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Finnigan’s Romance…And Other Natural Disasters
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/PM
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 8
Summary: "There is someone for everyone," we have all heard, and no one believes this more than Ginny. She may even chant it in her sleep (in response to Harry's occasional snoring). In one case however, she may have crossed the line while trying to prove the principle. Can Harry rein in a determined Ginny? Can Seamus Finnigan ever find true happiness? Can Ron ever learn the Zen of Barbeque? Hmm...maybe.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5081



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
For those who have never met the character before, Spenser is an American exchange student who comes to Hogwarts during Harry's seventh year (and apparently stays). He was created to provide an outsider's prospective, explain my American writing style, and to blame when the cafeteria serves mystery loaf. Thank you for reading! Eric B.




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Finnigan’s Romance…And Other Natural Disasters

By Spenser Hemmingway



“Wit is an explosion of the compound spirit.”–Karl Wilhelm Friedrich Schlegel



An old friend of mine, actually a Muggle bartender, once said that there are three things you absolutely never wanted to hear. I am extremely certain that there are, in fact, a number of them, but these seemed to stand out in his mind for some reason. The first was “Oops!” from any surgeon. The second was “Now what is that doing way up here?” from your airline pilot. The most applicable I have found over time is “What is the worst that could happen?” from…well, from a good friend’s wife.

The years after the war were extremely good to all of us. Harry and Ginny had a large, beautiful house near Hogsmeade called the Broom Farm. It was where he manufactured some of the finest brooms with which a person could ever not want to sweep. Instead, through his shop in the village and a cooperative agreement with another one in Diagon Alley, his specialty brooms kept more Witches and Wizards in the air than zeppelins did Muggles.

His actual farm fields, at least those portions that didn’t produce materials for the brooms, were dedicated to one of the most successful pumpkin-growing operations in Scotland. Harry passed that opportunity on to Dobby and his wife Frumpy, and it gave the elves a good deal of spending money for their efforts. Dobby started wearing a bowler hat, smoking expensive cigars and reading the Daily Prophet’s financial page. Frumpy put her foot down however when the house-elf tried to buy a Bentley. Someone terrified her when they explained what Muggle fuel cost. The local pumpkin trade wasn’t that lucrative.

Naturally, Harry and Ginny had started a family. They had two boys and a little girl–-James, Albus, and Lily. Ron and Hermione, who lived just a couple miles to the north, had a few kids as well. I’d estimate…oh, about two hundred of them. Yes, go ahead and say it; poor Hermione. No, she only gave birth to six, but the last three were triplets (and girls–-poor Ron as well). The Weasleys had opened their own pre-Hogwarts school for five through ten-year-olds, and don’t ever try to tell Hermione that all those students weren’t really their children.

As for me, I was still teaching Muggle Studies at Hogwarts when I wasn’t trying to get something published. I’ve never been entirely certain how many Magics will ever need to know it, but all my students graduated understanding how to program a VCR. I had somehow managed to convince Luna to marry me years earlier (I begged and pleaded with her for days I think, and then she probably only did it for my money). We had our own cottage (which I’ve almost destroyed several times attempting home improvements), and two wonderful children; Nicholas and Jennifer. My daughter has a tremendous crush on Harry’s son Albus, but I’ll need to edit that out of this story, so I don’t embarrass them.

Yes, with our school days behind us and You-Know-Who dead, it really was a wonderful life (no this isn’t a Christmas story). We all worked hard from day-to-day, but then we also enjoyed the time we spent with our family, friends and neighbors. Hogsmeade was full of agreeable people; the village had a really good amateur Quidditch team and an even better microbrewery. The shepherds’ pie at the Hog’s Head was almost Molly Weasley-class. In my opinion, everyone was extremely happy.

“He is extremely miserable Harry!”

Well my opinion doesn’t always count for anything. This was especially true when Ginny was in this type of mood.

“You saw how he was at supper last Sunday,” she continued. “He’s our friend Harry, and we should do something to help him. Don’t touch that hand drill Spenser. You’ll break it.”

“Ginny, Seamus was grinning from ear-to-ear the entire time he was visiting,” Harry countered. He knew better than to ignore her, but still kept most of his attention on the broom he was upgrading for Charlie. “Don’t touch that mitering saw Spenser. You’ll break it.”

