do what she clearly expected him to do.

“We’ve got a couple of things to say to you lot as well,” said George.

“But we’ll give you a couple of minutes, Harry. Mind you, only a couple, because I don’t think my dear brother, Ron, will be able to contain his curiosity as to who walked into our shop this morning with some rather interesting news.” Fred grinned, malevolently.

“What? Who?” Ron said.

“You see what we mean, Harry? Insatiable appetite for knowledge. That’s our Ron! So run along.” George urged, with a shooing motion.

Harry looked at Ginny, who walked right past Harry into the living room. If Harry hadn’t just asked her if they could talk, he would have sworn she was storming out of the room, but Harry followed nonetheless. When he found Ginny in the living room, she had sat down in a chair near the fire, and was looking at Harry with a cool stare. In reality, she had no idea what to expect next from Harry Potter, but she remained steadfastly silent. He wanted to talk, so he could speak first.

“Um
Ginny
you see. I know what happened
I mean
This is harder than I thought it was going to be.”

“Just spit it out, Harry. You haven’t come to break up with me again, and whatever you have to say can’t top that.” Ginny said curtly.

Harry felt guilt rise in his stomach.

“Look, Ginny, before we started going out, we were friends. Really good friends, and I want us to be friends again.” Harry finished. He had spoken very quickly so that he could be sure he said what he had meant to say before he lost use of his tongue again.

“You want to be friends?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, I do.” Harry said, a little more calmly.

Ginny looked at Harry with an unreadable stare. Well, it was unreadable to Harry, at least. He was sure if Hermione were here she could probably break down everything that Ginny was feeling and what was oh-so-obviously written on her face, but Harry often thought Hermione expected too much of him. He didn’t know how to interpret girls. To him, feelings were pretty simple. Yes, he still had very strong feelings for Ginny, but he didn’t want to lose a friend. Surely she saw the logic here, also.

“Alright, we can be friends again, Harry. You never stopped being my friend. It’s just gonna take a bit of work to make things-” Ginny faltered, looking at Harry as though unsure of how to describe the tension that was unspoken, stretched between them every time they were in each other’s presence.

“Not so weird.” Harry finished for her, “Yeah, I know.”

Harry sat in the chair across from Ginny, and they didn’t speak, but just looked at one another. After a moment, a memory came unbidden to Harry, and he smiled.

“What?” asked Ginny, a tentative smile on her lips, “What’s funny?”

“I just remembered the first time I really saw you.”

“Yeah. When was that?” Ginny asked, smiling the first real smile she had felt on her face since Harry had broken things off between them.

“My first day on the Hogwarts Express.”

“Really? I didn’t think you even knew I was there that day.” Ginny looked surprised.

“Oh, no. I remember a little girl running after the train, laughing and crying at the same time. She wanted so badly to go with her brothers. I didn’t even know who you were then, only that you loved your brothers enough to want to follow them as far as you were capable of going.” Harry paused; he didn’t even realize he remembered this particular memory, but the came to the conclusion that it had always been in the back of his mind when he thought of Ginny.

“That’s always stuck with me, for some reason.” Harry was now gazing into the fire as he completed his trip down Memory Lane. He had nearly forgotten that Ginny was in the room, but for the taut rope of tension that had worked its way back between them.

He looked up her now.

“Ginny, I-” he started. Not really sure what he was going to say; only knowing that this feeling he had in his heart, this aching could not be ignored. He was pretty sure that he, Harry Potter, was in love with Ginny Weasley, although he told himself that this couldn’t be true. He didn’t know what love meant. Then Mrs. Weasley’s words came back to him,

“At seventeen, witches and wizards are ready, emotionally, to get jobs, even to marry if it’s the right person
 We know at a younger age that we would take many risks for the people we love, and we know to accept that the ones we love will take great risks to continue loving us.”

This is what she had meant. She knew Harry was in love with Ginny, and she had, in her own Mrs. Weasley way told him that it was ok to love Ginny too. He didn’t know how he would have finished the sentence he had started, the sentence Ginny waited expectantly for him to complete, because at that moment Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione walked into the room.

He silently thanked them for interrupting him. He may be in love with Ginny, but that was all the more reason not to be with her. He was glad he hadn’t had a chance to spill his heart to her before he had thought about the consequences of such an admission.

Hermione glanced from Ginny’s somewhat disappointed face to Harry’s determinedly blank expression before she shrugged and, with an audible sigh, perched herself on one of the end tables next to Ron’s chair. Fred took the remaining chair, and George sprawled on the floor, grinning cheekily up at the rest.

“Well, you know that our highly successful business draws quite a crowd from Hogwarts,” Fred began, as the rest waited expectantly for a trademark, entertaining Fred and George tale.

They all nodded in agreement with this statement, and George picked up the thread his brother had left dangling,

“This morning we had a customer, one of our favorites,”

“She ordered quite a few love potions not too long ago,” Fred interjected

“Right, anyway, this girl came in today looking sulky indeed.”

“So I asked in my comforting, consoling manner, what the problem was.”

“Comforting, my arse, Fred. He asked what her problem was.”

“I said it in a highly comforting manner, my dear George. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it.”

“Leave off talking about that, you two. What’s the story?” Ron demanded impatiently.

“Patience, little brother,” George said, “Please continue, Fred.”

“This girl, by the name of Romilda Vane, proceeded to accuse us of selling love potions that didn’t work properly.”

Ron’s whole face burned scarlet. Fred and George smiled mockingly at Ron.

“Apparently, no one had informed Romilda of how well our potion had worked. I thought I’d spare you the embarrassment, though Ron.” George said.

“Yeah, you’re lucky. I wanted to tell her how you’d gone nutters over her because of that potion, I was planning to include the bit Harry told us about having to dangle you in the air to keep you under control, too, but George here decided we should play it dumb.”

“So we asked Ms. Vane, How do you know the potions haven’t worked?”

“And she replied that the person she had administered the potion to was now dating someone else.”

“I politely inquired as to whom said person was dating. You see, I knew she was speaking about you, Harry ‘mboy, even if she didn’t know we knew.”

“She then revealed to me that Harry Potter was now dating Ginny Weasley. And how could Ginny Weasley have accomplished this feat?”

“She asked us if we saved the best love potions for our sister.”

“Somehow, through our shock at the information we had just been given, we managed to kick her out of our shop for insinuating that our sister was unable to attract boys without the use of love potions.”

Fred looked at Harry and Ginny who were now both glancing at the door, as though eager to escape the round of questioning that was sure to come.

“Now, George and I felt deprived. How was it that every student at Hogwarts knew that my little sister had moved on to yet another boy,”

“A much better choice, this time, by the way, Ginny,” George added

“And we had no idea?” Fred concluded.

There was a nervous shuffling in the room. It seemed that it was going to be infinitely harder for Ron to ignore the fact that Harry had dumped his little sister. Hermione looked at Ginny, as though to offer her silent support. Ginny and Harry stared at each other. Ginny inclined her head slightly as if to ask, “Do you want to tell them or should I?”

Harry nodded almost imperceptively and Ginny took that to mean that he would tell Fred and George the truth.

“About that, um, you see, Ginny and I aren’t
well, we’re not together anymore.”

Harry looked at the floor while he said this. He waited for the uproar he had gotten from Hermione. He was not expecting Fred and George to be nodding understandably.

“Well, Gin, you do know how to move through men don’t you? Lost a good one this time, you did. And Harry lost out too, I mean, she is our sister, and that means she has the best genes anyone could ask for,” George said in a sad voice that hardly reflected the joke in his tone.

“I reckon we’re gonna have to keep a closer eye on things at Hogwarts next year.”

This last bit of Fred’s statement dropped all thoughts of retort from Ginny’s mind, because she had comebacks for Fred’s and George’s accusations.

“Hogwarts? Is it opening?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“Yeah, we have it from Flitwick that the governors decided this morning that if parents were willing to let students return, that the school would stay open for them.”

Hermione’s mouth was shaped into and “o” of surprise. Harry knew that she was considering her decision to go with Harry this year, now that she knew Hogwarts was going to be open.

“Wait, you heard from Flitwick?” Ron asked, befuddled.

“Yeah, he came in this morning, too. Wanted to buy a bunch of hats with Shield Charms on them to show his fourth years.”

“Oh.” Ron looked as though he was thinking hard. Harry also knew that now Ron was going to have an even more difficult time talking Mrs. Weasley into letting him go with Harry.

“Well, I reckon we’d better go upstairs and unpack a bit.” Fred said.

“What, are you staying here?” Ron asked.

“The wedding’s in less than four days now, you git. We don’t want to miss all the fun. Maybe mum will get so mad she’ll curse Fleur. You never know.” George replied.

“That means Bill’s going to be moving up to Percy’s room. Mum’s going to have a fit. He isn’t coming to the wedding.”

With this, they left the room. Harry wanted nothing more than to discuss the plans he, Ron, and Hermione had made for the next year, but he didn’t want to say anything in front of Ginny. Ginny realized that there was something they weren’t telling her by the way they were watching one another. They were trying to communicate silently, and the thought made Ginny chuckle.

“You lot are never going to be able to have the conversation you’re dying to have in silence, you know. I can tell it’s big and it has to do with Hogwarts re-opening.” She waited for any of the three to say something, but they remained stonily silent, “Alright, you don’t have to tell me, but you could, you know. I’m not about to blab, I can keep a secret.”

Harry knew Ginny could keep a secret, knew she would keep it until her dying day if Harry asked her too. But he knew Ginny, and he knew if he told her, she’d want to come too. Harry couldn’t risk that.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione for confirmation of his feelings towards the matter, and instead found Hermione looking as though she longed for nothing more than to be able to confide the truth in Ginny. Ron looked uncertainly between Harry and his sister, but Harry knew Ron wanted to tell her, too.

“I mean, she’ll find out anyway, Harry,” Ron said, “don’t you think we could tell her. Besides, I’m looking at Hermione, and I’m thinking that she’s not gonna be able to keep this from Ginny.”

Hermione looked indignantly at Ron,

“I could so, Ron, you know I could. How could you say I can’t keep a secret?”

“Right, because I’m sure you’ve kept so many things from Ginny over the years.”

“If Harry asked me not to tell anyone, then I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not doubting your ability to keep a secret, Hermione, I’m just saying that you’re a girl, and girls tend to tell other girls things that are supposed to be secret.”

“Ron Weasley that is the most degrading thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. You don’t know-”

“OK! We’ll tell Ginny! Whatever it takes to make you two leave off fighting!”

Ginny would have giggled at the expressions on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces. They both seemed to be embarrassed, yet triumphant. At least their bickering had got them what they had wanted. But Ginny didn’t giggle. She knew that she was about to be let in on the secret plans she knew these three had made without her.

