Through His Mother's Eyes

Chapter Seven - Catastrophes for All Occasions

Ginny stepped out of one of the many fireplaces in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic building in London, patted the dust from her robes and set off to locate her husband. As she boarded a lift, she wondered if maybe she should have notified him that she was coming; it'd be just her luck that Harry and Ron would have decided today was a good day for lunch away from the office.

When she reached the second level, where the Auror Headquarters were located, she walked to where Harry's and Ron's cubicles were situated, and glanced inside. She noticed first that their desks were unoccupied, then that Ron's was an utter mess. Parchment was practically stacked ceiling-high in several chaotic piles and about seven or so interdepartmental memos were fluttering about just above Ron's chair, awaiting his return. Ginny laughed as she read the small sign posted on the wall behind her brother's workstation, alongside his Chudley Cannons calendar and a family photo of him, Hermione and Reid: You don't have to be mental to work here, but it helps.

Harry's desk, by comparison to Ron's, looked quite orderly. Ginny knew better, however; Harry had the habit of making piles of things so that they displayed a neat appearance, but just ask him where something was in those tidy piles and he would have to shuffle through them for about an hour. It was a blessing that his and Ron's jobs weren't balancing on their ability to file paperwork.

Ginny strode over to a woman with honey-gold hair who was leaning against the outside of one of the cubicles, hiding behind a copy of The Quibbler and reading quite intently.

"Excuse me," said Ginny. "Can I leave a message for my husband with you?"

"I imagine so, but why not just hang around here with me until the old bloke gets back?"

The woman didn't budge from behind the magazine, but Ginny recognized her voice straightaway.

"Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Ginny!" Nymphadora Tonks lowered the magazine and grinned. Today, her eyes were sparkling violet and her nose was a cute button-shape.

"I didn't recognize you!" said Ginny.

"I get that all the time," said Tonks, shrugging her shoulders as if she hadn't the slightest notion why, on occasion, people failed to recognize her. She winked a long-lashed eyelid and grinned. "But honestly - don't just leave a message! Stay here and have a chat until Harry gets back. He's off with everyone else, taking lunch ...and I would have joined them, but I had to meet a witch in Berkshire about an investigation at a potion plant. Some tosh about poisoning and malicious intent, but I reckon they had some git forget to put ingredients in a batch of bath salts or something. At any rate, I only just got back, and lucky for me I had some Chocolate Frogs stashed in my desk or I wouldn't have had a thing to eat!"

Ginny's mind flickered to the letter James' teacher had sent her mentioning Felicity Cartwright's condition and wondered if she was the witch Tonks had gone to Berkshire to interview or not. But she forgot all about that when Tonks flashed the article she'd been reading in The Quibbler at her.

"Have you seen this?" asked Tonks. "Just came out today...these are friends of yours, aren't they? Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom?"

Ginny looked at the title of the article and wasn't surprised a bit: Planning the Wedding of the Century: A Fairy Tale Come True for Editor's Daughter.

"I haven't read or even seen the article, but I got this from a post owl about an hour ago," said Ginny, reaching inside her robes and retrieving a silver envelope. "It's a wedding invitation...it's actually why I'm here to see Harry." She pulled out a piece of silver parchment and handed it to Tonks to read.

"Oh, a hilltop ceremony!" exclaimed Tonks as she read the invitation. "I love outdoor weddings." She sighed.

Ginny looked at her in surprise for a moment, then laughed. "I never imagined you were such a romantic!"

"Ah, well..." said Tonks, getting a faraway look in her purplish eyes. "So, Stoatshead Hill...where exactly is that? I've never heard of it."

"Right outside the village where I grew up, Ottery St. Catchpole," said Ginny, taking back the piece of silver paper. "Luna's from the area, as well."

Tonks nodded and glanced back to the magazine. A look of dawning came upon her. "Hmm...I just caught that part," she said, pointing to midway through the very lengthy Quibbler article. "And you and Harry are mentioned--" Tonks continued to survey the article. "Did you realize you were Matron of Honor and Best Man, respectively?"

