FIC: "the Surprise Party" by r_becca
To: dukebrymin
Title: the Surprise Party
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny (with supporting Weasley brothers)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2100 words
Summary: With Harry's name in all the gossip columns, how will he and Ginny ever manage a wedding without a thousand reporters present?
Author's Notes: For dukebrymin, who requested a secret wedding or elopement, Harry and Ginny keeping their relationship a secret, wizarding photographs, and nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to magglenagall for beta-reading, and to ixtoh for reasons that should be obvious to her.
----------
Harry rolled over in bed and rubbed his eyes. Bright morning sunshine was streaming through the open windows of his bedroom. Outside, birds were singing, Muggles were driving, and...
"Bugger." He reached for the bedside table and fumbled around. His glasses clattered to the floor, and he swore again. Once he'd grabbed his wand, he aimed it at the open window, squinting against the blurry sunlight as he did so. "Claudo," he commanded loudly, and the window-sashes slid shut with a loud bang, the curtains closed with a swish, and Harry fell back against the sheets with a groan.
He'd closed those windows and secured them with spells and wards before he went to bed. He was sure of it. "Bloody Romilda Vane," he muttered in the direction of the blurry ceiling.
----------
one day later...
Sure enough, the next morning the Daily Prophet's back page was splashed with a grainy picture of Harry asleep in his bed. He was sprawled facedown on the left side of the bed, with one foot sticking out from the bottom of the duvet and one arm stretched out across the other side of the bed, which was empty. The headline screamed 'WHO'S SLEEPING WITH HARRY?' and the author of the piece, one Romilda Vane, had helpfully suggested a number of well-known witches and wizards (two singers, three Quidditch players, and a WWN presenter) to fill the void. They'd even spelled the photo so that it looked as though there were a shapely woman in the bed next to him, and the image of her face kept changing, from one of their 'likely candidates' to the next.
Harry threw the newspaper down on the floor in disgust. He'd never liked the wizard press, but photographing him in his sleep was farther than he'd expected them to ever go. Although, Harry supposed, he shouldn't have been too surprised: Romilda's articles had been getting progressively bolder since she'd followed him to Brighton Beach last month and the Prophet had published a bestselling issue including a photo of his bare chest.
The fireplace flared up in a burst of green flame and Ginny stepped through. "Morning," she said brightly, brushing ash off her clothes.
She gave Harry a kiss on the cheek, her lips soft and dry, and then peered down at the paper on the floor, tilting her head to one side so she could read the headlines. "Wow, they photographed you in bed?" she asked, then kept talking as though she didn't really expect an answer. "Cut right to the heart of the matter."
Harry rested his elbows on the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands. "I can't live like this," he said.
Ginny ruffled his hair with one hand, then sat down next to him and took a sip of his tea. "Cheer up," she said. "It could be worse."
"They could have photographed me on the toilet?"
"They could find out about us."
Harry shuddered. "Could you imagine if Romilda found out about the wedding?"
"Or the wedding night," Ginny suggested, elbowing him in the side.
Harry looked up at her. "You think this is funny," he said, narrowing his eyes. Ginny grinned back at him cheekily and denied nothing. "It's just a big joke to you that I can't even sleep in my own bed without the Prophet splattering it across the back page. You won't think it's so funny when we're married and there're photos of you that turn up in the paper every day."
Ginny just shrugged. "Eh, I am attracteeve enough for ze both of us," she said, mimicking Fleur's voice perfectly.
"So you're not worried about the wedding?" Harry asked, incredulous. Hermione had put so much care and worry into her wedding plans that her hair had started to turn grey. Harry knew that Ginny and Hermione were far from the same witch, but he'd expected more than this casual dismissal.
"I'm absolutely certain that she'll find out about it, so I don't see any use in worrying," Ginny explained. "We can't keep this a secret from Romilda forever; we'll have to invite half of Britain to the wedding, and one of them is bound to let it slip."
"Maybe..." said Harry. "Maybe we could sneak away and get married in secret, with just your family there."
"My family is two dozen people," Ginny said flatly. "We can't just sneak them all off somewhere."
"All right, true. So--" Harry had been going to say that they were stuck with a big wedding and a big guest list, that would undoubtedly cause a big crowd of photographers to follow them around for a month beforehand, but Ginny interrupted him.
"--I do like the idea of a small wedding, without all the cameras," she said.