“Here’s the thing Ginny. At the beginning of last year, I started taking private lessons with Dum- with the headmaster,” Harry was still shocked at how hard it was to think about Dumbledore, to remember all of the little things that had made him the greatest wizard Harry had ever or would ever know. If he simply referred to him as the “headmaster” as he retold the stories of every lesson, he wouldn’t feel the empty pit in his stomach stretch into a trench of sorrow. So he didn’t think of Dumbledore’s patience or twinkling blue gaze as he commented proudly on how well Harry had kept up with the story of Tom Riddle’s. He told Ginny the entire story of Riddle. Harry spoke mechanically, almost dispassionately until he reached the end of his stories about Riddle and the lessons. Now he was reaching the difficult stage of his story. This was the part where he could no longer objectively tell the story. This was where he had to tell Ginny, the woman he loved, but from whom he could receive no comfort, how Dumbledore, one of the greatest men Harry had ever known, had died. When he reached the point when Snape killed Dumbledore, he recounted everything he could remember. Every detail, and it killed a part of him to do it.

Ginny watched as Harry struggled against the burning sensation in his eyes. Hermione let tears silently pour down her cheeks while Ron cradled her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. Harry continued to tell Ginny the plan that he, Ron, and Hermione had devised to return to Godric’s Hollow and find the remaining four Horcruxes. Harry concluded with,

“So now we have to come up with a way to convince your mum to let Ron and Hermione come with me. And I’m sure Hermione’s going to have to reconsider, now that we know Hogwarts is going to be opened.”

Hermione raised her head from Ron’s shoulder, and wiped the remaining tears from her face and eyes. She had an angry glare in eyes that, a moment ago, had been filled with tears,

“Of course I’m going with you, Harry. I told you I was, and I am! I wouldn’t go back on my word.”

“He didn’t mean that, Hermione, he just meant that you’re so talented, and he wasn’t sure that you should throw away your education like that, right Harry?” Ron said smoothly, looking at Harry with a crazed look in his eye that said very clearly, “Say yes, or all hell is gonna break loose here.”

“Yeah, Hermione, that’s all I meant,” he said wearily. He felt spent after retelling the entire ordeal of last year.

As if sensing his depression that was quickly rolling in, Ginny moved to kneel in front of Harry. She cupped his face in her hands and said almost inaudibly,

“Harry, look at me.”

He did. He was very aware of how close her lips were to him, and it was all he could do not to act on the impulse that possessed him. It was the same impulse he had felt after the quidditch match last year when he had first kissed her.

“Thank you for telling me, Harry. You’re brave and good and kind. True, you’re a real git most of the time, but that’s just your personal life.” She smiled.

Harry couldn’t help but smile wanly back at her. She kissed his cheek and said to the room at large,

“Mum should have lunch ready by now. We should go.”

Hermione, still appearing to be angry, but a bit placated by Ron’s compliments a moment before, squeezed Ron’s shoulder gently in what Harry recognized to be a gesture of thanks and walked arm in arm out of the room with Ginny.

Harry put his head in his hands, and saw Ron looking intently after Hermione. Love was supposed to be nice; it was supposed to be pleasant. He had been lied to. Love was not fun and it was not pleasant. He looked at Ron, who seemed ready to echo his thoughts,

“I don’t know how or exactly when Harry, but-”

“You’re in love with Hermione.” Harry finished for his friend.

Ron was not as surprised as Harry thought he would be.

“Yeah,” Ron sighed, “how’d you know?”

“You have the same expression as you did when you took that love potion Romilda slipped into the Chocolate Cauldrons, and since I know everything you’ve eaten today, I was guessing. Plus, I knew you loved her. Hate to tell you, but you always have.”

“Makes life hard, love does.” Ron muttered

“It was the one thing Dumbledore always said could overcome any obstacle,” Harry nearly whispered.

Ron was stunned that Harry had brought up Dumbledore.

“Don’t see how, as it’s just causing me pain,” Ron said bitterly.

“Me too,” Harry thought, but did not say. He did not think Ron would take well to the fact that, in addition to breaking Ginny’s heart, Harry was also in love with her, “Me too, mate,” he thought again.

Just then, a piercing scream came bursting into the living room from the general region of the kitchen where the girls were headed right now. The scream was followed by a crash, as if something had been broken. Then there was silence.

A/N: Cliffhanger. Who screamed and why? Find out. If you want to know what’s happened, please review and let me know whether or not to update.
Chapter Six by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Left you hanging there didn’t I? *evil laugh* I’m sorry, I just moved to a new really boring town and the only amusement I have is to cause my loyal readers and reviewers pain. It doesn’t mean I love you less, only that I’m really starved for entertainment Anyway, to find the source of the scream
read on.


“Harry!” Ron said as both boys jumped to their feet, “That’s mum!”

Ron was ashen faced as he and Harry bolted from the living room, wands drawn.

“Please don’t let her be hurt,” Harry thought over and over. She was like his mother. If anything had happened to her it was because of her relationship to Harry. It would be his fault.

Harry and Ron had almost reached the kitchen when Ginny came running through the doorway, face fixed into an expression of disgust.

“It’s alright, you two, you can put the wands away,” she spoke calmly, one hand on each boy’s chest, restraining them from barging into the kitchen, cursing everything in sight..

“Ginny, what’re you on about? We heard Mum screaming!” Ron shouted, trying to push past her.

Harry, convinced that there was no danger, put his wand away and smiled to himself as he witnessed Ginny successfully holding off her brother, who was at least a foot taller than she was.

“Ron underestimates his baby sister,” Harry thought to himself, “She’s strong. Maybe she’s strong enough to deal with-”

But Harry, in a maneuver that’s very hard to achieve, cut his own thoughts off with a responding argument,

“No! We are NOT getting back together. Get used to it, Potter, it’s the way it is.”

Realizing he was now having a conversation with himself, Harry drew his attention back to Ron, who was still trying to physically move Ginny, his wand outstretched. Harry thought that no matter how strong Ginny was, Ron’s height and weight advantages were sure to overtake her sheer willpower in a moment. He decided to intervene before blood was shed.

“What happened, Ginny?” Harry inquired.
“If this git would slow down and let me explain, I would be more than happy to tell you.”

“Ron, calm down. Your mum’s obviously not in any danger, so let’s just hear what happened.”

Ron reluctantly stopped pushing Ginny and put his wand into his robes

“Thank you. Do you really think I’d stop you going in there if our mother was hurt, Ron? Honestly you have to be the thickest-”

“Ginny,” Harry said firmly, “What happened?”

“Phlegm’s back.” Ginny stated simply.

Harry nodded as if that explained it all.

“Oh, right, what’s she done this time?” Harry asked.

“Why is it that it’s always Fleur that’s done something? It’s always her fault isn’t it? For once, you guys could cut her a break,” Ron said hotly.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot!” Ginny remarked snidely, “Ron fancies himself in love with our dear Phlegm. Isn’t that right, Ron?”

“I do not. I just think you lot could cut her some slack, that’s all.”

Harry gave Ron a stare that clearly said, “Stop talking about Fleur.”

Ron quieted and Ginny addressed Harry, “You’d better come and see then.”

They followed Ginny into the kitchen. Harry expected to see something horrid, a roomful of disgusting wedding decorations, or a large banner that said, “Bill and I are moving in here. Permanently!” Harry smiled thinking of Mrs. Weasley’s reaction to this news, but the horrible things he imagined disappeared as he saw Mrs. Weasley sitting, looking faint, in a chair across from Fleur. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were closed so she did not notice the glares Fleur was throwing her as she looked back and forth between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione, who Harry had just noticed, standing next to the sink holding a roll of parchment so long that the end that was resting on the kitchen floor was rolled several times to indicate even more parchment than Hermione held down the length of her body. A small broom and dustpan were moving of their own accord, sweeping up the remainders of what appeared to be a large salad bowl. That explained the crash.

“Fleur,” Hermione was saying tentatively, “Are you sure you need all of these guests? I mean, Mrs. Weasley has a point. It’s a bit long.”

Harry realized now that Fleur had brought the list of wedding guests for Mrs. Weasley’s perusal. Ron was standing next to Harry, his mouth open in clear astonishment.

“Blimey,” he croaked, “I don’t even think I know that many people.”

Fleur ignored Ron and glared at Hermione as she had been glaring at Mrs. Weasley, who was now being tended by Ginny, and said,

“Of course I need all of ze guests, Her-my-oh-neee! They are all my very close friends, and they would be very insulted if zey were not invited.”

“Alright,” said Hermione, her tone all business, “Here’s what we’ll do. You and I will go through the list together and decide who can be cut.”

“I weel not! None of zese people will be left out of my special day!”

“Fleur, be reasonable. All of these people will not fit in the back yard.”

“We weel find a way!”

“If you don’t want to edit this list yourself, Fleur, I’m sure Fred and George could supply some lovely party favors to give to ‘your closest friends’. In fact, I believe they would supply them even without your knowledge, ” Hermione said lightly, as if she had just told Fleur that she was considering wearing blue to the wedding, and was awaiting Fleur’s opinion on the matter.

As if on cue, the group heard a door open upstairs and Fred’s voice called down,

“Did mum kill Fleur yet?”

“Yeah, we were busy. Did we miss anything good?” George’s voice echoed through the house.

“No. Hermione’s taking care of it,” Ron said, not able to keep the admiration out of his voice.

Mrs. Weasley had sat up suddenly, brushing Ginny’s comforting hand away from her shoulder. Her eyes burned with anger,

“They should not be shouting things like that through the house! Miss anything! Ha,” she was on her feet, heading towards the door towards the stairs, “They’ll be missing a layer of skin off their hides when I’m through with them.”

As she stormed from the room, all eyes were on Fleur. No one was quite sure how she would react to Hermione’s well-conceived, but nevertheless existent, threat. Then, with a grudging respect, Fleur nodded.

“I would be very pleased to have your help, Her-my-oh-nee.”

Ginny looked as though she was about to burst into a fit of giggles, and she walked towards Harry and Ron. As soon as she was able to turn her back on Fleur, she let out a stream of silent giggles. Harry smiled and Ron still seemed to be in awe of Hermione’s smooth, uncharacteristic blackmail attempt. Well, perhaps not so out of character. After all, she had used it to break that Rita Skeeter of her gossiping and habits of writing stories that weren’t true.

Hermione rolled the parchment up, and as she passed by Harry and Ron, Ron whispered,

“That was brilliant, Hermione!”

She smiled and blushed,

“Well, I thought to myself, your mother would lose every bit of sanity she possessed dealing with this, and Ginny would probably just hex her if she wouldn’t compromise. I think I can keep my cool long enough to help fix it.”

Harry smiled at his friend,

“Great job, Hermione. Sometimes, you surprise me.”

Hermione grinned cheekily and said in such a loud voice that Harry knew she was speaking loud enough for Ginny to hear from where she was sitting on the steps laughing,

“Let’s have lunch, then, and Fleur, we can start now.”

For the next half hour, Hermione and Fleur argued. Fleur won some, but Harry was pleased to note that for every battle Fleur won, Hermione won three more. Suddenly a thought occurred to him,

“Ginny, why has Fleur waited so long to send out the invitations? The wedding’s less than four days away.”

