~*~

Ginny glided through the double doors of the entrance hall, gently allowing them to shut behind her; despite her ginger touch, however, the slam echoed throughout the castle. This clamor was a vague yet familiar noise to her, memories of her very own Hogwarts days seeping back into her mind. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. It was this very school in which she had been bewitched to open the Chamber—her very first year—speechless and love-struck when the raven-haired boy had come down to save her. She smiled faintly, touching the stone wall with her palm. The limestone seemed so cold, yet it was a comforting sensation nonetheless.

Aside from this chill, the castle was considerably warmer than the outdoors had been. She undid the top few clasps of her white traveling robes, making her way towards McGonagall's old office, where she could only assume Hermione would be settled.

As she walked, she couldn't help but be distracted by various paintings along the deserted corridor walls. The halls were utterly silent aside from the persistent yowling of Mrs. Norris somewhere nearby. Class was in session at the moment, she deduced. Settling on the idea of having a look around, so as not to disturb Hermione in the middle of a lesson, she privileged herself. The castle hadn't appeared to change at all in the two years since her graduation. Some of the paintings had swapped positions, no doubt due to Peeves's playful and mischievous nature. Several things constantly had to be relocated because of Peeves's carelessness.

Nostalgia was succeeding in creeping up on her. Truthfully, on some occasions, the young red-headed woman caught herself wistfully wishing her Hogwarts days had not flown so quickly—at times she missed Hogwarts dearly. In all honesty, she sometimes found herself wishing that her most notable concerns were attributed to homework assignments once more, naïve and oblivious to the complications that would eventually arise upon reaching adulthood. It was not as though life had been particularly challenging since her departure from school, but she was well aware of the minor pains of life that as children, one fails to notice. Childhood naivety is perhaps more of a gift than a curse—what she would not give to pretend certain ugly things were not happening in the world today.

Her climaxing internal struggle was abruptly halted. Her eye caught, she found herself stopped at a painting she had never noticed before. It was a detailed portrait of a tall man, brown-eyed with unruly black locks. Beside him, wrapped in his right arm was a woman with red hair and eyes of emerald. In her arms she nursed a newborn. It took a couple moments and a few deep, reminiscently asthmatic breaths to slow her heart-rate, having initially thought the picture to don herself and her husband-to-be. It took only moments to register, but it occurred to her—The picture was of Lily and James Potter.

She was astounded at the remarkable likenesses. As she inspected the piece further, however, she found herself noticing several distinct differences, calming the frantic muscle pounding in her left breast.

The youngest Weasley found herself morbidly curious as to why she had never spotted this painting any time before. It could be assumed that it had once hung in a restricted section of the castle. Perhaps the third floor corridor. Yes, that seemed logical. But why would Dumbledore wish to keep such a beautiful tribute so very hidden?

She studied the work of art with unmitigated sadness as the people in the picture moved slightly, the couple beaming at one another and their infant. Almost feeling the tears building in her eyes, she raised her fingers to gingerly wipe the brow of a baby Harry.

“Excuse me, may I help you?�

Ginny jumped in surprise, startled from her reverie, and turned around abruptly. She gave a sigh of relief when she gazed at her onlooker. She took in his features to register his identity, taking all of what seemed like five minutes but was really only an instant. The graying brown hair and the medium build, the tattered robes, and the boyish smile gave him away. He had been, admittedly, the best Defense Against The Dark Arts instructor to ever teach at Hogwarts. Sure, Mad-Eye would have been an admirable professor, had he not secretly been a former Azkaban prisoner, content on allowing his mother to die in his stead as long as he could perform the Dark Lord’s bidding once more.

“Professor Lupin,� she breathed, feeling her heart-rate return to normal once again. “You certainly startled me.�

“To avoid fright, maybe one should not roam the castle alone,� Remus offered. “After all, you should know from your seven years here that these walls are filled with surprises galore.�

She recalled that this middle-aged man had not always been as carefree as depicted at this very moment. It wasn't until the numerous charges against his best friend were dropped, testified for by Remus himself, Albus Dumbledore, and Ginny’s father, Arthur Weasley. Remus had offered eye-witness testimony to Wormtail’s return and confession, supported by Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Dumbledore vouched for Sirius’s character and Arthur, through his position at the Ministry, had recruited several more witnesses who had spotted Wormtail around the continent.

