Ron kicked the end of his bed.
"It's not fair!" He shouted. "It's the Golden Trio, not the Golden Couple." He flopped into his chair and crossed his arms with a huff.
"And fucking Bill! You're lucky I don't have a wand, you bloody wanker!" His hand itched to feel his wand in it again, and he went through the series of jinxes and hexes he would lay on his oldest brother if he could. The picture of Bill as he wailed apologies while he belched slugs on his knees made Ron feel better and gradually calmed him down.
"Fine." He declared to Babbity. "They want to cut me out of The Golden Trio, that's fine. Far as anyone knows I'm the only one left anyway. I'll show them. I'll show them they should have stayed friends with me. I'll show them they don't want to cross Ronald Bilius Weasley."
Ronald Bilius Weasley smiled then, a large beatific smile. He remembered there was a white card downstairs on the mantel. The white card wasn't just an invitation to Harry and Hermione's wedding, it was a Portkey to wherever the wedding was. That meant all he had to do was touch the thing and he would be taken along with it.
"You reckon you can just ditch me, you've got another thing coming." He told the stuffed rabbit. He got up and paced the length of his room while he thought about how he could get hold of the invitation while his parents activated it. Just asking was out, they were already bent out of shape over the fact that he had better things to do than sit next to an unmoving body. If it had been a female body he'd have been more inclined of course, but it was Harry. Ew.
"Man, if only I had that cloak." He said, "I could just pinch a corner and they'd be none the wiser." Babbity didn't reply. Ron paced up and down again as he imagined how easy it would be to just throw the cloak over himself and go invisible. It was no use though, Harry had the cloak and Ron didn't think the new greedy, possessive Harry would loan it out.
"If only I could just use a charm to go invisible like those greasy Death Eater squits at the Department of Mysteries..." He mused.
Babbity just stared at him.
'Hang on, there's a charm you can use to go invisible!" He declared. "I'll just do that! Wait, no, still can't, Dad's got my wand locked up." He frowned and growled his annoyance.
Babbity stared at him some more.
"Yeah Babs, but I can't just go bust the lock and take it, Mum and Dad are pissed at me already... But I can go buy a new wand! You're a bloody genius, mate. It's only seven galleons!" He still had the 'rainy day' fund his mum made him keep. He couldn't use that for food or alcohol or things for girls, she'd made him promise that with a magic oath, but this wasn't any of those things. He could just go get a new wand and then head to the library to learn the...
His smile fell off and shattered on the floor when he realized he would have to go to the library and actually read how to cast Disillusionment, and then practice.
He stared at the floor, and then paced back and forth as he desperately tried to find a way around the necessity, to no avail.
"Yeah, you're right." He sighed. "It's for a good cause, and I can use it for all sorts of brilliant things later too. It is worth the effort."
He ignored best mate Babbity then, a true genius if ever there was one, and raced downstairs to the floo and Diagon Alley.
Gwen let her gaze slide over the spines, but none of them had anything to offer. No spark of idea lit her brain, she just read and dismissed each book as she saw it. She couldn't go to Harry to ask advice, as he would likely be the beneficiary of the gift as well, and that left Luna to ask, but Luna was 'in the field' - off no-one knew where, doing whatever it was she did to find new and exciting species of magical creatures. It made Gwen smile to know that Luna had grown into her potential. She'd always thought the girl was incredibly smart, just from the questions that she'd asked as a child, but to see her finished school and out in the world applying her intellect was particularly satisfying.
She sighed as she she exhausted the "research" bookshelf, and reluctantly wandered toward the counter.
"What can I help you with, miss?" Mr. Blotts asked her from behind the counter.
She flashed him a smile. It had been a long time since she'd been in a shop where she she wasn't recognized and the staff were wonderful. "I looked at everything you have in the research section, but I couldn't find anything serious."
"Serious?" Mr. Blotts raised his eyebrows. "The research section has the most recently published research available, I stock it myself from publisher's catalogues. What are you looking for exactly?"
"Ideally I'm looking for something in-depth regarding dimensional torsion along predetermined runic axes, particularly with regard to Brazzleton's spatial corollary... But I'll settle for anything on invalidating Gamp's laws or manipulating magical density."
Mr. Blotts paled three shades and looked at her as though she had firecrabs dribbling from her mouth. "What in magic's name could you want such a book for?"
It's a wedding gift."
If anything, that only made him goggle at her harder. "I'm sorry miss, the book you seek does not exist."
She sighed. "Thanks anyway Mister Blotts, I guess I'll have to write it myself. I sort of figured I would, but I thought I'd at least check."
Mister Blotts smiled then. "Well, let me know when you do, I'll happily carry it."
She smiled back at him. "Thanks Mister Blotts, I will."
She turned to go, and instantly ran over a rail-thin man as he stood next to her. She managed to catch him bodily as he fell backward, and pulled him upright again. "I'm so sorry!" She apologized, "Are you alright?"
She looked up into a self-deprecating grin and a pair of steel blue eyes.
"Nothing a few bottles of Skelegrow won't cure." He smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Rynard Powell, it's a pleasure to be demolished by you."
She laughed sheepishly, even as she felt heat in her cheeks. "Gwen. Nice to meet you too. Sorry about that."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Pay it no mind, I'm just being excessively fragile. I don't mean to pry, but did I just hear you say you're looking for a book on subverting Gamp's laws?"
"As a gift, yes. I'm more interested in circumventing Brazzleton's corollary myself."
Rynard's eyebrows raised and his smile grew. "You have friends who would enjoy that as a gift as well?"
Gwen gave him a quizzical look.
"Too much, right. Sorry. I'm just thrilled to meet someone - anyone - who has a similar interest to mine. I research the laws of magic myself, I happen to be working through Gamp's exceptions right now, so the fact that you and your friends have a similar interest is just brilliant. I've never met anyone else with the interest or the... well." He stopped talking and blushed slightly. "I'm babbling, sorry."
She'd never met anyone excited about research before. She had to admit the manic spark in his eye was just adorable. "Do you have time to talk about it?" She asked him.
His face lit up. "I would love to!" Then his face fell again. "I'm sort of here with some other people, though." His face assumed a look halfway between resignation and a grimace.
"I wouldn't want to take you from anything." She said.
He seemed to wrestle with something in his head, then sighed. "My friends brought me out to the Leaky for my birthday." He said with chagrin. "They mean well, but they're all... normal. They got pretty drunk straightaway, so they're probably having a good time, but I read that alcohol destroys mental faculties, and consequently I don't touch the stuff. So... I kind of escaped and came to look for some reading." He finished with a sheepish look.
"I read that too!" She said, "I stopped drinking that night. I suspect it only applies to muggles, but without the research to say for sure I'm not taking the chance. We could sit in the Leaky and talk if you like, that way you're not too far from your friends."
"I'd like that." He agreed. "What area do you research, if you don't mind me asking?" He grinned at her openly as he held the door for her so they could cross the Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron.
"Right now I'm working on interphased runic vectors, but I'm bogged down in trying to reduce the spatial corollary to zero. The arithmancy is complicated to say the least."
"Wow, that's... I don't think I've ever heard of anything that ambitious. That's amazing! My own work is just a closer examination of Gamp's exceptions, so it's not really very experimental." They entered the Leaky and took a a secluded booth along the wall.
