"I can't believe our little brother's getting married!" Fred cooed, leaning forward and pinching Ron's cheeks too quickly for him to escape.
Ron had been sitting peacefully on a chair in the living room of The Burrow, a smattering of parchment scattered all around him, black ink running down his chin where he had absentmindedly rested his quill. Until the twins had made their presence known, that was, rather loudly and boisterously as was their custom.
"Gerroff!" Ron said gruffly, batting his brother’s arm away. “It’s not for another fortnight, give it rest!”
“Well, whilst Mum’s away, we thought someone ought to do it!” George added, snatching a piece of parchment out of Ron’s hands. “Some Keeper you are!” he laughed, as Ron jumped up, waving the parchment to his side before balling it up and throwing it to Fred. Ron groaned at his misfortune - being stuck in the house with only the twins for company wasn't his idea of the serene setting he needed to finalise wedding details.
“What is this? A list of all the girls who turned you down before one was finally tricked into saying yes? Hey George - guess who’s name is circled? Several times!” Ron emitted a noise that sounded almost like a growl as he launched himself at his brother.
“Actually,” he panted, holding the now rather tattered parchment above his head victoriously, “it’s the guest list. Those are the people we haven’t contacted or had replies from yet. I’ve got to finish these and send them out.” The twins exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised.
“And this was left to you? How did the bride-to-be and the mother-of-the-groom overlook this most important detail?”
“And the best man and maid of honour? What about the flower girls and the band? Surely any of them would have been better at this than you!”
Ron didn’t reply as he stalked out of the door and up to his old bedroom. He tried to settle down in the mess that was his room, and did his best to ignore the sneaking suspicion that the twins might have been right.
"Harry!" Ron called loudly, banging repeatedly on old fashioned brass knocker after Apparating outside his friend's house. "Harry! Let me in!" He knocked viciously three more times before the door flew open in his face.
"What the-” were Harry’s first words on seeing the slightly dishevelled appearance of his friend, before Ron barged past him and into the kitchen.
“Nice to see you too mate!” he said, with a shake of his head and a smile as he shut what remained of the door after Ron’s rampage, and returned to the kitchen.
“This is hell - pure hell! I only just escaped! As if wedding preparations weren’t enough mayhem for me to deal with, I get left with the twins on my last day to sort out all the stuff I was meant to have done months ago! Harry - never, ever get married. Again, that is," Ron added as he poured himself a drink and recalled Harry's original wedding a few years ago. "Because if you leave my sister - and my niece, come to that - I will personally rearrange your face. But I won’t kill you then, as it would be much more fun to see the stress of planning your next wedding kill you. So either way, you’ll be disfigured and dead. So, just don‘t do it! Okay?” Harry laughed as his friend babbled on, saying something about lists and a white dress (or maybe fists and fight stress).
“Ron, you do know it's less than two weeks until the wedding, don't you? Shouldn't everything have been sorted by now?" Harry asked, bemused, as he watched Ron pour two teaspoonfuls of salt into his mug, and wondered whether he should tell his friend that it wasn't sugar. Ron only looked worse at those words, a hangdog expression on his face as he nodded dismally. "Why don’t you just leave it to the girls? That’s what I did - seemed to work, with only a bit of nagging now and then! Come on, it can’t be that bad!” Harry regretted that last sentence barely a minute after saying it.
“Great - so if it’s not that bad, you won’t mind helping, then!” Ron beamed, taking a large bite out the piece of toast that had been on Harry’s plate. “Come on, you are my best man!" he pleaded, before gagging after taking a large sip of his tea - after his toast had been stolen, Harry had elected to let Ron find out for himself what he had put in it. "It’s only for today; the girls are all out shopping for a wedding dress. I really owe you one," Ron sighed with relief as Harry reluctantly nodded. "I just need your help finding a few people, that’s all. And remember - ‘it can’t be that bad’, right?”
"Harry!" Harry found himself engulfed in hair as Hermione threw her arms around him. "I haven't seen you in so long! How are you? How are Ginny and Cathy?" She stepped back and allowed him room to breathe. He stepped out of the fireplace and brushed himself off, much to Hermione's displeasure as she pointed her wand at the soot flying about her otherwise neat living room.