Ever since Sirius had become a free man, Remus’ smile always seemed more genuine, knowing that at least one of his friends was still by his side, and would remain loyal until he died. The two now shared a small house in the Hogsmeade village, where they were free and open to reminisce as they pleased. Despite the fact that Sirius had always been closer to James, there was now a new-found bond between himself and Lupin that reigned supreme from their friendship in their school days.

“Have you heard yet?� Ginny asked, nearly forgetting to spread her own good cheer. Remus nodded in reply, his smile broadening if at all possible.

“Harry owled Sirius and me earlier this morning. Bless his heart. I thought Sirius was going to bust with joy. He read the letter and the bulb above the table burst. Been a long time since his emotions have been so powerful as to manipulate his magical abilities. Said something about seeing his best friend's son growing up and becoming a man, that sort of mushy pish posh.� His countenance betrayed his ridiculing words, however, as Ginny saw that he was positively beaming.

“You'll be sure to be there, right?� Ginny questioned hastily. He nodded.

“We wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, dare I ask, what the future Mrs. Potter is doing roaming Hogwarts this time of year?�

Ginny had nearly forgotten her objective, and shook her head, as if to regain her composure and train of thought. “Oh, right. I was looking for Hermione. Need to have a bit of a chat with her about this wedding.�

“Ah. Ron?� Lupin inquired. Ginny nodded, her face brimming with exasperation. “Yes, she has a class in session right now, but I’d be happy to escort you.�

With that, he began to lead her in the opposite direction. Amidst their small talk, Ginny still managed to steal glances at the pictures on either side of them that she’d never noticed before. Finally, as they were rounding the corner and heading up the familiar staircase, she recognized her way and knew that the transfiguration classroom was nearby.

“There you are,� Lupin finished, presenting the door to her. She smiled.

“Thank you, Profess—�

“You may call me Remus, Ginny,� Lupin offered, his expression still soft with joy. “I am no longer your teacher, and you are no longer a student.�

She hesitated, unfamiliar with addressing him in this nature, but smiled. “Remus. It was a pleasure seeing you again. I look forward to seeing you at the wedding.�

“We’ll be there, front row, with handkerchiefs. And I’m sure at least one of us will be weeping like a bloody prat,� Remus replied with a wink and a chortle. And then, they went their separate ways.

Ginny smiled softly to herself as she watched her former professor retreat. How pleasing it had been to see a twinkle in Remus’s eyes, after so long of being forlorn. It seemed hard to imagine how he had felt for such a long time—to his knowledge, three of his four best friends were dead, and the last imprisoned for partial responsibility in the deaths. She could never fathom being in the same position—what if Ron, Harry, and Hermione were suddenly gone, all in less than a fortnight? She would be beside herself with survivor’s guilt. Yes. Remus was certainly a strong man.

She exhaled slowly, leaving her depressing thoughts where they left off. Deciding to finally focus on what she had came here for, she heard Hermione’s voice from within, speaking, consequently, about Animagi. Ginny suddenly began pondering about what she would say to Hermione—She had to be convincing, of course. She had to conquer Hermione’s qualms and talk her out of this ridiculous business.

She raised a fist and tapped it on the door. Hermione’s voice faltered upon hearing a guest. Swift footsteps were heard and the door opened, revealing a slightly-changed woman. Her bushy hair that had always been her trademark was pulled back into an elegant bun, slightly reminiscent of Professor McGonagall’s. Her maroon robes were worn nicely by her body, which, Ginny noticed easily, had acquired more accentuated and accurate curves, Ginny being a woman herself and recognizing such changes. Her caramel eyes were still ablaze with amazement at the idea of books and studying, and even more so sparkling with the notion of teaching.

Hermione took a moment to recognize Ginny, but once she did, her jaw dropped. Ginny grinned and pulled her friend into a hug.

“Ginny!� Hermione cried excitedly, her attitude more like that of her teenage self than of a grown adult witch teaching Transfiguration. Over her shoulder, Ginny noticed that the students in the class looked puzzled and bewildered, even all-out shocked, at this reaction. Ginny figured it must have been like seeing Professor McGonagall break into song in a serenade of Christmas Carols. Professors just weren’t expected to break out of their stereotypical molds.

Ginny stifled a giggle and gestured to Hermione's class. She turned back to them, remembering their presence. “Oh…Gin, it really isn’t the best time…I’m sort of…� she trailed off pathetically, gesturing to the group of school children behind her.

“I need to talk to you. It’s rather important,� Ginny said softly, her excitement hardly contained. Hermione, seemingly torn between childhood and authority, pursed her lips together tightly and sighed, turning upon her students.