"You do? But what about all that--" Harry waved his hands around, trying to indicate all those details that Hermione had been so hung up on.
"You know I don't care about all that--" Ginny said, repeating his exact hand motion back to him. It looked much more ridiculous than he'd imagined. "But Mum would be so upset if we eloped and she didn't even know about it."
"Huh," said Harry, an idea half-formed in his mind. "Maybe we can figure something out."
----------
two weeks later...
Ron stepped through the Floo into the small house that Harry was renting in Hogsmeade, precisely at seven o'clock. Harry's housewarming party that night wasn't meant to start until eight, but he had firmly insisted, in a strange and un-Harry-like way, that Ron show up a full hour early. The house was fairly sparkling with cleanliness, another thing that was rather unlike Harry.
"Harry?" Ron called loudly, walking into the kitchen. "Mate? Are you here?"
He looked around, but saw no one. Shrugging, he opened the icebox and took out a beer, opened it and took a sip. He sat down at the kitchen table to wait for Harry to get back, and it was only then that he noticed the parchment sitting in the middle of the table, marked with his own name in Harry's messy handwriting. He opened it and read.
Ron,
I'm going to have to be a little late to the party tonight. Can you get things started without me? I bought plenty of drinks, and Kreacher will Floo over with the food. Just put on some music and let the guests in.
Thanks, Mate. I owe you one.
Harry
"Too right you owe me one," Ron said out loud to the empty kitchen, and took another drink of his beer. No wonder Harry had been so strange about the time that Ron arrived at the house. He'd obviously been planning this all along. What Ron couldn't figure out was the secrecy. If Harry'd intended to skip the beginning of his own party, he could've just said something. Couldn't he?
----------
two hours later...
"Mmmph, these things are amazing, whatever they are." Charlie scooped up another handful of canapés from the silver tray balanced precariously on top of a bookshelf. "Don't get food like this out with the dragons, I can tell you that."
George looked at him speculatively. "Speaking of the dragons... why aren't you there?"
"You trying to get rid of me, little brother?" Charlie asked, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I'm here for the party."
"Yes, all the way from Romania," George said. "Everyone's here for the party, in fact. Bill and Fleur got a sitter and came. Percy's here. Even Mum and Dad are here."
"What's your point?" Charlie asked, his voice somewhat muffled by more canapés. "You don't like hanging out with Mum and Dad?"
"Well, it's a little strange, innit? When's the last time they went to a keg party?"
"You're the one that brought the keg," Charlie pointed out. Which was fair, George had to admit. It had just been a regular party when Harry sent out the invitations.
"I am, aren't I?" George asked, smiling proudly. Good thing someone knew how to throw a party around here.
"Speaking of which, I could use a refill," Charlie said, waving his cup. "I'll see you later."
It was only after he was gone that George realized Charlie had never answered his question. Why on earth had Charlie come all the way from Romania for a party that wasn't even meant to have a keg? And whatever the reason, why would he keep it a secret from his own brother?
----------
one hour later...
Percy had been growing steadily more curious as the party wore on. When he'd received the invitation, he'd thought it kind of Harry but resolved not to attend. He was well-aware of his own reputation; he was hardly the life of the party even among his own circle of friends. Ronald and his friends would hardly appreciate having him around. Then Harry had followed up the invitation with a personal visit to his office, and insisted that it was of the utmost importance that Percy attend his housewarming party. It was all highly gratifying, of course, but also quite mystifying. Thus far in the evening, it had been nothing more than a regular party. A quite well-attended party, Percy supposed, with excellent canapés and an everlasting keg of ale, but a regular party nonetheless.
Why had Harry been so insistent that Percy attend? And where was Harry?
----------
thirty minutes later...
In Gretna Green, Harry and Ginny paused before a huge stone fireplace. He wore his Auror dress robes, bottle-green with braid at the shoulders and lapels, and she wore a simple white dress that exposed her freckled arms. On her head was a small, lacy veil, pushed back away from her face and falling only to her shoulders. Each of them wore a shiny new gold band on their left hands.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Ready," Ginny confirmed with a smile. "I just hope Romilda enjoyed her little trip to Outer Mongolia, once she realized you weren't on holiday there."
Harry grinned. "She can take the next portkey out, and be back just in time to welcome us home from our honeymoon."