“Well, we don’t want people to have a lot of time to spread the news of the wedding. I mean, you’re going to be here, and everyone you’re close to is going to be here, so it’s more for security than anything, isn’t it?”

Harry felt himself redden,

“I don’t want the plans to be put off just to protect me.”

Ginny was the only one who was ever so bluntly honest with him, but truthfully, he would rather she had lied about this. He felt very guilty indeed that plans were held off on his account.

“Harry, it’s not that big of a deal,” Ginny smiled, “I mean, we just send the invitations by owl, don’t we? It doesn’t take long, and people Apparate or Floo to the wedding, so it’s not like immense travel plans need to be made on the guests’ parts.”

Harry felt somewhat better, and he glanced nervously at Fleur, hoping that she had not overheard the side conversation. He did not want her to blame him for anything. But he found he had no reason to worry. Fleur and Hermione were arguing again. Ron watched the two women with obvious fascination.

“Fleur! You do NOT need to invite every man who has ever proclaimed his undying love for you! You met this man once!”

“’E was a very nice boy. I zought zat we formed quite a bond of friendship in the few minutes that we had togezzer.”

“My God, you are impossible! Either you cut one of your family members in exchange for this stranger, or he goes!”

There was a moment of silence in which Hermione and Fleur glared at each other. Finally, Fleur gave a slight nod with her magnificent head and said,

“Alright, cross John off ze list.”

Hermione looked incredulous.

“His name is Jeremy!”

“No matter,” Fleur said in an offhand manner, “’E is not coming anyway, so let us move on. ‘oo is next?”

Hermione stopped glaring at Fleur and returned her gaze to the parchment. It was covered in straight, black lines where Hermione had neatly crossed of nearly three quarters of the original list. There were only a few names left. Hermione turned suddenly red. She faltered for a moment before her gaze fell just a bit lower than where she had been reading a moment before. Harry and Ron looked at each other. She had skipped over a name.

“Who is it, Hermione?”

“What? Oh, um William Smythe, Fleur. What about him? Who is he?”

Harry and Ron knew that Hermione was lying.

“No it’s not, Hermione. We don’t know a William Smythe, and neither do you. You wouldn’t have reacted that way to someone you didn’t know,” Ron said accusingly.

“How would you know, Ron? You don’t know everyone I’ve ever met. I could have met William Smythe. Maybe we’re great friends, and I just never told you about him.” Hermione’s temper was raring.

Ron smiled cunningly,

“But you don’t know William Smythe do you, Hermione? Come on. Tell us who’s invited that you obviously don’t want us to know about.”

Hermione rolled up the parchment and laid it aside.

“You know Fleur, we cut enough people. There are only a few left, and they can all come. We have room.”

Fleur, in contrast with the puzzled, suspicious faces of Ron, Harry, and Ginny, smiled delightedly.

“Oh, good! I ‘ave to go and fetch Bill. If you would be a dear and write a final list for me, Her-my-oh-nee.”

Fleur walked to the fireplace, threw a fistful of powder into the flame, which turned green, said very clearly, “Bill’s office” and disappeared from sight.

Ginny looked at Hermione. They exchanged a meaningful look, and Ginny nodded ever-so-slightly towards Ron. Hermione gave a small nod in return. Harry knew they were communicating in that silent way that girls could always do. Harry thought perhaps that girls talked to each other so much that when they stopped speaking out loud, they could continue speaking in one anothers’ minds without any effort at all. Maybe they thought they were still speaking aloud. The whole concept of having entire conversations in complete silence just boggled Harry’s mind.

“What is it?” Ron asked, all sign of amusement gone from his face, “Ginny obviously knows now, but we can’t is that it? Girl’s little secret is it? Well, if we can’t know, but Ginny can, then it must be someone we know. Let’s think
” Ron gave the impression that he was pacing now in order to help ideas of the guest’s identity come to him, but Harry knew what he was really up to.

Granted, Harry did want to know who it was, but Hermione was obviously worried, not about Harry’s reaction to the news, but Ron’s. Harry could think of only one person to whom this secrecy from Ron would apply.

Ron snatched the parchment off the table.

“Ron!” Hermione grabbed for it, but Ron’s height gave him an advantage. He unrolled the parchment as Hermione stopped grabbing for it, and stood just behind Ron, wringing her hands nervously. Ginny put her face in her hands, as though she was expecting a massive row to break loose any second. Harry knew what was coming; all this behavior could only mean that the guest was-

“Krum!?!” Ron roared, turning so quickly that Hermione almost fell backwards. As angry as he was, Ron instinctually held Hermione’s shoulder to steady her. He did not let go, however, and used his grip to force Hermione to look at him,

“You were going to hide this from me?” he said angrily and suddenly, as if desiring nothing more than to be as far away from Hermione as he could get in the tiny kitchen, walked five paces away from her, staring at her from across the room.

“I wasn’t going to hide it, Ron-”

“What do you call what you just did!?”

“I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to discuss it right now.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d take it badly. Thank you so much for proving me wrong,” Hermione’s tone had moved swiftly from soothing and pleading to sarcastic and angry. The volume of their voices was beginning to increase. Harry and Ginny watched helplessly, knowing better than to interfere.

“I’m not taking it badly! I don’t care if he’s coming, but you could have told me. But maybe you were too busy imagining your wonderful reunion with Vicky! I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, but you should have no trouble picking up with your little affair.”

“You want to talk about ‘affairs’, Ron? What about you and Lavender? At least Viktor and I had intelligent conversations. We didn’t spend every moment together behaving like rabbits!”

“Oh, Vicky was ‘intelligent’ was he? Did you teach him the basics? One grunt for ‘yes’ two for ‘no’, because I think that’s all I’ve ever heard him do.”

“Don’t insult his intelligence like that, Ron. You don’t even know him!”

“But you know Vicky very well, don’t you Hermione!”

“Ron, that’s a low blow! After what you and Lavender used to gallivant around doing, don’t even bring up indecency with me! At least Viktor and I had the sensibility to know what should be done in private and what should be showcased to the entire world!”

“So you did snog him, then?”

“Is that what this is about Ron? Would it make you feel better if I lied and said no?”

“I’m done with this conversation, Hermione, and I hope that you and Vicky will be very happy together! Don’t think too hard about what you’ll say when you see him again. I’m sure his ‘intelligence’ will take over the moment you lay eyes on each other again.”

With this, he stormed from the room, heading out the back door. Harry knew he was headed towards the broom shed. Hermione’s eyes were brimming with tears, and she too ran from the room, presumably up to Ginny’s room.

“Well, that went really well,” Ginny said after a second.

“Yeah,” Harry said shortly, wondering how he was going to manage his friend’s fighting while they were living under the same roof.

“And they’d made so much progress,” Ginny sighed, “I thought, after all they’d been through this year, with Lavender and Cormac, I was sure they’d just give it up and realize they fancied each other.”

Harry was not even shocked by Ginny’s insight. He had come to terms with the fact that girl’s minds could pick up a potential relationship from next to nothing.

“Well, Ron knows now. He just realized. Does Hermione?”

Ginny laughed,

“Harry, Hermione’s been in love with Ron since they met. I can’t for the life of me figure out what she sees in him- he got none of my remarkable genes- but there you go.”

“If Ron fancied her too, why do you reckon he went with Lavender, then?”

Ginny chuckled at him the way adults chuckle when small children ask ridiculous questions.

“Harry, Ron needed Lavender to realize he really was good enough for Hermione. That’s all. Of course, he doesn’t know that. He thinks he did it just to get a good bit of snogging done.”

Ginny’s smile faded a bit,

“I guess I should go talk to her.”

Ginny left Harry sitting by himself. Harry wasn’t even alone long enough to contemplate his next action when Mrs. Weasley walked through the door. She had had a bit of a lie down after scolding Fred and George; scolding them was rough business, seeing as they weren’t the least bit sorry for their comments from earlier that afternoon. Harry wondered if Mrs. Weasley had heard what had just gone on.

“I heard, Harry. I think the whole village heard that row,” Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.

“How could she be smiling”, Harry thought, looking distressed, “Ron and Hermione were fighting and who knew when they would make up?”

“Oh, dear, they’ll be fine. Just give them a little time to realize that they love each other, and that this fight doesn’t matter.”

She used the word “love”. How did she know Ron and Hermione were in love? Ron hadn’t even figured it out until the night before.

“I thought it was you at first, Harry. I was taken in by those articles that horrible Skeeter woman wrote. But then I saw my Ron with her, and it became very clear how much Rita had to have fabricated to make people believe that Hermione was in love with anyone else but Ron.”

Harry recalled that Krum had also been mentioned in Rita’s articles.

“Not even Viktor Krum. Though Ron couldn’t see it; still can’t so it would seem.”

Harry stared at Mrs. Weasley. A thought had just occurred to him. She was reading his mind!

“Mrs. Weasley, are you - I mean do you - Do you practice Legilimency?”

Mrs. Weasley winked and gave him a warm smile.

“Harry, I don’t need Legilimency. I’m a mother, dear.”

Harry smiled, still wondering whether Mrs. Weasley was telling him the truth. He glanced out the window. He should probably follow Ron, but would Ron want to see him?

“I’m sure Ron wants to see you now, Harry. You should go talk to him.”

Harry nodded at her and walked towards the orchard where he knew Ron would be, marveling at the powers women seemed to possess that went beyond the magic he had learned at Hogwarts.

A/N: Alright
what do you think? Please, please, please review.
Chapter Seven by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews. You can never have too many. For now, though, read on



“Well
I have good news all round!” Mr. Weasley said to a nearly silent table that night at dinner.

He had been good naturedly trying to engage the household in conversation for the better part of a half hour. Mrs. Weasley was still weary from her fight with Fleur. The twins were unusually subdued due to the fact that their mother had destroyed a prototype for the joke shop in punishment for their comments about Fleur and Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Ron were not speaking. Ron sat in huffy silence, every now and then glaring at Hermione so intensely that Harry wondered that Hermione’s bushy brown hair didn’t catch on fire or something of that nature. In contrast, Hermione was completely ignoring Ron, never looking in his direction, even when she needed something passed to her that was sitting directly in front of him. Ginny appeared to be on Hermione’s side of the argument because she kept shooting Ron reproving glances. Fleur appeared to be sulking, probably because Bill had told her she could not have a flying carpet fly them down the aisle. He had tried to explain to her that they were illegal, but Fleur insisted that,

“If you cared at all about zis wedding, you would find a way to make zis happen for me!”

Bill had been adamant, however, and he and Harry were the only ones were acting as they usually did.

“What’s the good news, Mr. Weasley?” Harry asked when it became apparent that no one was going to even recognize that Mr. Weasley had spoken.

Mr. Weasley looked gratefully at Harry; he was oblivious to the events of the day, and did not know why his family was behaving so oddly.

“I’ve had it straight from one of the governors this morning. Hogwarts is going to be opened again!”

There was a moment of unresponsive silence in which Mr. Weasley looked eagerly about for some sign of excitement, joy, even disappointment, just some emotion that didn't suggest that everyone in the kitchen was devoid of feeling.