Gwen immediately cast a sound filter to make everything quiet but not silent. If Rynard's friends were here, she didn't want them to think he was ignoring them while they talked, so she just made everything quieter. "Have you discovered anything interesting about them yet? Any loopholes or workarounds?"
Rynard's eyes lit up and his grin practically shone as he just smiled at her for a moment.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." He apologized. "It's just such a thrill to have anyone interested. Nobody has ever asked me about my work before." He cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact I have discovered why food is an exception but water is not."
"Really?!" She leaned forward, elbows on the table between them. "Why is that? I've always wondered. It made no sense to me that we can conjure water, which is the thing we need most to survive, but we can't conjure food, which we need far less."
"You're on the right track. I had much the same thought myself when I began to look into it. Have you ever wondered why you can transfigure non-living stone into a living, breathing, moving monkey, but you can't make yourself non-living, immobile lunch?"
"Yes! It doesn't make any sense!"
"My research shows that you haven't actually transfigured the stone into a monkey. It isn't alive, it only has the semblance of life. When the spell wears off, it goes back to being a stone. Magic can't create actual life. Even when you Draconofors something and then make it permanent you aren't creating actual life. You couldn't then cut the tail off that dragon and eat it - well, you could, but you would be eating whatever the material you started with was. Magic can't create life - and that's got nothing to do with souls at all, I'm talking just about the physical property of being alive."
"Okay, but a sandwich isn't alive." She pointed out.
"No, that's true - but it once was. Every single part of that sandwich was at one time alive. The wheat that made the bread grew living from the soil. The meat in the middle was alive. The lettuce, the mustard, the cheese, all of it. Even in the case of peanut butter and jam, the peanuts were once alive, as was the fruit used to make the jam. Magic cannot even make anything that was once alive."
"Huh." She grunted as she saw the logic of it. "Water was never alive, so it isn't an exception."
"Precisely!" He exclaimed gleefully. "I actually succeeded in conjuring a sandwich, but it contained no flavor, no nutrition at all. It was essentially transfigured water. What I'm working on now is the combination of conjuration with healing spells - specifically those intended to grow muscle - to try to circumvent the limitation. No success yet, I'm afraid."
"Think of the implications if you do succeed though! No-one would go hungry at all. You would free the entire populace from having to work to get money to buy food with. Witches and Wizards could become entirely self-sufficient."
He quirked one corner of his mouth and shook his head sadly. "I don't think it would have much impact on society as a whole, truthfully. There would still need to be a Ministry and everyone would still want remuneration for their work, there would still need to be a system in place for purchasing things that are too difficult to obtain or beyond a witch or wizard's capacity to create - but you're not wrong, I think it would certainly help."
He'd even thought through what might happen if he succeeded. Gwen had to admit to herself the conversation had ignited an excitement in her that she hadn't felt in a long time. Well, a long time before she met Hermione, anyway.
"Have you thought of an application for your own research?" He asked.
"I have, actually." She smiled back at him, "My father doesn't get around as well as he used to, and I live on the west coast - though that will likely change soon as I'm not required to be out there anymore. I started my project as a way to make it easier to see my father by co-locating two disparate destinations."
His eyebrows shot up again. "Actual physical congregation?!" He half-whispered in a tone of awe. "No wonder you're focused on the spatial complex. The Wilkes arrays alone for something of that magnitude would take months, if not years!"
"Took me eighteen months." She smiled proudly. "I recently made some new friends who offered to help, though they are currently quite busy. We're going to start again and run through what I have to see if I haven't missed any-"
They were interrupted by a shout from nearby. "Rynnie! Pull yer finger out, man! Yer missin' a great party!"
They turned to look at the source of the shout - a thickset young wizard with rounded shoulders who had seen little if any exercise. He approached them unsteadily between the tables, leaned on two other patrons in order to get to them, and sloshed a quarter pint of whatever was in his tankard on the floor. When he finally reached their table, the inebriated man leaned heavily on 'Rynnie''s shoulder and turned to Gwen.
"Whoa Rynnie! Good goin', mate! Hey there sweets, I'm Roger." He gave her a wide, cheesily salacious grin.
Gwen groaned internally. Berks like him were why she'd stopped going to parties in the first place. Rynard, bless him, had such an apologetic look on his face that she had to chuckle. "Good afternoon, Roger. Are you a friend of Rynard's? You must be thrilled to know such a brilliant mind." She smiled patiently at him.
"Yeah, Rynnie's a barrell of laughs." He clapped Rynard on the back twice and never noticed Rynard's wince. "You look a bit like Gwenog Jones, you related?" Roger squinted at her.
"No, I can honestly say I am not related to Gwenog Jones." She said.
"Who is Gwenog Jones?" Rynard asked.
Roger stopped and looked down at him. "Who is - ?" He turned back to Gwen. "Forgive my mate here, he's bloody hopeless. Who is Gwenog Jones? Lives in a cave, he does."
"She's just a quidditch player." Gwen answered him, "Nobody important."
"Nobody important?!" Roger repeated, then turned to shout at a table across the room. "Oi! Rynnie thinks Gwenog Jones is NOBODY IMPORTANT!"
Rynard looked down at the table and sighed, then leaned forward to whisper to her. "I really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd love to continue our conversation, but I know from experience Roger and the rest aren't going to leave us alone. Would you mind if I floo'd you so we can continue this later?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you asking me on a date?"
Rynard's ears went pink and his eyebrows raised as his head shrank into his shoulders. "Yes?"
Gwen smiled at him. "In that case I'd love to. My address is The Harpy's Nest."
"The Harpy's Nest? Who named it that? You're absolutely lovely, nothing at all like a Harpy! Thank you for adding some brilliance to today, I'll call as soon as I can. Sorry about him, I'll go handle it. It was positively fantastic to meet you." He grinned at her and stood up to balance Roger, with one arm draped over his shoulders. He led Roger back toward the table he'd come from, and Gwen couldn't help but notice as she rose to leave that she quite liked the look of 'Rynnie''s hindquarters.
She found to her surprise that she looked forward to his call, and grinned the rest of the afternoon while she searched for a wedding gift.
Ginny started with low power first. She'd never actually used the thing before, so she didn't know how much it could handle. Only Ron would buy something and just assumed it worked how he wanted it to. She took careful aim at the large green striped fruit, and whispered "Subpono."
The surge of magic flowed down her wand and through the siphon, and... nothing happened. The vial of water stayed full of water, the empty vial stayed empty.
"Okay, let's try a bit more power then." Ginny took a few deep breaths and focused again on the large fruit. "Subpono." She let a little more magic flow from her wand this time, and was rewarded with an empty water vial, and pink liquid in the empty one. She took the time to smile to herself and feel the thrill of her success. She imagined the runny fruit juice was Harry's blood, thick and red and beautiful. Once he belonged to her, she'd have years to find a way to use his blood to make him belong to her permanently. She knew she could do it though, she was Ginevra Molly Weasley. At seventeen she was poised to become the star Chaser for the Harpies, she'd aced eight O.W.L.s, she could Apparate, Disillusion, and had invented a way to copy a Portkey destination from one Portkey to another. She was a beautiful athletic genius, and nothing would be denied her. Not fame, not fortune, and especially not the Ultimate Prize - Harry Potter.
