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  beautiful chapter image by callisto @ TDA


Chapter Six: Mr. and Mrs. Potter


People say that when they get nervous, they get butterflies in their stomach.

Now that’s cute and all, but right now, as I sit in front of a mirror getting my hair done for my wedding, there are bloody dragons flying around in my stomach (and shooting jets of fire up my esophagus, but I think that’s more related to the whole pregnant thing, not the nerves).

“I can’t believe my little girl is getting married,” my mum says softly for the millionth time, her hands still tangled in my hair.

“I know, I can’t believe it either,” I watch her twist another strand back into the half-up-do she’s creating.

“I always knew you’d end up with Harry, though,” she smiles at me in the mirror and I laugh. “Ever since he came out of that chamber with you your first year, I knew.”

A shiver runs down my back as memories of that terrible ordeal tried to surface. I think about the white dress hanging in the corner and they float away. “I never thought he’d actually fancy me back.”

“I knew he would as soon as his mind was clear enough to focus on anything like dating; he was always so damn worried about everyone else, he never had time to really think about only himself and what he wanted.”

“I know,” I answer quietly. She finishes my hair and I see her in the mirror. Standing up, I walk around the chair and pull my mum into a hug, “Thank you for everything, Mum.”

“I’m so proud of you, Ginny,” she pulls back, puts her hands on either side of my face, and kisses my forehead before hurrying out of my bedroom wiping at her eyes. I take a few deep breaths myself, knowing that if I mess up my make up Hermione will probably murder me.

I walk over to my window and see the marquee that had been set up and the flowers and suddenly it really hits me.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

I’m getting married today.

No matter how I stress the words, the sentence still doesn’t make sense to me. Wasn’t it just a week ago I was kissing Harry for the first time in the common room after we’d won the match? And then about three days ago we got back together after the war, and I could have sworn that only yesterday we were moving in together. How, how, can I be getting married to Harry Potter today?

I see him, then, running a hand through his hair and staring at the decorations, just as I was. He looks smart in his dress robes and the smile on my face is taking over before I even realize it.

 He’s marrying me today.


Ginny Weasley has somehow tricked Harry Potter into loving her.

Nothing makes me happier.


“Are you ready?” Hermione asks, standing next to me in the living room of the Burrow. Her dress floats around her legs, the light-yellow fabric shining in the sun. Luna had insisted that yellow was the greatest color for a wedding and because it is a good summer color, I’d just gone with it.

Everyone – meaning family and close friends – is seated outside and I can hear that the music has just started to play. My stomach clenches, but I nod.

“Yeah,” I grin, hugging my Maid of Honor.

“Okay, Victoire, Dominique, are you ready?” I hear Mum ask. The two girls, dressed in light yellow-colored dresses, grin and nod. They both look so beautiful and too adorable as my little flower girls. 

Teddy stands behind them looking so grown up in his dress robes and holding the little pillow with the rings on it as if they were the most important things in the world. I smile and walk over to him, squatting down to his level, “You look very nice today, Teddy.”

“Thanks, Ginny!” he smiles. “Ron told me to make sure I don’t drop the rings because they’re really important so I’m being extra careful.”

I almost laugh at the irony of Ron telling Teddy to mind the rings when he lost George’s in the cake at his wedding. “You’re doing a very good job."

“You look pretty in that dress,” Teddy looks up at me, and I wonder if Harry told him to say that. The little boy’s hair was its trademark blue and his big brown eyes shone out at me, freckles dotting his nose. Either way, this kid is too cute to be real.

I think of Remus and Tonks in that moment and my chest constricts. I hope I’m doing an okay job in my part of raising their son. I hope I could do an okay job of raising my own child. I wish the whole Lupin family were here.

“Thanks, Ted,” I kiss him on the forehead and he pulls a face. I laugh and wipe off the traces of lipstick I’d left.

I heard the music start playing and I stood up, taking a deep breath.

Holy shit.

This was it.

