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SIYE Time:9:00 on 28th March 2024
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I'll Be There For You
By Kezzabear

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Category: Alternate Universe, Buried Gems
Characters:All
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 311
Summary: When your life's a little bit ... sucky, you can count on your friends. Well, most of them anyway ... well, some of them at least ... maybe just one.
Hitcount: Story Total: 80259; Chapter Total: 9412





Author's Notes:
Please be thanking my lovely beta, goingbacktosquareone who doesn't let me post anything unless she's seen it first.




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Harry Potter stood at the window of Ron’s old room and looked out at the bustling throng of guests below. George and Bill were ushering people into the marquee and Charlie was herding swans off the footpaths and back to the pond. Fleur was chasing a satin clad Victoire across the orchard and Auntie Muriel was inspecting the temporary tulip border.

“Harry!” Ron burst into the room. “I can’t find my socks!”

“They’re in the dresser,” Harry said calmly. “You put them there last night.”

“I did?”

“Yes, next to the rings.”

“The rings?” Ron squawked. “Haven’t you got the rings?”

“Not, yet,” Harry said patiently. “You’re going to give them to me now, after we go back downstairs and get your socks and put them on your feet.”

“And you’re going to look after them?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly, steering Ron out the door and down to Bill’s old room where they had been getting dressed.

Ron’s nervousness was getting to Harry. He had to spend a whole day with Ginny and the thought terrified him. Ever since she’d kissed him he didn’t know what to do with himself around her. It was obvious she didn’t remember that she’d kissed him, but Harry could remember the feel of every curve under his fingers and the taste of her on his lips. He found himself itching to hold her every time he touched her, feel her softness against his body; and he wanted to kiss her again, to see if she always tasted like chocolate and Firewhisky.

This was completely inappropriate behaviour for people who were friends. He must be incredibly desperate — or horny — if he was thinking Ginny would be an easy target to satisfy his male lust.

He was such a perve.

“Harry!” Ron cried, halfway down the flight of stairs that led to Bill’s old room. “Did you pick up the flowers?”

“Yes, Ron,” said Harry, steering the nervous groom into the bedroom and pushing him onto the bed gently. “I gave them to your mother and she took the bouquets to Ginny who took them to Hermione and I have our buttonholes right here.” Harry unearthed a pair of black socks from the top dresser drawer and handed them to Ron before plucking the little ring box out and slipping it into his pocket.

“Is Hermione going to be all right?” Ron asked, a look of terror on his face and his left sock dangling precariously off the end of his foot.

“She’s going to be fine, Ginny’s with her,” Harry reassured him, resisting the urge to pull Ron’s socks on for him, the way he did with Teddy.

“Why does she want to marry me?” Ron suddenly moaned.

“Because she loves you,” Harry answered automatically, trying to sound as if this wasn’t the fifth time he’d given Ron this answer that morning.

“She’s going to regret it,” Ron moaned. “She’s going to wake up one morning and realise she married ‘Ron Weasley, No-Hoper’.”

“No, she isn’t,” Harry said. “She’s going to wake up every morning and thank Merlin that she married the best, most loyal friend in the world, who worships the ground she walks on.”

“You’re so optimistic,” Ron said with a sigh.

“Look,” Harry said, sitting on the bed next to Ron. “I don’t know a whole lot about love, but-”

“Of course you do!”

“Ron, who’s getting married here?” Harry asked exasperated. “It’s not me, is it? You’re the one who’s been in love with Hermione since he was eleven-”

“Sixteen!” protested Ron.

“Fourteen,” Harry bargained.

“Fifteen?”

“Does it matter?” Harry asked quietly. “You love her and she loves you and you know it.”

“I do love her,” Ron said. “I love her so much … it’s like … I just want to be with her.” He shrugged.

“So, be with her,” Harry said softly.

“Thanks, Harry,” Ron said and he suddenly threw himself on Harry and did the best imitation of Hagrid that Harry had ever witnessed.