Ginny replaced the vials in the siphon, backed up several paces and tried again at the same power level. Nothing happened.
"Hm. Not a very good range. I guess I'll have to sneak in closer than I thought." She muttered.
She tried scores of times, and slowly worked out the range of her siphon. She repeated the experiment every day for weeks, until she understood instinctively how much power she needed to use at various ranges in order to have the tool work properly.
Hallowe'en afternoon, her potions completed their brew time and they looked - and smelled - even more potent than she'd intended. With an ecstatic grin, she removed them from the heat and placed stasis lids on them, so they were fresh and ready to be used in eight days.
She made sure everything was well hidden under Disillusionment, and left the roof of the dorm to rejoin her new teammates as they readied for their induction.
She opened her locker and pulled her gear out and began to undress when Bethany opened her loud mouth.
"Oi! Where you been, Weasley? Check out the grin on red, ladies! That's a 'got some' grin if I've ever seen one."
"Hope it was worth almost missing your induction." Tiffany added with a scathing look.
"It might have been if it was your boyfriend, Tiff. I'd wear him like panties." Morgan grinned viciously.
"I would say that's a possibility Mo, but he's not into bovines." Tiffany shot back.
Bethany laughed at Morgan as she assumed a deep shade of pink and glared at Tiffany.
Ginny ignored them as she changed and headed out to the pitch where a stage had been erected. The bright lights shone down on everything and bathed it in white light that was just shy of harsh. One section of the bleachers was almost full of people. She saw her mother and father there, with Bill, Charlie, George and Ron beside them. Ron looked upset about something, but Bill and Charlie waved with huge grins when they saw her. She waved back, and assumed her seat on the right half of the stage.
The other two inductees showed up and assumed their seats next to her. Ginny wasn't wild about putting up with the bickering between them for the next decade or so, but with any luck they'd simmer down when they got used to each other. She had to admit Tiffany's boyfriend was very pretty, but he was nothing compared to her Harry.
The current team flew out of the chute, the signal that the ceremony had begun, while fanfare blared and fireworks exploded in the night sky. The team, led by their Captain Gwenog, executed one lap of the pitch in a tight V formation and then landed perfectly on the left side of the stage.
Gwenog looked fantastic. Ginny had always admired her grizzled veteran look, but her face looked somehow younger, brighter. Her every piece of gear shone, from her immaculately polished leg guards to her dazzling gold harpy claw Captain insignia. Even her armored cap glittered in the light as she stepped to the podium front and center of the stage.
"Thank you all for coming," She said, her voice magically loud, "Thank you all for being with us on this momentous occasion. Today we celebrate the conclusion of the trial of three young women! Today we laud them for their hard work, their skill and their learning. Today they have earned the right to call themselves Harpies!"
The crowd roared and applause thundered across the pitch.
She waited for the noise to quiet, and when it did, Gwenog turned to look at Ginny, Morgan, and Tiffany. "Revel in your success today, ladies. Tomorrow the real work begins. Tomorrow you feel the pressure of your teammates' expectations. Tomorrow you run endless plays in the hopes they become reflex. Tomorrow begins the sweat and the pain and the grind. That's what it is to be a Harpy!"
Gwenog looked at Tiffany with a piercing stare. "Tiffany Sherrington!" She shouted, and crooked her finger to indicate Tiffany should come forward. Part of the crowd shouted and hooted and applauded. Probably Tiffany's family.
Tiffany stood and joined Gwenog at the podium. "Do you want to be a Harpy?" Gwenog asked her.
Tiffany's face twisted as she fought back tears. "More than anything." She answered.
Gwenog nodded then, and flicked her wand upward. From high above, in the darkness above the lights, a green tabard edged in gold with a gold claw emblazoned on the front floated serenely out of the night to settle itself over Tiffany's shoulders.
"Your new Beater!" Gwenog shouted.
The crowd roared again, and thunderous applause washed over them as Tiffany lost her battle against tears.
Gwenog reached out to enfold Tiffany in a hug. "Welcome to the team." She smiled at Tiffany warmly.
"Thank you!" Tiffany grinned, "Thank you, Captain! Thank you so much!" She wiped her cheeks and eyes with the back of her hand just before the rest of the team also embraced her. Tiffany wiped her eyes again as she sat back down, the smile etched on her face seemed permanent.
Gwenog once again waited for quiet before she shouted the next name. "Merriweather Morgan!"
Ginny winced. No wonder she insisted everyone just call her Morgan. Poor girl. Shouts and applause came from the bleachers, regardless. At least her family was behind her. Morgan stood and crossed the distance to the Captain with stars in her eyes.
"Do you want to be a Harpy?" Gwenog asked again.
"YES, CAPTAIN!" Morgan shouted. Morgan's family shouted and applauded again from the stands. Gwenog smiled at her as she flicked her wand skyward and Morgan's tabard floated down to settle over her.
"Your new Keeper!" Gwenog shouted, again to thunderous applause. "Welcome to the team." She added as she embraced Morgan.
"Thank you so much, Captain. I'll do my best to make you proud." Morgan smiled. She hugged the rest of the team before she sat back down and beamed the same smile as Tiffany for a moment before she reached out and hugged Tiffany as well.
"Ginevra Weasley!" The sound of her name made her head snap to look at the Captain. The look in Gwenog's eyes gave her gooseflesh in a wave. This was it. The culmination of all her hard work and patience. Only one thing left to do and her life would be on the road to Perfection.
Ginny stood and crossed to stand in front of Gwenog.
"I owe you a debt of thanks, Ginny. Personally, I mean, for your introduction. Would lifetime tickets for your family cover it do you think?"
Lifetime tickets? Ginny boggled. A season ticket for one person was hundreds of galleons. She'd never even heard of lifetime tickets.
She nodded. "More than. That's very generous of you, thank you."
Gwenog's face softened then, and Ginny realized she'd been worried. Gwenog Jones - worried. "Good, I'm glad. Thank you again." Then she resumed her Captain face, and shouted "Do you want to be a Harpy?"
Ginny smiled as those words washed over her. One goal down, one to go. "With all my heart, Captain!" She shouted back. Instantly, she could hear her family screaming their support from the stands. The feeling as her tabard settled on her shoulders was indescribable. Gwenog's shout of "Your new Chaser!" made her shiver and stood her hair on end.
"Welcome to the team." Gwenog smiled at her and embraced her, and Ginny caught a faint whiff of lilac and coconut as she did. The rest of the team passed her around like a hug doll, and after she embraced Tiffany and Morgan she resumed her seat. Only then did her family quiet down.
Gwenog held both hands up, palms out, while she waited for quiet.
"One last induction before we conclude." She said. Ginny saw the rest of the team look around, confused. There were only three new girls there. Where was the fourth?
"Glynnis Griffiths!" Gwenog shouted. Ginny frowned. Glynnis was already on the team, she'd been their Seeker for ages.
Glynnis stepped forward and stopped on Gwenog's right.
"This has been a long time coming, Glyn. Congratulations." Gwenog said as she unpinned her golden claw Captain's insignia from her tabard and pinned it to Glynnis's. "Your new Captain!" Gwenog shouted.