Finally, Harry spoke up again,

“Yeah, we know, Mr. Weasley.”

Mr. Weasley’s face fell. It was clear that he had hoped to be the first to deliver this news.
“But how? The governor only voted this morning!”

“Fred and George told us,” Harry said, feeling genuinely sorry for Mr. Weasley. He was trying so hard to have a normal meal, and now he didn’t even get to share the news he had clearly been waiting with great anticipation to deliver.

“How did you find out, boys? Surely those Extendable Ears weren’t involved?”

Fred and George looked angry.

“Dad, we don’t use our stuff to do illegal things!” George insisted.

“Yeah, honestly, we cross lines, but listening in on governors’ meetings is generally frowned upon. We try not to break the law,” Fred added, looking disgusted that his father had even suggested that Fred and George had committed a minor crime.

Mr. Weasley was obviously confused and flustered now. Under normal circumstances, his accusations would have been brushed off with a joke and a laugh from Fred and George. He seemed to tire of trying to hold the meal together, and looked around,

“What did I miss, eh? Why are you all sitting there like lumps? Will someone kindly explain what went on today while I was at work?”

There was a mixture of mumbled words in which,

“Nothing”, “Never mind”, and “It’s no big deal” were uttered.

Mr. Weasley shrugged, and changed the subject,

“So, Fleur, when does your family arrive?”

Fleur brightened a bit. It appeared that this was a topic that she was interested in.

“Zey arrive tomorrow evening.”

“Good. That means I need to have a talk with you lot about the sleeping arrangements,” Mr. Weasley said, pointing to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George.

“Arthur,” Mrs. Weasley’s voice had a warning note in it, “We haven’t decided for sure that this arrangement is entirely safe.”

“Molly, don’t worry. We don’t really have a lot of options. Besides, it’s only for a few nights.”

Mrs. Weasley gave him a look that said he was in trouble for bringing this up without her knowledge or consent, but she nodded, just the same. The six teenagers were sitting up straighter in their chairs. This was going to be too interesting to continue to be sulky. Harry thought to himself that there was no way all the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur’s family were going to fit under The Burrow’s roof.

“As you know,” Mr. Weasley began, “there is not enough room here to accommodate so many people, so Molly and I decided,”

Mrs. Weasley gave a snort which Mr. Weasley ignored and continued,

“that we would have to make arrangements for you lot to stay somewhere outside the house.”

“You mean, like an inn or something?” Fred asked.

“George and I could stay in the flat above the joke shop,” George offered, though Harry noticed that he did it half-heartedly. He and Fred had been so looking forward to witnessing the events in the days leading up to the wedding.

“Yes, that was part of the plan, but that still leaves you four. Seeing as we still want you very close by - you can’t all Apparate-”

“Only perfect Hermione,” Ron muttered. Harry was the only one who heard his sarcastic remark, and he elbowed Ron in the ribs to silence him. Mr. Weasley was still speaking.

“So the backyard was the perfect location.”

Ginny looked horrified,

“You’re kicking your own flesh and blood out to sleep in the yard?” she yelled.

“No, Ginny, I’m not just kicking you out,” Mr. Weasley answered her patiently, “I borrowed Perkins’s tents that we used at the World Cup, remember? So, Harry and Ron will share a tent and Ginny you and Hermione will share the other. Charlie arrives tomorrow as well. He has to put in a full day of work, so he should be in late. He’s taking off work after tomorrow until the wedding is over. This means that Bill and Charlie can take Percy’s room,” Mr. Weasley said his son’s name quickly, but it did not stop Mrs. Weasley from paling a bit, “Mr. and Mrs. Delacour can take Fred and George’s room; that means I want all your work cleared out tonight, boys. And Fleur and her sister can take Ginny’s room.”

“Oh, Gabrielle’s coming?” Harry inquired politely, seeing that Mrs. Weasley was still upset at the mention of Percy, and wanting to steer the topic of conversation away from anything that could be linked to Percy’s absence.

“Ooh, yes, and I can tell you zat she has talked of nuzing for nearly three ‘ole years except ‘Arry Potter.”

This made Harry very uncomfortable, and he felt himself turning red against his will. He had meant to get everyone’s minds off of Percy, but not at the cost of learning that Fleur’s little sister had a crush on him. Harry felt, rather than saw, Ginny watching him.

“Well, um, it’ll be nice to have your family here, then.” Searching frantically for something to say that could not possibly cause him further embarrassment. He settled on the wedding itself,

“So, Fleur, what’s the wedding going to look like? I’ve never been to a wedding.”

To Harry’s immense relief, Fleur was off. She spoke of flowers and gowns and colors, and Harry was no longer required to join into the conversation. Ginny had stopped staring at Harry, just as Hermione had put an end to her distant, cold manner. Both girls and Mrs. Weasley were listening raptly. Harry took this opportunity to ask Mr. Weasley a question he had been longing to have answered since he had formulated his plans to go in search of the remaining Horcruxes.

“Mr. Weasley? When is the next Apparition exam? I need to take it, and so does Ron.”

Ron leaned forward in interest.

“The test is scheduled for the 11th of August. There should be an owl coming shortly to ask if you’ll be taking it.”

This reminded Harry that he had yet to let Hedwig out since he had arrived the night before, and he made a mental note to do so as soon as he got upstairs.

Mr. Weasley became involved in a conversation with Bill, and that left Harry free to whisper unheard with Ron.

“Does that mean we’re staying here until we pass the test, Harry?” Ron inquired, sounding anxious.

“Yeah, I guess so. No point in trying to fly or use the Knight Bus, is there? Too many questions, and we wouldn’t want to carry brooms with us, would we?”

Harry felt both relief and disappointment at having to wait until August to begin his journey. He had at least a month and a half to enjoy himself in peace at the Weasleys, but he also wanted to find the Horcruxes, destroy them, and face Voldemort. He realized now that the people he loved were the most important things in his life, and though he wanted very much to have time to just spend with them, he also wanted to get the inevitable done and over with. Until he did, the people he loved remained in danger. Ron looked a bit less worried,

“I guess that means I have a little while to come up with an argument for Mum.”

“Technically, Ron, you’re of age, so you don’t need one.”

“Yeah, but I hate to leave against her will, you know? I mean, I will, if it comes down to it. I just hope it doesn’t.”

“I know. I hope so, too, mate. I don’t want her to be upset on my account.”

Silence fell between them, and Harry knew they were both considering the odds of leaving the Burrow with Mrs. Weasley’s blessing. They were rather slim odds, very slim, indeed. Deciding not to dwell on this, Harry tuned in to the conversation about the wedding. Hermione was speaking now, and Fleur, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were all listening to her, unable to control gasps of joy and approval as she told them what she envisioned for her wedding,

“Well, since my parents are Muggles, I’m quite fond of Muggle weddings. Of course, the ceremony will be a magic ceremony, but I want to wear Muggle wedding clothes. I want a dress with a large skirt, white, with beads and pearls. And I want the ceremony to be at night. The aisle will be lined with candles. Hundreds of candles. And there will be a type of awning where I’ll stand with R- with my husband,” Hermione covering her very obvious mistake, blushing furiously, but she seemed to know that if she stopped speaking, what she had started to say would become even more evident. Ron had not heard her slip up; he was talking to Mr. Weasley about Apparition. Hermione continued,

“So, um, you see, in Muggle ceremonies, it’s traditional that the father walks his daughter down the aisle and gives her away.”

“ ‘E gives his daughter away! ‘Ow cruel!” Fleur looked stunned.

Hermione laughed, her cheeks still pink from her slip-up a moment before, but obviously glad Fleur was distracted enough to ask questions. Hermione continued to explain the basics of Muggle weddings, and Harry looked at Ginny and Mrs. Weasley to see if they had noticed what Hermione had nearly said. Ginny caught Harry’s eyes and grinned. She had most definitely noticed. Mrs. Weasley looked as though she was ready to burst into tears, though she was smiling very widely.

Harry pondered the reasons that women felt compelled to cry, even when they were not upset. Harry quickly stopped pondering, however, and deemed this an unsolvable mystery. He did know, however, that he was ready to go upstairs, and talk to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. He hadn’t really had a chance to discuss the possible locations of the Horcruxes with them yet, and he wanted desperately to feel as though he was on top of the situation. He wondered vaguely how he was going to get Ron and Hermione to sit in the same room together. They’d never rowed at the Burrow before, and Harry wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

“Right, well, we’d best get the table cleared, then,” Mrs. Weasley said, her tears gone, and the wedding discussions over. “And you lot had better round up whatever you’ll need to take out to the tents with you tomorrow.” She looked sternly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, and said knowingly,

“Be sure, I’m putting spells on those tents. Girls will not enter the boys’ tent and vice versa, do you understand. If you all want to be together, you will come into the house, or sit in plain view in the yard where I can see you from the window. Understood?” Nods and murmurs sounded from the four embarrassed teenagers, and Fred and George appeared to be in much better spirits. They had not spoken since Mr. Weasley had accused them of using their products to break the law. But their voices seemed to return at this fresh attempt to mock Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

“Did you hear? There will be no snogging in the yard. Is that understood?” George said with mock severity.

“Oh, but, George, Harry and Ginny aren’t dating and neither are Ron and Hermione. So why on earth would there be snogging in the yard?” Fred asked, screwing up his face in fake concentration.

“Well, let me explain it to you, Fred. You see Harry and Ron are boys and Ginny and Hermione are girls. And you see when boys and girls are left alone together-”

“Fred, George you stop that this instant!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked at her sons, who took the abuse with grins.

“Sure, Mum.” George said.

“Yeah, we were only joking,” Fred added.

“Sort of,” George interjected.

“Well, we were mostly joking. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to gather our things, and go back to the shop, as it appears we are greatly unappreciated by our own kin.”

And they left the room, Mrs. Weasley shaking her head, and muttering to herself. Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur had not heard any of the last except for Mrs. Weasley’s yelling and Fred and George’s departure, so they did not look at the four with questioning eyes. The four had become very silent and suddenly interested in objects such as a spoon, a picture on the wall, a small bug that was creeping unknowingly to its death in the sink, and a plant on the counter. All of these objects seemed to prevent them from looking at one another and Mrs. Weasley.

“So, I’ve got to let Hedwig out.” Harry said finally, feeling that he had to get out now.

“Yeah, Pig needs to be let out too,” Ron joined in.

“I should feed Crookshanks, so Ginny needs to come protect Arnold. Crookshanks is always trying to get hold of him,” Hermione’s voice quivered with embarrassment, and Ginny nodded fervently.

They all rushed from the room. They stopped at the landing next to Ginny’s door. Ron and Hermione seemed to have momentarily forgotten their argument after the shared humiliation of the moment before, but as they stopped, their animosity was quickly remembered. Ron glared at Hermione again, and Hermione made to open Ginny’s door,

“Goodnight, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry put his hand over hers on the doorknob,

“Hold on a minute, Hermione. I know you’re angry with Ron, and it’s stupid, but that’s beside the point,” he said quickly as Hermione glared and Ron made a noise like a low growl in his throat, “I need to talk to all of you. So do whatever it is you need to do to mentally accept that you’re gonna have to be in the same room with Ron. I need to ask you guys what you think the next step should be with this whole Horcrux thing, so do whatever it takes, but be in Ron’s room in ten minutes.”