“Ron,” he croaked, unable to breathe. “Leggo …”

“You’re the best friend anybody ever had,” Ron said emotionally, finally letting go.

“Thanks mate,” Harry said. He stood up and strode to the door of the room. “Now put your socks on, I’m going to do the Best Man thing and make sure everyone’s you know … where they are supposed to be.” Ron grinned at him and began to pull his socks on hastily and Harry slipped out the door with a sigh of relief. It was a big responsibility, making sure the groom didn’t trip over his own inadequacies on the way to the altar.

“Harry, dear,” Molly called as he entered the kitchen, “can you take Victoire over to Hermione’s house? Bill’s trying to fix the wards down by the gate — a reporter got in, can you believe it? And Fleur’s not up to Apparition right now.”

“Um, sure …” Harry said, scanning the room for the little girl.

“Oh … she’s in the sitting room,” said Molly with a sigh. “I think she’s still clean …she was chasing the swans ...”

“Well, I’ll clean her up,” Harry reassured her. “I’ve had plenty of practice — Teddy is a filth magnet.”

“You are a treasure, Harry,” Molly said, patting him affectionately on the cheek. “One day a wonderful girl will realise that.”

“Oh, you’re supposed to say that,” Harry said, kissing her on the cheek. “That’s what all mums say.”

“I want you to be happy,” Molly said. “I couldn’t want it more if you were my own.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I’ll be okay — I’ve got a girl right here who knows what a treasure I am.” He winked at her and headed for the door.

“Harry,” Molly’s tone stopped him and he turned around. “Don’t take too long.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” Harry said, knowing she wasn’t talking about his little errand. “I’ll be right back.” And he left before she could say anything more.

It actually wasn’t Victoire Weasley that took his breath away, although she did land rather heavily on his chest when he fell. People shouldn’t startle him right after Apparition — especially not ones in figure hugging dresses. Either Hermione had exquisite taste or she had let Ginny choose her own gown because she looked absolutely gorgeous. The midnight blue gown had a split up the side that showed off one shapely calf and her heels gave extra definition to the muscles already toned by Quidditch practice. Her tiny waist emphasised the swell of her breasts and slender straps showed off the sprinkling of freckles across her shoulders. Her hair tumbled in a riot of curls on the top of her head and diamonds sparkled at her throat.

“Harry!” Ginny hissed. “Get up before Hermione sees you! She’ll have an absolute conniption if she sees you wrinkling your robes!”

“I have fallen and bumped my head, possibly have concussion, and all you are worried about is my robes?” Harry asked, scrambling to his feet. “I could have a serious injury.”

“Only to your ego,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“I have brought the demon child,” said Harry, indicating Victoire, who was thoughtfully disassembling the buds on one of Helen Granger’s rose bushes.

“It’s a good thing she’s scattering petals down the aisle then,” said Ginny with a sigh. “She looks so angelic …”

“Just like her Auntie Ginny,” said Harry, unable to stop himself.

“I think you’d better sit down,” Ginny said. “You obviously have concussion.”

“No, I don’t,” Harry insisted. “You look … really great.” Somehow, he thought, you don’t tell your friends that they look really, really hot.

“My hair won’t lie flat and I think one of my boobs is bigger than the other,” Ginny said flatly.

“No it isn’t,” Harry said, cursing the fact that she’d brought up her breasts. Now he couldn’t stop looking at them.

“No, really,” Ginny insisted. She indicated her left breast and Harry’s mouth went dry. “See, this one here — it’s definitely bigger. No wonder I haven’t had a date since Robert took me skating, I’m a freak.”

“No, you haven’t had a date since Robert took you skating because everyone fears your Bat-Bogey hex,” Harry said, dragging his eyes back up to her face. “You’re lucky you know some big, bad Aurors because you could really have gotten in trouble for leaving him chained to that lamp post without his trousers on.”