“Harry, he was only smiling that way because I had made him a pork roast, red potatoes, and a sauerkraut soufflé. It was the first real home-cooked meal he’s had in ages. What Seamus needs is a nice girl who will cook for him, or better yet give him an excuse to cook for the both of them occasionally.” Sudden realization hit her then about what she had just said. “Oh…well…maybe not that then. It really is a good thing he is such an excellent carpenter since he keeps blowing things up the way he does. Seriously though, we need to find someone nice for him. Spenser, don’t touch that level. You’ll break it.”

I was starting to regret visiting that day, despite the great material I was starting to gather for this story. How could they still hold that little incident with the wood chisel and the antique racing broom against me? Oh…right.

“Ginny, Seamus doesn’t need any help finding someone. He’s fully capable of meeting a girl on his own. Spenser…”

“I’m not touching anything Harry! Sheesh!”

“I’m sorry. I meant to ask you to hand me that spool of wire.”

“Harry Potter, are you listening to me?” she asked in an increasingly agitated tone. “We have been out of school for over twenty years. If he could have done so on his own, he would have already been married ages ago.”

“Yes dear. Anything you say dear.” As soon as Harry said those words, while simultaneously trying to ignore her, he regretted them. It was almost as bad as the time when Ron asked what was for dinner ten minutes after Hermione went into labor with the triplets.

“Harry, would you please care to rephrase that?” she asked, clearly trying to remain composed. It wasn’t working.

“What I meant…Seamus spends a third of the year at Hogwarts working on repairs and renovations during the summer. He spends his winters trying to build enough cabinets and furniture to keep his lazy brother-in-law’s store well-stocked. The rest of the time, he moves from project to project restoring historic homes. He is a master carpenter now–-one of the best in the British Isles. It’s a life he’s chosen to take on for himself.”

“He is a workaholic. He has to be lonely. Who could possibly want to live that way?” Ginny had succeeded in calming herself, and that, as much as her argument, seemed to sway Harry a bit.

“I…I suppose we could invite him to supper again this weekend…along with one of your lady friends Ginny,” he finally conceded. “Do you have anyone in mind?” Harry gave her a grin then that cemented the deal.

“Oh, yes, yes Harry! I think I know the perfect person for him! She’s…”

“Hello in the shop,” someone called out, rapping at the door at the same time. “Ah, there you are all of you. Good morning! I have the hardware you ordered Harry. Where would you like it?”

“Hello Mickey. Right there on the end bench will be great.” Harry stepped over to take part of the heavy load, and then spotted the full horse-drawn wagon just outside. “How are you today? It looks as if business is good.”

“Our business and I are both nothing short of outstanding Harry. We’re even making some Muggle sales down in Tyllaburgh. It’s all my brother and I can do to keep up with it, especially with my dad getting on in years. He’s really slowing down, and it’s to where all he can work anymore is seventeen hours a day.”

Mickey Clearwater’s family had operated the Hogsmeade farm supply and hardware store for generations, and it was one of the village’s most successful operations. They carried everything from sheep dip to door hinges, and if they didn’t have it…they would the next time they saw you. The Clearwaters’ honesty and quality was one of the reasons Harry relied on the local economy for most broom materials.

“Do you have time enough for a cup of tea?” Ginny asked. She was inspecting the delivery, but not bothering to compare it to their list. She knew it was correct.

“I’m afraid I can’t today. I have those oats to deliver to the Fenderpuddle farm, and the rest of the load needs to be taken to Hogwarts for the infirmary remodeling. I’m glad I found you out here so quickly in fact Ginny. Your son told me where you were. I’m afraid I…uhm, interrupted him and his girlfriend over there.” Mickey looked thoroughly embarrassed about having mentioned it. I had a slightly different response.

“Harry…Ginny, you were talking about not touching things. Does that include my daughter? As for breaking things, does that include Albus’ legs?” They knew I was joking, and I winked at them to confirm it.

“Spenser, I wouldn’t worry too much. They’re only sixteen-years-old, and...” Ginny stepped in front of Harry before he could finish, cocked her head and gave him a smile that scared both of us. “Oh, that’s…right,” he mumbled. She had been seventeen when they married. Harry and I excused ourselves. We could hear Ginny and Mickey laughing at us as we walked back toward the house at a quick pace.


*****



I don’t know why, but somehow I was wrangled into Ginny’s matchmaking scheme. I would have liked to have thought it was her desire to provide me with another story writing opportunity, but I think the actual fact was it gave Albus and Jennifer more time together. My daughter hadn’t been fooled for a second by Harry and my stern talk after catching the two kissing again. She had talked to Aunt Ginny and/or her mother, and I found myself barbequing ribs that Sunday for a number of guests.

