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SIYE Time:6:15 on 29th March 2024
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I'd Rather Fall in Chocolate
By Kezzabear

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Comedy
Warnings: Negative Alcohol Use
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 421
Summary: Ginny's got a new enemy - she's just not sure who it is ... Harry knows what he wants - he just doesn't know how to get it ...
Hitcount: Story Total: 100602; Chapter Total: 2328
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Thanks to Gin110881 for breaking the block that this chapter held over me! And to all of the people cheering me on and willing me to finish this story even though it's now so unbearably old I'm not sure many people even care ... Still if I am writing it for only three people, then it's worth it. I think ...

Anyway, enjoy ;)




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Ginny’s date bounced off the shield charm Harry had hastily thrown up when he realised the man was heading his way (did he really try and hug him?) Rolf was sprawled on the dancefloor, triumphantly clutching his lizard-like thing. It appeared to be spitting fire (did he have a dragon?) Ginny was staring in shock at both Rolf and her date. She had spilt wine all over Hermione’s wedding (did she have a death wish?) Harry wasn’t sure what to deal with first. Or how to deal with any of it.

Ginny looked as though she were about to curse something. She kept looking from Luna to Rolf and then her date as if she didn’t know which to deal with first either. Harry felt a distinct urge to deal with Ginny’s date. And by ‘deal with’ he meant ‘get rid of’. Harry still couldn’t believe she’d gone and got herself a date. He had big plans to grovel and she had a date.

“Blibbering Humdinger got you?” Luna asked Ginny’s date. What was his name again? Crispin? Colton? The man in question appeared dazed and confused as he struggled to a sitting position on the dance floor, splattered with Ginny’s wine.

“Looks more like Wrackspurts,” Harry muttered, his wand still in his hand, as he eyed Corbin (or Chad?) warily.

“Harry … Potter …” Ginny’s date slumped back onto the floor, eyes glassy. Harry took a step backward and bumped into Charlie who was watching Chase (Colter?) contemplatively.

“I don’t think Harry wants to talk to you,” Luna said, eying the man curiously. The only response to that was a vacant smile that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Gilderoy Lockhart.

“He could not stop talking about you,” George said stepping up behind Harry and clapping him on the right shoulder. Harry looked down at Carver (or Creed?) who was shaking his head as though trying to see clearly. Bill appeared at Harry’s left shoulder, shaking his head.

“Hefty shield charm there, Harry,” he muttered appreciatively.

Just then a spark shot out of the lizard-like thing in Rolf’s hands and landed on a rather large splotch of Ginny’s wine on Carlo’s, (or Crawford’s) navy robes. They went up faster than Hermione casting bluebell flames in a jar and Callum (or Colby?) shrieked. George lazily directed a stream of water at the flames with the tip of his wand and Bill finished the flames off by quickly stepping on the edges of the now singed robes.

“What — how — when …” Ginny trailed off, eyes still swinging from Cary (Cole? Cooper?) to Rolf, to Luna and the terrific mess she herself had made with the wine. She did not look at Harry. Her date did though. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at Harry.

“Where did you pick this bloke up?” Charlie asked Ginny, gesturing at the still smouldering … Clayton? “He’s a real humdinger, this one!” George shook his head.

“I — he — Percy said —”

“He seemed normal!” Percy protested as he came up behind Harry, surveying the chaotic corner of the marquee with slight horror.

“He tried to … I think he tried to hug me!” Harry hissed, glaring at Clark (or Cyrus?) who probably had a considerable head injury and had narrowly escaped being set on fire.

“Not surprising,” Bill said. He looked at Ginny. “He came because he wanted to meet you, Harry.”

“He’s your biggest fan,” George said, smirking. “He told us. There we were, exercising brotherly concern, interrogating our baby sister’s date, and there he was … interrogating us about you.” There was a cracking sound and Harry looked up to see that the wineglass in Ginny’s hand had shattered.