“You’re in for a bit of luck today.� She winced as she said this, as though it pained her a great deal to do it. “You’re dismissed five minutes early. Go to lunch.� There was a brief moment of silence in which the students fought to register their instructor’s words. Then, all of a sudden, they all began to jump up excitedly, fumbling for their belongings—shocked, but anxious to escape before she changed her mind.

Hermione wrung her hands together, seemingly unable to accept her sacrifice of such valuable teaching time. She just couldn’t help herself. “But, don't think this means you’re off the hook. Since class is out early, I want you to give me a three-foot parchment tomorrow on Unregistered Animagi.� The class groaned, their spirits slightly more downcast, as they shuffled out of the room, mumbling things Ginny could vividly recall Ron saying on a daily basis; things that often made Hermione gasp in horror and exclaim, “Ron!� reproachfully.

“So, now that my class is gone,� Hermione began sullenly, disappointed at the empty desks; it was not, however, enough of a distraction from the excitement of seeing an old friend, “what's so important?� She gestured to Ginny, indicating that she follow her into the classroom. The room, Ginny noticed, hadn’t changed a bit. Hermione kept mostly to McGonagall's transfiguration diagrams. There was one noticeably new piece, however: a vivid depiction of a porcupine changing into a pincushion, over and over again as the picture repeated its movements.

Ginny smiled and outstretched her hand, so that the ring was only dangling underneath Hermione’s nose. She didn't catch on at first, glancing at it and smiling fondly. “What a beautiful ring! Is it a Weasley heirloom?� Ginny sighed and began indiscreetly humming the wedding march. “A singing ring?� Hermione asked breathlessly, always amazed at further discoveries of the Wizarding World.

“Golly, Hermione, for such a smart witch, sometimes you can be so daft!� Ginny joked. Hermione puffed up indignantly, opening her mouth for an undoubtedly witty retort, when, freezing in that position, it all seemed to dawn on her at once.

“Hold it…That’s an—that’s an engagement ring!� she gasped. “Don’t tell me…You and Harry?—�

“Yes, the very same,� Ginny said in amusement, enjoying the look of fresh alarm on Hermione’s face. “He just proposed last night. I was going to owl you, but I wanted to tell you in person and ask you to be my Witch of Honor.�

Hermione seemed to positively glow with pride. “Why, of course, I’d love to!�

Ginny let out the deep breath that she had been holding through the entire conversation. This had been loads easier than she thought. She suddenly felt guilty for not giving Hermione enough credit. She was a grown woman, after all—she understood such matters of importance—she was too smart to let an age-old grudge get in the way of her friend’s happiness.

She was such a good friend.

“Great! Now after Harry talks to Ronald, we can all—�

“Wait, hold on,� Hermione cut in, her excitement ebbing away significantly. Ginny paused. Hermione was looking at her as if she had just said a curse. Which, she supposed, she had, in Hermione’s eyes. “You said the ‘R’ word,� Hermione deadpanned.

“‘The ‘R’ word’?� Ginny sputtered indignantly, unable to believe her own ears. “Hermione, how old are we? We’re mature enough to use people’s real names by now, don’t you think?�

But Hermione looked livid.

“No. I haven't spoken to—Him—in three years. And I don’t plan on doing so any time soon. I don’t care how many galleons you pay me to do it.�

“Hermione,� Ginny whined in a pleading tone, following Hermione as she retreated to her office. She was hardly able to keep herself from dropping to her knees, prepared to beg. “C’mon, don’t be a child, this is my wedding. You can’t expect me to have you there and not my brother.�

Hermione began tidying things up, something that helped her distract herself. Her eyes flashed uncertainly; Ginny was certain that the wheels were turning, sifting through each and all of the possible responses and outcomes. She sighed, silent for a mere moment, then turned to look at Ginny. “You’re absolutely right. I can’t ask you not to have him there.�

Ginny let out another sigh of relief. “I always knew you were a smart witch, Hermione. Harry said we’d run into problems, but I knew you’d understand that—�

“Have your brother there. But I can’t come.�

The petite redhead released a noise that sounded somewhere between a groan of frustration and a vicious growl from deep in her chest. “What on Earth are you going on about?� she demanded. “That’s not fair! I want you both there!�

Hermione looked positively guilt-ridden at this point, but seemed determined to stand her ground. She winced visibly as she was bitten by her own candy dish in an attempt to reach over it for a pile of parchment.

