Three Years Later: WeddingFic (2/2)
Title: Three Years Later: WeddingFic (2/2)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows, previous chapters
Characters/Pairings: H/G, R/Hr, Neville, Luna, and too many others to mention
Rating: PG-13 for language and crude behavior
Summary: Didn’t you read the title?
Notes: Three Years Later is going to be a two- (Edit: Three or four) parter, but nicely separate. WeddingFic now, ReceptionFic later. Shout out to lawsoprano! Heheheh I own Hermione’s family; the rest belong to JK Rowling.
Three Years Later: WeddingFic (1/2) / Previous Chapters / ReceptionFic
Vernon Dursley stifled a yawn as The Boy walked to the front of the rows of chairs along with a tall redheaded boy that was obviously related to the freakish lot on the other side of the aisle.
I should have never agreed to come, he mentally chastised. Monsters and giants and maniacs everywhere, blowing up houses and slicing each other’s ears off…
And here came old one-ear now, the one whose brother turned Dudley’s tongue into a beluga whale all those years ago. He had a brunette on his arm, and they split off to stand by the other ginger kid.
Can’t wait to get the lot of them out of our lives forever, Vernon thought as the couple was followed by another pair: a brown-haired boy with a scarred face and a blonde girl with big buggy eyes and… were those corks around her neck? He couldn’t tell, as they were soon too far away and standing next to The Boy, who Vernon noticed had a white pin on his lapel, too small to make out from this distance.
Maybe we shouldn’t even move back, Vernon thought as the mass of people stood at once and turned around. Milwaukee’s been good to me. Dudley, too. At least we could keep an ocean between us and any mention of Potter. Bet you the house could fetch a good amount in today’s market; the three of us could buy a new one in Racine no problem.
As the first of the two brides walked down the aisle (the one that The Boy’s marrying, since she’s being escorted by that strange redheaded man that had come into their house and destroyed it, and he’s the ginger kid’s father, and as freakish as things are here, I doubt that incest is a common practice in this day and age) Vernon heard an indignant sniff at his shoulder.
Bout bloody time Petunia starts acting like herself, Vernon said, knowing that she had some snide comment prepared about the dress or the hair or whatever, before realizing that it had come not from his wife, but from across the aisle.
“Astonishing,” the ancient-looking woman said in a voice louder than even Petunia would have mustered. “Scandalous. The dress that she’s wearing…”
“Aunt Muriel,” the boy standing next to her, another redhead, this one with a ponytail (fucking hippie, Vernon thought) whispered, “Keep it down.”
“Look at that!” Muriel continued. “Whoever designed it should be drug out into the street and castrated!”
“I designed it,” snapped the pretty blond girl (Some French name, Vernon recalled) from the hippie’s other side, a small child on her arm. A grim-looking man on the other side of the girl, with a goatee and heavy eyebrows, also looked over and gave the old woman a dark glance.
“You can practically see Ginevra’s nipples in the thing, it’s cut so short!”
A woman after my own heart, thought Vernon. Just like Margie. However much the girl heard, though, it didn’t seem to faze her. She rolled her eyes and smiled toward the front, where The Boy was just chuckling and shaking his head.
Vernon did have to admit, though, that the old bag was taking things a bit much. The dress didn’t look bad on the girl. Pretty little bird, Vernon thought as she passed. Not much up top, but a nice enough ass to make up for it.
As the second girl followed behind the first (What’s this double wedding nonsense, anyway? Vernon thought. Making us sit through two different vows. Making things twice as long. Wasting a perfectly good afternoon when I could be golfing), a chubby balding man on her arm, Vernon saw her crack a huge grin and wave toward the front. Hey, she mouthed, and The Boy raised his hand in response before she turned her attention back to Ginger.
We’re leaving after the ceremony, Vernon decided as the crowd returned to their seats. No staying around for the reception. We’ve wasted enough time with The Boy, and it ends now.
“Ladies and gentlemen…” the old midget said from the front.
“…We are gathered here to celebrate the union of… well… four faithful souls…”
Neville Longbottom, as Harry Potter’s best man, had a fantastic view of the entire proceedings. The wizened old man, the same who had overseen Dumbledore’s funeral and, as Ron had explained earlier, over the wedding of Bill and Fleur Weasley, stood in the middle of the group of eight, with Neville and George Weasley, Ron’s best man, flanking him on either side, with Neville on his right and George on his left. Harry stood in front of Neville, with Ginny next to him and Luna Lovegood on the far end. On the other side, Ron and Hermione stood together, with Hermione’s cousin, Gretchen, the other bookend.
“Marriage,” the old man said, “is a fine, and storied, institution…”
Neville felt the words of the priest drift over him as he glanced around at the sea of people. He knew that not an eye in the place was on him, but the size of the crowd was intimidating nonetheless. Intimidating, but reassuring at the same time. Knowing that so many people cared about his friends to come out, even Harry’s last surviving blood relatives, was an amazing thing.
