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Adventures of the Heart | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 71 Summary: A book that contains the chapters that the Deathly Hallows could have had between the defeat of Voldemort and the chapter "19 Years Later". It focuses mainly on the developing relationship between Harry and Ginny, and shows how everybody finally manages to go back to leading a normal life. Hitcount: Story Total: 36254; Chapter Total: 4450 |
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Soft snoring filled the usually quiet room in Grimauld Place that was now the master bedroom. Feeling that he had not relieved all the tension that he had hoped to release by taking the walk he was now returning from, Harry made an effort to be quiet while shutting the door, then sat down on a large, ornate chair next to the bed. The ugly wooden thing, decorated with the carved and silvered serpents that still permeated the entire house, served as a place to dump his clothes when he did not feel like hanging them neatly where they were supposed to hang. He hoped Ginny would not make him give up that habit when she officially moved in with him after the wedding. Sitting silently in the near-dark, he watched the familiar redhead on the far side of his bed. The gears in his head had not wanted to stop turning all night, and he would expect Ginny to have similar issues. Directing a burning glare at the mop of red hair that peeked from under the blankets, he silently swore. "You just sleep, Weasley," he grumbled quietly, cursing the slow and easy breathing that he found himself unable to master tonight. "When I'm best man at your wedding, I'll come and sleep in your bed and keep you away from Hermione. See how you like that." As if in response to his grumblings, though he would not have been sure that they had been uttered aloud at all, his best man stirred. The two men sat stating at each other for a few seconds, before Ron finally broke the silence. "Can't sleep, can you?" Harry responded with a blank stare that would have impressed his fiancée. "Can't say that I blame you," Ron continued, obviously determined to ignore Harry's chagrin, "I mean, you're tying the knot in what, twelve hours?" Harry checked his watch again, though he could have told Ron that the wedding ceremony would begin in thirteen hours, fourteen minutes, and somewhere around nine seconds. "Firewhiskey didn't help then?" Harry still did not respond. He had just returned from a long walk, having been sorely tempted to just Apparate to the Burrow and sneak into Ginny's bed. They were still waiting for their wedding night, but there was a comfort in her arms that he missed sorely while Ron occupied the empty half of his bed. Much though he felt he needed her, he really had not wanted to jinx the wedding by spending the night with her. He also suspected that the wedding would not be the only thing that might be on the receiving end of a jinx if he tried to sneak into Ginny's room tonight. Ron might be in his bed, but Hermione was providing the same service for Ginny. "Look, mate, you're supposed to sleep separately on the night before your wedding. It's tradition." The only reply Harry felt like giving to that was a grunt. Ron seemed to take this as progress, as he sat up and moved a bit closer. "I don't like being in your bed either, if it's any comfort." Ron's look turned rueful. "I'd rather spend the night with 'Mione." Harry could not contain the sigh any longer, and it forced its way out of him. "It's not that," he said, after Ron had tactfully - and quite uncharacteristically - remained silent to let him gather his thoughts. "I can't even really put a finger on why I can't sleep. I mean..." There was a moment of silence as he sought for the right words. "...I'm getting married tomorrow, Ron. Married, for Merlin's sake. The past year's been wonderful, but I just still can't get it together in my head that life's normal now, and I get to do normal stuff like everyone else. Remember where we were around now two years ago?" "In a tent in some forest or the other, I think," Ron chuckled. "You're gonna to have to accept it sometime though, and it'd better be somewhere in the next twelve hours. Do you plan on getting any sleep tonight?" "Calming draught's the only thing that'll help me do that tonight," Harry grumbled, then got up off the chair and moved to the door. "Go back to sleep. I've just decided what I can do to ease my mind a bit, and I need to do it alone." Rather unexpectedly, Ron bounded off the bed and picked up his robe. "You're not going anywhere without me, mate," he said seriously. "If you decide to go to the Burrow, Hermione'll jinx your bits off. You know what the tradition of best man used to be for, right?" Momentarily struck dumb both by Ron's unexpected offer to join him and by the question, Harry realized that he did not, in fact, know where the tradition of best man came from. Noting that Ron was pulling on robes, he decided that taking along his best friend would not be a bad idea. "Dress muggle," he said, and suddenly overcome with curiosity, he could not contain the question. "What was