Unconventional Commitments
Chapter Eighteen
An Unconventional Wedding
Getting two women ready for a wedding in an hour is no easy task, let me tell you. Hermione literally went crazy for about twenty minutes. But I'm ready, and she looks absolutely beautiful, so it all worked out, I suppose.
Okay, and so maybe it took closer to two hours…but that is really to be expected. I finish the last charm on Hermione's hair as she flashes me a nervous glance.
"Won't the Ministry fine you for using magic in a highly populated muggle area?"
I shrug. "It's your wedding day. What do I care if I get a few fines?"
She gives me a grateful look and doesn't say anything else.
"Well, I think you're ready," I say as I nitpick at her hair.
She stands and adjusts her dress robes. "Am I?"
I know that she means that in two ways, so I smile and answer both of her questions with, "Yes. You are gorgeous and you are ready to be married."
"We don't have a place to live," she says suddenly. "We were house hunting but we got in an argument over muggle neighborhoods and wizarding neighborhoods and we stopped. Where are we going to live, Ginny?"
"You can either live at Ron's apartment or here. You have time, Hermione. You can be married and not have a house."
"Right," she says. "We could live at Ron's flat for a while."
I flinch slightly at her choice. I'm going to miss her half of the rent money. Oh well. I'll manage. Maybe I'll move, actually. I don't really like muggle living, anyway…I'll think about it later.
She's pacing again. I quickly grab her shoulder to halt her. "You are going to wrinkle your robes," I reason.
She nods. For being the smartest person I have ever known…she has been acting rather silly for the past few hours. Not that I blame her, of course, it is just nice to see Hermione less than brilliant every once in a while.
"We should go over to Ron's," she says after a moment. "I told him we would meet him there when we were ready to…you know."
I smile at her. "Let's go, then."
I wait for her to apparate before me, only she doesn't. "Hermione," I say, "are we leaving?"
"I don't think I can. What if it doesn't work out? My mother isn't here…Oh, God. She is going to slaughter me when she finds out. And my dad won't be there to walk me down the aisle…there isn't even going to be an aisle!"
I see that she is about to start hyperventilating again, so I race out of the room and grab the only thing that I can think of. I run back into her bedroom and hand her the bottle of Firewhiskey that I had hidden in the kitchen cabinet.
She takes it awkwardly and stares at the bottle.
"Take a drink," I say almost desperately. "It'll calm your nerves."
She takes a breath and then takes a giant drink out of the bottle. I didn't mean for her to chug it! I flinch as she drinks more and more of it. I finally grab the bottle back from her.
She smiles at me sheepishly as I raise an eyebrow at her. "I didn't mean for you to drink that much of it. I wanted you to calm your nerves, not be pissed drunk for your wedding!"
"It's fine," she assures me. "I don't even feel anything. I just need to sit down for a moment."
She sits as I resist the urge to pace myself. She can't be bloody drunk…Ron will kill me! I look over at her. She doesn't look drunk. Maybe she is fine. I keep telling myself that she is fine and about ten minutes passes as I wait for any sign that she will continue to be fine for the rest of the day.
"I don't feel funny at all," she announces.
"That's good," I whisper.
She stands suddenly…and promptly falls down. She laughs while on the floor, "Whoops," she exclaims.
I smack a hand to my forehead. Okay, so maybe it did affect her. I pull her off the floor as she continues to laugh. "Hermione," I say in a panicked tone, "you cannot be drunk right now."
"I'm not drunk," she says. "I'm just…calm." She starts to laugh again. She suddenly leans closely to me and lowers her voice, "If I tell you a secret, promise not to tell anyone?"
"I promise," I say reluctantly.
"I can't hold alcohol very well," she says into my ear.
"No kidding," I respond.
"Ginny," she says as she falls back onto her bed, "I do believe I am slightly drunk."
Slightly? She didn't have that much Firewhiskey, did she? I look at the half empty bottle. Did she really drink that much of it? Oh my. She is going to hate me for ruining her wedding. I really thought it might help her…but she was only supposed to take a small drink, she wasn't supposed to down half the bottle!
"Let's go," she says as she stands. "I am ready to marry….whatshisface."
"Ron," I correct with a cringe.
"Right. Ron. I love…Ron. Yep. Love him, love him. I had a dream about Ron, you know. Waaaaay back in fourth year. Dreamed that we were married and we had a baby. A boy. And I've loved him ever since."
Even though I am fairly panicked at the moment….I have to admit, I rather like drunken Hermione. I wonder why I didn't think to get her drunk a while ago.
I wonder if her dream was like mine, though. I bet so. At least I can feel a little better now. She had a dream, too. So it must be normal. You dream of your future with the man….you're….meant…to…marry. Oh my.
I'm meant to marry Harry?
I mean, I knew from my conversation with my mother that that is what the dream is supposed to mean. But it just never clicked until right now. That's what it means? That Harry and I are supposed to be together, forever?
