For Better or for Worse

For Better or For Worse

Hermione Jane Granger stood in front of the mirror with a dissatisfied frown on her face. "Are you sure?" she asked as she did a half-turn in her strapless white gown and watched the layers of soft fabric come back to rest against her legs.

"Yes, I'm positive. You look gorgeous." Ginny Weasley stood by the window in a lavender bridesmaids' gown. She had been peering out the window at the grounds every minute for the last half hour. "Where is he?" she muttered impatiently. The 'he' in question was Neville Longbottom, whom Ginny had been seriously dating for a year.

"I don't know, maybe I should have gone with the long sleeves."

"Don't be silly, Hermione. It's perfect. You only spent about a year searching for it."

Hermione turned away from the mirror. "Now you're sure that Fred and George aren't planning to pull any pranks today? I'll absolutely strangle them if anything happens."

"I promise." Ginny put her hand over her heart. "I made them double and triple swear that they have nothing hidden up their sleeves. They won't mess with you today."

Hermione sighed, still not entirely convinced. "Alright, then. What time is it?"

"Half-past ten. Only forty-five minutes until, 'I do'. Now you're absolutely sure you want to go through with this, right? You do realize who you're marrying."

Before Hermione could answer, a rapid knocking sounded at the door.

"No, Ron, you can't come in!" Ginny exclaimed. Fortunately there was no need to worry, since Hermione herself had put a hex on the door so that only guests of the female persuasion would be able to enter the room.

"Come on, why not? It's just a Muggle superstition anyway!" Ron protested.

"No, it's a tradition, Ron, and I should honor it. Now please, just go," Hermione said. She felt her resolve weakening. It had been twelve hours since she'd seen her fiance, and she was anxious to be with him.

"Ron, have Bill and Fleur arrived yet?" Ginny changed the subject.

"Yes, they just got here. Fleur looks as if she's about to pop that baby out any minute."

"The Malfoys?"

Ron muttered an unintelligible word. "Stupid prat. He hasn't been here ten minutes and already he's insulted every last one of us. Why did he even come in the first place? Just because he's married to Cho and she was the wedding coordinator, I don't see the point...and to be parading around that snotty-nosed kid of his like he's the heir to the throne. What a - "

"What about Lockhart?" Ginny interrupted with a wink.

"What, who invited Lockhart?!"

"Nobody, I'm teasing. What about Neville?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him."

"Well, considering that he's one of your ushers, I'd think you would go downstairs and find out then. Go on, now!"

Ron grumbled but eventually gave up and left. Ginny walked back to the window where she promptly peered outside.

"Oh, there's Neville! Hermione, I'm going down to say hello, okay?"

"Go ahead." Hermione waved her away. Ginny hurried from the room, holding her skirt to avoid stumbling. Hermione turned back to the mirror, still debating whether she'd chosen the right dress.

Phoebe Lily Potter stood in front of the mirror and frowned. "I don't like it, it's too fancy."

She lifted the skirt of the pale gold taffeta dress and twirled. The gold and lavender ribbons fastened to the floral wreath in her dark blond hair flew out behind her.

"Well, I think it's perfectly beautiful," Harry said from the doorway, where he stood admiring his five year-old daughter. He was handsomely dressed in gray trousers and jacket with a long-sleeved white oxford, and an intricately embroidered lavender silk vest.

Phoebe stuck out her tongue at the mirror. Then she giggled and turned around. "You're so silly, daddy. Can I change out of this after the wedding is over?"

Harry furrowed his brow, rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and put his finger to his chin. "Well, I don't know. Your Aunt Hermione picked out that dress for you. The other flower girls are wearing the same thing."

"Please?" Phoebe tilted her head to the side. It was impossible not to notice her striking resemblance to Luna. Phoebe's eyes, although green like Harry's, were wide and protuberant like Luna's, which give her face an almost-constant expression of anticipation.

"All right, you can change after the ceremony, if you find a nice party dress to wear. No jeans. Also, you'll have to sit for pictures before you change."

"Thanks!" Phoebe took off at a run and propelled herself into Harry's legs, which nearly knocked him fully into the edge of the door.

"Remember, you have to be on your best behavior with the other children, even if you don't like them. You'll do that for me, won't you?" Harry kissed the top of her head.

"But Damien Malfoy's mean. He thinks he's better than everybody. Why does he have to come anyway?"

"Because his mum helped Aunt Hermione plan the wedding."

"So?"

"Phoebe, remember you promised to behave."

Phoebe frowned, picking at the beads on the bodice of her dress. "Okay. But I hate it when he calls me Nutty Phoebe."

"I know, but I think you can try to make it through one day without fighting with him, can't you? Come on, it's Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's special day."

"Yes, I promise I'll be good."

The scent of floral perfume preceded the arrival of Luna. Harry stood up to kiss her, then stood back to admire her.

"Wow."

"Mommy looks like a princess!"

"She most certainly does."

Luna was wearing a flowing lavender chiffon gown. Her hair was braided in a single strand down her back with a gold ribbon intricately woven through it. She began to hum as she turned her attention to Harry.