“Well, should we get him some medical attention?” Harry asked weakly. No one moved to do so. A little puff of smoke spiralled up from the navy robes as … Christian? continued staring dazedly at Harry, a crooked smile on his face.

“What are you all doing?” Fleur cried, approaching from the other side of the dancefloor, and surveying the chaotic scene.

“Er, tidying up?” Bill said. It came out like a question. Fleur fixed him with a rather intimidating glare. Bill just shrugged and smiled at her.

“Well, ‘urry up,” Fleur said. She looked at Rolf critically. “I would not ‘ave that thing out when ‘Ermione sees you. She is looking for you, Ginny.”

The lizard-like creature in Rolf’s hands did not want to go quietly. Sparks kept flying off it and Luna was shooting little jets of water at every one of them. The result was rivulets of wine mixed with water spreading across the dancefloor and puffs of smoke rising into the air like a message. Fleur continued to shake her head.

“You ‘ad better clean up this mess before ‘Ermione sees it!” Bill started siphoning up the spilled wine and Luna’s water droplets immediately. Harry thought he heard George mutter ‘Whipped.’

“I think your Firedrake is stressed, dearest.” Luna turned to Rolf, gesturing at the lizard-like creature in his hands as it continued sparking and thrashing about. Rolf stroked the little creature and made shushing noises. This did nothing to stop the little creature from shooting fire. Rolf started patting out the sparks settling onto his robes.

“How’d you get a tame Firedrake?” Charlie asked Rolf admiringly.

“I was back-packing through the Black Forest,” Rolf began, “looking for a Nachtkrapp and there was a whole nest of them. This is the only one that survived. I’ve had him since he was a baby.” Charlie looked suitably impressed.

“But … who?” Ginny was gesturing at Rolf, unable, it seemed, to form full sentences. The Firedrake in his hands kept sparking and a furry nose was sniffing the air from inside Rolf’s pocket.

“This is my Rolf!” Luna exclaimed proudly, turning to Ginny. “Rolf Scamander. He’s a magizoologist and he and I are wonderfully in love. We’ve been hunting Snorkacks! We consummated our love on the mountain peaks of Norway last week.”

“I thought the Crumple-Horned Snorkack was Swedish?” Harry said.

“That’s the bit you question?” George muttered; eyebrow raised. Charlie snorted.

“You and — and Rolf?” Ginny questioned, wide eyes staring at Luna. “He’s your — you’re his — you and he — not you and Harry?”

“Harry and I never consummated our love,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “He is a very good kisser though.” Harry’s face flushed a deep red and he distinctly heard George snicker.

“Oh, er, I meant Harry’s not your — not your, er, date?” Ginny stammered, the tips of her ears going red. Luna smiled and shook her head before stepping forward and peering at the side of Ginny’s head.

“Wrackspurts,” Luna said, shaking her head and she began waving her arms near Ginny’s ears. Ginny just stared at Luna, her bridesmaid’s bouquet dangling from one hand and the stem of the shattered glass clutched in the other.

“So … Harry’s not your date and my date ...” Ginny gestured at … Curtis? “My date is only here to meet this G — er to meet Harry.”

“I have wanted to meet you for so long,” Ginny’s date said fervently. To Harry. “You’re my hero!” George snickered again. Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

“You!” Ginny turned, discarding the broken wineglass on the nearest table and pointing her wand towards Harry and the concussed wizard in navy robes. Harry took another step back. Her wand might be trained on him, not Cory (or Chandler?) and it seemed prudent not to take any chances. He contemplated throwing up another shield charm.

“Now, Ginny —” Bill stopped when Ginny threw him a look so deadly it rivalled a basilisk. Bill returned to siphoning up the wine and water rivulets. Harry contemplated taking another step back. Ginny turned back to Clive (or Clifford?) who was blinking in confusion.

“I think you should leave now,” Ginny said coldly. “I mean it Cannon. I don’t want to see you ever again.” His name was Cannon. Stupid name for a stupid git.