Hermione looked scathingly at Harry, continued to ignore Ron, and walked into Ginny’s room without a word. Ron gave a derisive snort and stormed off up the stairs, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

“So, that went well. Very smooth, Harry.”

“Well, I’ m sick of dealing with them fighting. They had a row, so what? We know they love each other. Hermione made it pretty clear tonight that she’s seeing herself in a white dress standing next to none other than Ron, himself! She knows it, he knows, it, even your mum knows it! So they had a row! It happens! Especially to them, but they have to be able to be in the same room together. Work whatever magic it is that you have, Ginny, use your feminine whiles or whatever. Get her and yourself up to Ron’s room in ten minutes, ok?”

Ginny’s face darkened,

“My feminine whiles? What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I’m some sort of veela? Oh, but of course, you must be confusing me with the girl you would obviously rather be with. I’m not Gabrielle!”

Harry was so taken aback that he laughed. This was a mistake. Ginny glowered.

“Ginny, Gabrielle can’t be more than eleven years old.”

“You like them young, though don’t you Harry? Look at me, I’m younger then you, but maybe just not young enough.”

“This is insane, Ginny! How can you even suggest that? Especially when I’m-” he stopped himself from saying “I’m in love with you,” and instead finished lamely with,
“still upset over you.”

Ginny looked less angry, though her eyes were still flashing, and said shortly,

“We’ll be up in ten minutes.”

Harry walked up the stairs, shaking his head. Breaking up with Ginny had been hard enough. The aftermath of breaking up with Ginny was ten times worse. She had never acted this way before, and Harry wondered why she was behaving this way now. He reached the door to Ron’s room and thought that this was going to be a very interesting meeting.

A/N: Sorry to end the chapter there. The conversation they’re going to have is gonna be pretty in depth and long, and-quite frankly- I’m so tired that I don’t think I could write it to my full ability. Sry this chapter was pretty crappy, but I needed some transition from the fight to this important conversation. I tried to throw in some entertaining and prophetic bits (like Hermione’s slip up). So, if you have a heart, please review this pitiful chapter. I just wanted to update quickly for you guys. I apologize again.
Chapter Eight by DayDreamingMuggle
A/N: So, I apologized for the last chapter, but there’s some insights here that maybe you guys will find interesting. So read, and enjoy, my friends. Read and enjoy.


Harry reached Ron’s room, and he entered to find Ron letting Pig out the window.

“Listen, Ron, I meant what I said down there. You two are gonna have to be able to be in the same room together. I need both of you if I’m gonna solve this thing.”

Ron grunted, “I’ll be there, but just to help you. I’m not saying anything to her.”

Harry was exasperated, and he opened Hedwig’s cage with a loud clang. She hooted at him, disgruntled, and flew out the window without even a backwards glance.

“Great. Now I’ve made her mad as well. I’m on a roll tonight,” Harry thought. He turned to Ron, who was sitting on his bed. Harry sat likewise, cross-legged on his camp bed, and looked at Ron, who was pulling at a loose thread in his blanket.

“Ron, why do you let this happen? You and Hermione are just getting there, and you let someone or something come between you? As I recall, last time it was Krum as well. You know that’s been over for years. You’re aware that there’s no Hermione substitute here. This isn’t school, and you can’t turn around and use Lavender.”

Ron looked up, “I wasn’t using Lavender.’

Harry smirked, and Ron inclined his head slightly, as if awarding Harry a point,

“Ok, yes I was, but she’s excited that Krum’s gonna be here Harry, I can tell.”

“Well, they’re pen pals, aren’t they? They’re friends. You don’t get upset that Hermione’s happy to see me.”

“Well, you didn’t snog her, did you?”

For a minute, Ron looked panicked.

“You didn’t, did you?”

Harry laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

“Ron,” he said when he could catch his breath, “no. I love Hermione, I really do, but she’s like my sister.”

“I had to ask, I’m sorry. That was stupid. But I can’t get over it. She still has feelings for him.”

Harry shook his head. It was pointless to try and bring Ron to his senses. At times, Harry wondered if Ron had any senses to come to, but he let the discussion fall to the floor as they heard a sharp knock on the door. Harry waited for Ron to answer it, it was his room, after all, but Ron made no move towards the door. Harry sighed and got up to answer the door. Hermione stormed straight past him and sat, leaning against Ron’s bed so that she didn’t have to look at him. Harry stood in the doorway,

“Well, hi to you too, Hermione, glad you could get past your issues,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Ginny giggled softly, and said in a whisper to Harry, “Look, Harry, I’m sorry about, well, what I said before. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not that person; I don’t get jealous of other girls for no reason.”

“I know you’re not, that’s why it shocked me.”

“Blame it on stress. Or you could blame it on Ron and Hermione. That seems as much a reason to have a break down as any. I had to really twist her arm to get her to come.”

“Yeah, I had to twist Ron’s to keep him from leaving.”

“What are you two whispering about over there? I thought you wanted to talk, Harry. If not, then I’m going to bed,” Hermione called, a note of anger in her voice.

Harry grimaced and Ginny laughed, but they went into the room.

Harry returned to his cross-legged position on his bed. Ginny sat on the end of his bed, facing Ron and Hermione, who were not looking at each other.

“So, Harry, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Hermione’s voice had become much warmer and almost tentative. Harry thought he knew why. She was about to bring up Dumbledore, and she didn’t want to upset Harry any more than necessary.

He was right.

“You gave us the whole rundown of what happened. I hate to say this, but
”

“Spit it out, Hermione,” Harry said, wanting to hear her opinions. Maybe she had picked up something Harry had missed in his many recollections of that night.

“Well, don’t get mad, Harry, but it just doesn’t add up. The way Snape killed Dumbledore.”

Everyone glared at her, “Look,” she said quickly, “I hate Snape, I’m not defending him.”

“Honestly, Hermione, he killed Dumbledore! What’s it going to take to convince you that he’s a bad guy?” Ron hissed scathingly.

Hermione ignored him and continued to look at Harry, whose eyes had turned cold at the mention of Snape’s name.

“Hear me out, Harry. It just doesn’t fit. Snape’s saved you before. From what you told us, he saved you again that night when he stopped a Death Eater killing you.”

“He told the Death Eater that I was to be left for Voldemort.”

Ginny and Ron flinched at the mention of the name, but Hermione spoke anyway.

“Harry, why would Voldemort care who killed you as long as the job got done?” Hermione said bluntly, clearly hating to speak of Harry being killed, but finding it necessary to mention in order to make her point.

“Well, the prophecy says that one of us must kill the other, so he knows he has to kill me, doesn’t he?”

“Harry, he’s never heard the whole prophecy. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Even if he’s guessed because of the ‘Chosen One’ stuff that’s been printed in the Daily Prophet, isn’t that more of a reason to have you killed by his Death Eaters. If you’re dead, then you can’t destroy him.”

She was making sense, and Harry didn’t like it. As if sensing his need to brush her evidence off, Hermione continued before he could say anything,

“Snape also told you to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, isn’t that what you told us? Well, that’s sound advice for Occlumency, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but the fact remains that he killed Dumbledore, Hermione! Are you completely overlooking the most important thing?”

“But he made an Unbreakable Vow. He had to, and I hate him for doing it, but who’s to say Dumbledore didn’t know what the conditions of the Unbreakable Vow were? When Malfoy failed to kill him, Dumbledore knew Snape would have to. I’m still reeling from the way you described it happening. Harry, I just don’t see Dumbledore begging for his life. I think there was something else going on that we don’t know about.”

The room was quiet. All eyes were on Harry. They were waiting for a patented Harry blow-up, but instead, Harry said wearily, “What you’re saying makes sense, Hermione, but I saw it happen, and you can’t fake the kind of hatred that Snape showed for Dumbledore that night. It was horrible.”

“I know, Harry,” Hermione said softly, “Snape’s a horrible man. If I met him on the street, I’d have a thing or two to say to him, or curse him with, but the fact is, there are factors here that don’t fit into the whole ‘Snape is just an evil Death Eater’ theory. I believe Dumbledore had to know more than the fact that Snape was truly sorry about his Death Eater activities to trust him again.”

There was silence, while Harry nodded.

“You’re right,” he said.

Three jaws simultaneously dropped to the floor.

“What? Harry, you don’t think Snape’s still on our side?” Ron asked, incredulous.

“I hate him. I hate him almost as much as Voldemort and I’d kill him if I could find him, but Hermione’s right about there being holes in what we know. We could ask Lupin.”

“He’s coming for the wedding,” Ginny spoke for the first time. She had been listening intently, but not questioning or adding her input.

“Oh, but he wasn’t on that list Fleur had,” Harry said, side-tracked from the Snape discussion.

Hermione and Ginny laughed.

“Harry that was just Fleur’s list of guests. It’s Bill’s wedding, too. Of course he would want members of the Order to be there.”

“Oh, alright. We can talk to Lupin about it after the wedding, then. I don’t think he’ll know anything, or he would have told us before now, but I can’t think of anyone else who would know. Maybe someone at Hogwarts, a teacher maybe, but Lupin’s really the only one I can think of that would tell us if he knew anything.”

“I’ve been thinking, Harry,” Ginny started now, her mind had obviously been wandering while he had decided to talk to Lupin, “You said that Malfoy was lowering his wand when the other Death Eaters came. Do you think he’s come back to our side?”

“No,” Harry said bitterly, “He was gonna curse me with an Unforgivable Curse last year, in case you’ve forgotten. Just because he didn’t have the guts to kill Dumbledore, doesn’t mean he’s on our side. He’d have so much more to do on Voldemort’s side.”

“I feel a bit sorry for him. After all, Voldemort did threaten his family. He was forced into it. Of course, I still don’t like him. It’s just that it’s not pure hatred now. There’s a little pity mixed in there too,” Ginny said.

Ron looked as though he would agree if he wasn’t afraid of Harry’s reaction. He was just as shocked as the rest when Harry, himself said, “Yeah, I feel a bit sorry for him too.”

“I don’t,” Hermione said, her eyes cold and unyielding, “that little ferret doesn’t deserve anyone’s pity. It’s the path he would have gone down anyway.”

The other three shuffled nervously. None of them had ever heard her speak with such hatred before. Harry thought it probably had more to do with the fact that Malfoy had very nearly killed Ron the year before than with all of the grief he had caused Hermione herself with taunts and harsh words. As if realizing how uncomfortable she was making everyone, Hermione said,

“Well, now that I’ve said that, what did you want to talk about Harry?”

“I thought you lot might have ideas about where the next Horcruxes might be after we leave Godric’s Hollow.”

“You’re so sure that there will be one there?” Hermione asked.