the best man for then, before it was just sort of a ceremonial position?" "Hermione made me read all about it," Ron grumbled while pulling off his robes and reaching for the jeans and sweater on the chair on the other side of the bed, "wanted me to know what I was getting into, and how important it was. Muggle best men don't spend the night before the wedding with the groom, did you know that?" Harry had not even known that Wizards had this tradition until several days ago, and muttered as much. Ron grunted from inside his Weasley jumper. "Well anyway, me spending the night here with you is supposed to keep you out of trouble." Ron continued to talk while they made their way down the stairs and into the hall. "Wizards decided not to drop that part of the role of the best man, 'cause, well, you know, we can get into a lot more trouble in less time than Muggles." Harry grinned at that. His life in the Wizarding world so far had taught him that much. "Now in ancient times, and I mean really long ago, as far back as before the International Statute of Secrecy, there were these people called the Goths, and they sometimes needed to find a bride outside their village." Harry drew up an eyebrow at this. Ron really had made a study of what it meant to be a best man. He was also starting to sound like Hermione in a way that was rather disconcerting. Still, he did not want to interrupt his friend. "The brides of that time weren't always eager to go with the grooms, mind you, so the groom would make sure he had a friend with him when he went to kidnap his bride." Harry stopped in the middle of walking out the front door, causing Ron to bump into him from behind. "Wait," Harry blurted out incredulously, "you mean you're supposed to help me kidnap a bride?" "Well, that's what it started as," Ron said, shrugging, "but it goes further than that. You see, the bride's family wouldn't always agree with the wedding plans, so they'd send people to come and fetch her back, yeah? So the best man's job would be to keep the groom safe in case of an attack. It used to be that I'd have to carry a sword and everything." "So you're my bodyguard then," Harry mused aloud, earning himself a wide grin from his best man. They made their way outside and Harry closed the door behind him. "Where are we going?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry realized that he had not told his friend what he intended to do. "Godric's Hollow." Ron just nodded and grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder. Belatedly, Harry realized that Ron had not been with them when he and Hermione had gone there during the Horcrux hunt, and he spun on the spot, pulling Ron with him. A short, uncomfortable moment later, they stood in front of the gate of the cemetary at Godric's Hollow. Ron released his shoulder, and Harry gave him a shaky smile as he indicated the village. "Welcome to the place where it all started for me," he murmured, "If you'd like to see proof, there's a statue of me over there." A shake of the head indicated that Ron did not need to see the statue. "You want to visit your parents' grave?" Harry nodded, then opened the gate and went inside without another word. Ron followed, but at a distance, seeming not to want to intrude. There was no need to search this time. He remembered exactly where the headstone was, and soon found himself facing the engraved white marble. More than a year ago, he had decided not to go back for the Resurrection Stone. Now he suddenly found himself wishing he had it again. The marble was cold and still, and even though the place had a certain air of tranquility about it, this visit was not yet bringing him the peace of mind he had hoped to find. Silently he stood, gazing at the grave, until it occurred to him why he had decided to come here in the first place. He wanted to talk to his parents. Lacking any other physical manifestations of them, he decided that the headstone would have to do. Lowering himself to his knees, he found a comfortable position and glanced around, finding Ron outside casual hearing distance. He seemed to be studying the graves a while off, but Harry knew his friend well enough to understand that he was trying to give him a bit of privacy. "Hi mum," he finally mumbled to the headstone. It did not respond, but he persevered. "Hi dad. I know it's a bit lame, me talking to your grave as if you're here and not, you know, wherever it is you are now, but I just needed to talk to you." Despite the balmy summer air, he shivered slightly. "I'm getting married in the morning. I'm marrying the girl I love, and it's going to be a little ceremony, just close family and friends, you know. I wish you could be here for it. I wish you could have been here for all of my life. 