He dared to take a glance over at Luna, who was dressed in a bright yellow sundress. She looks absolutely radiant, Neville thought, astonished that he thought even that poetically about someone.
Luna looked back, and their eyes met. She gave him a small smile, and looked away, her face reddening.
If only I had the courage to do something, but came to his senses as the old man finished his speech and turned to Ron and Hermione.
“Do you, Ronald Bilius, take Hermione Jean to be your wife?”
Out of everyone in the group, Ron was the only one who Neville couldn’t see from the front. However, from the way that his dress robes quivered beneath him, Neville was sure that his legs were shaking from nerves, just as they always had before his Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts.
“I do,” he said, and Neville recalled him saying last night that he was grateful to only have a few things to memorize.
The old man turned to Hermione. “Do you, Hermione Jean, take Ronald Bilius to be your husband?”
Hermione, her hair straightened and pulled back like it had been during the Yule Ball all of those years ago, smiled. I remember when her teeth were bigger, thought Neville. I almost forgot that she changed them.
“I do,” she said, and Ron let out a sigh of relief that Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at.
The priest turned to the other couple.
“Do you, Harry James, take Ginevra Molly to be your wife?”
Harry Potter, wearing new glasses on his face and a white owl pin on his lapel, took Ginny’s hands. Neville noticed that his hair was calm and manageable for the first time in a long time, and wondered if he had used the same tonics that Hermione had used on her own.
“I do,” he said, smiling down at the blushing redhead.
“Do you, Ginevra Molly, take Harry James to be your husband?”
She was my first date, Neville thought, once again sailing back to the Yule Ball, and the two of them dancing together. The first girl, hell, the first person to ever make me feel confident about myself.
He dared another look at Luna, and saw a tear falling down her cheek. Maybe I do have the courage…
“I do,” said Ginny, positively beaming, and Harry squeezed her hand with a matching smile.
“Do you have the rings?” the priest asked, and the two women both raised their left hands. Harry and Ron took the engagement rings from their future brides and handed them to the priest.
“And your wands?”
“That’s our cue, mate,” George said, poking Neville in the arm with his elbow. Neville nodded and, reaching into his back pocket, pulled out his wand. George did the same, twirling it with a baton-like flourish as he did so. With the other hand, he reached into the priest’s wrinkled palm and took Ginny’s ring, gold with a green periodot jewel, from beside Hermione’s, which was silver with three small blue sapphires.
“On three?” Neville asked, and George nodded, pointing the tip of his wand at Hermione’s ring.
“One, two, three. Geminio!”
Both rings split in their palms, becoming two pairs of identical rings.
“Now the tough part,” George whispered. “I’ll give you five Galleons if you turn Ginny’s into an onion ring.”
A few people seemed to overhear this conversation, as the two couples laughed, as did the Weasley and Granger parents in the front row.
“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Neville replied, tapping his wand to one of the rings, which turned into a plain gold band. Tapping the other, it Transfigured into a golden diamond ring, with a small periodot on each side.
“You’re no fun,” George snorted, and Transfigured his own rings into platinum, diamond, and sapphire that matched Neville’s. The two best men handed them to the couples and resumed their positions flanking the priest. The old man nodded to Ron, who turned back to Hermione and took her hand.
“With this ring,” he said, slipping it onto her finger, “I thee wed.”
“With this ring,” Hermione said, and Neville could hear the tears in the back of her voice, “I thee wed.”
The priest turned to Harry.
“With this ring,” Harry said, sliding it onto Ginny’s finger. “I thee wed.”
“With this ring,” Neville could see that Ginny’s fingers were trembling, “I thee wed.”
“With the exchange of rings,” the priest said to the two couples as Molly and Charlotte sniffed in the front row. “I declare you bonded for life. You may now kiss the brides.”
The audience roared in applause as Ron and Hermione kissed, and some laughed as Harry was practically knocked over by Ginny. Neville instinctively reached over and put his hand on Harry’s back to make sure he didn’t topple.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the priest said to the crowd, and Neville was amazed that the man didn’t need any Sonorus charm despite his size and age. “I give you, for the first time, Ronald and Hermione Weasley, and Harry and Ginevra Potter!”
A whistle speared through the cheers, and Neville was sure, recognizing it from the Quidditch pitch all these years, that it had to be Seamus somewhere in the crowd. Along with that, there were a few nose blows, the largest one coming from Hagrid, whose huge head could be seen in the back row.
“Now,” the priest said, raising a wand of his own, “I can see that most of you are standing, but if the rest of you could rise…”
He flourished his wand, and the folded-up tents and tables lifted off the ground and, along with the wooden chairs, positioned themselves around the lawn of the Burrow.
The sun began to set in the west, and it was time for the party to start.
Three Years Later: WeddingFic (1/2) / Previous Chapters / ReceptionFic