"Er - let me see that," Ginny said in surprise. She had no prior knowledge of such a thing, and it wasn't that she objected. It was just that it would have been a good thing if she'd been made aware of it first. She scanned the words:

Choosing the proper attendants is a must for any nuptial ceremony, as Luna Lovegood well knows. Sources confirm that Ginny Potter will serve as Miss Lovegood's Matron of Honor; Ginny's husband, Harry Potter, will stand in as Mr. Longbottom's Best Man; and the Potters' son, James will be ring bearer. Other attendants include Hermione Weasley as bridesmaid and her husband, Ronald, as groomsman.

Ginny stared at the magazine in awe. "Fifty Galleons says Ron and Hermione haven't got a clue about all of this either!"

"A clue about what?" Ron's voice cut across the Auror offices.

Ginny turned to see her brother and her husband striding over to join them. "About the fact that we're in a wedding," she said.

"Whose wedding?" asked Ron incredulously. "Don't tell me Charlie's finally settling down..."

"Not that I know of," answered Ginny. Though, she knew, when Charlie finally did settle down, her mother would be a completely happy woman.

Harry gave Ginny a quizzical look and asked, "Who is it that's tying the knot, then?"

Tonks held up a two-page, color photo of a nervous-looking Neville and a languid-looking Luna, holding hands in front of a huge display of white dress robes at what Ginny recognized to be Gladrags Wizardwear in Diagon Alley.

"Longbottom!" shouted Ron. He gave a loud whoop. "It's about bloody time!"

"All right over there, Weasley?" said an Auror who had just arrived back from lunch and was walking by.

Ron ignored him. He grabbed The Quibbler from Tonks and grinned at the photograph. Then he closed the magazine abruptly and scowled at Ginny. "What's this about us being in the wedding...news to me, that is!"

"News to me, too," agreed Ginny.

"Reckon we ought to get to the bottom of this?" asked Harry.

"I reckon so," replied Ginny.

"We'll take care of it after work," Harry confirmed.

***

Neville's flat looked like a cross between an antique shop and a greenhouse. Thick, green vines hung from hanging pots and draped across the back of an old-fashioned sofa that had lion's claws for feet. An array of small, traditional-looking tables stood in front of the large picture window; some of them displayed pewter picture frames with sepia-toned photographs inside; others displayed hand-painted porcelain teapots which were used not for serving tea, but for potting odd varieties of plants.

Ginny took a seat in the middle of the sofa; Harry and James sat on either side of her.

"Luna should be here any time now," said Neville, wringing his hands. "Can I get you something while we wait? Tea? Pumpkin juice?" He made his way to the tiny kitchenette and rummaged around; Ginny heard the clatter of glassware and next second, a crash as something shattered on the marble countertop. "Damn!" Neville muttered. "Reparo!"

"Can I give you hand with anything, Neville?" Ginny called.

"No, no - everything's under control!" Neville called back. "The day's not complete until I've broken something. Honestly, some days I feel as if I should just toss a dish or something on the floor at breakfast, just to have it done with it!"

Harry chuckled, and reached over to seat James on his lap; James was beginning to get antsy and had tried to pull Neville's hanging vines onto his head.

"So, what'll it be?" Neville called again. "I've found some butterbeer, if you'd prefer that."

"Tea is fine," answered Ginny, looking at Harry to make sure he concurred. "And some pumpkin juice for James, I think."

A few moments later, Neville emerged from the kitchenette, balancing a silver tea tray on one hand and holding up the other so he could check the time on his watch. Ginny held her breath as the teacups and glass of pumpkin juice wobbled, but she was relieved to find out (as Neville set the tray upon the coffee table), that not a drop of the beverages had spilled.

"Help yourselves," said Neville, checking his watch again. "Where is she?" he muttered under his breath.

"Relax," said Harry, before taking a sip of his tea.

Pop!

"Hello," said a serene voice.

Luna had arrived.

Neville looked immensely relieved. He darted to her side, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "I'll get you a cup of tea while you explain everything." He was into the kitchenette again so quickly, Ginny could have sworn he'd Apparated in there.