Mum directs Victoire and Dominique out of the living room and down the isle. I watch as my angelic nieces float to the front, the petals they throw dropping to the ground and then rising up in small puffs of colorful smoke that faded quickly. Dominique dumps her basket of petals upside down halfway down the isle and then subtly steals handfuls from her sister until they reach their parents, who are laughing.

Teddy walks next, his little chest puffed out importantly, balancing the pillow ever-so-carefully even though the rings were charmed to stay in place until Harry or I touch them.

“I can’t believe it,” I turn around and see that my dad had just entered from the kitchen. His eyes are red and a bit teary. “My little girl’s all grown up.”

My heart melts. Here was my dad, my dad who had been through so much and fought for us to live in the world we live in, who had lost so many friends and even a son in that fight, who had always been there to protect me – whether I needed protection from a deadly spell or a scraped knee, who was the best dad I could ever ask for, and he was about to give me away to one of the other best men I knew.

“I’ve been grown up for a while, Dad,” I manage to say as I slip my arm around his.

“But never like this.”

I look ahead and see that I’m up next.

“Are you sure about this?”

I shot my dad a look and he chuckles, “Good, because I don’t think I could give you to anyone else. If he can save all of the wizarding world, I guess I could trust him with my daughter.”

I roll my eyes as the wedding march starts and everyone stands up and turns around to look at me and my father.

“You look beautiful, Ginny. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I smile at him and we step out of the Burrow and into the isle.

The marquee is nowhere near as large as it was for any of the other weddings held here, and the crowd isn’t either, but it’s perfect anyway. Everyone is smiling and I look ahead and see Harry.

He’s grinning so widely that it looks as if his mouth might stage a coup and overtake his entire face. I know that mine probably looks the same. Even if someone had offered me all the gold in Gringotts I don’t think I would have looked away from Harry for a second; he is perfect. From his messy hair that everyone had stopped trying to tame to his feet that he liked to press to my legs at night when they were cold just to make me jump, I love this man and I am the happiest, luckiest person on the planet.

Before I know it, I’m up at the front and I hear Mum sobbing as Dad gives me away to Harry. For the first time since I saw him at the other end of the isle, I look away from my soon-to-be-husband and at my dad.

“I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you, too, Gin,” he says, his eyes definitely tearing up now, and kisses me on the cheek before going to sit by Mum.

I look back at Harry, who is still looking at me, mouth half open. “You are the most beautiful person, place, or thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”

I smile wider, “You’ll do,” I tell him. He laughs and leans in to kiss me before the man presiding over the wedding clears his throat and we suddenly remember we’re in front of most of the people we care about.

Yeah, it’s probably better he didn’t kiss me. I don’t know if I would have been able to resist jumping him right here, right now.

I would blame the baby hormones, but this one is all me. … Well, it’s all my incredibly sexy fiancé.


I would have to admit that the actual wedding takes too long, if I were being honest. After we say our vows and exchange the rings, I stand there while the fat man presiding over the wedding talks and occupy myself by looking at Harry and his face and his lips and thinking about the amazing sex we’re going to be having for the rest of our lives. Finally, the fat man pronounces us husband and wife and I get to kiss my husband.

“I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Harry James Potter!” he says joyfully and everyone claps. Mum and Dad and nearly all of my sisters-in-law and even a few of my brothers (George will falsely deny it) wipe tears from their eyes and the place transforms into the reception area.

And then we’re practically mobbed.

“Congratulations, guys!” people are telling us from every side and angle. Not that I don’t love them all dearly, but I feel suffocated and I just want to breathe.

“This way,” Harry pulls me away from the crowd and when we suddenly break free, before I can even process how we got out of there, he’s kissing me and pulling me towards him and doing that and I forget about everything except Harry, Harry, Harry.

After way too short of a time, but what I think was several minutes, he pulls away and I lean my forehead on his. “I love you, Ginny Potter,” he whispers and I wonder why we didn’t do this whole marriage thing sooner.