"I'm fine, Ginny's great, Cathy's loud - always when we want to get some sleep, I‘ve noticed! Life's...hectic! How about you? What've you been doing since last time I saw you? Merlin, it must have been a few months ago now." Harry sat down on the edge of Hermione's sofa, leaning forward to help himself to the snacks Hermione conjured up. Harry and Hermione saw each other fairly frequently, but since Hermione had had to move further away after her promotion at work they didn’t see each other as much as they had done when they were growing up.
"Oh, not much. Work's good, I just got a really great..." Harry allowed his mind to wander as he shuffled the papers in his hands uncomfortably, not really paying attention to Hermione's anecdotes. "So...how's Ron?" she asked tentatively, though brushing her hair back fiercely behind her ears as she looked up.
With either Ron or Hermione, the other was a subject mostly avoided. On the rare occasion it was brought up, both would try to deviate as quickly as possible.
"Nothing happened, things just didn't work out," Hermione would say. "We were just kids, it was puppy love. We just grew apart over the years. That's all. Not everyone stays together forever, especially not so young. We're still friends... So, the weather's been really awful lately, hasn't it?"
"It just fell apart. We were only young, some people wait their whole lives before finding the one they're meant to be with - I didn't expect to find them at eleven! Or, well, fourteen or fifteen. Well, sixteen really. But anyway, that's not important! It just didn't happen; we just took a break, then never really got back together. That's all. So, who wants another Chocolate Frog?" Ron would hasten to digress.
And so Harry felt that explaining this was not going to be the easiest of things; and going way past the call of duty as best man. Ron owed him a lot more than one.
"He's...good." Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to play down the news, and so headed straight to the point. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," He admitted, seriously considering ducking just in case anything was close to hand, but Hermione only gave him a look.
"Harry, you know I was only asking to be polite!" She gave a small laugh. "What could you possibly want to say to me about Ron? I barely even see him anymore... Is everything okay?"
Harry could hear the sudden worry in her words; he could hear her voice rise a few decibels, see her lean forward in her seat a little, suddenly alert to everything - he could sense the change in the air.
He looked away uncomfortably, before he could notice any more signs that would make him feel even worse about giving the news. "Yes, everything's... Ron's getting married," he blurted out, his Seeker reflexes at the ready to catch any flying objects that might be launched at him, just in case. He hadn’t forgotten the birds.
As soon as it seemed safe to move, he released his numerous folders and pieces of parchment on the table, extracting one and handing it to Hermione. "Ron had a bit too much on his hands, so he asked me to help out with invitations and who could make it and seating and stuff, and you just happened to be on the list he gave me to sort out, and... are you okay, Hermione?"
"I... Yes. I'm fine. Wow. Uh - wow. That's... great! Who - who to?" Hermione stuttered, blinking rapidly. She was sitting right on the edge of her chair uncomfortably, as if the physical pain might somehow numb another type of one.
"Just a girl. Woman, actually! You don't know her. Tiffany, her name is.” Harry stood up, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He had to admit, Hermione was taking this better than he had expected; she was even smiling now. Not that there was any resentment between the two. Hermione and Ron always got on exceptionally whenever they were together - they just weren’t together very often. They had both been very supportive of each other; Ron had been at Hermione’s promotion party, Hermione had been over for Ron’s birthday and had even stayed over after a particularly bad split from his girlfriend of the time. But still, Harry had expected a bit more of a reaction from Hermione. After all, when Hermione had seen Ron kissing Lavender she had set a flock of birds on him. Now he was getting married and all she could do was smile? Well, Harry supposed, a lot’s changed since school. I guess we all grew up a bit.
“What’s she like?” he heard Hermione ask.
“Nice,” Harry shrugged. “Blonde, a bit on the short side. She works in Twilfit and Tatting’s, the robes shop? Anyway, she’s nice... You’ll see her at the wedding though, won’t you? I know it's a bit short notice - but you will be there, won't you?”
Hermione looked from Harry, to the invitation, then back to Harry again. “I - yes. I suppose so.” Harry let out a sigh of relief.
“Great. Well, I have to go, like I said, Ron’s way behind on stuff, so guess who has to help out? If only I’d kept my stupid mouth shut, eh? Well, see you later, Hermione,” Harry garbled, then quickly leaned over to give her a one armed hug and made his way out before she could change her mind.
Hermione sighed, allowing her grin to slip as Harry’s robes flashed behind her, but it was only after he’d fully disappeared that she fell back flat onto the sofa, a small gasp escaping her, her eyes wider than she’d ever thought they could be.