Luna slid into an ancient-looking armchair and sighed. "Work was very difficult today," she said, sounding not the least bit miffed by her own statement. "Neville tells me you've read the newest copy of Daddy's magazine, have you?"

Ginny looked at Harry. His face was unreadable, except for his eyes, which had turned into two very large, green orbs. She could tell that Luna's nonchalant-ness was getting to him. The same went for Ginny. It wasn't exactly customary to ask people to be in your wedding by way of printing it up in a magazine article. What was Luna thinking?

Ginny was about to find out.

"It was a faux pas, having that article published in this month's edition," said Luna calmly as she toyed with an unusual strand of beads (tiny turtle-shaped ones) that hung around her neck.

"A what?" asked Harry, allowing James to plop down on the floor - James had discovered an interesting book called Magical Plants in Mountainous Regions that contained loads of pictures and was keen to leaf through it.

"A mistake, right Luna?" asked Ginny.

Luna nodded.

Neville came back clutching two cups of steaming tea. He handed one to Luna and began to nervously sip the second one himself.

"I spoke with the witch who wrote the article last week - I wasn't aware she was interviewing me at the time." Luna took a long swig from her teacup, then continued in a calm manner. "I told her whom Neville and I were planning to ask to be in our wedding and naturally your names came up" - she beamed at them - "but never in a hundred years did I think she would publish that. My father is planning on having a little chat with her about decorum when it comes to putting things into print. You see, he wasn't aware that certain things were off the record when he approved her piece." She took another long swig from her teacup.

"We're really sorry it got printed before we had a chance to ask you!" blurted Neville.

"Oh, it's all right," said Ginny.

Harry nodded consent. "We understand, mate - it was just a little bizarre--"

"A little unusual - to have read it before we heard anything about it," said Ginny.

"Well, what say you?" said Luna in a very languorous tone.

"What say?" spluttered Harry (he was mid-sip).

"Would you lot mind...I mean to say, we would agree if you'd be honored..." Neville was botching his words marvelously, and Harry's tea-dribbling wasn't helping matters.

"What Neville and I'd like to know is, would you do us the honor of being in our wedding?" asked Luna in her ever-placid voice.

***

Of course, Ginny and Harry could do nothing less than agree to be in the wedding ceremony. Ron and Hermione agreed as well, after the matter of The Quibbler "faux pas" had been all cleared up.

The following weekend, Ginny and Hermione (with James and Reid in tow), met Luna in Diagon Alley for an afternoon of trying on bridal frocks. Georgette Gladrag (wife of Simon T. Gladrag, IV; owner of Gladrags Wizardwear) herself met the band of shoppers at the doors and grinned. Ginny noticed that Madam Gladrag's cherry-red lipstick had been applied with skillful precision, broadening the woman's mouth so that it appeared almost clownish. Her cheeks were blushed a rosy-pink, and her eyelids were dusted with a turquoise shade that matched her long robes (she was quite tall) quite faithfully. Her sleek, black hair was yanked back into a tight bun that perched proudly atop her head (adding to her height), and Ginny observed that several straight-pins stuck out of it as if it were a pincushion.

"Welcome, Miss Lovegood! We've been expecting you!" cried Madam Gladrag, oozing with excitement. "I see you've brought your attendants and" - the clown-like grin ebbed away - "children with you." She eyed James and Reid as if they were specimens in a Potions experiment.

"Well, we were going to have my son try on dress robes while we were here, as he's part of the ceremony too," said Ginny, glaring at the clown-faced woman.

"And my son, Reid, had to tag along, as well," said Hermione, looking slightly mortified.

Ginny wanted to tell Hermione that Reid had every right to be there as well, so long as he was well behaved. It was, after all, a public place.

"You see, it's Interdepartmental Quidditch League day at the Ministry, and the Aurors are taking on the lot from the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, so my husband..." Hermione was attempting to plead her case, to no avail.

"Very interesting," said Madam Gladrag dismissively. She waved an impatient hand in the air and beckoned them over to an area in the rear of the shop where a semi-circle of floor-length mirrors surrounded a carpet-covered pedestal. Two uncomfortable looking chairs sat in the area, in between a table that had several copies of Witch Weekly: Bridal Edition scattered across it.