Stunned silence claimed the entire pitch.
Gwenog hugged Glynnis, and turned to the team. "Every veteran knows when their time comes," She explained, "This is mine. It has been an honour and a privilege to fly with you, to fight with you, to lose and to win with you. Thank you all for making my time so rich, I'll miss you all."
She hugged Glynnis, then stepped away from the podium and left Glynnis there in front of it. Gwenog hugged each of the team members in turn, then mounted her broom and flew a circuit around the pitch while she smiled and waved at everyone. After a complete circuit, she angled up into the night and out of sight.
Ginny looked to Morgan and Tiffany. The loss reflected in their faces mirrored her own, until Tiffany's face turned to horror as she realized she was the one who had to replace Gwenog Jones.
Luna suppressed a shudder as she walked from the front gates to the Welcome Hall. Less than six months prior she'd been forced to kill three people in a running battle through the halls. The memories of it always surged to the surface when she thought about school, and actually being in the school, to have it literally everywhere she looked... It was the entire reason she'd chosen to not come back to Hogwarts for her final year. Thankfully Harry and Hermione had welcomed her into their study group, and as a result she not only had fun, she felt on top of her N.E.W.T. material.
The castle itself showed no hint of the horrors it had endured, the efforts of the students and faculty had wiped away any trace as they'd rebuilt. Luna was both glad and sad that memories were not so easy to fix. That she had been able to talk to Hermione about everything for a few months had helped enormously, almost as much as the glorious month she'd lost herself with Neville. She felt herself smile as she thought of the look on his face when he saw her.
She didn't bother with the Great Hall or the Gryffindor Common Room, she walked through the school and out to the greenhouses. She waved at Dennis as she passed him, he waved back but didn't smile much. The girl he talked to frowned at her, and Luna hoped they were a good match, since she had obviously already claimed him.
Neville was in Greenhouse Number Five, he looked to be in the midst of a transplant, with several Venomous Tentaculae arranged around his workspace.
That made her pout. No way was she going to surprise him when he was doing something dangerous that required concentration.
Luckily, he only took fifteen minutes to finish the transplants. She watched as he stripped off the dragonhide apron and gloves and hung them on hooks beside the door, then washed his hands and face and neck before he stepped outside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he stretched, and as soon as he put his arms down again, she tackled him to the ground.
"GYAHaahh!" He exclaimed as she landed on top of him and flipped him over to straddle his waist.
"Hi." She said with a grin.
"Luna!" He cried, and sat up to wrap his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him into her breasts as she smiled from her pale hair to her multicoloured toes. She lay her cheek on the top of his head as the hug went on.
Finally, he relaxed his hold on her and smiled up at her. "I missed you."
She smiled and kissed him. "I missed you. I like the beard. We need to talk."
To her surprise, he nodded and stood up with her still around his waist. "Yes we do." He let her down and then held her hand as he walked around behind the greenhouse and away from the castle. "I have been thinking about how to say this to you for weeks and weeks, and I'll probably get it wrong anyway, but please just listen before you say anything? I'm afraid if I don't get it all out then I'll mess it up and forget to finish later." She smiled and nodded. He was so adorable.
He stopped and turned to face her when they were a fair distance from the greenhouse. "I have to apologize, Luna. I lied to you and I'm sorry. I said I was okay with us not being a couple anymore and that was a lie, though in my defense I didn't know it was a lie at the time. I only agreed to let you go because I want you to be happy, and I was afraid that I couldn't give you that. After being away from you and then seeing you again at Hermione's birthday party, I was forced to admit that I hate myself for letting you go.
Above everything else, I don't want to stand in your way. You're brilliant, and meant for great things. If you started to regret time you spent with me or started to resent me because you felt I held you back, I don't think I could live with that. Even so, when you're not here I started to not be able to stand still. I always felt like something was missing, something important. I couldn't figure out what it was until I saw you at the party, and it was like the rest of the colour came back into the world. I just don't feel right when you're not near.
It's true I want to study Herbology as my job, but I realized there's no rule that says I have to stay in one place to do that. I would rather create a portable greenhouse and follow you around the world and find new and exciting plants as well as new and exciting creatures. I just... I don't want to be without you anymore. I'm sorry Luna, but I think I'm in love with you."
His face was flushed when he finished, his eyes wet with unshed tears, but he faced her despite the fear of her reply. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She melted a little inside, and filled with a surge of warmth for his brave, honest face.
"I was in the midlands last week," She said, "Miles from anywhere, just me and my tent and some Bowtruckles. It's completely illogical, but I had this persistent feeling like I would turn around and see you there. Just out of the blue, for no reason. Like I expected you should be there. I had a foot massage from Harry bloody Potter, and you know what went through my mind? It wasn't happiness, it wasn't sex, it wasn't even feeling lucky. No, I thought 'I wonder if he'd teach this to Neville?' So you see, I realized I'm completely dippy over you too. I couldn't go another day without snogging you senseless, so here I am - even though here is one of the last places I want to be. So I'm reasonably certain I'm in love with you as well, Neville Longbottom."
Neville's bottom lip quivered and tears dropped from his cheekbones, but he pulled her to him and kissed her anyway. The beard leant his soft lips a harshness that tickled her down into her panties, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She melted into him as their tongues danced, and before she knew it the snog was not enough.
She broke the kiss and showed him how she felt with her eyes. "Hogsmeade." She breathed heavily. "We need a room." She said as she bit both her lips and felt her cheeks radiate heat.
A loud CRACK echoed between the empty greenhouses.
8th November 1998 7:10am
Good morning!
Your mum and I have debated and discussed (and argued, if I'm honest), and come to the compromise of Darcy James if you're a boy and Meg Eleanor if you're a girl. That leaves Oliver Malcolm for your brother and Ariel Lily for your sister when and if they come along. If they do though, it'll be a few years. I've explained previously how you were intended and wanted, but a victim of circumstance with regard to your timing.
Speaking of which, today is the day! I'm so excited I can hardly write! In just a few short hours I get to look into your mum's beautiful chestnut eyes and marry her again, this time for the non-magical world.
We've talked about it, and we've decided that even though it will be more difficult, we want to straddle the divide between the muggle and magical worlds. It means being very careful what we do where, and always checking to see if anyone is watching, but we both think the benefits outweigh the negatives.
I will talk more about the differences between the two worlds and our plans to live in both in later notes, I have to cut this one short. I want to make sure you and your mum start the day with a healthy breakfast, you're both going to need it. So much to do! So excited!
Love you,
Dad.
Hours and hours and hours of mind-numbingly boring effort. He'd drunk pepper-up potions, eaten George's prototype Stimulant Sweets, and in the end he'd resorted to slaps to the face to stay awake and focused. It had worked though. Three weeks it had taken, with a few days off to recover from the effort thrown in, but it had worked. Ron waved his wand over his head and recited the incantation quietly, then wore a grin he couldn't see in the mirror.
Ron decided it was probably a good thing to wait near the stupid Portkey invitation. He watched his Mum and Dad as they rushed around in the pre-dawn morning and tried to get dressed up quietly. They probably thought he was still asleep in his room - and he would have been, if he didn't have revenge scheduled. Bloody false friends. Two-faced backbiters.