“I don’t want to see his ugly, smug, freckle-covered face ever again,� she insisted forcefully, though noticeably regretful to be speaking these words. She had now moved on from tidying to flipping through her Transfiguration lesson plan, which, Ginny noticed, was elaborately color-coded and organized.

“What happened between you two, anyway?� Ginny demanded. “The least you can do is offer me some sort of explanation for why you insist on making this so very difficult for me!�

Hermione sighed, ceasing to flip but keeping her eyes trained upon her desk. “I’m not sure where I would even begin to explain that.�

“How about the beginning?� Ginny offered grumpily. Hermione gazed out the window of her office, watching the Hufflepuff Quidditch training happening on the grounds.

“I suppose then, it all started in seventh year,� Hermione began. “Actually…No, it really started in first year. It was when Ron sacrificed himself in that chess game that I really began to…� An expectant look on Ginny's face caused Hermione to regain herself, clear her throat, and change her sentence. “I began to admire him, as a friend. Anyhow, after that, I suppose we were closer, but I always seemed to be in the way when he and Harry were together. They were best friends. I felt like the tag-along, and—�

“Where is this going, Hermione?� Ginny asked impatiently, eager to know the gist.

Hermione sighed in defeat. She wasn’t used to ever cutting a story short. But she supposed it would be best for her to do so on this occasion. “Then, I guess, it started the night before graduation. McGonagall called me into her office. She told me I’d scored so high on the N.E.W.T.s and on my Transfiguration exam, that she reckoned I was fit to teach the class as she was taking over for Studies Of Ancient Runes the next year. She said I would start my training the following week if I was interested. So I headed down to the Great Hall to tell Harry and—Him my good news…�

“…And then she came down for supper and I jumped up with my letter from Bill. I was gonna ask her to attend the job acceptance banquet the following week with me. But before I could tell her, she jumped in, going on something crazy about teaching Transfiguration. I interrupted her and handed her my letter, and I was about to ask her, when she said, ‘Good job, Ron. I’m proud of you!' and all that sod,� Ron said sulkily, Harry fighting to hide his amusement at Ron’s accurate attempt at Hermione’s high-pitched squeal. “Anyway, then she went on to talk about her training and how�—Ron visibly shuddered at this point—“Krum would be co-teaching with Madam Hooch on flying and Quidditch the next year, and how she was excited about seeing him.

“As you can imagine, it hurt something awful to hear her belittle my accomplishment, and reject to accompany me to an important banquet, and then have the audacity to begin rambling about Viktor Krum to me, as if I were immune to her treatment! Can you believe it?�

“Hardly,� sighed Harry sarcastically. “And that was when you accused her of becoming a ruddy old spinster?� Ron winced but nevertheless stuck up for himself.

“I had the right! She was seventeen and going into the teaching business. A workaholic nut, that one, I tell you. Studies before emotions, as usual. School had always been more important than me. Than you, too,� he added hastily, turning slightly red. “Like life after Hogwarts left no connections with her best friends. Like she used us because we were the only ones stupid enough to befriend her! Ruddy moronic of us. If we had seen through that cover…�

Harry couldn’t help but look at Ron with a strange knot in his stomach. Ron was talking crazy. It was like Snape confessing his love for butterflies and daisies and the Slytherins readily agreeing. It just didn't add up—much less make sense.

“Ron, have you ever asked her about it?� Harry asked, trying to refrain from giving the bloke a few swift kicks to the knees and telling him how stupid he was being in grasping for pathetic excuses.

“No, and I don’t plan on ever speaking to her again. She can go teach Transfiguration and buddy up to Viktor Krum. I don’t care. I don’t care if she ever looks at me again. I hope Malfoy curses her.�

“And I wouldn’t care if he belched slugs for the rest of his life,� Hermione concluded, her breathing heavy and her face set to some mix between anger and grief. She looked as if she had just run a marathon, the way her face had reddened and how near she was to hyperventilating. She looked out the window again, and Ginny noticed this time that Krum was helpful in instructing the Hufflepuffs.

“But then you called him a juvenile headstrong prat,� Ginny quipped.

“Only after he called me a ruddy spinster,� Hermione defended.