"Prudence will be assisting me today," said Madam Gladrag airily. A gaunt young witch with platinum hair floated to Madam Gladrag's side and bowed her head obediently. "Prudence will be bringing Miss Lovegood a selection of bridal robes to start off with, so if you ladies would like to take a seat -" She looked at Ginny and Hermione and gestured to the uncomfy pair of chairs. "- and in the interim if you'd be so kind as to keep your brood out of trouble."

Ginny was seething. Two little boys were not a brood. She and her brothers, now there was a brood. No wonder Mum never brought us in here when we were little. That and the fact they couldn't have afforded to buy the buttons off of one of Gladrags Wizardwear's over-priced robes...

Ginny plopped down onto one of the chairs - an action she immediately regretted when she was nearly skewered to death by several loose springs. Apparently, Hermione had been likewise impaled by her chair - she wore a very pained expression on her face as she tugged Reid by the neck of his tee shirt to keep him from leaping onto the bridal pedestal.

"This is boring," moaned James, who had similarly eyed the very tempting pedestal and been maternally tsk-tsked away from it. "When can we go?"

"When we're finished," snapped Ginny, who wasn't any more thrilled about being in a pretentious robe shop with the high and mighty Madam Gladrag looking down a foundation-slathered nose at her.

"Do we have to stay here and watch ladies try on dresses?" James asked his mother, looking utterly disgusted at the very prospect.

"No, I don't reckon you do," said Ginny in a hushed tone. "Why don't we let James and Reid amble around the shop a bit, so they're not right under Madam Toffee-Nose's high-heeled feet?" she whispered to Hermione.

Hermione gave Ginny a do-you-think-that's-such-a-clever-idea look, but finally nodded in agreement when Reid began to squirm fitfully in her grasp.

Ginny took James firmly by the shoulders and, in a stern, Molly-Weasley-like whisper, said, "Conduct yourselves like gentlemen, and you be a good example for your cousin by staying out of trouble...you're older!" With those words, Ginny seemingly had a bout of short-term amnesia, temporarily forgetting the proud lineage of troublemakers James (and Reid, for that matter) came from. Her current irritation with Madam Snooty had clouded her usual good judgement.

She swatted James playfully on his backside, ushering him and his younger cousin away from the bridal robe area. The two children sauntered away, as quietly as a pair of dormice, and Ginny watched them as they stopped to look at a display of brand-new Hogwarts robes. She smiled as she saw Reid look gleefully at the mannequin (which was approximately the size of a first-year) donning a jet-black set of school robes embroidered with the very familiar crest of Gryffindor house. Well, at least Madam Gladrag has some taste, Ginny thought as she turned around to observe Prudence clutching an armful of ivory frocks.

"Miss Lovegood," announced Madam Gladrag. "If you would kindly step inside your fitting room." She pulled back a mirror-covered door and showed Luna into a spacious dressing area, complete with more mirrors and a cushiony (and much less painful-looking than the ones Ginny and Hermione had to contend with) chair. Prudence glided into the fitting room and hung a vast array of gowns up for Luna to sort through.

"Can I give you a hand with anything?" Ginny asked of Luna, suddenly remembering Matron of Honor etiquette from when she shopped for bridal things for her own wedding, and for Hermione's. "Clasps, button hooks...?"

But Madam Gladrag waved her hands again, this time (Ginny could have sworn) in disgust. "No, no, no...Prudence will assist Miss Lovegood, dear."

Well, pardon me, Ginny thought as she began to develop a distinct loathing for the color turquoise.

"For you two," Madam Gladrag pointed a long, magenta polish-coated fingernail at Ginny and Hermione, "I have another task."

"And that would be?" inquired Ginny apprehensively.

"That would be to try on bridesmaids' robes, of course!" she said, a note of excitement trilling on every word.

"Okay," agreed Hermione, looking uneasily in Ginny's direction. "Where shall we go to try them on?"

Madam Gladrag whisked a wand out from within her turquoise robes and whispered, "Alohomora!" as she pointed it at another mirror-covered door, this one positioned right beside Luna's. The door swung gently open.