Despite the warm July weather, Seamus had appeared at the Broom Farm wearing a nice, but plainly uncomfortable suit and tie. The poor guy! Ginny must have intentionally given him the wrong dress code. Even I had been allowed to avoid those at my own wedding. Harry risked defying Ginny when he loaned our friend a nice light cotton shirt. I saw him silently mouth “you’re pushing too hard” to her when Seamus had gone off to change.

In all honesty, apart from her pulling that, the afternoon affair promised to actually be a nice one. The clear sky was beautiful, the ribs slathered in my secret barbeque sauce smelled magnificent, and the serving table was covered with pies, fruit salads, jugs of cider, and homegrown pumpkin juice.

Ron’s boys helped me to keep the fire going, while Hermione and their daughters went off to gather flowers to use as centerpieces. Eighteen-year-old James and his Australian girlfriend Rebecca, along with Albus and Jennifer took the trouble of setting up the tables and place settings for us, freeing the old folks (did I actually say that?) to meddle with Seamus’ love life. A kiss on the back of my neck announced Luna’s arrival–-either that or someone’s husband would be punching me in a moment. All we were missing was the guest of honor…the victim.

Ginny explained that the woman was the oldest and only unmarried daughter of Hogsmeade’s barber. She had never actually met Blanche Dubois, but the woman’s mother had twice done Ginny’s hair at the village shop, and she had described her in great detail. We cringed when the words great personality were repeatedly used. My son Nicholas had been sent to escort the woman to the farm over an hour before, and we weren’t sure whether to anticipate or dread the arrival. We were more than a bit puzzled when a short time later Nicholas returned alone. Blanche had supposedly left her home before noon, and no one had seen her since.

Obviously, Ginny was very upset at this news. If I didn’t know better though, I would have thought that both Seamus and Harry appeared somewhat relieved. The only thing worse than a disastrous blind date, was having your wife arrange one for someone. At least a great picnic meal was on hand, and the ribs were ready to serve. Ginny finally and reluctantly conceded the fact that Blanche might not be coming and indicated that we could get started filling our plates. At least Seamus was permitted the first meat off the grill.

“Harry, I really appreciate your asking me over today, but I’m not exactly sure what Ginny is trying to do with the woman she invited.”

“A little more barbeque sauce please Spense. Seamus, I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

“Hey Harry, isn’t that Mickey Clearwater’s wagon coming up your lane?” Ron asked, despite a mouth full of potato salad. We turned to look and saw he was in fact correct, and there appeared to be someone’s legs dangling over the rear gate. I for one had a sudden sinking feeling.

As the wagon came to a stop at the rear of the house, the only two sounds we could hear were the fire crackling…and someone singing off-key. My sinking feeling now felt as if I had eaten Hagrid’s hedgerow flambé.

“Good afternoon Harry. I’m really sorry about this, but the lady insisted that I drive her out here. By insist, I mean that she was about to finish destroying The Three Broomsticks if I didn’t, and then Apparate here anyway. She would probably have hurt someone doing the first, and then gotten herself killed attempting the second. She is extremely…”

“She is extremely drunk,” Ginny finished.

Blanche had by now fallen off the wagon (literally). Standing up, she proved to be well over six feet and possibly closer to seven. This was hard to establish correctly since she was wearing spike heels at least three inches high and the remnants of a hairdo that rose an equal distance above her head. Some of you might be eating now, so I won’t describe her other body hair, except that some of it was braided. Too much? I’m sorry.

Her short dress was…I can’t tell you what color was predominant among the twenty or so shades. Regarding her make-up; well, it matched the dress. I thought at first that she might have been wearing some reddish-tint eyeshade, but then decided that it was the natural color of her eyes at that moment. What a catch you found for Seamus Ginny! I thought. Her mortified expression told me that she agreed.

“Helloooo everybody!” Blanche shouted/garbled. She partly danced and partly stumbled across the yard in our direction, again singing and waving to everyone. Nine-year-old Lily hid behind her Aunt Hermione at the sight, and several of us wanted to join her there. “Ohhhh…you must be the date Mummy found for me. You are soooo cute. Come here you!”