“He was stalking me,” Ginny pouted.

“He just wanted to make sure you were all right,” Harry said. “I feel for the poor bloke, really I do.”

“Oh rubbish,” Ginny scoffed. “If you felt for him you would have rescued the poor sod before three o’clock in the morning.”

“Mrs Wilson’s cat was stuck in the tree first,” Harry said nonchalantly. “It was December; the poor thing could have frozen to death.”

“Well, I did leave Robert his boots …”

“See, there you go,” Harry smirked. “Now, I need to get back to make sure Ron hasn’t tried to escape out the window.”

“Oh, him too?” Ginny said. “Hermione has been driving me batty all morning! What if he sees I’ve got big hair? What if he remembers what my teeth looked like, and that I could pass that on to our kids? What if he realises I study so much? Honestly …”

“It’s a bit frazzling,” Harry agreed.

“And what kind of good am I?” Ginny demanded. “What do I know about love? It’s not like I’m in love, or ever been in love, or ever look likely to be in love.”

“Don’t say that-”

“I’m just sick of this, you know?” Ginny said. “Everybody’s getting married, having babies. I’m always the bridesmaid and my wardrobe is full of ugly dresses I’ll never wear again.”

“You look absolutely beautiful today,” Harry said softly.

“It’s never going to be me,” Ginny said, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m going to be old and alone forever and I’ll go broke buying endless bridesmaids dresses and I’ll start collecting tea cosies and knitting scarves that nobody wears and I’ll be living in a tiny flat with fifty-seven cats and everybody will cross the street when they see me coming because there will be rumours that I eat little children!”

“Ginny, Ginny, calm down,” Harry said, catching her wildly gesticulating hands. “It’s not that bad.”

“Harry,” Ginny looked at him solemnly. “You’re not the one who looked like a trophy at Bill’s wedding.”

“I thought you looked lovely at Bill’s wedding.”

“You didn’t have big hair at George’s wedding,” Ginny insisted stubbornly.

“It was messy,” Harry said with a smile.

“You didn’t look like a meringue at Percy’s wedding.”

“No, but you pulled it off beautifully.”

“I’m serious, Harry,” Ginny moaned.

“So am I,” Harry said. “I know it’s hard watching everyone around you find someone and settle down, but … one day someone is going to see past all the big hair and the meringue dresses and see what I see.”

“Only they’ll want to kiss me,” said Ginny, staring at him. Harry swallowed heavily.

“I-”

“GINNY!” Hermione’s voice shrieked from inside. “I haven’t got anything blue! I can’t get married!”

“Oh, honestly!” Ginny said, throwing her hands up, breaking Harry’s grip. “If this is the sort of madness kissing leads to, the rest of the world can keep it. What was I thinking — wanting someone to kiss me! It sends you mental, I’m sure of it!” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, relieved he hadn’t made an utter fool of himself before she came to her senses.

“Go and sort Hermione out,” Harry said softly. “You’re just having a moment. Mum always says there are days when everything just looks bleak. This is probably just one of those days.”

“I think I’m pre-menstrual,” Ginny said with a sniff.

“Probably,” Harry said.

“Prat.”

“Don’t worry; no one will be looking at you anyway,” Harry smirked. “It’s a rule; they have to look at the bride — all day — until she squirms because no one will leave her alone. You don’t want to be her.”

“GINNY!”

“Go on,” Harry said. “I’ll see you there.” Ginny grimaced at him and beckoned to Victoire. Harry gave her a little wave as she disappeared inside the house.

She was beautiful … and smart … and definitely sexy. Harry groaned. It was most disconcerting that he kept thinking these things. He wasn’t supposed to think these things, not about Ginny. He really needed to get a hold of himself before he really stuffed up their friendship. But he knew how she felt. It was hard watching everyone around you find ‘The One’ when you were surrounded by...

Just friends.
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