“It was so wonderful to meet you,” Cannon gushed to Harry as George hauled him to his feet. “It’s been a life-long dream. I can’t believe I finally had the chance!” Cannon lurched towards Harry, but Percy grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him away, pushing him out of the marquee and back towards the house. Harry assumed Percy was going to shove him through the Floo but he honestly didn’t care what happened to the man.

“This is such a lovely wedding,” Luna said, watching Percy and Cannon retreat towards the Burrow, “and I am so glad you all have met Rolf.”

“So, how did you two meet?” Bill asked genially, siphoning up the last vestiges of the wine and water combo that had threatened to ruin the dancefloor. The hairy nose that had been poking out of Rolf’s pocket suddenly emerged from the pocket as a small creature that resembled a fluffy slug. It crawled across Rolf’s robes and then sat on the dancefloor, sniffing the air.

“I was in Madagascar, rescuing a Venezuelan Poodle Moth,” Luna said, smiling dreamily at Rolf, or perhaps the little fluffy slug. “Muggles don’t know about them but a wizard from Venezuela smuggled one out of the country on a dodgy Portkey and it ended up in the mountains of Madagascar. And Rolf was there writing about magical pygmy lemurs for the Daily Prophet. I’ve always wanted a lemur.”

Luna kept talking about finding pygmy lemurs and losing poodle moths and hiking with Rolf in the Madagascan jungle while battling pelican spiders which might have been the size of a grain of rice or the size of an actual pelican. Harry could not tell which. Either way it was probably a good thing Ron was not there to listen to the story about the pelican spider, a tree swing, and several native bats. Ginny was listening to Luna, her wand arm still shaking slightly, her complexion slowly returning to normal. She hadn’t looked at Harry at all.

“And then Rolf came and saved me from the enchanted pelican spider and we’ve not spent a moment apart ever since!” Luna finished triumphantly. Harry had very little idea about how she met Rolf. And he wasn’t sure that he particularly cared.

Ginny had stowed her wand and Harry wasn’t exactly sure where she’d put it. Was it in her bouquet or had she somehow secreted it under her dress? Harry kept his eyes on Ginny’s face — he did not want to start wondering where she kept her wand. Cannon was extremely lucky he’d not been leaving with Bat Bogeys all over his face. One slip of the eyes and Harry might be wearing Bat Bogeys all over his face.

“Ron and ‘Ermione are coming!” Fleur suddenly hissed. She’d been checking for errant splotches of wine and hastily banished the cloth she’d conjured. Bill turned around, putting his wand back in his pocket and George straightened his top hat before he and Charlie subtly moved in front of the nearby table which held the broken wineglass. Luna scooped up the fluffy creature that had escaped from Rolf’s pocket, hiding it behind her back, and Rolf scrambled to his feet as the Firedrake scampered up his arm and under his collar. Ginny clutched her bouquet more firmly and Harry ran his fingers through his hair nervously as they all faced Hermione who was rapidly approaching from the entrance to the marquee, trailed by Ron who was carrying a glass that Harry fervently hoped did not contain gin. Harry glanced at his friends, they all looked like nothing so much as a line of naughty children trying to look as innocent as they possibly could.

Hermione was going to eat them alive.

“Where have you two been?” Hermione demanded, waving her bouquet at Harry and then Ginny as she strode across the dancefloor. “It’s time for the first dance and cutting the cake and the toasts!”

“Well, you don’t really need us for all that —”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded. “You have to give one of the toasts!” George snickered again and Harry elbowed him. Hermione narrowed her eyes at them.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said, “I, well, of course, there’s that, erm …” He trailed off.

“Apparently we can’t eat until all this toasting and dancing is done,” Ron said, a trifle mournfully, taking another swig from his glass.

“What are you all doing anyway?” Hermione said, a note of suspicion in her tone as she scanned the line of barely innocent-looking individuals who were studiously avoiding her gaze. Except Luna.

“We were helping Ginny,” she said. Ginny’s beautiful brown eyes widened.

