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SIYE Time:18:48 on 28th March 2024
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One Golden Day
By seafrost

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Humor, General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 13
Summary: My version of Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3483







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One Golden Day:



Harry Potter slumped back in his seat and watched as Bill kissed Fleur under an archway in the back garden of the Burrow. Although six seats away, he could hear Mrs Weasley’s noisy sobs as Bill then took Fleur’s hand and walked up the gap between the two rows of wooden seats, the rest of the wedding party following. Ginny, dressed in golden bridesmaid’s robes, did not miss the opportunity to scowl thoroughly at him as she passed, Gabrielle trailing prettily behind her.

Beside him Hermione, who had become suspiciously misty-eyed whilst watching the ceremony, stood up and stretched. Ron followed her cue, rubbing his stomach and looking expectantly at the groaning tables of food on the opposite side of the garden.

Harry, Ron and Hermione chose a small table near the back and filled up their plates thoroughly before settling in. Hermione quickly began to quiz a clueless Ron on the differences between Muggle and Magic wedding ceremonies. Harry could not help but look over at the table next to theirs, at which Fred, George, Ginny and Charlie were sitting.

“I’m sure if you just talked to Ginny, you could sort it out.” Hermione said suddenly, watching him perceptively.

Harry scowled into his mashed potato.

“I don‘t want to talk to her,” he answered stubbornly, “she’s mad at me.”

There was too much truth in this to be denied, and Hermione sighed. When she next spoke, it was as though she had chosen her words very carefully. “But it was a bit of a shock for her, to find out you’re not going back to Hogwarts.”

Harry made a non-committal noise, and Hermione went back to her conversation with Ron. He supposed that there was more than a little truth in Hermione’s reasoning, but he did not understand why she was so mad at just him as opposed to Ron and Hermione as well.

At first, it seemed as though things were going to be okay between Harry and Ginny following Dumbledore’s funeral. When Harry visited the Burrow, it had at first been very awkward, but he had taken his cue from Ginny, who seemed unruffled by the change in their relationship, and had treated him as a friend. This had continued throughout his two further visits.

It was on the fourth visit, when Ginny learned that he, Ron and Hermione were not going back to Hogwarts, that she had become angry. She had cornered him in the kitchen after they had cleared away the dinner things and demanded to know if this was the stupid, noble reason that he had broken up with her for. When he did not answer (what answer was there?), she had proceeded to berate him for taking on such a responsibility and chide him for not even telling her his plans. Harry had a feeling she would have liked to hex him, but the arrival of Mrs Weasley, who looked awkwardly between them, stopped her. Ginny had stalked out of the room and not spoken more than two words to him since then, and they had been “no thanks” when he asked if she wanted to play Quidditch the following week.

The truth was, Ginny’s anger was making him more miserable than he liked to admit. He knew he had made the right decision, but had hoped they could at least be friends.

After dinner, there was dancing. Harry stood to one side with Ron, who was watching Hermione dance with an exuberant Fred. The only good thing about the summer so far was that Ron and Hermione had patched up their differences. Hermione no longer referred to Ron as “Won Won” and Ron refrained from mentioning McClaggen in Hermione’s presence.

“Any more luck with R.A.B?” Ron asked in an undertone.

Harry shook his head. The three of them agreed that deciphering who R.A.B was would be the best way to start their search for the Horcruxes, but it was proving difficult. Harry hoped that whoever he had been, R.A.B had known of the existence and whereabouts of the others.

“Harry dear,” Mrs Weasley said suddenly, approaching them, “would you mind doing me a favour? I was in such a hurry this morning I forgot to wrap Bill and Fleur’s gift,” she paused, looking over at Bill and swiping her eyes, “would you mind wrapping it and bringing it out. I’m sure Ginny will help.”

At this point Ginny, who was near them and who was clearly listening frowned at her mother.

“Mum,” she began to protest, but Mrs Weasley cut her off.

“Now, now Ginny dear, I’ve put a lot of effort into that present, the least you could do is help Harry wrap it.”