'Course I know it's stupid to wish for that, but I just wanted you to know that even though I never really got the chance to know you, I miss you." Harry cleared his throat, then took a deep breath, and said what he had really come to say. "I just want you to know that I love you. I understand what love means now. Even though I've always been capable of it, I've only just realized how many kinds of love there are, and how it's really the same, all of it. I hope you'll be there at the wedding tomorrow, even though I won't get to see you. I hope you're proud of me." With some effort, as he had never mastered conjuring spells as well as Hermione had, he managed to conjure two white roses, which he arranged neatly on the marble slab that sealed the grave. He then rose and went to rejoin Ron. "Alright?" Ron's stance was relaxed as he stood waiting for Harry. "Alright." Harry's gaze met Ron's, and they stood watching each other silently for a few seconds. Then Harry nodded, and without speaking, they Apparated back to Grimauld Place. Half an hour, a glass of Firewhiskey and only a few short bits of conversation later, Harry's head finally hit the pillow again. Another hour spent awake later, he let out a sigh. "Having second thoughts?" Ron's voice startled Harry, as he had not been aware that his friend was not asleep. Still, he knew the correct answer to that question. "No, not at all." "Sure?" "Yeah." It occurred to Harry that serious conversations about feelings between himself and Ron had a tendency to get rutted in one-syllable sentences. He resolved to change that. "I'm a bit scared though," he admitted, and was rewarded by a chuckle from the other side of the bed. "Can't say I blame you, mate," Ron said encouragingly, propping himself up on an elbow and regarding Harry seriously, "This being a life-long commitment your getting yourself into and all." "That's not it at all," Harry said, realizing the truth of the statement while he said it, and finally realizing what the problem was that was keeping him awake. "It's just that so much is changing all of a sudden. We're not in school anymore. I'm going to be a married man in less than a day, and then Ginny and I will be off on our honeymoon. When we get back, the four of us are going traveling. That'll be something familiar, you know, but after that, we'll all go and have our careers. It's all changing. We're all going to have a lot less time to spend together." There was a silence as Ron considered this. "Are you scared that we'll drift apart? You, me and Hermione, I mean." "I guess I am." "Nah." "Huh?" There it was again, mused Harry, one-syllable sentences. Ron surprised him, however. "Just 'cause you're married and we all get jobs, that doesn't mean we won't have time to spend together. We've been through too much together for that. Besides, mum'll kill Ginny if she never comes to dinner at the Burrow, and I'll expect you to be best man at my wedding sometime in the near future." "Thinking of asking Hermione, are you?" Harry asked, chuckling, expecting to lighten the mood a bit. Ron's response was, however, unexpectedly serious. "Yeah, I was hoping to ask her tomorrow actually." Harry sat up and looked his friend in the eye, at least as much as the little light in the room allowed. Not finding any visible trace of guile on his best man's face, he felt a sense of wonder steal over him. "You're serious, aren't you?" He heard the surprised tone, but Ron just answered with a slight smile. "What," he asked, "did you think you were keeping me awake? I'm as nervous as you are, mate." "So you've got a ring and everything then?" "Yeah, want to see it?" Ron suddenly seemed full of energy as he bounded off the bed and pulled a small box from an inner pocket of his robes. He opened it, and, lighting his wand to get a better look, Harry saw a simple golden band, delicately engraved with what appeared to be tiny leaves and flowers. "She'll love this, mate," Harry said emphatically, but Ron looked dubious. "Are you sure? It's the best I could afford." Harry regarded his friend with what he though was probably a quizzical look. "You think Hermione expects a huge diamond?" Ron looked pained for a moment. "I just don't want to disappoint her, mate. I mean..." There was a short silence as Ron seemed to order his thoughts. "She means the world to me, and all I can afford to give her to show her that, is this ring." "Worried it's not going to get the message across?" "Yeah." "Don't." "What ?" "Worry." "Why?" "Because that's not how Hermione works, and you know it." Ron sighed, but remained silent. "What she's going to see isn't what that ring cost in money, mate," Harry said, "she'll see that you've put a lot of effort into finding a ring that suits her. She's also going to see how sincere you are. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised at all if she burst into tears when you ask her, even before she sees the ring." Ron looked hopeful at that, but did not speak. "You really did put a lot of effort into finding that ring, didn't you?" "Yeah, I did. Must've been to every jewelry in Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Finally found this one in a tiny little muggle shop, and it sort of had her name written all over it, you know?" "Yeah, I know what you mean." Harry smiled at his friend. "She'll love it, mate. Good for you." Ron put the ring away and punched his pillow into shape. There was a long silence after they both put their heads down again. "D'ye think either of us'll get any sleep tonight?" Ron finally asked ruefully