“Well, yeah. Voldemort thought that by killing me, he was going to eliminate anything that could stop him. So, you’d think that Godric’s Hollow would be a good place to hide one. Besides that, I want to visit my parents’ graves. I never have, and after seventeen years, I think I should,”

Ginny put a hand on Harry’ shoulder, sensing Harry’s guilt, and whispered, “Harry, you never had a chance to visit them. It’s not your fault.”

Harry smiled weakly at her and replied,

“I should have made time. But regardless, I need to go, and I’m hoping that there’s going to be a clue there.”

“It would make sense that there would be one there, even if Voldemort hadn’t planned on killing you there, Harry,” Hermione said.

“What’s that, then?” Harry was shocked. What other ties did Voldermort have to Godric’s Hollow?

“Well, the village was named for Godric Gryffindor, wasn’t it? He grew up there, and after he passed on, the town was named after him.”

At the flabbergasted looks on everyone’s faces, Hermione sighed impatiently, “I read it in A Biography of the Hogwarts Founders. Honestly, don’t you lot ever read?”

Harry felt suddenly lighter.

“Is the house where Gryffindor grew up still there?”

“I believe so. When he died, his friends and family put spells on the house, to keep it standing, I mean. No normal house could have made it through this many centuries without help.”

“I think there might be a Horcrux there,” Harry said eagerly, “I think we just got one step closer.”

Everyone seemed to be in better spirits, and Ginny said, “Well, Hermione and I had better be off to bed. We have to get up in the morning.”

“What for?” Ron asked

“Hermione talked so much about Muggle wedding clothes that Fleur decided she wanted the girls in gowns instead of dress robes. She also made Hermione a bridesmaid.”

Hermione blushed, “She didn’t have to, I mean, I wouldn’t mind just sitting with the rest.”

“But Fleur said Hermione was basically part of the family, so she was going to be like a sister anyway. Bill’s all upset because this means he has to put a stop to the dress robes that the French woman, Madame Dubois, was making for Fleur, Ginny, and Gabrielle. He also has to go into the office again so he can change his money for Muggle money. We’re all going down to the Bridal Shop in the village so that Fleur can find a Muggle dress, and she can find some bridesmaids dresses for me, Hermione, and Gabrielle.”

Ginny did not sound pleased at this. Hermione looked excited, though, and Ron couldn’t resist commenting.

“Want to look good for Vicky, do you?” he asked Hermione.

“Oh, Ron! You just don’t understand the fun in weddings. Girls don’t always have to look good to please men, you know! Sometimes we do it for ourselves!”

“Ha! A likely story.”

“Oh, you are impossible!”

And with this, Hermione stormed from the room grumbling a “good night” to Harry and slamming the door behind her. Ron turned over in his bed so that his back was to Harry and Ginny, and mumbled to himself, throwing the covers over his body and pretending to go to sleep.

“Well, I guess I’d better go fix what I can,” Ginny said, glaring at Ron, “You know, Ron, you can be such a prat sometimes. You ever think that maybe it’s not Krum she wants to look good for?”

Ron continued his charade of being asleep, and Ginny sighed, shrugging, “There’s no hope. They can only fix themselves. We can’t do a thing. It’s just that they’re both so hard-headed and stubborn. Well, goodnight Harry.”

And she gave a small wave and left just as Hermione had. It had been a most insightful meeting, and Harry was more eager than ever to get to Godric’s Hollow, sure that there would be something to help him defeat Voldemort there. He fell asleep to the sound of Ron’s too-loud-to-be-really-asleep snoring, dreaming of Ginny, Godric’s Hollow, and horrible, red eyes.


A/N: I know. It was short, but necessary. I would like more than anything to just be writing the romance parts of this, but it’s hardly believable that Harry and the gang wouldn’t want to discuss more important things. Although I personally think the romance is the most important thing. But, please review, and the next chapter will be full of fun, mushy stuff. And probably some more fighting. You know how Ron and Hermione are.
Chapter 9 by DayDreamingMuggle
Author's Notes:
Ok...I am the worst author in the world to keep you guys waiting so incredibly long. I don't even know if people are still reading. But, my computer crashed, and everything was gone, so I literally had to recover information and rtype it all from different sources. Sorry, once more, and please enjoy!
The following day passed fairly uneventfully for Harry and Ron. The small, wedding countdown on the kitchen wall read two whole days left until the wedding. The wedding fell on the third day, Saturday. Today was Thursday. Harry didn’t know if he could take two more days like the one he had had yesterday. Thankfully, however, the girls were gone most of the day in the village, and that left Harry and Ron able to play quidditch in the orchard until Mrs. Weasley shooed them inside saying,

“We need the orchard clear, boys. This is where the wedding’s going to be set up tomorrow and you lot need to stay out, lest you cause any problems.”

“Mum, what trouble could we possibly cause flying our brooms?” Ron asked, dumbstruck.

Mrs. Weasley glowered at hem, her hands on her hips, and even Harry felt that the repercussions of arguing with Mrs. Weasley could be fatal. So he and Ron slouched inside, at a loss for what do now. They spotted Bill sitting at the kitchen table his head bent over thick stack of parchment with a quill in his hand.

Harry looked from Bill to Ron, asking silently if they should bother him. Ron shrugged and walked over to Bill, dropping into the seat next to him and peering over Bill’s shoulder.

“What’s that?” Ron inquired intrusively.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Ron, but it’s stuff for the wedding.”

“I didn’t know there was so much involved in a wedding,” said Harry.

Bill smiled wryly,

“I didn’t either, but now I know.”

“What is it you have to do?” Harry was very curious about what went on in a wizarding wedding. He knew about Muggle weddings, but how did magic ceremonies take place?

“Well, it’s not nearly as expensive to have a magic wedding as a Muggle wedding. It’s the little things like, we can conjure chairs and an awning to stand under. We only have to pay for the clothes and the ministry official from the Department of Marriages and Separations. Though with Fleur, these clothes are going to cost a fortune. I love Hermione, but did she have to put the idea in Fleur’s head to have Muggle clothes? Now I have to pay a fee to Madame Dubois because she’d already started on the dress robes.’

Bill turned back to the papers, and Ron gave Harry a questioning look,

“But then, what are all of these papers for?”

“Oh, these are the invitations that were supposed to be sent out yesterday. Apparently Fleur couldn’t be bothered making a final list, so I didn’t know who to send invitations to on her side. I really love Fleur, and I knew when we started this whole thing that she was not going to want to join in on the practical side of things.”

“So,” Ron began in a tone of over-casualness, “those are the invitations from the list? So, Viktor Krum’s invitation is in there, is it?”

Harry saw exactly what Ron was thinking, and vowed to keep an eye out to make sure no invitations mysteriously disappeared. He was saved the trouble though when Bill replied,

“All I can say is that Hermione made up for mentioning Muggle clothes. She’s been helping me handle the invitation lists, and she even sent some out herself before they left this morning. She sent Krum’s invitation with that load, I believe,” Bill sighed, and turned his rough, scarred face to Ron,

“She’s an angel, Ron. Hold onto her. And don’t give me that look,” he said as Ron scowled and began to protest, “I don’t care what kind of denial you’ve talked yourself into. Just know that you’re lucky to have her.”

Harry laughed as Ron continued to frown. Ron became even angrier and he nearly shouted,

“She doesn’t want me. She wants-”

But Harry had suddenly become serious and he cut Ron off.

“If the name Viktor Krum finds its way out of your very loud mouth one more time, Ron, I swear I will curse your lips together.”

Ron closed his mouth, sitting in his chair looking sullen. Bill laughed wholeheartedly.

“Thanks, Harry; I needed that bit of entertainment. Now, could you two please leave me alone? I have to send out these invitations, or they’re never going to make it to these people by tonight.”

The two boys got up to leave when a sudden question popped up in Harry’s head,

“Bill, there’s no way Errol’s going to be able to deliver all of those by tonight.”

“Oh, no we’ve taken out an order for twenty –five speed owls. We’re renting them from the mail office. They’re light and speedy; they can get a letter anywhere faster than any of our owls. They’re up in Percy’s room, probably making a mess of things.”

Having answered Harry’s question, Bill turned back to the invitations, and Ron and Harry decided to play a game of wizard chess. Ron didn’t mention Harry’s threat to curse him, so Harry didn’t point out that he thought Bill was completely right about Ron and Hermione. They acted as though it hadn’t happened, and the day proceeded pleasantly. Harry and Ron were playing a nice game of Exploding Snap in Ron’s room when they heard George enter the house. It was odd that he was here without Fred, and Ron’s confused expression was mirrored on Harry’s face. George did not come up the stairs; they heard him shouting for Mrs. Weasley, who shouted back that she was in the yard. Harry and Ron went back to their game, assuming that they would find out what this was about later.

Half and hour later, they heard George slam the front door, and they knew that whatever he had come to see his mother about had not gone well. This was proven when Mrs. Weasley brought up the boys’ clean laundry. She was mumbling,

“Can’t expect so much
only been six months
how can he possibly know
couldn’t have agreed.”

Ron looked as concerned for his mother’s health as Harry felt.

“Mum,” Ron said tentatively, “Are you alright?”

Mrs. Weasley seemed to come out of the trance she had been in, and smiled half-heartedly at her son. She was still absentmindedly folding socks as she answered Ron,

“Oh, yes, dear, I’m fine.”

“‘Cause, I don’t know if you realize, but you were talking to yourself a minute ago, and I was wondering if it had something to with George-”

Mrs. Weasley darkened considerably and said,

“Ronald Bilius Weasley! Are you listening in one other people’s conversations? There are reasons that people want to have PRIVATE discussions! What your brother and I discussed is none of your business!”

Harry flinched, feeling sorry for Ron, he had to use some serious restraint not to laugh at the fact that Mrs. Weasley had just revealed Ron’s middle name. Bilius! Poor Ron. Harry thought to himself that this information could be useful later. Oh, and there would be mocking! Harry focused on Ron and Mrs. Weasley as these unkind thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind.

“Mum, I wasn’t listening. Harry and I were up here the whole time George was here, I swear!”

Mrs. Weasley looked suddenly very sad, as if she was about to cry. Harry was sick of women crying, but thought that Mrs. Weasley was probably legitimately upset about something right now.

“I’m sorry Ron, Harry. I didn’t mean to accuse you. I don’t ever want to stop you boys from doing something that’s very important to you. I just want what’s best for you, and when I don’t think you’re ready to take such huge steps, I would think you’d value my opinion.”

Ron and Harry both looked horrified. Had she found out about the plan to go to Godric’s Hollow? How could she have done? No one could have told her. But Mrs. Weasley did not elaborate on whatever she was talking about. Instead she put her hands on Harry’s and Ron’s shoulders and said,

“Just know that I love you, and I want what’s best for all my children.”

And she left the room.

“What was that about?” Harry wondered aloud.

“No idea. I think she’s off her rocker a bit,” said Ron, standing up from where they had been sitting on the floor, and walked over to where Mrs. Weasley had been folding socks.