Blanche grabbed Ron by the collar then and delivered a kiss that was so…well, like I said, some of you might be eating. Ron pushed her off forcefully and then drew his wand. It was a waste of time. The woman spun about, staggered some more, took out the barbeque grill as she passed, and then the serving table full of pies when she landed. I started scanning the yard for hidden cameras. This whole thing had to be a television joke.

As the kids began to clean up the mess, and Hermione and Luna did their best to console Ron and me about the lost ribs, Harry levitated the drunken woman back to the wagon. He was not in a good mood, but I saw him continually throwing Ginny quick glances. She was forcing herself not to cry about the incident, instead channeling it into anger as Harry was.

“Mickey…where did you find this…Blanche?” Ginny asked their hardware vender.

“In the alleyway behind the pub. I was delivering some empty barrels to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny, I had no idea she would be this bad. The woman must have been inside for hours before we met, but I really believed bringing her here would defuse things. I thought that by driving slow it would give her a chance to clear her head.”

“She actually might be worse sober,” Harry offered. “I don’t suppose we could have you take her back there for us?”

“It would be my pleasure Harry. I owe all of you that at least. I also seem to remember that there is an especially large dumpster just outside their kitchen door.”


*****



Despite what happened at the Broom Farm, or perhaps because of it, Ginny was more determined than ever to find Seamus just the right girl. I didn’t really see either Harry or her for almost a week, but reports following Jennifer’s frequent visits told me that there were a number of arguments occurring at their supper table. Allowing my friends their privacy, I will say that in the end Harry was convinced by her case (to a point), but he insisted that any future prospects undergo much greater scrutiny. Surprisingly, Seamus good-naturedly agreed to her attempts provided the next blind date was a quieter affair.

Of course, Ginny was thrilled about this and made Seamus all manner of promises. Harry, Ron and I were skeptical about what she had planned, but we felt a bit better when Ginny asked Hermione and Luna to accompany her to the next woman’s home.

Louise Treeturner was a thirty-eight-year-old widow living with her poor in-laws at the edge of the village. She had obtained a part-time job as a Ministry clerk assigned to their Hogsmeade Agricultural Bureau office. It provided her extended family’s only income, so, while she had no real desire to remarry, she could clearly see the monetary advantages of such.

The wives’ visit with Louise appeared to be extremely productive. Ginny kept insisting that it was just an initial date they were planning for their friend, but inside she seemed to be thrilled with the prospects and possibilities. Hermione and Luna were both more cautious, and not just because of the Blanche incident. Either would be pleased if Seamus and Louise just enjoyed themselves together someplace for the day and then let it go from there.

That evening Luna described the new girl to me as short and slightly heavy-set, dark-haired and not unattractive despite heavy eyeglasses. She seemed to be somewhat intelligent, but Hermione had considered her to be too full of herself. A late lunch was arranged for Seamus and Louise the following Thursday at the Hog’s Head (I told you the shepherd’s pie was magnificent). Ginny was extremely excited; Hermione was extremely doubtful. Luna agreed with Hermione but was much better about hiding it.

That day the sun rose behind dark storm clouds, but by midmorning the sky was once again clear. Everyone I encountered at the castle took this as a good omen for the blind date, but then it had been sunny at the picnic as well.

Poking my head in the refurbished infirmary, I was pleased to see that the work really had been beautifully done, and it was almost complete as well. Already there with Seamus were Harry and Ron. They had been thinking the same thing I was.

“Good morning Spenser. Harry and Ron were just trying to talk me out of the lunch date. You’re not…”

“No, we’re not! You need to do this Seamus, and we’re all just asking you to be careful,” Harry corrected. “Women can be dangerous, and you haven’t even met this one yet.”

Dangerous? There is an understatement!

“Harry, I sat down with Ginny and Mickey for a while the other day when they were both here. Mickey brought those fixtures you’re admiring there Ron. Anyway, we all talked; drank coffee. Ginny made a lot of good points, and…well… She’s right to make me do this. All of you have homes, children…you’ve built good lives for yourselves over the years. I’ve just built a lot of fancy furniture and houses. I blinked, and a great portion of my life is gone.”

“Seamus it’s not like that at all,” Ron told him.

Our friend just held up a hand, smiled at the three of us and walked off to meet Louise.


*****



That evening the clouds returned, and with them the promise of a thunder storm. I elected to play the concerned father, and to go walk Jennifer home from the Broom Farm–-not that Albus wouldn’t have volunteered. Going there was as much to hear any news about Seamus Finnigan as it was to rescue my little girl from that Potter boy. Who was I kidding? Someday soon I would be writing a story about the two of them.