It only took Harry a second to realize she was humming the tune to "Weasley Is Our King", in its slightly revised version. In this version, Luna substituted 'Potter' for 'Weasley', and 'My' for 'Our'. It was an inside joke of theirs, particularly when they spent a romantic evening alone after Phoebe went to bed.

"Potter Is My King," Luna murmured, and touched his lips with her fingers.

Draco Malfoy was unable to conceal the displeasure on his face as he surveyed the last-minute preparations going on around him. He stood on the edge of the lawn as children, nearly all of Weasley descent, scurried around the yard. Little pests, all of them.

"There's Nutty Phoebe Potter," remarked his son, Damien, who stood next to him with his chin held high. The Potter family was making their way up the path toward the Burrow.

Damien bore little resemblance to his father's side of the family, aside from the shape of his face. He favored the looks of his mother, with dark hair very close to black. But what Damien Chang Malfoy lacked in physical resemblance to his father, he more than made up for it in attitude and manner. At age five, he shared his father's distaste for anyone with Potter or Weasley blood in their veins.

"How long do we have to stay?" he tugged once on Draco's cape.

Draco pried away Damien's fingers and smoothed his cape. "Not a minute longer than necessary." His eyes narrowed as he spotted Ginny Weasley. She rushed from the rear door of the Burrow and catapulted herself into the arms of unsuspecting Neville Longbottom. The flustered Neville barely had time to catch her to prevent both of them from tumbling into the grass. The two then laughed and shared a clumsy kiss.

"Well, well, well. A Weasley making a fool of herself. Doesn't that look familiar? They have absolutely no sense of propriety. Or taste, for that matter."

"Where's mummy?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Draco's gaze skimmed the grounds in search of his wife, who at the moment was nowhere to be seen. Cho really was a miracle worker he had to give her that; he couldn't imagine anyone being able to transform this sorry plot of land, but she had done as good a job as anyone. The aisle was demarcated on either side by silver posts connected with purple velvet ribbon. Atop the silver posts, vases filled with white roses were set in silver cup holders. Rows of ornately carved wooden chairs with velvet cushions were arranged evenly on either side of the aisle.

Finally Draco saw his wife. Cho was resplendent in a green gown with matching beaded waistcoat. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. A dazzling emerald wedding ring sparkled on her finger as she lifted her hand absently to check her hair. She was at the moment mingling near the altar with a couple he didn't recognize.

Simultaneously Draco monitored the slow but steady progress of the Potters as they moved across the lawn. He paid particular attention to the closing gap between his wife and Potter. A tingling heat rose up the back of his neck as Harry brushed past Cho with hardly a glance in her direction. Harry and Luna then stopped a few feet away from Cho to talk with Mr. & Mrs. Weasley.

Draco then glanced down at Damien who was also following the progress of the Potters, Phoebe in particular, with a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Damien," Draco snapped, and his son straightened to attention. Meanwhile Phoebe appeared from behind Luna's skirt and stuck out her tongue at Damien. She put one thumb in each ear and wiggled her fingers.

"I'm gonna get her!" Damien started, his cheeks flushed hotly. He was reeled in by Draco's firm hand on the collar of his cape.

"Don't sink to a Potter's level. Remember who you are." Draco calmed his son with one strong glance. "Now, let's find seats as far in the back as possible so we can get this miserable day over with."

Ron Bilius Weasley was a nervous wreck. Here it was, only twenty-five minutes until the ceremony, and he'd completely forgotten his vows. Why he'd agreed to Hermione's idea that they write their own was beyond him. They both knew how pathetic he was at memorization, not to mention his woeful lack of writing ability, at least when it came to anything eloquent. But he hoped he would never again see an expression like the one on Hermione's face when he'd suggested that she write both sets of vows.

"Ron, I would think that of all the assignments you've needed help with, your own wedding vows would certainly not be one of them." The expression on her face had reminded him of the way his mother looked when she was sorely disappointed in something he'd done.

But at least he'd remembered their song, "All I Want Is You", which was now being played in an instrumental form by the string, flute and harp musicians. It was the song they were dancing to when Ron finally mustered the courage to tell Hermione how he felt, at the graduation dance at Hogwarts at the end of seventh year. Of course, it took him another seven years to propose, but he still did it, and here they were, just twenty-two minutes from becoming Mr. & Mrs. Weasley.

Twenty-two minutes! Finally he spotted Harry a few yards away talking with his parents. As the guests began to gravitate toward their seats, Ron made his way over to Harry. He noticed Luna and Phoebe heading into the house where Hermione's bridal party was assembling. Following along were Samantha and Amanda Johnson-Weasley, Fred & Angelina's twins who were also serving as flower girls. He didn't see Ginny or Neville anywhere. He hadn't seen Fred and George for most of the morning, either, yet he spotted Angelina helping an elderly Weasley relative into her seat. Meanwhile Bill was assisting Fleur into a chair at the front of the Weasley side of the aisle. Fleur was heavily pregnant with their first baby and she was extremely irritable.

Ron waited until his parents had walked away to talk with Hermione's parents. Then he tapped Harry's shoulder. "Harry, I can't remember the words!"