He was done with them, anyway. A week on, he'd wear his beloved orange and make sure his Cannons never had another point scored on them ever. Stuff Harry bloody Potter and his mousy mudblood. Ronald Bilius Weasley would be a quidditch god and would drip gold and birds wherever he went. Maybe, just maybe, someday he'd give Harry an autograph - if he begged nicely.
His Mum and Dad finally finished their preparations and his Mum took the invitation down from the mantel. His Dad was about to pinch a corner of it when he backed off and whispered "Camera!", then tiptoed over to where they'd left the camera on the kitchen table. He pinched the corner of the invitation when he returned with the camera safely stowed in their bag, and nodded to his Mum.
Ron reached out and pinched the top of the card an instant before his Mum whispered "Activate."
They spun for a long time, longer than any Portkey he'd ever taken, and Ron began to wonder if maybe Harry and Hermione hadn't gone Dark and charmed the thing to just make them spin forever. Just as he'd decided the ride took too long, they landed gently in a grassy meadow on a cliff beside the ocean. The sun was high overhead and warm, without a cloud in the sky. Ron let go of the Portkey instantly and backed away from his parents, who paused to look around at the scene.
"Oh Arthur, isn't it beautiful?" His Mum gasped. His dad took her hand and patted it.
"It's lovely. Just lovely." He said.
Ron rolled his eyes. It was a bunch of chairs in a field with some arches and some flowers next to a cottage. Big deal.
Bill and Fleur popped in next. Fleur took one look around and started gabbling at Bill in her native frog-speak. Ron tuned her out. It was a good thing she was heaven to look at, as he imagined Bill's eyes glazed over the instant she opened her mouth.
George and Angelina arrived then, and Ron had to pick his jaw up. Angie looked amazing in a dress. She had her hair all done up with some that spilled down her back, and she looked different than Fleur, but no less delicious. He had to adjust his estimation of her significantly. Not that he would ever get to have any of that, of course. Not with how George's attitude was lately. Lost his sense of fun completely, he had.
A troupe of Goblins showed up next. Goblins! Who the effing fuck invited Goblins to their wedding?! Merlin's Mother! No wonder they'd ended their spectacular friendship, Harry and Hermione had gone fucking mental!
Next to pop into view and start shaking hands was the bloody Minister of Magic himself. They'd met Kingsley during the war when he was still an Auror, but apparently Potter had kept kissing arse just like some slimy snake. That figured.
The chairs started to get used as they made themselves at home, and more people showed up, these he'd never seen before. One older witch who arrived did so with four red-robed Aurors - on duty Aurors. Ron sneered at Potter's obvious Ministry arse-kissery, and looked around for a good place to rain chaos from. He would start with Jellylegs for his former mate. Jellylegs was always good for a laugh. Jellylegs for him, and slugs for her. That'd show her she should've held out for a real wizard, not some backstabbing half-blood bastard.
The field sloped uphill slightly where the cottage was, and he saw that the left side of the cottage had pilings beneath to make it level, and there was space beneath the left half of the porch. He would have to crouch, but it would be perfect to snipe from. A thin wood lattice was all that stood between him and the space, so he quietly pulled it away from its moorings and snuck inside, then propped the lattice back up. Nobody even looked.
Genius. Pure bloody genius.
Ginny growled under breath.
She could see where the wedding was going to take place from where she was, she had arrived facing it, but it was at least a half-mile off. Clearly her Portkey-copying spell needed work.
She took a careful step as she tried not to step on a snail, but her Portkey had dumped her in the center of a carpet of thousands of them. Was it a strange, ineffectual sort of Portkey Ward? It actually seemed like the kind of thing Ron might come up with.
She had no idea why he was so bloody fond of slugs.
She let her mind wonder why there was a carpet of thousands of snails that moved very slowly away from the ocean, and as a result her second step crunched. It sent a shiver up her spine and set her teeth on edge. Then she cursed herself for a fool, and Apparated out of the slowly moving carpet.
"Stupid!" She muttered. "Why on bloody earth there's a massive carpet of snails..." She stopped then, and looked around. Really looked around.
She wasn't in Britain anymore. Britain's cliffs were white, the water dark blue. The cliffs here were red, the water turquoise, and there were bloody snail migrations. It had also been five in the morning when she'd activated the Portkey, but the sun was high overhead. Now it made sense why the Invitations had specified to activate them at five in the morning - she'd wondered what they'd been thinking to get married so ridiculously early.
She decided to walk to where the wedding was obviously supposed to occur. She could Apparate closer, but she wanted to be stealthy and Apparation was not. She re-cast her Disillusionment and Silence spells just in case.
She realized as she walked briskly through the long grass and brush that it didn't even smell like Britain. It had the same sort of saltiness to the air that Britain's coast had, but there was no rain smell. The ocean here carried undertones she couldn't identify, as opposed to Britain's undertones of cold rain and dead fish. She wondered where she was as she walked. Turkey? Italy maybe? Greece? it was certainly warm enough. She paused to cast a cooling charm on herself before she'd gone a hundred steps. People started to arrive then, and she hurried her pace. No way would she miss her chance.
Just as the group of attendees - including several Aurors and the Minister of Magic - seated themselves, she took up a position to the right of one of the pillars that supported the white arches covered in roses. It was a pretty little setting, she had to admit. Very cozy, very quaint. very cheap. Nothing at all like hers would be. Harry was bloody loaded! She would have the best of everything. Flights of dragons in gleaming armor, a purpose-built magical ceremony hall... her wedding would make witches green with envy for a thousand years.
The thought put a smile on her face that stayed there until Harry came out of the cottage with Neville. They walked right up through all the arches to stand at the right side of the last arch in front of a podium. Professor - Headmistress - McGonagall stood behind the podium with a happy smile clearly evident on her face. Neville stood on Harry's right side, and they both just looked toward the cottage like they waited for something.
Ginny crouched low and took her siphon from her robes. She'd Disillusioned it before she put it in there, but she took the time to cast it again. It would not do to have the thing suddenly visible before she could use it.
She realized as she aimed it at Harry that it was damned difficult to do when she couldn't see it, so she shifted her grip on it and ran her index finger down it's length. She could at least feel where it was aimed that way. Her wand went into the siphon, and she was ready. She'd brought enough vials of love potion and empties for six shots, so she was confident that in no time at all, Harry would be hers. He would ditch the Frizzy, Naggy Librarian at the altar, and grin stupidly at her bedroom ceiling by dinner.
Music began to play then, a stately piece she'd not heard before. It was nice, if again a bit quaint. Hermione came out of the cottage on the arm of some older man she'd never seen before. Ginny was forced to grind her teeth. The Frigid Donkeyfaced Beaver was gorgeous. Her hair had been somehow coaxed into delicate ringlets, piled on her head except for a few that artfully cascaded down her delicate neck. Ginny was fairly certain she actually glowed.
Ginny seized the growling, thrashing envy that roared through her and twisted it into gleeful anticipation. Her Harry would belong to her in moments. Let the Boring Bookworm have her moment, it would make her imminent despair that much sweeter.
Luna trailed behind the Glowing, Henpecking Harridan, with a wide, happy smile on her face. Her eyes never left Neville. Ginny would have thought Luna had better taste, but that was one less witch after her Harry, so she was fine with it.