“With what?” Hermione asked, her own eyes narrowing.

“Who cares,” Ron interrupted. He waved his glass at Harry. “It’s our wedding! Hey, Harry have you ever had any of this lemonade stuff? How do the Muggles get the bubbles in there?” Harry didn’t know so he shrugged. He was just glad people had stopped giving Ron alcohol on an empty stomach.

“Well, whatever you’re doing,” Hermione said, eyeing George suspiciously, “I expect to see you all on the dance floor for the first dance in five minutes — starting with you two!” She waved her bouquet at Harry and Ginny again before retreating to the other side of the dancefloor, throwing one last suspicious glance in their direction.

“I’d better … yeah,” Ron raised his lemonade glass in salute and headed after Hermione with a grin.

“You two had better go and dance,” Luna said, handing the fluffy slug back to Rolf who promptly put it back in his pocket. “Hermione can be very cross if you ignore her. It’s a good thing your date has gone, Ginny. Now you can finally be with Harry.”

“I don’t — I didn’t — that’s …” Ginny spluttered.

“Did you know that you love him?” Luna asked curiously. “I thought you did, but perhaps I have been mistaken?” And with that she skipped across the dancefloor, Rolf hurrying in her wake.

George snickered. Harry elbowed him in the ribs harder this time. Ginny’s eyes were as wide as saucers and she studiously avoided Harry’s gaze, staring after Luna, a vivid blush creeping up her cheeks.

“What ‘as ‘appened to your date, Ginny?” Fleur asked, obviously deciding to ignore the massive elephant in the room. Harry elbowed George in the ribs before he had the chance to snicker again. George looked at Harry, wounded, and stuck out his tongue.

“He … went home,” Ginny said in a measured tone. “He was not … suitable.”

“I can’t believe you managed to get that nightmare of a date all by yourself!” George exclaimed. “We didn’t even help you!” Ginny’s eyes seemed to flash dangerously, narrowing suspiciously.

“What do you mean?” she questioned in a voice so quiet it was scary. “How have you been … helping me before?” Harry almost felt sorry for Bill, Charlie and George.

“We should go and get Victoire,” Bill said hastily. “Come on Fleur.”

“She ees fi —”

“Well we’d better check, she’s only little,” Bill said, grabbing Fleur’s elbow and hurrying her away.

“I really must ask Rolf abut his Firedrake,” Charlie said, and he strode purposely across the dancefloor after Rolf and Luna. Ginny was still eyeing George with that special stare she reserved for turning your insides to ice.

“What. Have. You Done?”

“Nothing Gin-Gin,” George said as innocently as he possibly could. Which wasn’t very.

“Don’t call me that,” Ginny ground out, advancing towards George who suddenly looked afraid. Harry would have felt sorry for him — if he wasn’t so relieved she wasn’t looking at him like that. And advancing on him like that. And waving her wand at him like that. Where had she pulled that from?!?!

“We — well — you’re our only baby sister and — well …” George trailed off. He clearly sensed the danger. Ginny’s brown eyes flashed dangerously.

“Ginny, we should go,” Harry gestured towards the dancefloor, “we have, erm, duties to attend to.” She glared at him mutinously but appeared to acknowledge the truth of his words, two spots of colour still high on her cheekbones, her eyes not quite meeting his own. Harry glanced at Ron who was still drinking lemonade and staring longingly at his dinner plate.

“I’m not finished with you,” Ginny said quietly to George as Harry took her elbow and tugged her across the dancefloor towards Ron and Hermione.

Harry, arriving in front of Ron and Hermione, gulped and took the lemonade Ron silently offered him. This could be the singular worst moment of his life — next to that time Voldemort had used his blood to raise himself from the dead. He could barely dance, had forgotten he was supposed to do so in front of people, and he had to do it with Ginny Weasley who continued to look at him as if he were still Undesirable Number 1.