I didn't think I was meant to be with anyone forever. I sit back down on Hermione's bed. That was the future. That was my future. My future with Harry. We have twins. We have a third baby, too. I feel dizzy.
So it's irreversible, right? I don't know. I mean, is the future set in stone? Can it be changed? Do I want it to be changed?
"Ginny," Hermione is saying with impatience. "C'mon. Let's go."
"Right," I say after a moment. "Time for you to get married."
"Yep," she responds happily. "To…"
"Ron."
"Ron. I knew that. I did."
I nod at her complacently, "I'm sure you did."
"I'm going now," she says.
She apparates before I can remember that it isn't a good thing to apparate drunk. "Shit!" I yell aloud before apparating myself to Ron's flat in hopes that she made it there in one piece.
I look around immediately after arriving. Thank God she is sitting on his couch. I place a hand over my fast beating heart—I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if she had splinched herself trying to get here.
"Ginny," I look over and see Harry staring at me intently. "I am so glad you are here."
I smile at him, "And why is that?"
He leans over and whispers in my ear, "Because Ron is halfway drunk."
"Hermione is drunk," I respond back into his ear.
Harry starts to laugh. "Some Best Man and Maid of Honor we are…couldn't even keep the bride and groom sober for the wedding."
"Harry, it isn't funny. What are we going to do?"
He waves a flippant hand, "I have it covered." I follow him into Ron's kitchen as he starts pulling various items out of cupboards. "I know a sobriety potion. Siri—" he stops short. No one really mentions Sirius around Harry…after he died, Harry always took it so badly whenever his name was brought up, that everyone just stopped. I don't think he's even said Sirius' name aloud more than a handful of times. Downright unhealthy, if you ask me…but everyone mourns in their own way, I suppose.
I place a hand on his shoulder for comfort.
He takes a breath. "Sirius gave me the recipe for it before…you know."
I nod at him. "So you have it memorized, then? Used it quite a bit, have we, Harry?"
He grins, grateful for the slight subject change. "A few times, I admit."
I stare at him as he brews, "And here I thought you were bad at Potions."
"I'm only good at the important ones," he laughs.
I smile back at him as he adds more ingredients into the pot. "There we go," he says triumphantly. "That just needs to simmer a bit and we will have a very sober Ron and Hermione."
"Good. I doubt Hermione would ever forgive me if she were too intoxicated to remember her own wedding."
He nods. "It should just be a few more minutes. So…how are you?"
I bite my lip. What am I supposed to tell him? Well, Harry, it turns out that I have dreamed of our future not once, but twice. And we have two point five kids and live in a really nice house. Weird, huh? Right, because that conversation wouldn't be awkward at all.
"I'm fine," I say finally. "How are you?"
He shrugs. "Good. But I did want to talk to you…after the whole ceremony, that is."
"All right."
"Potion's done," he says to break the silence. He produces two glasses and puts a fair amount of the thick green concoction in each. He hands me a glass, "You find a way to get Hermione to drink this and I'll get Ron."
I take the glass and go back into Ron's living room. Hermione is now on the floor, sitting and staring at the wall.
"That wall is ugly," she says to me without looking.
I take a breath and hope for the best. "Here," I say as I hold the glass out to her. "Drink this."
"What is it?"
"It's good. Just drink it fast."
"Is it alcohol?"
"Maybe. Just drink it."
She shrugs and takes a large gulp of the drink, before promptly coughing loudly and pounding her chest dramatically. "What is that?"
"Trust me; you probably don't want to know. How do you feel?" God, I hope she is sober. Please be sober…please.
"Fine," she says after the potion settles in for a moment.
"Hermione, I—"
"What in the bloody hell are you trying to do, Harry?! Kill me?" We both stare down the hallway where Ron's yell came from.
Hermione blushes as she looks back at me, "Sobriety potion, correct?"
"Yes. Harry made it."
She nods. "So Ron was…"
"Yeah, it seems that way."
"Some couple we make," she muses.
"You were both nervous. It's understandable, you know. It all happened suddenly, this wedding, of course you would get jittery…but you're both fine now, so no harm no foul, right?"
She opens her mouth to respond, but we both fall silent as Harry appears in the living room—his face covered in his own potion.
"So I take it Ron didn't drink the entire glass?" I ask with a sweet smile.
He scowls and heads for the bathroom.
After I make sure everyone is cleaned up, we apparate to the Ministry. It dawns on me suddenly that I am the one that was running about Ron's flat, cleaning off faces and straightening out robes…
I am turning into my mother. Great. Memo to self: do something highly irresponsible tonight to even all this out.
I shake away my thoughts as I notice that everyone is staring expectantly at me. I look down at the floor sheepishly, "Uh, did you say something?" I ask Harry and Hermione. Ron has temporarily disappeared.
"Harry asked if you knew who was performing the ceremony," Hermione says helpfully.
"Oh. No, I don't know."
"Neither do we," Harry says. "Ron just told us that he took care of it."
