Better Things to Come
"Dance with me or I'll have Fred and George slip you a Canary Cream in your sleep." Harry/Ginny, Harry Potter
Summary: Harry and Ginny take a moment at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Written for annakin47, 1473 words, Half Blood Prince spoilers apply.
~*~*~
"Time stands still, and I hope for better things to come." – The Time Traveler's Wife
The day is as perfect as they all could have hoped. Not a cloud in the sky, not a drop of rain on the day that Bill Weasley takes Fleur Delacour to be his wife, to have and to hold…Harry can't remember the rest, but he definitely recalls the end. "Till death do us part," pretty difficult to forget. The reception is in full swing as he sips his Butterbeer and idly wonders if he'll ever be able to promise "till death do us part" to anyone. He's not sure it means much when there's someone in the world who would gladly kill him at any moment. He wonders if it's perhaps the thought that counts, before shaking his head of all thoughts of marriage altogether.
Harry watches from his seat as Ron trips over his own feet on the dance floor, stepping on Hermione's shoe in the process. Ron steps back and throws up his hands in an I can't do this gesture, which only makes Hermione roll her eyes and grab his hands. She puts the left one at her waist, places her hand on the back of Ron's neck, and they start again. Harry can see Hermione's lips move in time to the music; he'd bet anything she's counting out the beats for Ron. He notes with amusement that Ron seems to catch on quickly, because by the end of the song he's spinning Hermione out and pulling her back in. Hermione's infectious laugh rings out over the crowd, reaching Harry's ears. When Ron spins her out and back in a second time, she collides into his chest and they stand stock still for a moment before Ron cracks a grin, and then it's all over. Ron cradles Hermione's head as she leans her forehead on his shoulder, both of their bodies shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Harry can't help but laugh with them, his heart bursting to see his two best friends so happy in such a dark time. They've all fought so hard, for so long, that a day like this isn't just well-deserved, it's necessary. They all need to be reminded what they're fighting for.
Harry's gaze drifts from Ron and Hermione to the main table, where Bill is trying, unsuccessfully, to shove a piece of cake into Fleur's perfectly made up face. Fleur's eyes flash dangerously and Harry is reminded uncomfortably of how vicious he knows veela women to be, but before he can blink she's turned the tables and smashed the cake in Bill's face. Bill blinks, dumbfounded, before snatching her at the waist and leaning in to kiss her. She leans away from him, laughing and shrieking in protest, which only makes him rub his cake-covered cheek against hers. Fleur just smiles and gives in, wrapping one hand around Bill's neck and cupping his face with the other. They kiss, and before Harry looks away he sees her fingers unconsciously caress the scar that runs from Bill's temple to his mouth. Some scars can never be healed; Harry knows that all too well. But any survivor has his own scars, his own story to tell, and Bill Weasley is nothing if not a survivor.
"It's just a scar after all, isn't it. Nothing all that special." Her index finger runs down Harry's forehead, tracing the zigzag path of his scar.
"Are you saying I'm not special then?" he replies with mock indignance.
"Yes, that's absolutely it," she laughs. "Or perhaps that you're very special, but the scar is the least of your admirable qualities."
"I've got admirable qualities. Who knew?" She socks him lightly in the gut.
"Oof. That one hurt," he says, wrapping his arms around her and leaning his back against the tree. Ginny nestles her head onto his shoulder, her breath light against his neck.
"You have more admirable qualities than anyone I know," she says quietly, and he kisses her head in response.
Harry shakes his head free of memories and slides his gaze to the end of the main table. Molly Weasley is leaning her head against her husband's shoulder, also watching her son and his bride. She's smiling as a tear slides down her cheek, and Harry thinks with a smirk that if Molly Weasley and Fleur Delacour can come to terms, there might be hope for the world after all.
"Perfectly disgusting, aren't they?" Ginny says cheerfully, dropping into the chair next to him.
He turns his head to look at her as she nods to Bill and Fleur. "Nah, just happy, I'd say."
"Yeah, disgustingly happy."
"Well, maybe a little," he agrees with a chuckle. "How've you been?"
"Fine, fine. I'm possibly failing every subject since Hermione's not there to proof my homework, but what can you do?" she says with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders.
Harry, who knows that Ginny is much cleverer than she gives herself credit for, merely rolls his eyes. "Sure."
"I'm serious! Hogwarts just isn't the same without you three and…"
"Dumbledore," Harry finishes somberly.
"Yeah. McGonagall's been brilliant, it's not that, but every time I walk past her office I get the feeling that something is dreadfully wrong. Like he's just on vacation, that he'll be back to Hogwarts any moment, you know?"
"I know. I miss him too."
"I know you do," she says, her dark eyes sympathetic. She leans closer to him and drops her voice as she asks, "so, how's everything going with you? What have you found out?"
"Not enough," Harry says, dropping his voice to match hers. "We have some clues, but nothing's coming together just yet."
"You'll get it," she says confidently.
"How can you be so sure?" he asks.
"Haven't you heard? I have the Sight. Trelawney told me. Runs in the family, she said." Ginny closes her eyes and waves her hands in front of her. "I see you defeating your enemies and living to the ripe old age of 43, at which point you will be run over by the Knight Bus."
"Well, at least there's a plan," Harry deadpans, and they both laugh for a moment.
Ginny pushes a tendril of flaming red hair behind her ear as her eyes turn serious. "I've always had faith in you," she says sincerely. "That's never changed."
"I know," Harry says, fiddling with the label on his bottle. "Ginny, I—"
Ginny shakes her head firmly. "Nope. Not today, Potter. Today, my brother is married and everyone's happy, and I don't want to think about anything besides getting you on the dance floor."
Harry leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, that's certainly not happening."
"Harry, Harry, Harry, need I remind you that five of my big brothers are here today? I'm the baby. They dote on me. I get anything I want."
"One of them happens to be my best friend," Harry replies, arching his eyebrow as if to say what do you think of that?
"Dance with me or I'll have Fred and George slip you a Canary Cream in your sleep," she threatens.
Harry sighs, pretending to be annoyed as he gets on his feet. "When you put it that way," he says, holding his hand out to her. She grasps it and stands, and he leads the way to the floor.
They settle on a spot and Ginny turns into Harry's arms, resting her hands on his shoulders. He thinks she fits there more perfectly than she really should, but he says nothing as they sway to the slow beat. He remembers all his reasons for pushing her away, but it's moments like this when he wonders if he made the right choice. If maybe being with her might be worth the risk. But the risk is her life, and that's one chance he won't take. So here they are again, and nothing's changed except for this fact – they've never danced together. It's their first dance, and it might be their last, but Harry knows either way that he'll remember this as long as he's breathing. He thinks this might be as close to "till death do us part" that he'll ever get.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks, slipping a hand to the back of his neck.
"Nothing and everything," he replies honestly, pulling her a little closer. "You?"
"Same."
"Yeah."
They dance until the song ends, breaking apart only when Mrs. Weasley calls for a toast. They return to their table, turning their attention to the mother of the groom. When Mrs. Weasley finishes with "to the happy couple," Harry feels a small hand slip inside his. His fingers tighten instinctively around Ginny's as their family and friends raise their glasses and toast to the future.
end
Posted by Carrie on 05:46 PM