And without further ado, she pushed them both in the general direction of the Burrow. Ron shot him a sympathetic glance, and as he looked back, Harry could have sworn he saw a twinkle not unlike Dumbledore’s in Mrs Weasley’s eyes.

****

With everyone outside, it was eerily quiet in the Burrow. Ginny walked a few paces in front of him into the living room, only pausing to seize some silver wrapping paper and ribbon forcefully from a chest of drawers. She then picked up the present, a hand-made photo album that was half full of pictures of the various Weasleys, and then blank for Bill and Fleur to add their own family pictures, and sat down on the floor.

Harry stood in front of her, hands thrust in his pockets awkwardly, not sure what to do. He did not know how to deal with silence from Ginny, who he had come to associate with laughter and comfort, and his stomach squirmed guiltily.

“Look,” he said abruptly, feeling as if the silence had gone on too long, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about not going back to Hogwarts.”

Ginny looked up and pushed a strand of bright hair behind one ear, startled. Still she did not say anything, and Harry felt a need to make himself understood. He did not want to go off with her mad at him.

“I just,” he started, and stopped abruptly, trying to find the right words, “I just didn’t want to ruin us being friends.”

The tone of his voice betrayed him and Ginny moved over so he could sit on the floor next to her. To give his hands something to do, Harry picked up the photo album and looked down at a toddler version of Ron, who was grinning happily through copious amounts of ice-cream on his face. A young Bill was laughing at him and Harry could just make out a tiny Ginny in the background, her red hair flying out wildly around her.

He looked up and saw that Ginny had been watching him. She seemed to be struggling with something internally, and then looked into his face, resolved.

“I suppose I was disappointed,” she said at last, “that you didn’t tell me something as important as that.”

There was a silence, in which Ginny opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“It was like I didn’t matter. And Harry, I would have wanted to come; I’ve got as much reason to want to track down Voldemort as you have, more than either Ron or Hermione’s got!” She paused for breath, pink spots appearing on the apples of her cheeks, and finished emphatically, “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you!” Harry insisted loudly, the guilty squirming in his stomach intensifying. Apart from in the Chamber of Secrets, he had never seen Ginny upset; she was always joking and laughing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finished lamely.

It had been so easy to confess how much he liked her at Dumbledore’s funeral, but it was more difficult now. Ginny’s words back then had been playing in his head like a scratched record all summer. ‘I never really gave up on you.’ ‘I really like you.’

Sighing, he looked her in the eye, and willed her to understand him. He couldn’t bear it if she got hurt because of him.

Ginny looked back at him, and he could tell from her fierce brown gaze that although she did not like what she saw, she understood. And then, unexpectedly, she closed the gap between them and kissed him firmly on the lips. His hands came up to automatically go to her waist, but he willed them back with effort and broke away.

“I understand,” Ginny said angrily, “why you won’t let me come, even though I could help you a lot and I think you’re making a big mistake, and I understand why you think we shouldn’t be going out, but I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself be happy when you have the chance!”

Her eyes were flashing at him now, and Arnold the Pygmy Puff had appeared out of nowhere to settle on Ginny’s shoulder. It too was looking at him through narrowed eyes. Harry didn’t know what to say to make things better, he wanted to kiss her and pretend that he wasn’t going to go away and fight so much, but he knew it would only make it worse when he had to leave.

Ginny no longer looked angry, but sad, and it was this that made him open his mouth.

“It’s because I really like you,” he said at last, settling for honesty, “I don’t want to make it harder when I have to leave.”

“If you think I’m going to just sit at home quietly and wait for you to come back you’ve got another thing coming,” replied Ginny, who had perked up a bit after his last statement, and was looking at him stubbornly. “I meant what I said, I’ve got as much reason as you to want to track down Voldemort.”

Harry nodded. She leaned in to kiss him again, and this time he let his hands settle comfortably on her waist. When they pulled apart, Arnold was perching contentedly on his shoulder, his purple fluff tickling Harry’s neck.

“Harry,” Ginny said earnestly, “let’s just be happy today whilst we can. If Bill and Fleur can get married so quick, we can at least have a good snog.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her.

This time, it was him who closed the small gap between them

***

The End.
Reviews 13
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