“You don’t suppose she knows? About Godric’s Hollow, I mean.” Harry said.

“No, how can she? Oh, bloody hell!”

“What is it?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Mum didn’t finish folding our socks. Now we have to do it ourselves.”

Harry chuckled, reassured that Mrs. Weasley didn’t know anything she shouldn’t, and highly entertained by Ron’s obvious distress at the thought of having to fold his own socks.


The girls returned later that evening and they traipsed up to Ron’s room almost the moment they walked into the house. Hermione looked as though she had decided to just act as if Ron didn’t exist. This enabled her to be a part of the group, but meant that she did not have to forgive Ron.

The girls rushed into the room, and Hermione sat on Harry’s bed, Ginny on Ron’s as the boys were on the floor and had left their beds vacated.

“We have news! Fun news, big news, entertaining news!” Ginny blurted out, clearly relishing the telling of this tale.

“Does it have something to do with George?” Ron asked.

Ginny glared at him,

“How did you know?”

“He was by here today and by the sound of things, he and Mum had a row.”

“That’s all you know?” Ginny had perked up considerably; her story was still good!

“Yeah, that’s all we know,” Harry said, “Whatever it was, though, it had your mum up here talking about how she thought she knew what was right for her children, that she thought her opinion mattered to us if she believed we were making bad decisions, or something like that.”

“That would fit into this,” Hermione spoke for the first time, keeping eye contact only with Harry and Ginny, “Oh, but I bet you thought she had found out about Godric’s Hollow, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” Harry was shocked at her perceptiveness.

“Well, that’s what I would have thought too, if I didn’t know what really happened.”

“Can I please tell this story now?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Oh, sorry, go ahead,” Hermione said.

“Right, so, we had just finished fitting for our dresses. Fleur had to put a charm on the sewing machine at the store so that to the dresses would be finished today, but that’s beside the point. Who should we see out the window, storming down the street, but George! Hermione and I were done; we were just waiting on Fleur, so we walked outside to see what he was doing there.

“We had to call him three times before he heard us, and when he turned round, he looked so angry! I asked him what was wrong and he was so mad, he spilled the whole story. Apparently, he’s decided to ask Brooke to marry him!”

“What?” Harry said, shocked.

“George? Married? Like, being responsible for someone other than himself? Or being responsible period!” Ron was flabbergasted by the concept.

“I know. Weird to think about isn’t it?” Ginny said, “But that’s not the best part. He came here to tell Mum that he wouldn’t be round for dinner. When she asked why, he told her it was because he was inviting Brooke to his place for dinner to propose and spill the news that he’s a wizard.”

“His place?” Harry asked, thinking hard, “but wouldn’t that mean she’d have to go through Diagon Alley?”

“That’s part of the problem. It wouldn’t exactly be breaking it to her gently, would it? You see, when a wizard tells a Muggle that he’s a wizard, he obviously runs the risk of that Muggle being completely horrified and wanting nothing more to do with them. If this is the case, then that wizard has to perform a Memory Charm, erasing himself completely from that person’s memory.”

“That’s legal?” Harry asked. Hermione answered him,

“Yes, it’s under the Statute Number 32 of the Muggle-Magical Marriages Law. If Brooke were to react badly, George would have to completely erase himself from her memory.”

“Naturally, Mum didn’t think he was ready to take such a huge step or risk. George wanted her to come to the wedding as well. Mum told him no, she couldn’t agree to let her come to wedding, and that she thought he should wait awhile to be completely sure of what he was doing.”

“But, I mean, your mum has nothing against Muggles, right?” Harry inquired.

“No, Harry, of course Mrs. Weasley doesn’t care who her son falls in love with!” Hermione snapped, “She’s just worried about how torn up he’d be if Brooke said no.”

“Right, but George says he’s going to do it anyway.”

There was silence as they all pondered what could happen. They wouldn’t know for sure until tomorrow.

“I hope she says yes,” Ginny said, “I liked her. And Dad would love to have a Muggle in the family.

“Anyway, Fleur’s family’s due in any minute, and in addition to regaling you with this highly entertaining bit of information, we’re also supposed to tell you to clean u p this room, get your stuff, and take it out to the tents. Dad got home at the same time we did, and he’s put them up in the yard.”

“Ok, we’ll meet you two outside, then,” Harry said.

Hermione got up slowly fro Harry’s bed and followed Ginny through the door, looking back at Harry and, for the first time since their fight, she made eye contact with Ron. She looked absolutely cheerless, and then she broke the contact and walked out of Ron’s room.

Ron watched Hermione walk from the room, and for a minute, Harry thought he was about to apologize, but then the door closed behind her, and the moment was lost. Harry wondered, for about the hundredth time how this was ever going to be resolved, and he gathered what he would need to spend three nights in the tent. Fleur’s parents were staying over the night of the wedding as well, seeing as the reception wouldn’t be over till late, so they would be spending that night in the tents as well.

Ron waved his wand at the mess in his room, and it sounded as though something exploded. Whatever spell Ron had cast, it seemed to have backfired. The room looked as though it had thrown up. Harry sighed. He couldn’t legally do magic yet, so he walked towards the door.

“Where’re you going?” Ron asked.

“To get Hermione. She’ll have this cleaned up in no time.”

“No! I can do it! I don’t need her.”

Harry spent the next ten minutes watching Ron slowly turn his room into a war-zone until finally, Ron admitted that he probably couldn’t clean it by magic, but that he wouldn’t ask for Hermione’s help. So he and Harry spent half and hour cleaning it without magic until Harry stood, sweating, in the doorway, his stuff in his arms.

“That would have taken thirty seconds with Hermione’s help.”

“We didn’t need her help!” Ron assured him.

“Well, next time, I’m asking for it, regardless of whether your pride will suffer or not. Your rowing is not going to equal manual labor for me, got it, Ronald Bilus?”

And he waked down the stairs leaving Ron gaping behind him like a goldfish out of water.

Fleur’s family had arrived, and he had to stop and make pleasant chit-chat with Mr. and Mrs. Delacour before he could escape out back to the tents. It was going to be a long night, and he did not fancy the idea of returning to the house in a little while for dinner.

A/N: I know I’m creeping so slowly towards the wedding. I’m starting to think I left myself too many days. I keep coming up with ideas. Now I’ve stretched my wonderfully flexible romance ring out to include George. I just thought he deserved a little love, seeing as he so seldomly gets any romance. So, please review, and I swear the next chapter will get us to the wedding day! I’m not saying we’ll actually have the wedding, but there will be Krum in the next chapter, and he will cause trouble. Just giving you something to look forward to. Please, please review! And yes, Ron’s real middle name is Bilius. Feel sorry for Ron.
Chapter 10 by DayDreamingMuggle
Author's Notes:
We finally get to the wedding day!! Hope you enjoy!
The day before the wedding was filled with women running frantically from one end of the house to the other. Harry and Ron attempted to help by degnoming the gardens, but the gnomes kept wandering to the orchard, curious about the festivities that were obviously going to take place soon. This was not Harry’s or Ron’s fault, but in her stressed condition, Mrs. Weasley scolded them both for being careless and sent them out to their tent where they would not be in the way. So Harry and Ron spent a relatively carefree day in their tent.

Harry was extraordinarily grateful for the charms Mrs. Weasley had put on the tent, preventing girls from entering. This was not because he did not want Hermione and Ginny in their tent; it was Gabrielle he wanted to avoid. The dinner the night before had been fairly dull. Mr. and Mrs. Delacour spent the meal speaking in French to Fleur, presumably discussing wedding details. This made the Weasley family feel rather superfluous. They could add nothing to the discussion, and just sat listening as though they could understand the Delacours. Hermione informed Harry later, as they walked to bed, that she had been thrilled at the chance to try and brush up on the French she had learned on holiday years before. Unfortunately for Harry, Gabrielle did not want to join in on her family’s conversation.

Gabrielle was, indeed, only eleven years old, but Harry would have to be deaf, blind, and stupid not to notice that she was beautiful. She had every chance of growing up to be even more attractive than Fleur. Her beauty did not endear her to Harry, however, so she tried to make conversation with him whenever possible. Ron was still angry about Harry’s making fun of his name, and would not help Harry out when Gabrielle asked Harry for a third time to explain the rules of Quidditch. He knew it was time for bed when the plates were empty, everyone was looking very tired, and Gabrielle asked him to list every one of the seven hundred possible fouls in Quidditch.

The spell on the tent meant that this was one place Harry could go without having Gabrielle follow him. He was really quite sick of her. Ron had finally put down his prickly shield of indifference when it came to Gabrielle chasing Harry, and, though he found the crush to be a source of great hilarity, he helped Harry avoid Gabrielle whenever possible.

The two boys did not even see Ginny and Hermione all day except perhaps to watch them walking very quickly to a pre-determined destination with a very important task to complete. Harry and Ron passed the day playing games and avoiding the topic of dates for the wedding. It had been brought to their attention that they should have dates. Fred was bringing Angelina, and, thankfully, Brooke had accepted George’s proposal with enthusiasm. According to Fred, who had come round after dinner to greet Charlie (who was so tired from work that he only said a brief hello, then was straight off to bed), Brooke had always thought that George had some sort of ability that he wasn’t sharing with her. She said she loved him, and she would love to come to the wedding to meet his family. Charlie’s date was one of Fleur’s cousins. He had never met her, but Fleur had assured him that her cousin was very fond of adventurers, and being a dragon tamer definitely qualified. Harry and Ron didn’t want dates. Or rather, the dates they wanted were
unavailable. Though Harry thought Ron was daft not to ask Hermione. He had to walk with her down the aisle anyway. He was a groomsman and Hermione was a bridesmaid. Ginny was walking down on Charlie’s arm. Fred and George had declined invitations to be groomsmen as they didn’t want to leave Brooke and Angelina sitting with other people. Harry was going to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the family of the groom’s row. Harry didn’t bring up the fact that he thought Ron was dense not to ask Hermione. He was planning on tackling that issue tomorrow. If he did it now, Ron would have too much time to think about it.

They went to sleep directly after a small supper- the women were still setting up late into the night and didn’t have time to sit down for a large dinner. Tomorrow’s gigantic meal had taken first priority in the kitchen, and Harry and Ron just had sandwiches Mrs. Weasley half-heartedly conjured for them before returning to the sink to prepare potatoes for the next day. So, the boys went to bed, and both of them lay awake late that night until they heard Hermione and Ginny enter their tent next door. Only when both boys were assured that the girls were safely asleep did they, themselves, drift off as well.

The morning of the wedding dawned cloudy, and Harry’s immediate thought upon his arrival out of doors was that, if it rained, everything would be ruined. The girls were already up, and as Harry and Ron made their way into the kitchen, it became evident that Fleur was thinking along the same lines as Harry.

“Eef eet rains, eet will all be ruined!”

“Now, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, “It’s just a bit of cloud cover. It’ll clear up, you mark my words.”