Finally Bushyhead made it to the podium and the man with her made a show of taking her hand from his own arm and placing it on Harry's. They exchanged a smile, and the man sat down in the front row on the left.
"Dearly beloved," McGonagall addressed the small crowd, "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger in the happy state of matrimony."
Ginny took careful aim.
McGonagall continued, "If there are any present who can give just cause why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Well, that was an invitation if she'd ever heard one.
"Subpono." She whispered. The surge of magic raced away from her, and absolute glee filled her entire being as she saw the Amortentia vanish from its vial.
That was when everything went wrong.
She'd seen Harry's blood before. It was not green. She stared in horror as the empty vial in her siphon filled with thick, deep greeny-blue... something.
Harry whirled to face the crowd and yelled her name. "GINNYYYYYYYYY!!! I LOVE YOU!!!"
The Gormless Glowing Granny pulled her wand from her wedding dress and began casting in random directions, just as a bright orange bolt hit Harry in the chest, and his legs began to wobble as though they were made of putty.
The four Aurors and the witch they'd accompanied began to spray the area with spells, as did Shacklebolt and Professor Flitwick.
A greasy, sickly yellow bolt slammed into the bride, and she doubled over immediately as she vomited slugs onto the red carpet. Even so, she ignored it and slung spell after spell toward the cottage between waves of slug vomit.
Too much happened at once, and Ginny was unable to keep track of it. She felt a spell slam into her side as she dove for cover, but it was too late. She could see herself.
"GINNY!!!" Harry's voice cried with glee. He began to throw chairs out of his way as he raced toward her. She looked up just in time to see two bolts headed toward her, and she knew she had no chance to dodge either. Shacklebolt and one of the robed Aurors both hit her with their spells and immediately she seized up, unable to move.
Harry threw himself on top of her and kissed her. He kissed her lips, played with her hair, nuzzled her neck and fondled her breasts before he was pulled bodily off her by two of the robed Aurors.
"Let me go!" He complained, "I need to be with her! I love her! We're meant to be!"
One of the Goblin guests put a pair of manacles around Harry's ankles, and one of the Aurors lashed him to a chair via Incarcerus.
The Aurors who stood over her picked her up and set her into a chair as best they could, and proceeded to pat her down. They took her wand, her siphon, and her pouch of extra vials.
All four Aurors left then to go sweep the area, as the witch they accompanied ordered them to do. The Bitchy Beaver Bride was given a potion, and she stopped heaving up slugs. Bushy Bitchy Britches rinsed her mouth out with some light green liquid, and Ginny was sad to note she hadn't gotten any vomit on her dress.
Wobbly-legged Harry wobbled his knees back and forth in the chair and made moogly eyes at her. At least that was done. It didn't matter if she were arrested now, Harry loved her. He would fix it. He was loaded. Even if he was some kind of... something... with green blood now.
"What are you even doing here?!" Her mother screeched.
"Great." Ginny thought, "Another screaming hissy fit from mum. Just what I need."
It never came. Her father had his hand on her arm, and he sat her down gently in one of the chairs. She sat and held her tongue. Ginny had never seen her father so angry. He stood there red-faced, his fists clenched and quivered as they went white. His eyes blazed with fury and disappointment as they bored into hers, and then he... turned his back on her. He slowly and deliberately turned to face the opposite direction.
Her mother clapped her hands over her mouth and began to cry.
Bill let go of Fleur and looked at Ginny for a long moment, then shook his head. He too then stood and turned his back on her. Fleur just stood in front of Bill and talked to him in low tones. George put his arm around Angie's shoulders, and they both turned to face the other way.
Finally, with an agonized look and tears in her eyes, her mother stood and put her arm around her father's shoulders as she faced the other direction and sobbed.
Someone started to scream.
Ron laughed out loud. "Take that, you selfish prick!" He jeered. "You posh, manky, tosser! Serves you right, ditching your best mate!" The sight of Harry as he stumbled about and knocked into chairs while his legs went different directions was priceless, utterly priceless.
"Slugulus Eructo!" His second spell hit Hermione right in the chest. "There you go too, bloody munter slag! You could've had all this, at least for a while! Not anymore! You're cut off!" He laughed again as she doubled over and heaved up slugs and slime. He watched her and laughed while she alternately heaved up slugs and cast spells in his direction. Every time she tried he laughed harder and harder.
Then she hit him.
He stopped laughing instantly as adrenaline spiked through him, driven by the fear of what the spell might have been, but he relaxed after a second. He wasn't petrified, he wasn't stunned, it wasn't even a jinx, hex, or curse. All she'd cast at him was Finite. She'd cancelled his invisibility, that was all!
He laughed again. "Way to waste a spell! For a smart bint you're bloody stupid!"
He never saw who cast the second spell, but he did feel it as it washed over him and locked up his whole body from his chin to his toes. Suddenly deprived of the muscles he used to balance himself, Ron slowly toppled backward and rolled onto his side.
"Who's the greasy sneak?!" He demanded. "Poxy bloody wankers!"
As he lay on his side, faced toward the darkness beneath the cottage, his eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom. As they did, he became aware that the ground and the ceiling - the floor of the cottage - in the back corner moved.
He watched as the seconds ticked by, the movement slowly, inexorably, crept toward him. Only when the thick carpet of whatever it was undulated close enough to him to exit the shadows could he see what it was.
Spiders.
Hundreds of thick, brown, fuzzy, dinnerplate-sized spiders.
He felt tiny touches on his legs.
He watched smaller spiders crawl over the backs of the bigger ones as they neared his face.
Tiny touches on his hands.
"Go 'way." He whispered, unable to use his voice.
Tiny touches in a scramble up his arm. Tiny touches on his stomach under his shirt.
The biggest spider he could see stopped inches from his nose and reared up on its hind legs. Ron felt his bladder let go. Little spiders climbed up the big one and jumped from it to land on his face.
Tiny touches on his face and neck, tiny touches in his ear.
Ron began to scream.
"All clear!" One of the Aurors shouted.
A few seconds later, two others responded with "All clear!"
The screams suddenly cut short, and the fourth Auror yelled "Another one under the porch! All clear now!"
A stiff body floated out of the space beneath the cottage, and the Auror cast a gentle wind spell at it. Large brown blobs fell off the body and scurried back under the cottage. The Auror then floated the stiff body into the chair next to her.
It was Ron.
How in Morrigan's murderous minge did peabrain even get there - wherever there was? No wonder her whole plan had been ruined, Stupid had turned up. It didn't matter at this point though, she just had to wait for her Harry to get her out of the mess Stupid had made.
The older witch who had arrived with the Aurors picked her beautiful siphon up from the chair next to her and sniffed it. Her eyes enlarged and she put it down again and stepped away immediately.
"Amortentia. Exceptionally powerful." She growled.
All four Aurors, Shacklebolt, and every goblin turned to look at Ginny with undisguised disgust.
The door to the cottage opened and a Second Harry exited. He walked straight up to Boring Brown, concern in his eyes.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
She nodded and smiled at him. "Disgusting, but temporary. I'm a bit surprised it was so tame, honestly."
"Thank you so much for doing this." Harry stepped into her and hugged her briefly, then crossed the space to stand in front of Ginny. He picked her siphon up and sniffed it.