A bit misty-eyed at the prospect of an entire week without the Prophet's top gossip columnist, Ginny grasped Harry's hand tightly in hers, and gave it a squeeze. Hand-in-hand, they stepped through the Floo together and out into Harry's living room.
When they arrived at Harry's house, the party was already in full swing. For a moment, the chatter and conversation continued. Then a ripple of silence passed through the crowd as every guest turned to look, letting their sentences trail off into nothing. Soon, the only sound in the house was the tinny echo of the Weird Sisters playing on the wireless.
Then Molly Weasley let out a shriek, and Harry and Ginny were buried under a mob of red-haired well-wishers.
----------
ten minutes later...
Bill slipped into the kitchen and emerged with a bottle of champagne. Waving his wand, he conjured a row of delicately fluted glasses, then levitated the bottle. Quickly, the bottle dipped and swooshed in midair, pouring glasses of bubbly liquid for all present. The glasses floated over the crowd, dropping down into outstretched hands.
Grabbing one of the glasses from the queue as it flew toward the crowd, Bill stepped carefully on top of a wooden chair and tapped the glass with his wand. The crowd of partygoers turned to him with flushed, expectant faces.
"Well," he said. "The secret's out!" A cheer went up from the party, so loud and so long that Bill had time to look over at Harry and Ginny, who were absolutely glowing with happiness. His sister had a smile on her face that was wider and more brilliant than he'd ever seen before, a smile that shone so brightly he could hardly look away. Bill swallowed with difficulty and looked over at his own wife, remembering the day when she had worn that veil and smiled that brightly. Fleur winked at him over the top of the crowd, and Bill winked back.
"Harry and Ginny have surprised us all tonight," Bill said. "Some more than others." He tipped his glass toward Charlie, who would never have come this far without some idea of what was going to happen tonight. "But I suspect that marriage will have a few surprises for them as well. I know my sister has a few tricks up her sleeve!" Ginny waved her bare arms in response, Bill shook his head as if to refute her excuses, and the crowd laughed. "Please join me in raising your glasses to Harry and Ginny Potter," Bill said, holding up his own glass above his head. "May they continue to surprise and delight each other for years to come."
"To Harry and Ginny!" roared the crowd in unison.
----------
three seconds later...
Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her close. He kissed her deeply, tasting champagne on her lips as their friends cheered.
Title: the Surprise Party
Author: r_becca
Pairing: Harry/Ginny (with supporting Weasley brothers)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2100 words
Summary: With Harry's name in all the gossip columns, how will he and Ginny ever manage a wedding without a thousand reporters present?
Author's Notes: For dukebrymin, who requested a secret wedding or elopement, Harry and Ginny keeping their relationship a secret, wizarding photographs, and nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to magglenagall for beta-reading, and to ixtoh for reasons that should be obvious to her.
----------
Harry rolled over in bed and rubbed his eyes. Bright morning sunshine was streaming through the open windows of his bedroom. Outside, birds were singing, Muggles were driving, and...
"Bugger." He reached for the bedside table and fumbled around. His glasses clattered to the floor, and he swore again. Once he'd grabbed his wand, he aimed it at the open window, squinting against the blurry sunlight as he did so. "Claudo," he commanded loudly, and the window-sashes slid shut with a loud bang, the curtains closed with a swish, and Harry fell back against the sheets with a groan.
He'd closed those windows and secured them with spells and wards before he went to bed. He was sure of it. "Bloody Romilda Vane," he muttered in the direction of the blurry ceiling.
----------
one day later...
Sure enough, the next morning the Daily Prophet's back page was splashed with a grainy picture of Harry asleep in his bed. He was sprawled facedown on the left side of the bed, with one foot sticking out from the bottom of the duvet and one arm stretched out across the other side of the bed, which was empty. The headline screamed 'WHO'S SLEEPING WITH HARRY?' and the author of the piece, one Romilda Vane, had helpfully suggested a number of well-known witches and wizards (two singers, three Quidditch players, and a WWN presenter) to fill the void. They'd even spelled the photo so that it looked as though there were a shapely woman in the bed next to him, and the image of her face kept changing, from one of their 'likely candidates' to the next.
Harry threw the newspaper down on the floor in disgust. He'd never liked the wizard press, but photographing him in his sleep was farther than he'd expected them to ever go. Although, Harry supposed, he shouldn't have been too surprised: Romilda's articles had been getting progressively bolder since she'd followed him to Brighton Beach last month and the Prophet had published a bestselling issue including a photo of his bare chest.