The sky opened up just as I reached Ginny and Harry’s back porch. Sure enough, the lightening immediately joined the rain, and, since it was too dangerous to Apparate in it, we either had to get drenched or wait the storm out. Seeing Seamus siting in the kitchen as I entered, I elected the latter.

“Great Gatsby Seamus…what happened to your face? You look as if you were beat up by a half-dozen ogres!” I almost shouted.

“I was beat up by those ogres Spense, but just four…and one angry date when she finally arrived. Thank you, Ginny,” he said as well as his swollen face would allow. He applied the ice she had handed him and flinched at its touch. Ginny looked even more humiliated than she had after their first failure, but Seamus was plainly amused and ready to start laughing about whatever happened.

“Here’s a mug of cider,” Harry said, handing me the warm beverage. “We can repeat the whole story for you, but I’m afraid the rain conveniently trapped your favorite stenographer in the small barn with Albus.”

“Conveniently?”

“It’s all right Spenser. Potter men are compulsive gentleman. She’ll be fine.” It was the first time that I had seen Ginny smile since I arrived.

“Okay then…what happened?” I asked, resisting the temptation to actually pull out a pencil and pad. It just didn’t seem like the right time for some reason.

“I left the castle and stopped in for a few minutes to visit with Hagrid at his hut. He’s been helping me with a lot of the scaffold erection this summer, and I promised to drop off a seed, shrubbery, and fertilizer order for him at the farm store. I took my time walking into the village, and after dropping it off at Clearwaters, I went and got a table at the Hog’s Head. I suppose I was about ninety minutes early.

“I held off drinking a beer since I didn’t know how this woman felt about that, but I must have nursed two pots of tea waiting on her. A few people started drifting in, and I watched as they did, but no one came up to me for a long time. Finally, a bit after one, this one blond lady approached, sat down and then apologized for being late.”

“Wait…I seem to remember this Louise person had dark hair, not blond,” I pointed out.

“I may have omitted a couple things in my description to Seamus,” Ginny meekly replied. She attempted another smile and was rewarded with one back from Finnigan before he continued.

“Well, there we were trying to talk…not really saying too much. If anything, she was just flirting and laughing at whatever I said as if she were mental. It was actually a bit annoying after a while. Now this is where it gets strange. After maybe ten minutes another woman walks up to us and demands to know what is going on. She claimed to be the girl I was to meet and wasn’t at all happy that I was with someone else there. They took to arguing with each other, and I thought they were about to come to blows over it.”

“Was that when they started pounding on you Seamus?” I asked. The story was getting to be as interesting as it was odd.

“No Spense; that was when their four large friends came over. Two of them claimed to be the women’s husbands, and the she-trolls changed their tales then to match what was being said. I was being set up. I don’t know if they intended to rob me, or someone was mad at me, but these boys meant business and that was to break some bones. The only thing I couldn’t understand was why none of them had drawn a wand…not a one. I went for mine and that was when the biggest one hit me.”

“I’ll go out on a limb and assume our side lost.”

“The first few minutes I was taking the brunt of it Spenser, but then Hagrid walked into the pub and lent a hand. It seems that he completely forgot about the various rose bushes the school needed to get in the ground soon. He stopped into Clearwaters, someone told him where I was, and he chose to stop in. Good thing too he did. The fight didn’t last too long after that.

“Of course, to top it all off, my real blind date had been standing to one side watching the whole thing including when one of the other women had been rolling around on the floor with me. Your Louise lady seemed to take it the wrong way. She backhanded me with her walking stick. Ginny, the next girl you find for me should hopefully have a gentler disposition.”

We all took turns then asking Seamus if he was crazy or just drunk. Even Ginny did.


*****
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“Ginny!”

“Harry, it’s not our fault. We were very careful this time.”

“Ginny!”

“I am not giving up…we are not giving up Harry. I don’t understand what all of it was about at the Hog’s Head this afternoon, but we were so close. We know this is still a good thing. He is our friend…our good friend. Seamus has stood beside us in fights. He helped us when we started our broomsmith business. He held our James the evening he was born. Harry, he even came up with that outrageous Halloween conspiracy to try to bring us together years ago. That probably even helped.”