“Next time you get married, can you try to make it so I can actually drink at the reception instead of babysitting my husband?” Angelina waddled up to me later in the night.

“Oh, I’m sorry, the reception tent has already been set up, we don’t need this second one,” I told her seriously, gesturing to the dress that was covering her very pregnant belly.

“Fuck you, Potter,” she flips me off, and my stomach does that flippy thing it does whenever someone calls me Ginny Potter.

“I’m just kidding, you look amazing,” I hug and tell her sincerely. “I only hope I look that good when I’m nearly nine months.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“No, I’m being serious!”

“Uh-huh,” she says, but she’s smiling. “Where’s the groom?”

“On the dance floor with Victoire and Dominique,” I point to my husband, who is holding one of each of the girl’s hands, with Ron holding each of the girl’s other hands and they dance in a ring-around-the-rosey fashion.

“Those girls going to be able to get whatever they want from anyone they want it from,” Angelina shakes her head.

I nod in agreement and find myself bringing a hand to my stomach and smiling. I can’t wait to see Harry with our child.

“Are you excited for the honeymoon?”

I look over at her, “Honeymoon? Harry and I aren’t going on a –” I stop as I realize she looks horrified.


I smile, “What?”


“Angelina Weasley,” I use what has been called my ‘scary voice.’ Ron says I inherited it from Mum.

“I thought they’d already told you!” she pouts. “You can’t tell them I told you.”


“The whole family chipped in because they knew you two weren’t going to go anywhere on your own with the baby and such, and we got you a week-long trip to this tiny island off the coast of Australia.”

“You didn’t,” I said, so excited that I might explode. Harry and I didn’t want to waste time and expenses planning a honeymoon when we already had so much to do, but… “I can’t believe you guys –”

“Shut up, will you, or they’ll know I told you!”

“We told you we didn’t need or want –”

“Everyone needs a honeymoon. Especially you two, with all the stressful things you’ve been dealing with. Get away, shag it off. It’s not like you can get pregnant a second time,” Angelina grinned at me and I smacked her on the arm.

Then I hugged her again.

“They’re totally going to know I told you,” she muttered as I hugged her as tightly as I could with her large belly between us.

“You better not have that baby while I’m away,” I warned her.

“Where’re you goin’?” George came up behind me. I froze and turned around.

“Erm…” I tried not to look like I knew anything, which was hard when I was still in shock from the news.

“Ang!” George took one look at the two of us and whined, “you can’t keep anything from her, can you?” he shook his head and walked over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

“Sorry,” she said, looking slightly abashed.

“Well, enjoy it little sis,” George patted me on the head as I tried to duck away from him. “What I’d give to go back to my honeymoon. A week of the beach and shag-”

“I’ll be going now!” I announced loudly, backing away slowly before I found out more about my brother’s sex life than I presently knew (which was already way too much).

“May I have a dance with my favorite, annoying little sister?” I bumped into Ron, who, though I’d seen a lot of (he was Harry’s best man), I had yet to dance with.

I grinned and offered him my hand, “You may.”

We made our way to the dance floor as a new, slow but not too slow song started. “You look gorgeous.”

“You clean up nice yourself,” I told him. He opened his mouth to say ‘thanks’ but I cut him off, “I’ll have to tell Hermione she did a good job on you.”

He scowled playfully at me and spun me around, like he used to when we were kids dancing to the songs Mum played. I laughed and fell back into him, “Can you believe we’re all grown up now?”

He made a face, “You, married and with child,” (only Ron would say it like that), “all with my best mate, who you were supposed to be off limits to.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Off limits?”

“Yeah, you know, best mates little sister and all that,” he muttered

I laughed, “As if you ever had a say in who I dated.”

“A bunch of gits, if I remember correctly.”

I coughed something that sounded a lot like Lavender Brown, but no one can prove anything.