The fireplace flared up in a burst of green flame and Ginny stepped through. "Morning," she said brightly, brushing ash off her clothes.
She gave Harry a kiss on the cheek, her lips soft and dry, and then peered down at the paper on the floor, tilting her head to one side so she could read the headlines. "Wow, they photographed you in bed?" she asked, then kept talking as though she didn't really expect an answer. "Cut right to the heart of the matter."
Harry rested his elbows on the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands. "I can't live like this," he said.
Ginny ruffled his hair with one hand, then sat down next to him and took a sip of his tea. "Cheer up," she said. "It could be worse."
"They could have photographed me on the toilet?"
"They could find out about us."
Harry shuddered. "Could you imagine if Romilda found out about the wedding?"
"Or the wedding night," Ginny suggested, elbowing him in the side.
Harry looked up at her. "You think this is funny," he said, narrowing his eyes. Ginny grinned back at him cheekily and denied nothing. "It's just a big joke to you that I can't even sleep in my own bed without the Prophet splattering it across the back page. You won't think it's so funny when we're married and there're photos of you that turn up in the paper every day."
Ginny just shrugged. "Eh, I am attracteeve enough for ze both of us," she said, mimicking Fleur's voice perfectly.
"So you're not worried about the wedding?" Harry asked, incredulous. Hermione had put so much care and worry into her wedding plans that her hair had started to turn grey. Harry knew that Ginny and Hermione were far from the same witch, but he'd expected more than this casual dismissal.
"I'm absolutely certain that she'll find out about it, so I don't see any use in worrying," Ginny explained. "We can't keep this a secret from Romilda forever; we'll have to invite half of Britain to the wedding, and one of them is bound to let it slip."
"Maybe..." said Harry. "Maybe we could sneak away and get married in secret, with just your family there."
"My family is two dozen people," Ginny said flatly. "We can't just sneak them all off somewhere."
"All right, true. So--" Harry had been going to say that they were stuck with a big wedding and a big guest list, that would undoubtedly cause a big crowd of photographers to follow them around for a month beforehand, but Ginny interrupted him.
"--I do like the idea of a small wedding, without all the cameras," she said.
"You do? But what about all that--" Harry waved his hands around, trying to indicate all those details that Hermione had been so hung up on.
"You know I don't care about all that--" Ginny said, repeating his exact hand motion back to him. It looked much more ridiculous than he'd imagined. "But Mum would be so upset if we eloped and she didn't even know about it."
"Huh," said Harry, an idea half-formed in his mind. "Maybe we can figure something out."
----------
two weeks later...
Ron stepped through the Floo into the small house that Harry was renting in Hogsmeade, precisely at seven o'clock. Harry's housewarming party that night wasn't meant to start until eight, but he had firmly insisted, in a strange and un-Harry-like way, that Ron show up a full hour early. The house was fairly sparkling with cleanliness, another thing that was rather unlike Harry.
"Harry?" Ron called loudly, walking into the kitchen. "Mate? Are you here?"
He looked around, but saw no one. Shrugging, he opened the icebox and took out a beer, opened it and took a sip. He sat down at the kitchen table to wait for Harry to get back, and it was only then that he noticed the parchment sitting in the middle of the table, marked with his own name in Harry's messy handwriting. He opened it and read.
Ron,
I'm going to have to be a little late to the party tonight. Can you get things started without me? I bought plenty of drinks, and Kreacher will Floo over with the food. Just put on some music and let the guests in.
Thanks, Mate. I owe you one.
Harry
"Too right you owe me one," Ron said out loud to the empty kitchen, and took another drink of his beer. No wonder Harry had been so strange about the time that Ron arrived at the house. He'd obviously been planning this all along. What Ron couldn't figure out was the secrecy. If Harry'd intended to skip the beginning of his own party, he could've just said something. Couldn't he?
----------
two hours later...
"Mmmph, these things are amazing, whatever they are." Charlie scooped up another handful of canapés from the silver tray balanced precariously on top of a bookshelf. "Don't get food like this out with the dragons, I can tell you that."
George looked at him speculatively. "Speaking of the dragons... why aren't you there?"
"You trying to get rid of me, little brother?" Charlie asked, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I'm here for the party."
"Yes, all the way from Romania," George said. "Everyone's here for the party, in fact. Bill and Fleur got a sitter and came. Percy's here. Even Mum and Dad are here."