It was close to midnight, and the storm had long since passed. The clouds had moved on and revealed a glittering sky. It was truly beautiful, and they appreciated all the more after the fierce tempest that had assailed the region. Harry had to wonder what the next morning would bring considering how chaotic the weather had been. He didn’t have the luxury of a Muggle television to learn the forecast and hadn’t attempted the equivalent spells in years.

It occurred to him then that what Ginny was trying to bring about for Seamus was, to some extent, comparable. Something just as wonderful might await the man if all of them could ride out the storms in between. They really had been careful this time, as she said, but it was almost as if nature was fighting them. A flicker of a thought popped into his head, but it was instantly waved off as being too outlandish.

“Ginny…” he repeated again, “I think the Fine Arts instructor at Ron and Hermione’s school might like to meet Seamus. He received a hug then that told him she agreed.


*****



Madeline Stylesetter did indeed want to meet Seamus Finnigan. She was eight years his junior, but still a pretty…wonderfully alive young lady. It was unfortunate that the teacher then heard some ridiculous rumor about how Seamus was in reality a practicing polygamist who secretly had six wives all over England, Ireland, and Scotland. No amount of persuasion from any of us could convince her that it was complete hogwash.

The prospect after Madeline was a new partner in the Hogsmeade apothecary shop. We lost her when she accidentally tried to plant thistleberries in her garden. The rashes lasted more than two weeks, during which time she met a handsome young Healer someone called in to examine her.

The next five or six women were similarly dissuaded, scared away, side-tracked, and/or shown to be improper matches for poor Finnigan, and, by the end of that summer, I really expected him to just enter a monastery. He was unmistakably discouraged about what was happening, but, to his credit, he refused to admit defeat, or to stop encouraging Ginny.

It seemed to be the right attitude to have. The last week of August arrived, and Luna and I had not left our house in three days. We were polishing a book about Ginny, her seventh year at Hogwarts, and all the challenges it had brought us. We simply hadn’t been able to follow what the latest disasters were associated with Finnigan’s romances. That was usually when an author throws a major twist at you.

We were just beginning to clean up the parchments from the kitchen table, preparing to start supper, when Jennifer and Albus burst through our back door. They were both completely out of breath, and we had to assume that they had run the entire mile from the Potter house.

“Mum…Dad…proposed…wedding…we just…” Jennifer panted.

“Holy frijoles! Albus proposed to you?” I yelled in disbelief.

“What? No Dad.”

“I would never do that Mr. Hemmingway…I mean not without Mrs. Hemmingway’s and your permission and blessing.” The two blushed candy-apple red then, so I knew it was something else they were talking about.

“Albus, both of you just turned seventeen. You’ve legal and you’ve had our blessing since you kissed Jennifer on the cheek when you were five. Yes, we’re actually serious.” Their wide eyes told me how surprised they both were at that. “Now…who is getting married then?”

“Mr. Finnigan is Dad. The wedding is at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning at the Broom Farm.”


*****



That morning a particularly heavy dew lay on the ground, so, despite our nice clothes for the ceremony, we wore overshoes for the walk to the Potter farm. Luna and I were still a little dazed that this was happening, let alone how quickly it had come about. Quizzing Jennifer and Albus had provided very little additional information except that it was not a joke, there was a surprise bride, and yes, I did not have to wear a tie (thank goodness!).

Most of the path between the Broom Farm and our own home, the Chapter House, passed through a heavy forest. It was a beautiful area, and one of my favorite places. I especially liked how the morning sun was passing between the leaves to give the woods a pastoral light. I always looked forward to seeing that. As I walked along with my two favorite ladies (Nicholas had already returned to college in Oregon), I was suddenly struck with how much time had really passed for all of us. Now Seamus was about to begin a new life with a new lady…and we didn’t even know her name.

As we approached the house, we saw that everyone was already hard at work setting up for what would make the picnic arrangements pale in comparison. A small platform had been set up for the actual ceremony, a number of flower baskets were waiting to one side, and I saw how the serving tables this time were set well away from heavy traffic.

We had two hours until the wedding, and it looked as if we were the last to arrive of our three families. Luna excused herself to go help Hermione, and Jennifer went to find…well, you know who she went to find. I took off my jacket and moved to help unload the Clearwaters’ wagon full of extra chairs and tables. I couldn’t help looking to see if Blanche was still asleep in the back.

“Good morning Harry, Ron, Mickey. You folks have really gone to town here. How did you do this so fast?” I already knew the answer.