This fitting room couldn't have been more different than Luna's if it had tried. It had about an eighth of the floor space, the only mirror it possessed was on the outside of the door and even if it had had one of the murderous chairs in it (for it had none), there wouldn't have been enough room left within for a person.

"Who would you like in there?" asked Hermione timidly.

"Both of you, naturally," said Madam Gladrag in a disdainful sort of way.

Her brain has been pickled, thought Ginny as her mouth fell open. She'd be trying to yank her elbow out of Hermione's eye socket all afternoon if they had to attempt to dress and undress in that cubby hole.

"Couldn't we just take turns?" asked Ginny, using extreme effort to sound calm. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Oh, no," simpered Madam Gladrag. "No, we have other appointments to keep this afternoon and I'm afraid that would take too much time." She snapped her well-manicured fingers sharply and ordered Prudence to bring a selection of robes for the bridesmaids'.

Prudence (who Ginny thought needed a trip to the Leaky Cauldron's all-you-can-eat Sunday buffet) whisked her bony legs off to fetch some frocks, and returned in record time with her scrawny arms loaded down with a multihued assortment of robes made from all sorts of luxurious materials. She hung them on a stand outside the fitting room, since the room itself would have had to undergo a vast amount of transfiguring before anything else could have hoped to fit into it.

And so must Hermione have realized this.

As Ginny and Hermione crammed themselves into the puny room and shut themselves in, Hermione tugged out her wand and said, "This is preposterous!" She waved her wand, apologized to Ginny for nearly gouging her eye out with the wand tip, muttered an incantation, and transfigured the tiny fitting room into one the size of Luna's.

"Impressive," said Ginny, stretching her arms out just because she finally could.

Hermione tucked her wand away, blushing. "I didn't get an 'O' in Professor McGonagall's class for nothing."

Ginny cracked the door ajar and reached an arm through the crack. She called to Madam Gladrag. "We'll take all of the robes at one time, if you don't mind...we know how you have other pressing engagements this afternoon, and we'd like to be as quick as we possibly can." Ginny felt a load of satin, chiffon, crepe and taffeta being draped across her outstretched arm and she muttered a thank-you and pulled the stack of robes in.

Hermione eyed the robes suspiciously. "Some of these don't look half bad, but -" - She pulled the skirt of a bright red one up for Ginny to see. " - some of them leave a bit to be desired."

Ginny sneered at the red robe. "Hmph...you wouldn't catch me dead in that one...who does she think we are? Scarlet women?"

They burst into a fit of laughter.

"Is everything all right in there, ladies?" asked Madam Gladrag doubtfully.

"Just dandy," chirped Ginny. "But we think we'll pass on the red one."

Ginny heard Madam Gladrag scoff through the closed door. "That's not red, my darling...we call that one Bordeaux!"

"My mistake," said Ginny as she rolled her eyes.

Hermione chose to try not-too-bad satiny robes in a color called Whisper (it looked pink to Ginny). The flattering box pleat and lovely beaded v-neck looked quite nice on her. Hermione said (and Ginny agreed) that she could have lived without the color, however. Ginny's choice was satiny a-line robes with a high, sleeveless bateau neckline that plunged into a deep v-back with a modest train flowing behind. It was in a color Ginny approved of very much called Dusk (she would have called it midnight blue).

The pair of them left the confines of their transfigured fitting room to model the robes for Luna, who was wearing a wispy chiffon bridal robe and a veil that completely hid her long, blond hair from view.

"Oh!" Luna cooed when she saw them, in her always-dreamy way. "You two look just like angels."

Ginny smiled. Sure, if angels go around wearing pink and blue satin and trip because the hems of their robes are too long. As if on cue, Ginny tripped over the hem over her too-long robes.

Madam Gladrag yanked a few straight-pins from her pincushion hairdo and began to pin up the hem of Ginny's Dusk-colored robes several inches. "You're quite an undersized little thing, aren't you?" she said as she worked.

Ginny had to really contain her anger not to reach for a few of those pins herself to stick into Madam Gladrag's...