Ron blushed and I smiled at him, hugging him closer. “It’s not like you’d have me with anyone else, Ron, face it. Harry’s the only one you trust enough.”

He didn’t say anything, but rested his chin on the top of my head, “I better be the godfather of that baby,” he finally said. “If you pick George, I swear to Merlin –”

“Mind if I trade you, mate?” I looked over and saw Harry holding Hermione close like Ron was holding me.

“Get your hands off my wife, Potter!” Ron grinned and spun me out of his arms and into Harry’s. I heard Hermione giggle as Ron scooped her into his arms dramatically.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Potter,” I said formally. “I was afraid I was going to lose you to one of those other fine girls.

“That could never happen, Mrs. Potter,” he smiled before kissing my forehead and pulling me tight against him. We swayed with the song, just holding each other in silence for a moment.

“Did you hear about the honeymoon?” I asked him.

“As if Ron could keep a secret,” he laughed.

“We check into the hotel tomorrow evening, right?”


“Well, then I’d say we have some time to kill, eh?” I looked up at him, smirking.

“I’d say so. Conveniently, I know of a certain activity that will fill up that time quite efficiently,” he smirked back.


The only thing I hate about Harry in dress robes is how fucking long it takes to get them off. There’s like three layers of clothing between me and the body that I need to feel on my body right now, which a predicament that makes me very unhappy.

We stumble into our bedroom, me down to my knickers (the dress was somewhere in the kitchen, I think), and I slide the robes off his arms and start to tug at the tie and dress shirt he is wearing underneath.

He captures my mouth in another head-spinning kiss and I let out an embarrassing moan, the tie untying becoming one of two things that got much harder. He runs his hands through my hair, down my back, and grabs my arse, pulling me up and into him as he turns and pins me against the wall. Our teeth hit briefly as my back contacts the wall, but I don’t think either of us gives two shits.

I finally yank the tie off and plunge my hands into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. I break away from his mouth and start trailing kisses up his jawline and down his neck.

“Merlin, his breath is hot on my shoulder and suddenly my back support is gone and Harry spins and nearly throws both of us onto the bed. He kisses my neck and my chest as I fumble with the buttons on his shirt before giving up and pulling hard so they all pop off.

Close enough.

I reach my hands under his shirt and pull his warm body so his stomach finally contacts mine and I arch into him. I gain leverage and pull his shirt off of his arms as I flip us so I’m on top. I grind my hips into his over his boxers and he closes his eyes.

“Ginny Potter, you are amazing,” he says before pulling me down and kissing me until I don’t remember my own name.

For some reason, the fact that I’m now married to this man and will be doing this, him, for the rest of my life is incredibly sexy.

I’m probably screwed up in the head.

Though, with the way this is going, that’s not the only way.


“We’re married.”


“And going to have a baby in five months.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, cuddled up against Harry in bed an hour or so later.

“Are you happy?”

I look up at him, surprised that he could ask such a stupid question, “Of course I am. I love you.”

He smiles, his green, green eyes shining. “Good.”


“And I love you, too.”

I smile and cuddle back up to him, “Good.”

We lay there for a few more minutes, soaking up everything we’ve been through in the last month, in the last year, in the last ten years. “Harry?”


“We should build a house in Godric’s Hollow.”

I feel him move, and sit up a bit. I look up and see him looking down at me, “Are you serious?”

I nod.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“If it’s what you want, then yes. I think it’d be nice to be close to both your family and mine.”

“You’re amazing,” he leans in and kisses me. I smile against his lips.

“That’s what I hear,” I smirk.

He kisses me lightly again and then settles back against the pillows, smiling. Everything is peaceful and resolved and I can tell that he’s drifting off to sleep…

So I press my cold feet into his leg and he squeals.

I laugh, hugging him tighter, and for the first time since I started vomiting on the Quidditch pitch, I really feel like everything is going to work out.





A/N: I'm a terrible person. I know. I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me and maybe even review? Please?

You guys are awesome. You keep me going.

over and outt.


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