Tree Houses and Daisies

Ginny heard a thumping sound come from the general direction of the front door of the flat. She attempted to put her head under her pillow, but it just got louder. She grumpily threw the bedclothes off and sat up. She looked down at Harry. 'I know you're awake, you git,' she growled, swinging her feet to the floor.

Harry peered through his eyelashes, and when Ginny was almost at the bedroom door, he yawned and stretched in the most ludicrously exaggerated way possible. 'Since you're already up, Gin...'

'If my wand wasn't on the other side of the room, I'd hex you,' Ginny huffed as she went to answer the door. She hated it when someone woke her up early the day after a game. She jerked the door open. 'This had better be good,' she warned, coming face-to-face with Hermione.

'Am I too early?' Hermione looked down at her watch. 'We did say we were going to meet at eleven, didn't we?'

Ginny reached over and grasped Hermione's left wrist, bringing it up to her face. 'Damn,' she swore. It was eleven. 'Come in. I just need a few minutes to get dressed.' Ginny held the door wider and stepped back, letting Hermione into the flat.

'No rush. Hannah said she'd keep a table for us.' Hermione headed for the kitchen. 'Want some coffee before we go?'

'I'd love some.' Ginny went into the bedroom, and gathered some clothes to wear for the day, before going into the bathroom. She pinned up her hair, and took a sketchy shower. Ginny pulled her clothes on, cursing when the denim of her jeans stuck to her still-damp skin.

'You kiss your mum with that mouth?' Harry leaned lazily against the doorway.

'I kiss you with that mouth,' Ginny retorted. 'Why didn't you remind me Hermione was coming over this morning?'

'I did. Right before we went to bed.' Harry took his glasses off, and held them up to the light, then polished the lenses on the hem of his t-shirt. 'You told me to bugger off right before you started drooling on my pillow.' He slid the glasses back onto his nose. 'I've never wanted you more,' he said cheekily.

'I did not!' Ginny exclaimed, scandalized. It was almost as bad as the time Harry told her she snored.

'Hey, I tried to move you to your pillow, but you wouldn't budge. At least I didn't have to sleep in the wet spot you made.'

Hermione's curly head appeared around Harry's shoulder. 'Coffee's ready, Gin.'

Harry looked down at Hermione. 'Set a date yet?'

She gazed up at him in annoyance. 'You're getting worse than my mum and Molly combined with asking about the date.'

'Yeah, but it's fun to watch you squirm.' Harry grinned. 'Is there enough coffee for me, too?'

'You don't deserve coffee,' Ginny called after his retreating form. She gave Hermione an apologetic look. 'I really am sorry.'

'It's all right. Come on, before that greedy husband of yours drinks all the coffee.'

******

Hermione pulled a notebook and ballpoint pen from her bag. 'Do you know when your games are in September? We were thinking about the twenty-seventh.'

Ginny toyed with a piece of pasta. 'I don't think you'll have to worry about that.'

'But, Ginny, you're the matron-of-honor! Of course I have to worry about that!'

Ginny set her fork down. 'I'm not sure...' she began. 'I'm not sure if I'm going to sign my contract at the end of this season.' She picked up the goblet of pumpkin juice and started morosely into it. 'I wish Hannah hadn't charmed the goblets. I could use something stronger right now.'

Hermione scrutinized Ginny's face. 'Ginny... This is Quidditch. You love playing Quidditch.'

Ginny sipped her pumpkin juice. 'Correction. I did.' She sighed and set the goblet back down on the table. 'I like playing it. When I signed with the Harpies, I did it because I didn't know what else to do with myself. I didn't want to work for the Ministry. I didn't want to work with Ron and George. I didn't want to be a Healer. And I really didn't want to work for Gringotts.' She picked her fork up again, and prodded the food on her plate with it. 'It's just not something I can see myself doing for the rest of my life.' She speared a piece of pasta and put it in her mouth, chewing meditatively. 'I think it might be time to pack it in.'