“Mickey came out with everything we needed almost the moment we walked in the store,” Harry explained. “I’ve given up trying to challenge them for supplies they might not have.” He was smiling, but there was something in the look he gave me that made me very suspicious.

“So, when do we get to meet the bride?” Mickey asked suddenly, beating me to the question.

“Ah…that’s right. Neither of you have yet,” Ron said. “We were saving it as a big surprise.”

“Seamus obviously can’t see her in the dress yet, but I don’t see why you two can’t meet her quickly,” Harry added. He started toward the house at a quick step, pulling out and checking his pocket watch as he went. I could imagine the tight schedule he was under that day.

“I still can’t believe you organized all this just since Seamus proposed to this girl.”

“Actually Spense, Ginny quietly began the preparations a couple weeks ago. She…we suspected that the whole thing would happen, and we wanted to be prepared,” Harry explained. Once again, he checked his watch as we were led through the front door and to Harry’s den at the back of the house. It was evidently being used as the bride’s waiting room. Just as we reached the door, we heard running footsteps coming up behind us.

“Harry…what in the name of St. Ozymandias is going on here? Hermione said that there some sort wedding!”

“Yes Seamus…yours,” Harry calmly informed him. Mickey and my expressions matched Seamus’ suddenly. “You’ll like her. She’s a wonderful girl; just a bit mischievous the way you are these days.”

“Huh? What are you talking about Harry?” he asked. Something akin to guilt flashed across Finnigan’s face then.

“I know you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, but, under the circumstances, we should really make an exception. You need to talk to her,” Ron said, opening the den’s door. He gently grabbed one of Seamus’ arms while Harry took the other, and both led him inside. I was maybe a step behind.

There at a small table sat a slender woman with short brown hair and wearing a simple but very beautiful white dress. In her hands was a small wedding bouquet onto which she had been tying a lavender ribbon. After a moment, the woman slowly rose, and turned to face all of us. All at once Seamus’ eyes were the size of Snitches, and his mouth hung open the way…well the way mine does when Luna surprises me with something (which is extremely often).

“Michelle Alma Clearwater…what are you doing?” he uttered in an unexpectedly quiet voice. It was a good thing Ron and Harry were on either side to take hold of him. Then, from behind us, the thud we heard at the door was the real thing hastily clutching the jamb for support.

Oh…did I forget to mention that Mickey was a girl, and that it was just her nickname?


*****< /center>



It had been a number of years since the Broom Farm had seen a wedding. I will say that the future provided the opportunity for a number of them, but those are other stories. All right, Albus finally proposed to Jennifer on Christmas Eve, but that’s all the spoiler you are getting…for now.

At first some of us didn’t think the nuptials that day were going to take place. Seamus and Mickey asked for privacy and then began a high-volume shouting match with each other. Harry and Ron led Ginny and me into the room she used for shop bookkeeping and the family pensieve. Checking his watch yet again, he indicated that we still had maybe two or three minutes until the Polyjuice Potion wore off.

“How did you find out?” I immediately asked. It looked odd with Harry’s arm around a strange girl.

“Ginny sorted it out actually, but we both had our suspicions.”

“Easy on the dress Harry. We’re going to need it in a short while. Yes, I’m sure,” Ginny insisted.

“There were just too many things happening to poor Seamus. We did start to wonder why Mickey was often there before or during the problems…but not always. There had to be someone else involved,” Harry explained.

“Then it hit us. There was only one other person on hand for all the date attempts,” Ginny added.

“Seamus himself.” Harry checked his pocket watch yet again, no doubt anxious to have his wife back. Mickey was a very pretty girl in her own right, but I was sure that Harry preferred Potter freckles to Clearwater. “As I was saying, Ginny was the first one to notice how the two felt about each other. They’ve known each other and been friends since Seamus was an apprentice carpenter…best friends probably almost as long.”

“Somewhere along the way the two fell in love, but both were too stubborn to admit it, even to themselves. In other words, they did exactly what Harry and Ginny once did.”

“Ron…it seems as if I remember you and Hermione needing that same nudge yourselves,” Ginny told her brother. A moment later her features began to shift, and, after several seconds, we had pretty red hair and a familiar face back with us.

“That’s much better,” Harry said, finally willing to give her a quick kiss before continuing. “Where was I? Oh…well, after we started to pay attention when the two were together, it all started making perfect sense. Ron and I found the real Blanche Dubois, and she didn’t know anything about a picnic date here. She had been in France for over a month then. Mickey had overheard our plans that one day out in the workshop. She found and hired some Squib transient to portray the woman and spoil the matchmaking.”