"What's your point?" Charlie asked, his voice somewhat muffled by more canapés. "You don't like hanging out with Mum and Dad?"
"Well, it's a little strange, innit? When's the last time they went to a keg party?"
"You're the one that brought the keg," Charlie pointed out. Which was fair, George had to admit. It had just been a regular party when Harry sent out the invitations.
"I am, aren't I?" George asked, smiling proudly. Good thing someone knew how to throw a party around here.
"Speaking of which, I could use a refill," Charlie said, waving his cup. "I'll see you later."
It was only after he was gone that George realized Charlie had never answered his question. Why on earth had Charlie come all the way from Romania for a party that wasn't even meant to have a keg? And whatever the reason, why would he keep it a secret from his own brother?
----------
one hour later...
Percy had been growing steadily more curious as the party wore on. When he'd received the invitation, he'd thought it kind of Harry but resolved not to attend. He was well-aware of his own reputation; he was hardly the life of the party even among his own circle of friends. Ronald and his friends would hardly appreciate having him around. Then Harry had followed up the invitation with a personal visit to his office, and insisted that it was of the utmost importance that Percy attend his housewarming party. It was all highly gratifying, of course, but also quite mystifying. Thus far in the evening, it had been nothing more than a regular party. A quite well-attended party, Percy supposed, with excellent canapés and an everlasting keg of ale, but a regular party nonetheless.
Why had Harry been so insistent that Percy attend? And where was Harry?
----------
thirty minutes later...
In Gretna Green, Harry and Ginny paused before a huge stone fireplace. He wore his Auror dress robes, bottle-green with braid at the shoulders and lapels, and she wore a simple white dress that exposed her freckled arms. On her head was a small, lacy veil, pushed back away from her face and falling only to her shoulders. Each of them wore a shiny new gold band on their left hands.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Ready," Ginny confirmed with a smile. "I just hope Romilda enjoyed her little trip to Outer Mongolia, once she realized you weren't on holiday there."
Harry grinned. "She can take the next portkey out, and be back just in time to welcome us home from our honeymoon."
A bit misty-eyed at the prospect of an entire week without the Prophet's top gossip columnist, Ginny grasped Harry's hand tightly in hers, and gave it a squeeze. Hand-in-hand, they stepped through the Floo together and out into Harry's living room.
When they arrived at Harry's house, the party was already in full swing. For a moment, the chatter and conversation continued. Then a ripple of silence passed through the crowd as every guest turned to look, letting their sentences trail off into nothing. Soon, the only sound in the house was the tinny echo of the Weird Sisters playing on the wireless.
Then Molly Weasley let out a shriek, and Harry and Ginny were buried under a mob of red-haired well-wishers.
----------
ten minutes later...
Bill slipped into the kitchen and emerged with a bottle of champagne. Waving his wand, he conjured a row of delicately fluted glasses, then levitated the bottle. Quickly, the bottle dipped and swooshed in midair, pouring glasses of bubbly liquid for all present. The glasses floated over the crowd, dropping down into outstretched hands.
Grabbing one of the glasses from the queue as it flew toward the crowd, Bill stepped carefully on top of a wooden chair and tapped the glass with his wand. The crowd of partygoers turned to him with flushed, expectant faces.
"Well," he said. "The secret's out!" A cheer went up from the party, so loud and so long that Bill had time to look over at Harry and Ginny, who were absolutely glowing with happiness. His sister had a smile on her face that was wider and more brilliant than he'd ever seen before, a smile that shone so brightly he could hardly look away. Bill swallowed with difficulty and looked over at his own wife, remembering the day when she had worn that veil and smiled that brightly. Fleur winked at him over the top of the crowd, and Bill winked back.
"Harry and Ginny have surprised us all tonight," Bill said. "Some more than others." He tipped his glass toward Charlie, who would never have come this far without some idea of what was going to happen tonight. "But I suspect that marriage will have a few surprises for them as well. I know my sister has a few tricks up her sleeve!" Ginny waved her bare arms in response, Bill shook his head as if to refute her excuses, and the crowd laughed. "Please join me in raising your glasses to Harry and Ginny Potter," Bill said, holding up his own glass above his head. "May they continue to surprise and delight each other for years to come."
"To Harry and Ginny!" roared the crowd in unison.
----------
three seconds later...
Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her close. He kissed her deeply, tasting champagne on her lips as their friends cheered.