Hermione closed the notebook. 'Does Harry know?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No. And don't say anything. I haven't had a chance to talk to him about it yet.'

'What happened? I mean, why?'

Ginny leaned back in her chair. She was glad she got to talk about this with Hermione before she said anything to Harry. 'I was in Portree the other week for a game. The weather was horrible. Sleet, snow, bitterly cold wind. And I'm in the middle of the bleeding game thinking to myself, "What the in the name of Merlin's bollocks am I doing here?" I was holding the bloody Quaffle, for pity's sake.' She reached for her goblet and drained it in one gulp. 'If I'm going to spend the rest of my adult life doing something, I want to do it because I enjoy it.'

'Any idea what you'll do after this season? If you don't sign the contract, that is.' Hermione propped her chin in her upturned hands.

'I can't stay home. I'll go mad if all I have to do with myself is darn Harry's socks and dust the furniture.' Ginny repressed a shudder. 'I know Mum did that, but I just can't see it for myself.' She paused. 'There is something...'

'What?'

'Do you remember that series I wrote for the Prophet last season?'

'Yeah, it was brilliant! I even liked it, and I don't get Quidditch. It wasn't just about Quidditch, though, you really made even the most mundane thing, like practicing dodging Bludgers sound like fun.'

Ginny grinned. 'The editor of the paper offered me a job. Standing offer if, or when, I ever decide to stop playing.' Ginny twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

'Ginny, that's fantastic! Why haven't you told anyone?'

Ginny shrugged. 'Nothing to tell, really.' She picked up her fork again. 'As of right now, I'm Ginny Potter, Chaser with the Holyhead Harpies, jersey number six. I haven't made any decisions yet.' She took a bite of her cooling pasta. 'Now, then, you said something about the twenty-seventh of September?' she asked, changing the subject.

Hermione flipped the notebook open and picked up the ballpoint pen. 'Right. Do you think your mum and dad will mind if we had it at the Burrow?'

Ginny snorted. 'Hardly. It'll give Mum a chance to throw a big party.'

'All right, then. I'll just ask Molly at lunch tomorrow.' Hermione made a small note in the margin of the notebook. 'Guest list.' She made a face. 'I want to keep it small - like yours was.'

Ginny let out a hoot of laughter. 'That's only because those were the people we could agree on. You should have seen the list before that. The Order, D.A., even the Gryffindor Quidditch team.'

'Wait, wouldn't that mean that Cho and Dean were on the list?' Hermione's eyebrow went up.

'Sadly, yes.' Ginny grinned. 'It got so out of hand; we decided to just invite the family.'

'I'll have to invite your aunt Muriel, won't I?' Hermione frowned. 'At least my dress ought to be long enough to hide my ankles.' She grudgingly scribbled Muriel's name on the list.

'What about your Muggle relatives?'

'It's just my aunt Pam and cousin William. Frankly, I wouldn't care if they didn't come.' Hermione tapped the pen against the page of the notebook. 'I wonder...' A mischievous grin spread over her features.

'What are you planning?' Ginny asked suspiciously.

'I was thinking about putting a Muggle-Repelling charm on the invitation. When they open the envelope, they'll put it down somewhere, and forget about it.'

'Won't your mother be angry?'

'Nope. She's not crazy about Aunt Pam and William to begin with.' Hermione sighed and looked back down at the notebook, filled with anxious scribbles. 'Sometimes, I think George and Katie had the right idea.'

'What? Eloping?'

'Yeah.' A dreamy smile spread over Hermione's face. 'I know a Spanish Ministry official in Barcelona who could do it. Ron would love it, because he wouldn't have to dress up. I won't have to fuss with all these details...' Hermione trailed off, imagining what it would be like to just take off for Spain. Shacklebolt would give them an International Portkey, no questions. They could spend a week in some private bungalow on the beach. But her parents wouldn't be there. Neither would Harry. Or the Weasleys. It wouldn't be right to exclude them. 'It's a nice dream,' she said.