"Flowers and parchment. Broom polish. Shea butter. It's Amortentia, isn't it?" His pretty green eyes bored into hers.
She nodded slightly. What the magic was shea butter?
Harry turned to the goblins present. "I'm so sorry, I had no-" One of the goblins held up a hand to forestall Harry's apology.
"As far as I'm concerned, she does nothing but bring honor to her clan." The goblin said solemnly, then turned to stare at Ginny like she was a piece of meat at a banquet. "This one, on the other hand..."
The older witch who stood in quiet conversation with the four Aurors nodded once, then stepped forward. "We should get these two to the station, get them into holding cells so you can get on with the festivities."
Second Harry frowned then, took out his wand and conjured two glass rectangles three feet by three feet by ten feet tall. "Will those do? I'd hate for you to miss out on the fun. You weren't invited to work, you know."
The older witch smiled at Harry. "That's very kind of you, Lord Potter. If it's alright with you, I'm certain we can spare an hour or two."
"Brilliant!" He grinned, "Thank you, Minister. We both appreciate your assistance as well as your time."
The Minister smiled back at Harry, and motioned two of the Aurors forward. One of them pointed his wand at her, and Ginny felt herself float up off her chair, over the arches, and down into one of the glass boxes Harry had conjured. Ron floated down into the one next to her. He smelled of wee.
Second Harry went back into the cottage then, and a Second Frigid Nag came out with him a moment later. She went and hugged the first one - that looked a bit strange - and then hugged First Harry. She and Second Harry then spoke quietly with the rest of the Weasleys. After a moment, her Mum hugged Second Harry and Second Bookish Bint, and they all sat down again. Second Harry went to stand by the podium and talked with McGonagall and Neville while Second Boring Shrew went back into the cottage.
First Harry was released, and immediately picked up a chair and set it down next to her prison, then sat in it with a big smile and his hand on the glass. He leaned over and kissed the glass, then scooched the chair closer and leaned on it as he made loveydovey eyes at her. She would have beamed with triumph if she hadn't seen the second one. Did she bag the real one? A frantic worry settled just beneath her heart.
First Horsefaced Nag went to sit in the crowd next to a skinny wizard she'd never seen before, and held his hand.
It was then, as she surveyed the entire wedding party, the arches, the small dais and the podium thereupon, that Ginny realized that she had potioned the wrong Harry. Furthermore, she realized that the real Harry hated her.
She and Ron had perfect seats to watch the wedding from, and neither one of them could look away.
"Relax mate, you look great." Neville whispered.
Harry stopped fidgeting with his cufflinks and sighed. "Thanks, I'm just... nervous, I guess."
"You're already married, Harry. What is there to be nervous about?" Neville grinned at him.
He shook his head. "I know that, in my head, really I do. It just... It feels official."
Neville shook his head. "You might be able to fool yourself with that tripe, but you can't fool me with it. What are you really nervous about?"
Harry flashed a rueful grin and hung his head before he looked back at Neville. "I'm petrified, Nev. I'm terrified I'm going to bollix it up. She's the best thing in my life, and I need her more than I need air. What if I -"
"Oh shut up." Neville scoffed. "She loves you, you daft git. She loves you. As you are. The only way you could possibly bollix it up is by being stupidly afraid you'll bollix it up. I've watched the two of you dance around each other since first bloody year. Never apart, never understanding you were together. Just relax and be happy, Harry. You both deserve it."
Since first year? There are more important things - friendship, bravery and - Love. She'd been about to say love. Why had he not seen it before?! Always with her head in a book just to save his worthless hide. Even turned to stone she managed to save him. She never left. I'll go with you. She loved him, and she always had. Sunshine turned to ribbons, sewn over sadness and pain. Neville was right, he was an utter turnip. Hermione loved him.
He hung his head again, and took a deep breath. "Sorry. You're an insufferable prat when you're right, you know?"
Neville grinned massively. "Yeah."
Harry grinned back at him.
"You'll be my best mate after I ask Luna?"
"Best Man. Absolutely." Harry shook Neville's hand and slapped him on the shoulder with a huge grin.
The music started then, and he and Neville both turned to look toward the cottage.
Even though he'd seen Gwen as Hermione in her dress... it wasn't the same. Hermione shone. The sun dimmed. Colours paled. Birds sang off-key. She smiled at him from behind her veil, and gravity ceased to exist. Harry knew at that moment, beyond the possibility of doubt, that he had always loved her. The he would always love her. That nothing in the universe could part them. Not sorrow, not hate, not pain, not death. They would be together when time itself was just a memory.
Somewhere galaxies away Headmistress McGonagall said some words. Harry was busy dancing across nebulae with Hermione while she outshone every star.
He was jolted from the universe of her eyes by Neville's elbow. Was this the part where he was supposed to say something? "Never has anything been more beautiful than you, and never were words more true than I Love You."
Hermione's eyes melted and went watery as she looked back into his own watery eyes.
"A simple 'I Do' would suffice, Mister Potter." McGonagall chastised softly.
"I absolutely do." Harry agreed.
"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger -"
"I do." Hermione interrupted. "I did, I do, I will. Now and always."
"Now and always." Harry agreed.
"That's it, my dears. You're married now." McGonagall reminded them.
Harry just smiled as he gazed into Hermione's infinite depths.
"I believe a kiss is traditional?" She prompted after a minute.
Kiss Hermione? Brilliant.
He lifted the veil from her face and draped it behind her, and their faces were drawn toward each other as though all the gravity that had ceased to exist had simply shifted to their lips.
Luna giggled and Neville elbowed him again - twice - before gravity had righted itself enough for Harry to let her lips go. The pink hue of Hermione's cheeks was his new favourite colour.
They were married. For real.
To her absolute delight, her paralysis ended just as her parents re-took their seats.
Ginny pounded on the glass. It didn't ring like real glass though, it was dull and muffled and her fists only made dead thud sounds. The moment the Second Boring Bride came out of the cottage, a frenzy ignited in her chest. It was happening. Her Harry was going to marry that Boring Bookworm whore.
"Dammit!" She shouted, "Let me out! I have to save Harry! Stop this! HE'S MINE! HE BELONGS TO ME!"
No-one gave even the slightest indication they heard her at all.
She continued down the aisle under the arches at her dignified, stately pace on the arm of whoever that was, and then she was there, she was next to Her Harry, as though she had any right to be near him. Ginny pounded on the glass harder. She screamed. Nobody even blinked.
She slumped against the glass and felt queasy. Her Harry was being taken from her right in front of her while she was powerless to stop it. "GIVE ME MY WAND YOU FUCKS!!" She screamed.
McGonagall droned on about love and matrimony, and when the invitation to destroy the ceremony came again, she threw herself against the glass. She pounded and screamed, and nobody paid her any mind at all. McGonagall rolled on without even a glance in Ginny's direction.
She looked over at First Harry as he leaned against the glass from the outside, and he gave no indication he hear her either. She saw a bubble form on the side of his neck. Then another, and another. She stared in grotesque fascination, unable to determine exactly what the bubbles were or why he bubbled at all. The bubbles didn't burst, as bubbles were wont to do, rather they formed and bulged, then receded. Over the course of a few seconds, Harry's skin began to change. His face began to change. He shrank. His ears enlarged and grew pointed. His chest and hips bulged. His skin turned green.