Ginny sighed. “So. Did anything happen between you and Krum?�

“Of course not. I only brought him up because I was excited that I would have a friend during my training. I knew I wouldn't have to go on alone, I’d have Viktor to keep me company, at the same pace as me.�

“Why are you two so bloody dense?� Ginny demanded with a sigh, setting down the tea Hermione had summoned for her. “This was some ridiculous, forgivable spat. Okay, that’s settled, now let’s go meet with Ron and Harry and we’ll work out how to—�

“Harry’s with that great git as we speak?� Hermione demanded in disbelief. The expression on her face made it seem that she had been mercilessly betrayed.

“Fine, if that’s how you’re going to be about it…� Ginny trailed off, standing. Hermione sighed.

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to make it if I have to be within a mile of your brother, Gin, I’m sorry…�

“Say his bloody name!� Ginny pleaded impatiently, stomping her foot like a child.

“Not anytime soon,� Hermione resolved, looking out the window distantly, as if to signal that the conversation was at a definite stand-still. Ginny interpreted this as her exit cue.

“Fine,� Ginny sighed. “Owl me when you’ve grown up.� With that, she gathered her white robes and marched out of the office and down the stairs. Uncharacteristically of Ginny, she was fuming. It was rather selfish, she thought, of Hermione and Ron to be so childish with her and Harry’s special day slowly approaching. It wasn’t fair for them to put her in this position. Or Harry.

She wasn’t sure that she had ever been so angry in her entire life. Of all the careless and inconsiderate things her six brothers had done or said to her in nineteen years, nothing had made her feel quite like this.

She privately wondered how Ron was taking things. Surely no better. She had actually expected Hermione to be far more mature about it. Sorely mistaken on her part, apparently.

Poor Harry. It came down to having only one of his dearest friends in the ceremony because they were both too bloody stupid to spend a single day together.

And she hated them both for it.

Ginny consulted her watch, which was much like the clock in The Burrow. Harry’s hand was on “Deep Discussion,� indicating that he and Ron were still together. In the upper corner of the watch, the actual time told her that she had finished her conversation with Hermione an hour earlier than planned. She and Harry would not meet up again until that point.

She sighed. She certainly did not feel like killing time. What she truly wanted to do was go home and down a shot of Firewhiskey, despite what her mother would say. Nevertheless, Ginny made her way back into Hogsmeade.

She perused Honeydukes, Zonko’s, and a local Quidditch store, exiting with large bags of purchases. Ever since she had become a reporter for The Prophet, she'd made more money than she was used to having. It seemed so easy to go through and spend loads of it. Not to mention the fact that her heart always felt a bit lighter after some retail therapy. After carefully selecting presents for Harry and treating herself to some of her own prizes, she then took a load off her feet by settling into Three Broomsticks, greeting Madam Rosmerta warmly and requesting a Butterbeer.

“Oi, Gin!�

She looked up and saw two familiar (not to mention identical) freckled faces with mops of red hair. They hurried over and settled into her booth across from her. “Nice bit of buyings you’ve got there, isn’t it?� Fred inquired. “What could Mum have possibly said this time?�

“Wasn’t her, actually,� Ginny confessed, realizing that this may very well be the first time in ages that somebody else had angered her. “Hermione.�

“Point taken,� Fred confirmed with a sly grin. “Always stubborn, that one. Just like Ronniekins. Good luck with that, Gin.�

“Yeah. Give them another six or seven years to cool off then try again,� George joked.

Ginny smiled in spite of herself. Although the things that Fred and George were saying should have only made the situation worse, their knack of taking things light-heartedly was comforting in a miniscule way.

“Got the owl this morning,� George chimed with a grin. Ginny was admittedly grateful for the change in subject. “Congratulations. Always saw it coming.�

“Did not! It was always me,� Fred insisted. “You always called me ridiculous when I suggested it! Remember? You thought he’d shack up with that Ravenclaw seeker.�

Ginny frowned at this comment.

“Dear Brother, it’s quite sad when even you get us confused. Yes, two Butterbeers,� George added as Madam Rosmerta asked them for their orders. She handed Ginny's to her, which she took willingly. A few sips and the warmth was restored to her body, having been rare in the chilly spring weather outside.

“So, what are you two doing in the middle of Hogsmeade?� Ginny questioned, sipping away and sorting her purchases properly.

“We could ask you the same thing.�

“That’s easy…We already discussed it: I was visiting Hermione at the castle. But she’s being near impossible to talk to.� Ginny sighed. “So, it’s your turn.�

“We were at Zonko’s,� Fred responded, raising a large bag. “Percy’s visiting our new house this weekend. Ministry business. Feels obligated to talk to my wife Angelina about her enchanted lawnmower.�

“And if he goes into Percival overdrive…we have some surefire ways to knock him down a couple pegs,� George added. Fred chuckled in agreement.