“Seamus was the only one who saw through her scheme. He was determined to teach her a lesson then by keeping at it with Ginny’s project. He had second thoughts though after talking to Mickey and me at coffee one day. He staged everything in the Hog’s Head, including her knowing about his being in the pub and Hagrid stopping the fight just in time.” Ginny paused here to make her point. “It had finally dawned on him how he felt about Mickey. He was in love, but completely at sea. He was trying to buy her sympathy.”

“I get it now. Things just started rolling from there. She wanted to stop the whole process and maybe get him to finally admit his feelings. He wanted it to continue so he could make her jealous and admit everything first. What one thing tipped you off?” I asked.

“You wrote that story about his Halloween Conspiracy Spenser. Seamus isn’t exactly a plotting mastermind. He was, in fact, very clumsy about his part in the affair, and Mickey wasn’t much better. If there was any one thing, I would say it was the way they began to argue all the time the way Hermione and Ron do. It was a dead giveaway. Ah, and if you have noticed…it has stopped now in the next room. I had best go change out of this dress and get it ready for Mickey.”

As she left to go upstairs, surprising three or four guests with her attire, we followed her, and then drifted outside to check the work. Leaning against the edge of one of the rental tables was Seamus Finnigan complete with messed up hair, a partially unbuttoned work shirt, a trace of lipstick on his left cheek (Mickey never wore much, but it was her shade), and a tremendous smile.

“Harry…I don’t imagine you have some dress robes I could borrow?”


*****



The party broke up shortly before nine in the evening, and it more than made up for our other failures. Once again, we enlisted our army of children to help with the clean-up (they are good for something after all), and we had the worst of it gone before dark.

The happy couple would spend their wedding night in a rented cottage behind Honeydukes, and then immediately depart for a nice two weeks in Mexico. Harry and Ginny had timed their stunt to coincide with the end of Seamus’ carpentry projects at the school, and we all complimented them on it.

The Finnigans had already owled his brother-in-law in Ireland about how Seamus would be seriously cutting back on his supply of inexpensive furniture products. Mickey had also explained to her father and brother that they needed to contact some Clearwater cousins to come take her place at the farm store. Seamus was opening his own woodshop in the town of Tyllaburgh to the south and needed her help running it…between babies.

“It has really been quite a summer, hasn’t it?” Harry ventured, breaking the quiet of another beautifully, starry night.

“Amen,” Ron said in reply. He was curled up on the porch swing (one Seamus in fact built) with Hermione resting her head on his shoulder. I had thought they were both asleep.

“Would anyone like one last piece of moonberry pie?” Luna asked, appearing with two plates of it. She seemed to be the only one in our group who was still wide awake.

“Ugh! I’ve already had four slices of that and two from the wedding cake. How do I stay thin around all of you?”

“Keeping up with me Spenser,” she said with a slight laugh. “I guess I’ll just give it to the house-elves.” As she walked by him again though, Luna intentionally reached out with one of the servings, and handed it off to Ron. He began to eat it with his eyes still closed.

“Again Ginny, you did a great job getting this wedding organized,” Harry told her. His voice sounded as tired as Ron’s did. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson about matchmaking though.”

“Yes Harry…of course I did.”

“Good…great.”

“I’ve taken very careful mental notes about everything I shouldn’t do next time.”

“Eeep…?” Harry managed to babble out. “Ginny, no! I love you, but…no!”

“Harry, it’s Paulo Schwartz our postmaster. I’m exceptionally worried about him.”

“No! No! No!”

“Harry, his wife left him last year to run off with a traveling calliope salesman.”

“No Ginny! No!”

“I was thinking of maybe Agnes Tonguecruster. She collects Muggle postage stamps, and they might have a lot in common.”

“Absolutely not Ginny!” Harry stood up then, slapped his hands over his ears and ran inside. Ginny was right on his heels still making her case.

“Well Spenser, I would imagine this story is complete now. You should go ahead and insert it here.”

“Insert what Hermione?” I stood, stretched, and then regretted it when my bones creaked.

“What you put at the end of all your stories.”

“Huh…what’s that?”

“Mischief managed!”

“I don’t think so Hermione. Not while Ginny knows of a single lonely bachelor in Hogsmeade.”
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