'I still can't believe Ron finally worked up the nerve to propose.' Ginny pointed to the ring on Hermione's finger. 'And I still can't believe he picked that out on his own.' She sniffed dramatically. 'Ah, my ickle Ronnikins. All grown up and getting married!'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'How's this for a dress for you?' She pulled out a swatch of shimmery dark blue fabric and handed it to Ginny. 'I tried to find something that wouldn't clash with your hair.'

'As long as it's not pink, I'm fine with it.'

'What's wrong with pink?'

'Hmmmm.' Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully with a forefinger. 'It's pink. It reminds me way too much of Umbridge's office.'

'Good point.' Hermione scrawled "no pink" in her notebook.

'Found a dress yet?'

'I'm going to Mum and Dad's later. I want to try on my grandmother's dress. Mum wore it at her wedding, and I want to wear it at mine.'

Ginny stifled a yawn, and flushed. 'Sorry. It's been a long week. I usually spend most Saturdays in my pajamas, lolling on the sofa with one of my barmy Muggle novels.' She fished in the pocket of her jeans for a few Galleons and placed them on the table. 'If the dress fits, bring it to lunch soon. I'm sure Mum will want to see it.' She stood up. 'I need to go take a nap if I'm going to be any use to anyone. Go ahead and plan for the twenty-seventh. And invite who you want. It's your wedding.'

'Yes, it is, isn't it?' Hermione's face lit up with glee.

******

Hermione pulled her jumper over her head and threw it on the bed in her parents' bedroom. She slid her jeans down her legs and shivered slightly as she stepped into the ivory satin folds Jane held out. She slipped her arms into the fitted sleeves and turned so Jane could button the back of the dress that went from the small of her back to her collarbone. 'Last one,' Jane murmured as she gently pushed the small cloth-covered button through its hoop on the other side of the bodice. 'Turn around and let me look at you.'

Hermione slowly turned in a wide circle, trying to avoid tripping over the train. 'What do you think?' she asked, trying to see how her bum looked in the dress.

'It's perfect. Mum would be over the moon.' Jane put her hands on Hermione's shoulders and lightly pushed her toward a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. 'Take a look for yourself.'

Hermione stood in front of the mirror. The neckline just covered her shoulders, leaving her collarbone exposed. Long sleeves flowed snugly to her wrists. The bodice clung to her body and cascaded from her hips to the floor in gleaming folds. 'Oh,' she breathed. 'It's beautiful.'

'So you have something old,' Jane mused. 'My pearls will look lovely with this, so there's your something borrowed.'

'That just leaves the something new and something blue.' Hermione grinned abashedly and giggled. She held the skirt of the dress out in both hands. 'Did you feel this...? Oh, I don't know... Giddy when you tried it on?' Hermione met her mother's eyes in Jane's reflection. 'I'm normally so sensible.'

Jane put her arms around her daughter. 'Yes. It did.' She gazed at Hermione's image in the mirror and sniffled. 'Did you set a date yet?'

'September twenty-seventh. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate and it won't rain.'

'It's good luck for you to have rain on your wedding day,' Jane objected.

Hermione snorted. 'Not during an outdoor wedding.'

'Hermione?' Ron called up the stairs. 'Are you up there?' His voice was closer.

'Bloody hell!' Hermione scrabbled in her discarded clothes for her wand. She jabbed it sharply at the door just as Ron appeared in the doorway. 'Don't come in!' The door slammed into Ron's face.

'Ow!' Ron howled in pain. 'I dink you boke mah dose...' he moaned.

'Oh, no!' Hermione put a hand on the doorknob. 'Close your eyes!'

'Why?' Ron wailed.

'I'm wearing my wedding dress, you git. You can't see me in the dress before the wedding! It's bad luck!'

'Dat's bahmy!' Ron exclaimed through the throbbing pain in his face.

'That's how it's going to be, so close your eyes, if you want me to fix your nose in the next thirty seconds,' Hermione said impatiently.

'Findh,' Ron huffed.

'Are they closed?'