In the span of a few breaths, First Harry became a Goblin. A female Goblin.
As Ginny looked on in horror, the goblin turned and smiled winsomely at her and pressed her lips to the glass in a big smooch.
Ginny shivered then - partially in disgust, partially because that was the instant she realized she would not escape her situation. Harry would not throw money or fame at anyone to get her out of trouble. She was done.
She glanced over to First Bookish Beaver, and her hands curled into fists. Gwenog Jones sat there in a wedding dress and smiled while she leaned on some random skinny wizard. The sting of betrayal danced on Ginny's skin.
At the podium, Her Harry lifted that bitch's veil and kissed her breathless. That was supposed to be her! That bitch had usurped her place and stolen Her Harry from her! That was NOT how things were supposed to go! "GIVE ME BACK MY LIFE!!!" She screamed, "YOU THIEVING CUNT!!!"
She pounded on the glass as tears of frustration and rage dripped from her cheeks, but no-one listened. No-one cared that the Bookworm had stolen what rightfully belonged to her. Spent, Ginny slumped to the ground and hid her face in her knees while she sobbed.
Ron woke up in a box.
It must have been hours they left them there. He wouldn't have minded so much if he'd had a chess set or something to do, but he was bored. So bored. Even worse, there was music inside the cottage and he could see people dance and laugh and have a grand time. They probably had food, too. Loads of it. Piles and piles of delicious, sumptuous wedding food.
His hands went involuntarily to his poor empty stomach. Bloody torture, that was. Cruel and inhumane to keep a boy from the delicious sustenance. He had tried to climb out of the box - there was no lid on it, after all. He'd managed to get his fingers over the lip at the top, only to have a stinging hex hit him right in the digits. Two of the red-robed Aurors patrolled the area with overlapping paths so that one of them could always see him and Ginny. He could see the jabby bastard just waited for him to try again, so he didn't.
After a long time, those two Aurors were replaced by the other two, and those two resumed the patrol. He and Ginny waited and waited some more. Ginny mostly sat on the ground and cried, though he wasn't really sure why. Sometimes she screamed things he couldn't hear, but mostly she just sat like a lump.
Finally, after forever, people exited the cottage. Harry and Hermione, Kingsley, the old witch and the other two Aurors, and the gaggle of goblins all trouped up to their prison cells. He couldn't hear what they said, but the old witch traded some signed and sealed parchments with the goblins, and then with Kingsley. He did manage to catch his own name on the one that went to Shacklebolt.
Harry pulled his wand out after the four robed Aurors had surrounded him and Gin, and their cages vanished.
A spell hit him in the back and he couldn't move. He could still talk though, and that would be enough. Before he could even think what to say however, the old witch who'd brought the Aurors spoke.
"Normally we'd have you two in holding cells for a week or more while the paperwork was filled out and correspondence forwarded, but as we happened to have all the relevant parties here at the party, we decided to just get the paperwork done over a wonderful dinner, with relaxed conversation and tea. Thank you again, Lord and Lady Potter." She paused to nod toward Harry and Hermione.
"Our pleasure, Minister." Hermione smiled. She actually looked pretty good for a bushy-headed bookworm with no chest. Then again, maybe he had just been too long without a proper witch.
The Minister smiled back at her, and turned to Ginny. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, you are charged with seven counts of possession of a Class One controlled substance, possession of a Class One banned item, one count of use of said Class One item and substance with intent to enslave, Attempted Line Theft, Slavery of an Intelligent Being, and Breach of the Melbourne Treaty of Peace.
"The sentences for most of these crimes would be forfeiture of any and all rights until such time as the injured party or parties allowed you clemency, along with probably imprisonment and ruinous fines. Unfortunately, the sentence for such an egregious breach of Treaty is, of course, immediate death. However, in the interests of continued goodwill and pleasant relations between our two nations as well as their abiding pursuit of Justice, our Goblin brethren have graciously allowed this sentence to be commuted to enforced slavery. For the duration of the poison-induced slavery you have inflicted upon Flense, Accountant of the Gobin Nation, you shall henceforth be placed under effects of the very same poison, and named the sole property of Flense, to do with as she pleases. Upon Flense's recovery from her forced slavery at your hand, your sentence shall be re-evaluated."
Bloody slimy Ministry types. That was the problem with them, they never just came out and said what they were on about, they just used words and words and words to try to bamboozle you. Ron was wise to her slick shite, though. He just acted like he hadn't heard a bloody thing. Deal with that, you withered hag.
"If there are no disputes?" The Minister witch asked. No hand nor voice raised. Ron certainly wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.
"Very well. Ginevra Molly Weasley, you shall be taken to the Department of Mysteries where your dose of Amortentia will be administered and you shall be registered as property of Flense."
Property of Lens? He had no idea what that meant, but the way it was said, it couldn't be good. Strangely, Ginny didn't put up a fuss. He hadn't expected that. Normally Gin was the one to whine and screech and raise such a kerfuffle that Mum and Dad caved just to get her to shut up. He, on the other hand, had of necessity cultivated his roguish charm in order to talk his way out of trouble. All he had to do was open debate on the topic of right and wrong, and he would win his freedom in no time.
He was a master debater.
He turned to the old witch - Minister witch - and smiled his winningest smile, covered with a generous ladle of naughty scamp. She frowned at him and clapped him in irons, then handed him over to Kingsley. "Your crimes, unlike those of your sister, broke no international laws or treaties young wizard. You will be remanded to Minister Shacklebolt's custody, pending your own trial."
That avenue closed in a hurry. Ron cast about for any sympathetic face, any port in a storm. His gaze settled on Harry.
"Harry, c'mon mate, we're best mates! Think of everything we've been through together!" Ron smiled like it was second year, like they were invincible outlaws who flaunted the rules and looked smashing doing it.
Harry's smile fell from his face and he frowned at Ron. "Harry? Who's Harry? My name is Lame Duck. I do seem to recall dragging a whingeing, spineless, bottomless stomach through school though now that you mention it. When things got tough, he went home to his mummy so she could look after him and only returned when he thought there was something to gain from it. He made a tiny contribution that anyone could have done and flogged it about like he was some kind of hero. Even worse, he crowed his own magnificence to every magazine and newspaper that would listen, AND LEFT HERMIONE ALONE." He shouted the last right in Ronald's face, his green eyes ablaze with fury.
Ronald flinched away, suddenly aware how Harry had intimidated Voldemort. He chuckled nervously and grinned as though Harry talked about someone else. "Come on, mate." He grinned, "Don't be like that, we had loads of fun! We're the best best mates if ever best mates there was! Come on, Hare..."
Harry did relax then, but it was an icy calm. Gone was the anger, frustration, and pain, replaced by a level, frosty gaze. "I'll return the favour Ron, and abandon you now. After all, I'm not much good, am I? Have a nice life, Ronald. You're on your own now. I'm going to go be stiff for my bookworm."
Ronald's face sank into a pout as he looked at the floor. His eyes flicked up at Harry just before the Aurors started to march him off, to gauge whether his pout was effective.
Harry and Hermione had turned their backs on him and walked toward the cottage as they smiled at each other. Hermione had a handful of Harry's bum.