“Listen, mate,” Ron said quietly as Ginny fussed with Hermione’s veil and arranged their bouquets ‘just so’ on the bridal table. “I think you should, you know, tell Ginny how you feel.”

“How I feel?” Harry echoed dumbly, staring at his best mate.

“You love her,” Ron said simply, draining the last of his lemonade. Harry stared at him.

“Yes,” Harry allowed eventually, scarcely believing he was telling Ron of all people. And suddenly it all came spilling out. “I just — I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s so beautiful, her hair is like fire. She loves a laugh and a good prank and she’s the best Quidditch player. I could watch her fly all day, it’s like she’s one with the broom! She’s honest and funny and smart and sexy —”

“Whoa, whoa,” Ron held up his hand. “I think we’ve gone as far as we can here. My sister is not sexy.”

“Oh yes she is.” Harry grinned and Ron grimaced.

“Maybe you should be telling her all this then,” Ron said. Harry sighed, staring at his lemonade, watching the little bubbles float to the top and burst.

“Yes, well despite what Luna says,” Harry said, looking up at Ron, “I’m pretty sure she isn’t interested, mate.” Ron just rolled his eyes and Harry downed the last of his lemonade as Bill called for everyone’s attention.

Soon enough, Ron and Hermione were dancing slowly to a Celestina Warbeck number in the middle of the dancefloor while the guests applauded the new Mr and Mrs Granger-Weasley. At Bill’s signal, he and Ginny were to join them on the dancefloor. Harry glanced at her. She was biting her lip while watching Ron and Hermione slowly revolve on the dancefloor. She looked irresistibly beautiful. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, hold her close and feel her pulse beat under his lips. He wanted to get lost in her beautiful brown eyes and trail kisses across her cheeks.

Harry felt someone poke him in the back and turned around to see George gesturing towards the dancefloor. He looked up at Bill who was glaring at him and jerking a thumb towards Ron and Hermione.

Right.

He had to dance with Ginny.

Out there.

On the dancefloor.

Taking a deep breath, Harry fumbled for Ginny’s hand and, taking it in his, led her out to the middle of the dancefloor. The top of Ginny’s head barely reached his shoulders and at first he found himself staring over the top of her head as they shuffled around the mostly empty dancefloor, Celestina Warbeck still singing about love and roses and spring gardens. Ron was looking down at Hermione as he held her close, smiling. Harry swallowed heavily, summoning some courage from somewhere deep inside himself.

“You do look beautiful today,” Harry said quietly, looking down at Ginny’s curls. He felt her fingers twitch in his as he resisted the urge to pull her closer. She didn’t say anything. Harry wished he were a better dancer. A few more couples joined them on the dancefloor, Bill inviting family members to find a partner. The music changed, this time to a romantic melody about falling and flying and becoming one. Suddenly Ginny spoke.

“I was mad at you,” she said quietly, staring at his shirt. “I thought you dumped Luna and broke her heart.” Harry drew back a little, trying to see her face.

“In sixth year?” he asked in surprise. Ginny nodded.

“You ignored her,” she almost whispered. “You ignored us.” Harry thought about this as he continued to shuffle around the dancefloor, giving into the urge to pull Ginny closer. His hand tightened on her waist and she resisted for only a moment. Harry slid his arm further around her, his fingers grazing the warm skin of her back where her dress dipped almost to her waist.

“I had … I had things to do,” Harry breathed, willing her to look up at him. “I’m not ignoring you now.” Ginny shifted slightly in his arms, her hand clutching his bicep and her knee bumping his. Harry pulled her closer so that she was pressed against him. It felt almost like fire where they touched, and Ginny shivered as his fingers danced along her back. He pulled her other hand close, resting their clasped hands against his heart which was beating madly. Harry slowed right down, barely moving on the dancefloor as she took in a big, shuddering breath and looked up at him. Her chocolate brown eyes searched his for a long time. Harry held his breath.

“No,” she whispered. “You’re not ignoring me now.”

And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that over a hundred people were watching, Harry kissed her.
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