I can see Hermione paling at the thought of Ron scrounging up just anyone to perform the ceremony. No doubt she has some horrid mental pictures going on at the moment…
"I'm sure he found someone suitable," I tell her reassuringly. At least, I hope he found someone suitable. For his sake, really, the whole thing could turn into a disaster with some low Ministry official stumbling through the ceremony and ruining it.
Ron comes back into the room, appearing frazzled. "He's here," he says with a smile. "We can start in a few minutes."
"And who is 'he'?" Hermione asks with pursed lips.
"Oh, just someone I persuaded at the last minute," Ron responds vaguely.
I cringe. This could be bad. I lean over to Hermione and whisper into her ear, "It's okay, Hermione. Just as long as you're married, right? That's all that matters."
She nods. "I know. It will work out, I'm sure."
I smile encouragingly at her as the door opens…and Dumbledore walks in. My jaw drops in shock and I sneak a glace at Ron, who is smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
"Headmaster," Hermione says finally, "What a pleasure to see you."
Dumbledore winks at her, "I do believe you are old enough to call me 'Albus' Miss Granger."
"Of course," Hermione says. "Are you…" she seems to be afraid to say the words, lest they prove untrue.
"Here to perform the marriage vows? Yes, when Mister Weasley asked me, I simply could not resist the opportunity to marry two former students. It will truly be my pleasure. So, shall we begin, then?"
With no protest, the ceremony begins.
I try to pay attention, I really do…but Harry keeps looking at me. So throughout the ceremony I find myself looking back at Harry. As Hermione and Ron say their vows our eyes lock, and Harry smiles at me and…Well, it gets really hot all the sudden, is all that I can say.
And for a minute, I don't even see Ron and Hermione. All I see is Harry and I hear Dumbledore going through the rituals and…I don't panic. And that kind of freaks me out in itself. I should freak out, right? Because Harry is looking as though he is picturing our wedding in his mind right now. Only…I don't.
I break our gaze and look back at Ron and Hermione. I smile pleasantly at them as the ceremony finishes and Harry and I clap politely along with Dumbledore.
Hermione places her hand over her mouth as she starts to laugh in sheer happiness and Ron picks her up and spins her around once before setting her down on her feet and kissing her. He gently wipes away the tears glistening in her eyes and I am so drawn to the scene that I fail to notice that Harry has moved closer to me.
I jump as his hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I look over to him, though, and calm myself. After all, it's only Harry…
Dumbledore moves away from the happy couple and comes to stand with Harry and me. "You know, Harry," he says, "I married your parents as well."
"I never knew that," Harry responds with a smile.
Dumbledore gives him a knowingly look before glancing over at me as well. "And I am sure that I shall perform your wedding ceremony one day?"
"Uh, yeah, sure," Harry says uneasily.
"Well, if you will excuse me for a minute," Dumbledore says before heading back over to Ron and Hermione.
Harry and I are left to awkwardly stare at each other. "So," I say finally, "Ron and Hermione really did it, then."
"Yeah, looks that way. Look, Ginny—"
I hold up my hand, "No, let me. Please. Harry, I just…I'm sorry. For all that I've put you through. I know that I'm not easy to get along with, I know this. I know that in relationships I'm a royal screw up…but you've just withstood every possible thing that could ever go wrong it seems like and I just wanted to say…thank you."
"Oh. Well, you're welcome. Do you want to…go outside for a minute?"
I glance back at Ron and Hermione, they won't miss us. "All right, sure."
We walk out to the lobby of the Ministry and stand in front of the fountain. I turn to ask Harry if he wants to make a wish, but before I can even get a word out, his mouth is covering mine.
My eyes widen but I do not pull away. I wrap my arms around his neck without thinking and he deepens the kiss. He lifts his mouth from mine but keeps his face close. His arms are still wrapped possessively around my waist…but I barely even notice.
"I just didn't want to do that in there," he says quietly.
"Oh." I respond dumbly.
"Did you mean what you said the other night to Malfoy?"
"Which part?"
"The part where you referred to me as your boyfriend," he clarifies.
I lick my lips unconsciously. I had almost forgotten about that. "Yes," I say softly, "I do believe that I did."
"And your commitment phobia?"
I smile up at him, "How about we just wait and see what the future brings?"
Harry grins in agreement and leans down to kiss me once more. Visions of Eric and Zack float around in my mind, along with thoughts of a future marriage with Harry. And for once…I don't feel so afraid.
A/N—Well, that's it. Lol, I'm seriously biting my nails right now…I hope that all made sense and worked. Thank you so, so, so much to anyone who ever reviewed. I truly appreciate it and all your stories and insights have been delightful, really. Lol, I now know for a fact that I am not alone in my own commitment phobia.
So, Merry Christmas everyone and I really hope that you have enjoyed this story. Review and let me know what you thought of the last chapter but try not to be too brutal, lol…after all, it's Christmas. Ha-ha. Goodnight, all! And I finished this with a whole forty-five minutes left on my deadline…nothing like procrastination. Thanks for reading!