as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains. "Nah," said Harry, who had been lying in the dark silently, lost in thought. "Let's just get up and brew something that'll keep us awake all day." Ron barked a laugh. An hour later the two friends were showered, dressed, and enjoying one of Kreacher's famous breakfasts. Having given up trying to make some kind of potion for fear of accidentally turning himself green on his wedding day, Harry had decided on a large mug of steaming coffee to help him through the day. It, combined with the hot breakfast, served to relax and revive him more than the attempted night's sleep had. When they were comfortably full and sipping their third mugs of strong black coffee, Ron looked Harry in the eye. "You're looking a lot less tense." Harry realized that he felt less tense, and on examination, so did Ron. He said as much to his friend, who nodded and checked his watch. Ron stood up, and Harry frowned. "It is my duty as Best Man to inform you," Ron began in a hilarious immitation of Percy's prefect voice, "that you are expected at the Burrow in exactly an hour and a half. I have a checklist here..." With a flourish, Ron conjured up a roll of parchment, unrolled it, and then continued. "...that I am required to use, so that you and I do not show up there without certain having performed certain very important actions." Harry laughed at what was obviously another of Hermione's ways to ensure that Ron did his job as best man well. "For starters," Ron continued in his most pompous voice, "you are to get your behind up to the bathroom and remove all that stubble from your face. In the meanwhile, I shall ensure that your dress robes are ready for you to put on, and..." Kreacher appeared out of thin air with a loud crack, and before Ron could react, grabbed the parchment. "Kreacher will take care of the logistics, Master," the house elf said to Harry's delight and Ron's spluttered disapproval. In the end, Kreacher was able to convince Ron that such matters as preparing dress robes and ensuring that all important items were packed, should be left to the more capable hands of the elf, and the two friends found themselves in the bathroom employing razors. Harry's enchanted one flicked expertly over his face, never missing a hair, while Ron manually scratched his face free of the red stubble that had formed there during the night. "So," Ron began in his most casual voice while scratching away at his face with his razor, "are you looking forward to the wedding night?" Harry's head turned so sharply that he almost impaled his cheek on the enchanted razor. Fortunately, it was enchanted enough to dodge out of the way, though it wobbled disapprovingly before resuming its task. "You did NOT just ask me that," Harry exclaimed. Ron grinned at him. "Yeah, I did." "I thought you didn't want to know what I did with your sister." "Well, it's no secret that you're waiting for your wedding night. Can't say I agree with the wisdom in that, but then again, you don't know what you're missing yet, do you?" Ron had the cheek to wink at him though the mirror. "If you must know, I am looking forward to it," Harry said, trying not to upset the razor further by moving around too much, "but I'm also really nervous about it." "Don't be," Ron said seriously, "You'll know what to do, don't worry." Through the mirror, Harry frowned at his friend as if he was seeing him for the first time. The razor gave his cheek a final brush and then proceeded to clean itself before settling down on its accustomed place near the mirror. "When did you grow up all of a sudden?" Ron grinned at him. "Don't tell anyone, I'm trying to keep my reputation intact as long as I can." Patting the remaining foam off his face with a fluffy white towel, Ron examined his face in the mirror, then turned back to Harry. "Seriously, I think 'Mione's rubbing off on me." "Better marry her quickly then, before it gets any worse." "Prat." "Git." When they were finally secure in their dress robes, Kreacher having expertly laundered and pressed them until not a speck of dust showed on the formal black robe that Harry now wore, Ron insisted on running through the checklist twice to ensure that they did not forget anything. Having ensured that nothing was missing, Harry turned to Kreacher. "Do remember what we agreed upon, will you Kreacher?" Kreacher looked sheepish. "Kreacher will attempt not to serve any of the guest at Master's party, Master." Harry sighed. "Kreacher," he started in his most diplomatic tone, "you're a guest at our party, not a servant, because you're important to us. Just try to have a good time, alright?" "Yes, Master," croaked Kreacher, and Harry gave up on trying to entice the house elf into unwinding. "Shall we be off then?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. His friend nodded, and they stepped out of the door. "Have you got the ring?" Ron looked confused for a moment, then patted the slight bulge in his dress robes that contained the engagement ring. "Yeah." The tips of Ron's ears turned slightly pink, and Harry winked at him just before vanishing with a loud pop. |
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