"Ginny's petite, Madam Gladrag," said Hermione with a nervous chuckle. Clearly, she was afraid the ol' Weasley Temper was going to flare up.

Madam Gladrag eyed Hermione's hem and said, "And I see you're not much better off." She laughed disdainfully.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and Ginny noticed it turning purple.

When they had both been pinned, they turned to Luna.

"That's a lovely gown...is it the one you've decided on?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, no," said Luna vaguely. "I think I'll be wearing the robes my mother wore at her wedding, but this veil is quite nice, don't you think?"

"But it covers all of you hair," said Ginny in protest.

"Which isn't such a bad thing," said Madam Gladrag, butting in. She pulled up part of the veil and allowed some of Luna's long, dirty-blond hair to show. "Kind of lackluster, isn't it?"

"I'm certain Luna is going to style it on her wedding day, aren't you Luna?" said Ginny, her blood pressure rising.

Luna gave Ginny a wistful smile and said, "I had planned on brushing it."

Ginny gave up the fight. "How about we try on something else?" she asked Hermione. Hermione nodded.

The next robes in the bridal fashion show weren't as pleasing as the first. Madam Gladrag had all but forced Ginny into donning the Bordeaux-Scarlet-Woman robes (which wouldn't have been so bad in another color), and persisted until Hermione tried on ugly Seamist (also known as pale green) robes in taffeta, complete with rosettes, ribbons and ruffles.

When they emerged from the fitting room feeling like two contestants on Badly Botched Witch Makeovers, Luna spotted them and began to laugh hysterically. "You two..." - snort - "...look..." - rib clutching - "...dreadful!" Luna plunked down in one of the torture-device chairs and laughed even louder. "Oww!" she moaned between bellows of laughter. "That hurt!"

Serves her right, thought Ginny unsympathetically. Though, she probably is more amused with Hermione at the moment.

Hermione was presently occupied with trying to figure out to keep the multiple layers of ruffles on the neckline of her robes off of her face.

"I think these are a no, then," said Ginny flatly. "And I don't know about Hermione, but I really liked the first pair, so maybe we can narrow it down from those two, and in the meantime, have James try something on." Ginny was keen to depart the premises.

"Where is James, by the way?" asked Luna, still with tears in her pale eyes from laughing so hard.

"And Reid?" asked Hermione, glancing around the shop. "I don't see them anywhere." She was beginning to get a frantic look in her eyes.

"They've got to be here somewhere," said Ginny, trying not to get overly anxious. "James!" she called out. "James!"

Madam Gladrag looked blisteringly disturbed at the prospect that the two children were at large in the shop, but before she could utter a sound, Ginny waved a furious piece of red satin at her and said, "Don't get your turquoise knickers in a twist - we'll find them!"

She stomped off calling her son's name - bloody hell; the store wasn't that big after all, where was he already? - with Hermione in pursuit, shouting for Reid. She eyed a section of the shop where many racks were displaying tons of brand-new, long robes and got the notion she had been wangled into a game of hide-and-seek.

Ginny muttered a litany of well-chosen swear words under her breath as she plowed her way through the racks of robes, searching for her son. She tripped over the hem of the Bordeaux satin robes she was wearing and nearly toppled the Hogwarts mannequin to the ground. Hermione - clad in Seamist taffeta - couldn't stop herself in time and collided with Ginny's satin backside, sending the trio of them (dummy and all) careening into a Wizard Workwear display on the other side of the robe shop. One of the arms of the Hogwarts mannequin had come loose and Ginny held it in her hands, ready to whack herself in the head with it for being such an oaf.

Just then, two little heads poked out from within the curtain of robes adjacent the mannequin disaster scene - one with flaming red hair, and the other with a mop of untidy black hair. Both faces looked sheepish, but tried to pull off innocent-looking expressions.

No such luck.

As the band of unfortunate shoppers traipsed back towards the Leaky Cauldron ("No, James I will not explain why we aren't stopping by Florean Fortescue's for ice cream!"), one thing became crystal clear - all further robe-shopping endeavors would have to be held at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.