She smiled so reassuringly that Harry actually believed that Mrs. Weasley might just be able to control the weather. Fleur seemed to be comforted, or at least she had other worries that took precedence over the possible rain. Hermione, Ginny, Fleur, Mrs. Delacour, and Gabrielle all sat with Fleur, fussing over her and offering her consoling words. Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged as if to say,

“I don’t get it either, mate.”

They both helped themselves to toast from a plate in the middle of the table, and tuned out the mixture of low voices all speaking at once from the woman’s corner. As Harry and Ron finished their breakfast, Mrs. Weasley glanced out the window behind the boys she checked her watch and jumped up, exclaiming,

“Oh, no! The guests are arriving and I’d completely forgotten them. Here comes quite a few. Now, off with you Fleur. Up to Ginny’s room, or the bridal suite, should I call it? You know you’re supposed to be up there getting ready.”

Harry was shocked; it was only ten o’clock in the morning and the wedding wasn‘t until four.

“Why are guests arriving now?” Harry asked to the room in general.

The women seemed too busy hustling Fleur from the room to answer so Charlie, who had just walked in, replied,

“Well, Harry, in wizarding weddings, the guests traditionally pitch in to help on the day of the wedding. That way things go a bit more smoothly, and everyone feels more a part of the event.”

“Oh,” said Harry, deep in thought. Charlie sat down and helped himself to toast. “So why does Fleur need all this time to get ready? Is that a tradition as well?”

“In the world of women, yes, it is most definitely traditional for them to take six hours to ready themselves. But I have it straight from George that that’s all women, not just witches,” Charlie laughed.

“Blimey! How can it possibly take them that long?” Ron’s eyes were wide with amazement.

“Because, Ron, women like to take time with their appearances. They, unlike you, care what people think of the way they look,” Ginny called as she passed through the kitchen on her way outside, “Oh and Mum wants you two to shuck the corn, there in the sink.”

“Can I use magic, then?” said Ron, looking excited.

Ginny sneered,

“If you can manage it. I’m off to greet the guests coming in. There’re some now.”

Ron and Harry got up and walked towards the sink.

“So, I’ll just sit and watch, shall I?” Harry inquired, “You’ve got your bases covered here.”

Ron nodded uncertainly and pointed his wand at the tower of corn in the sink. He levitated an ear and whispered,

“Skincornsa.”

The corn shot out of its husk with tremendous speed and power. Charlie had to duck as it whizzed past his head and hit the wall behind him. He emerged from under the table laughing and clutching a stitch in his side.

“Shut up,” Ron muttered as Harry tried very loyally not to join in Charlie’s laughter, “I’ll get these next ones.”

But Ron did not manage to shuck the corn and after twelve ears littered the kitchen floor, Charlie offered a bit of advice on his way out to the orchard,

“I’d do it by hand, Ron, or Mum’s going to throw a fit when she sees how much corn you’ve wasted.”

“Can’t you just do it? It’d be done in a flash,” Ron grumbled.

Charlie smiled and replied,

“Oh, no Ron. Why would I deny you two boys the right to shuck all that corn? Besides, it’ll keep you both out of the way for a while.” And he strolled out into the yard, stopping briefly to help Ginny direct the guests, which were slowly growing in number.

Ten minutes and seven ears of corn later, Hermione came down the stairs, looking flushed.

“Where’s Ginny? Mrs. Weasley wants me to help her with the guests. We’ve seen them from the window, and more and more are arriving.” Hermione directed her question at Harry; she was still not speaking to Ron.

“Out in the yard. They all seem to be Apparating at the same point.”

“Well, people should be arriving by Floo Powder soon. I believe they’ll pop in here, so I’ve just got to grab a copy of the guest list from Ginny, then I’m stationed here.”

She walked out the door, and Harry saw Ron watch her walk away. He decided not to bring up Hermione until she took off to get dressed. Harry was sure that would be soon as it was coming up on eleven, and they would need at least four hours to ready themselves. Or at least, in their minds, they needed four. Just then a guest popped out of the fire. It was a man of twenty one or two. He looked vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn’t place him. Ron did not notice anything familiar about the man because he turned back to the sink after a brief glance at him.

Harry saw that Ron was going to be of no help, and he saw Hermione starting back to the house from where she had left Ginny. She would take a minute or two to walk back, though, and Harry knew they couldn’t just leave the man standing there.

“Umm
hi. I’m Harry Potter. Hermione, that’s the girl coming up the way, just there, she’ll tell you where to go when she gets here.”

The man glanced at Harry’s scar and his mouth settled in a thin line. Harry thought that he looked rather hostile. The man brushed blond hair out of his grey eyes and offered Harry a hand,

“I’m William Smythe.”

This got Ron’s attention.

“Your William Smythe?” he blurted out.

“Yes,” said William, looking rather annoyed, as if he did not like to repeat himself.

Just then, Hermione walked through the door, and ran to greet Smythe.

“I’m so sorry. I had to deal with something outside. Can I have your name, please?” Hermione chattered pleasantly.

“This is William Smythe, Hermione. Surely you remember him. You’re great friends aren’t you?” Ron said triumphantly.

Hermione glared at Ron and Smythe looked at Hermione with what Harry could have sworn was disdain. Ron noticed the look too because he frowned at Smythe.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met, Miss
”

“Granger,” Hermione filled in, “Don’t mind him Mr. Smythe, he’s recently suffered a traumatic blow to the head. No cure. Healers say nothing’s wrong, but we’re trying to get a second opinion.”

Ron was outraged. Harry saw him open his mouth angrily to retort, but at that moment, another witch and wizard popped into the fire, one after the other. After that Hermione was too busy even to notice if Ron had tried to continue the verbal sparring match.

Forty-five minutes later, all the corn was shucked, and Hermione was still sitting with her list, helping guests as they arrived. There were so many people mulling about the house that Harry was beginning to feel claustrophobic. People pressed in on him on all sides, all proclaiming that they believed in him. He was told by countless strangers that “You-Know-Who doesn’t realize he’s met his match in you, Harry Potter”. Harry was really quite sick of it, and he nodded towards the door, indicating to Ron that he wished to leave. They headed back to the tents, but Harry saw that there were almost more people there than there were in the house.

Harry spotted Lupin and Tonks, conjuring decorations and looking much healthier than Harry had last seen them. Harry gave a small wave, but they were both busy and could not respond. He would have plenty of time to speak with Lupin later. He and Ron went into the tent, and Harry felt the people clamoring to get in and speak with Harry. Harry had something he needed to say to Ron before he lost the nerve, but he had to do it, or the suffering he had been enduring the last few days would certainly become unbearable.

“Look, Ron, about Hermione. No!” he said forcefully as Ron began to cut him off, “Hear me out, okay? Listen, she loves you mate. Quite frankly, I can’t stand this throng of people outside long enough to give you a long, hard concrete list of evidence, but I am going to tell you to look past your feelings about Krum. That was so long ago, and after Lavender, I’d call you two more than even. This opportunity isn’t going to present itself again. The wedding is the perfect excuse to ask her to be your date. You don’t have to proclaim your love on the spot, but just asking her to go with you tonight would get the ball rolling, wouldn’t it? Now, I have to find something in my trunk. Think on what I said until I get back.”

Harry left Ron, sitting at the tiny table in their little kitchen of the tent. Ron hadn’t objected right out, and that was a good sign, Harry thought to himself as he rummaged in his trunk. His fingers touched the soft, almost fluid fabric he was searching for and he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. He returned to find Ron with a determined look on his face.

“Look, Ron, I can’t stand this crowd any longer, so while you’re considering this, could you go out there and clear me a path just to get out of the tent. I need a bit of peace if I’m going to keep my sanity in tact.”

Ron nodded, clearly thinking hard enough that he didn’t give the fact that hundreds of people were waiting outside to get a chance to speak to Harry a second thought. Ron pulled open the flap of the tent and walked out before Harry, who had disappeared under the cloak. Harry followed in his wake, and Ron turned round and went back to the tent. Surely that would look suspicious, but Harry didn’t care. He couldn’t breathe. Harry recognized no one in the crowd of people looking very disappointed that it was Ron who had emerged and not Harry. Upon closer scrutinization, however, he saw Smythe among the crowd, not appearing eager and excited as the others, but simply observational. Harry didn’t have time to think on this, however, because the crowd was slowly drawing itself back together and if he did not walk away. He would surely be caught up in it.

Thankfully, the door to the kitchen was open, and he passed unnoticed through the chattering crowds. Hermione was still sitting by the fireplace, checking guests off her list. Ginny walked right by Harry, and Harry barely moved in time; she’d almost touched his arm. Ginny whispered something into Hermione’s ear, and Hermione nodded. Harry could read her lips as she told Ginny that she’d wait for one more guest before she turned it over to someone else nearby to go get ready.

Harry passed by the fireplace just in time to see Krum emerge from the flames. Hermione seemed genuinely glad to see him, and they embraced. Harry wished very hard that Ron would not come in right now. He glanced towards the open door, but was happy to find that Ron was not standing there. He only hoped Hermione would go upstairs before Ron came in.

He heard Krum’s low voice say,

“Hermy-own-ninny, I haf missed you.”

“Oh, um, well-” Hermione stuttered. Harry knew that, though they corresponded regularly, Hermione hadn’t really missed Krum.

“Vould you come vith me for a moment. I vant to talk vith you.”

“Oh, no, I can’t I have to go and, um, get dressed.”

Satisfied, Harry walked away without hearing Krum’s reply. A very large witch with a flaming red hair, a relative on the Weasley side, no doubt, was coming his way, and if he didn’t walk forward, he knew she would run over him. Harry hurried into the drawing room, which was thankfully empty and sank into a chair next to the sofa, facing away form the door. He kept the cloak on in case anyone walked in, but he finally felt as though he could breathe. No sooner than he had relaxed, however, did the door open. Viktor came through the door, an obviously reluctant Hermione in his wake. Krum waited for her to walk further into the room, then firmly shut the door behind her. Harry knew he would never be able to move silently enough to leave the room unnoticed. Hermione would know it was him under the cloak, and he didn’t want her to think he was spying. He also didn’t really want Krum to know he had an Invisilbility Cloak.

“Please don’t let him sit on me, please,” thought Harry, and his request was granted as Krum led Hermione over to the sofa next to the chair.

“Viktor, this has to be a quick talk. Whatever it’s about. I’m supposed to be upstairs getting ready.”

“Then I vill be brief,” said Viktor solemnly, his eyebrows drawn together in the characteristic Krum scowl, “I still haf very strong feelings for you Hermy-own-ninny.”

“Viktor, you’re very nice,” said Hermione tentatively, “and I’m very flattered, but I just don’t feel that way about you.”

“Please reconsider,” Krum said, and Harry thought he heard a small creaking noise behind him. He did not turn to look, however. Watching this was like watching a train wreck. He had to keep his eyes on it, and at exactly the same time, he didn’t want to hear a word of it.

“Hermy-own-ninny, I told you years ago that I had never felt the same way about another girl. I never have since then. I can’t stop thinking of you, Hermy-own-ninny. I think I am in love vith you.”
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