'Yes.'

Hermione cracked the door open, and Ron stood with his hands over his face, blood pouring from his nose, eyes shut tightly. 'Keep them shut, there's a good lad,' she murmured soothingly.

'I'md nob a childh,' Ron groused.

Hermione pointed her wand at his face. 'Episkey.' She quickly closed the door. 'I think I should get this off,' she said wryly. 'Before someone else gets hurt.' She turned her back to Jane, who swiftly undid all the buttons. Hermione tugged the sleeves from her arms and carefully stepped out of the dress and began to pull her jeans back on.

Jane deftly folded the dress and tucked it into its box. 'Do you want to take it home?' she asked as she lowered the lid on the box.

Hermione's fingers glided longingly over the edge of the box. 'No,' she said regret coloring her voice. 'I'd better not. I'll come get it closer to the wedding.' She tugged the jumper over her head. 'I should go check on Ron.'

Ron gazed in bewilderment at the door, shut firmly in his face. His nose didn't hurt anymore, but a quick glance at the front of his shirt revealed several large splotches of blood. He could feel it begin to congeal in a stiff ring around his mouth and over his chin. He pulled out his wand, and ducked into the bathroom, muttering a spell that would siphon the blood from his shirt and face. 'Weddings are even more dangerous than I thought,' he muttered.

'Are you all right?' Hermione slipped into the bathroom and reached up to gently prod Ron's nose.

'Why'd you have to break my nose?'

'I didn't mean to,' she argued. 'I was trying on my grandmother's wedding dress. You're not to see me in it before the wedding.'

'You could wear a potato sack, and you'd look beautiful.'

'Did you decide on the guest list yet?'

Hermione sighed. 'No.'

'Charlie had the right idea,' Ron grumbled. 'Just show up one Sunday lunch and say, "Mum, Dad, I got married last week!" Save us a load of trouble.'

'Do we have to have something as big as Bill and Fleur's?' Hermione asked plaintively.

Ron pulled Hermione closer and dropped a kiss on top of her disordered hair. 'No, hen, we don't. If it's all the same to you, I just want to have our families.'

Hermione tilted her head back. 'That's still a rather large wedding. You have a lot of cousins.'

'I meant just our parents and Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Bronwyn, Percy, Penny, George, Katie and the kids.' Ron drew a breath. 'And Andromeda and Teddy, too.'

'Oh.' Hermione blinked. 'Well, now. That's a kelpie of a different color, then.' She stiffened as she remembered. 'And your aunt Muriel.'

'Bloody hell... Do we have to?'

'Sadly, yes. Or we'll never hear the end of it.'

'Barmy old bat,' Ron muttered. 'Fine.' He heaved a sigh. 'Remind me again why I wanted to be involved in planning the wedding?'

'Because you begged to be involved.'

'And remind me why we're not eloping, like just about everyone else?'

'Because,' Hermione began patiently, 'we really want Harry and Ginny with us, and trying to get those two to take a vacation is next to impossible. And I want Mum and Dad there. And your mum and dad, too.' Ron opened his mouth to protest, and Hermione laid a finger over his lips. 'And I'm not doing this in a dingy Ministry office.'

Ron shook his head. 'No, hen.' He kissed the tip of her nose. 'You're going to have the perfect day. Nothing but sunshine and a canopy of autumn leaves.'

'And how do you know this?'

'I ordered it,' Ron said smugly. 'Just for you.'

'You can't order weather,' Hermione said logically.

'No, but it wouldn't dare be otherwise for you.'

Hermione grinned and began to head downstairs. 'We'll need daisies,' she said, half thinking aloud.

Ron pulled out his wand and waved it in front of Hermione. 'I'm way ahead of you.' He plucked the daisy from midair and tucked it behind Hermione's ear. 'I've been working on that for a month.'

Hermione traced the outline of a petal. 'Who are you and what have you done with Ron?'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I was wrong about you. You have far more emotional range than a teaspoon.'

'Bound to happen eventually.'