“Still can’t behave like grown adults,� Ginny retorted, but nevertheless allowed herself to smile. Fred and George always managed to cheer her up. She finished up her Butterbeer and glanced at her watch, realizing how late it really was. “Oh no, I’ve got to get going.� She stood, gathering her bags. “It was nice seeing you two.�

George and Fred helped her to get her bags together. “What can we say? We know that we are, after all, your favorite brothers,� George teased.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, Gin,� Fred concluded.

And with that, Ginny hurried out of Hogsmeade to a location for Apparition.

Harry glanced at his watch, drumming his fingers on the tabletop impatiently. Ginny was due back at any moment to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron, but so far, was running significantly late.

“I suppose it’s good that I’m taking a holiday,� Ron was saying as he sipped his soup. “I think some time back at The Burrow will get a load off my mind. Tons of work stress, you know.�

“Yeah,� Harry muttered distractedly. Finally, he saw a flash of red hair outside the door, and Ginny hurried in, looking slightly winded, carrying an armful of bags.

“Oi, what’s this? Bought out these stores?� Harry questioned, helping to take a load off her. Ron pitched in. Once the bags were cleared from in front of her face, she spotted her brother. He grinned.

“Hey, Gin. How’s it going?�

In surprise, she dropped her remaining bags and boxes and engulfed him in a hug, temporarily forgetting her sore attitude towards him and Hermione. It had, after all, been ages since she had seen him.

“Heard the good news,� Ron murmured into her identically-red locks. He pulled back to look at her. “Wonderful, really.�

“Yes,� Harry piped in, sending Ginny a warning look that she didn’t quite comprehend. She glanced at Ron. He nodded.

“Yeah, Harry says that Hermione already owled you both, that she can’t make it to the wedding. Pity.� This last word came out dripping with sarcasm.

Ginny nearly stopped breathing from shock. “He what? Hermione what?� She glared at Harry. “Are you barking mad?�

“Ron, please excuse us.� Ron nodded, looking thoroughly confused, but returning to the business of his soup. Harry quickly pulled his future wife over to the side.

“What is the meaning of this, Harry Potter?� Ginny demanded. “Hermione never actually declined! I wasn’t through convincing her. If I can help it, I’m not going to allow her to miss it.�

“I know, I know,� Harry said gently, trying to calm her down. “Let me explain.�

Ginny crossed her arms expectantly. “All right...Ten seconds...Go.�

“I told Ron that Hermione wasn’t coming. I figured that if we tell them both that the other isn’t coming, they'll meet each other at The Burrow for pre-arrangements, become neutral enough to go to the wedding rehearsal, and then be forced to go to the dinner with us afterwards, and forced to talk.� Harry took a deep breath; he had said all of this very fast.

Ginny frowned. “Harry Potter, how do you expect to pull that off? There isn’t nearly enough time to arrange that before the wedding. And personally, I’m not keen on dedicating these future should-be-pleasant weeks to being an arbitrator.�

Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and craned his head down to look straight into her eyes, pleading through them. “Listen, though, Love. It’s bound to work. I know them both quite well and I know how their minds work. Ron has already consented to stay for the few weeks, and Hermione should be a piece of cake if we handle it in a similar fashion.�

“And after they discover the other is present?� Ginny asked with a cold skepticism.

“Well…They’ll…Get over it,� Harry offered pathetically.

“I don’t understand,� Ginny sputtered, impatience written all over her face.

“If they’re staying in the same place…They’ve got to be forced to talk…C’mon, Gin, think about it.�

Ginny ran this all through her head, turning it over and over. On the one hand…they were furious with one another. But on the other hand…Harry had a point. It seemed downright logical. Ron and Hermione were both great at quarreling, but when forced to be in the same place, always seemed to reconcile. Finally, the options were weighed in Harry’s favor. She studied his face very carefully and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Fine. I have to admit, it makes a damn bit of sense. But if you mess this up, Harry Potter…If you ruin our wedding with this little scheme…� She trailed off, shaking her finger in his face.

He grinned and pulled her closer to him, hands on her waist. “Nothing will be ruined, Love. I can promise you that. If I was able to keep myself alive for this long, I’m sure I can mediate an argument.�

“I love you sometimes,� Ginny conceded with a sigh, her face softening considerably.

Harry smiled in return. “And that’s all I ask for.