Harry looked completely undisturbed by this. "You'll remember, Ron," he said confidently.

"How do you know that? I can barely remember my own name!"

"Take a deep breath.You love Hermione, don't you?"

"Of course!"

"Then you'll remember. Believe me, at my wedding I didn't remember a syllable of my vows until Luna came down the aisle. Then it all came back to me. The words couldn't get out fast enough." Harry's eyes grew hazy, and Ron knew he was going over the vows in his head.

"Really?"

"Yes. I swear, you'll remember every last word the minute you see her."

Reassured, Ron exhaled. "You've got the toast down, right?"

"Oh, don't worry about the toast." Harry grinned as he said this, but Ron was preoccupied with adjusting the flower in his lapel and didn't notice.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's only a few minutes to the ceremony."

"Oh don't worry, we've got time." Ginny took Neville by the collar and planted her mouth on his. They were sequestered in the closet by the kitchen. She just couldn't keep her hands off him, now that he was here. He smelled so good, he was finally using that musky scented soap she'd bought him. She felt the hem of her gown catch underfoot as she maneuvered herself. She knew Hermione would be furious with her if she tore it, but right now her brain couldn't focus on anything other than Neville.

In the heat of the moment, Neville took hold of Ginny's waist and locked her against him as the two of them stumbled over a pair of shoes and fell against the wall of the closet. Neville's elbow slammed into the wall in his effort to keep Ginny from falling on top of him. "Ouch!"

"Sorry." Ginny smiled. A lock of hair fell into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Will you marry me?"

The words came completely of their own accord. He hadn't even planned on asking her, but suddenly there it was. Ginny was flabbergasted. Tears started in her eyes.

"What? What did you say?"

But before Neville could reply, the door opened to reveal Luna, smiling serenely at them. "Hermione's looking for you, Ginny. It's time to assemble for the procession. You too, Neville. You're needed outside."

"W-will....will you marry me?" Neville repeated, never taking his eyes off Ginny. This was the moment, and no matter who saw it, he wasn't going to lose the opportunity.

"Oh Neville, I - I..."

"I believe the response he's looking for is 'yes'," Luna stated matter-of-factly. "You do make a very nice match, if you don't mind my saying. I've always thought so." Then she turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.

"So, will you?" Neville asked, anxiously. His heart was throbbing in his chest, he could barely hear his own voice over the pulse of blood in his ears.

"Yes!" Ginny shrieked. "Yes yes yes!" She threw her arms around Neville's neck and proceeded to pepper him with kisses that left lipstick imprints all over his face.

A hush fell over the assembled guests as the strains of "All I Want Is You" faded, and turned into the familiar Bridal March. Heads turned as the bridal party began its orchestrated procession down the aisle.

First to appear was Ginny, as maid-of-honor. Despite her best efforts, she looked dishevelled, and a gleam of excitement showed in her eyes. Her fingers visibly trembled as she held the bouquet, and she kept her gaze fixed on the altar where Neville stood, third in line after Ron and Harry.

Once Ginny was halfway down the aisle, Luna followed. She was the picture of composure, with her head held high. Ginny reached the alter, where she snuck a secretive glance at Neville as she positioned herself directly opposite Harry on the other side of the altar. Then Luna abruptly stopped in the middle of the aisle and began to sing enthusiastically, "Longbottom Is Our King..." All the while she was looking right at Ginny.

Up at the altar, Ron thought he would faint. "Harry, what the - ?" he looked wildly at Harry, who instead of being alarmed was rather amused. Hermione remained poised at the head of the aisle on the arm of her father just behind the flower girls. She was clearly mortified. Her chin was tightly set and she looked as if she would burst into tears. Ron was sure he'd hear about this later, he'd bet galleons on it. He'd been the one who talked Hermione into including Luna in the bridal party. She'd only done it as a favor for him and Harry.

"All right, don't worry, I'll take care of it." Harry finally stepped down off the altar, and took Luna's arm to escort her the remainder of the way down the aisle. He settled her in her position next to Ginny, directly opposite Neville. Luna was still humming under her breath. Harry felt a sudden, almost irresistible urge to carry her off to the nearest closet and have his way with her. He found it difficult to pull himself away, but he did and resumed his position next to Ron.

Ginny nudged Luna. "What did you do that for?" she whispered, yet she was clearly pleased by the attention, her cheeks flushed red.

Samantha and Amanda made their way down the aisle as a pair holding a basket of flower petals between them. In unison they each put a hand in the basket and scattered white and lavendar petals in front of them, while their parents Fred and Angelina beamed. Several rows behind them, Draco Malfoy scowled.

"Weasels." He put a hand on Damien's shoulder to calm the restless boy. How much longer was this going to take? Although Luna's impromptu rendition of "Longbottom Is Our King" in the midst of the procession did put a bit of a spark in the whole affair. He'd gotten a good chuckle out of that one. As for the look on that Mudblood Granger's face, that was priceless. He would pay good money to anyone who got him a picture of that. He looked at Cho, who sat regally beside him. Her eyes were focused not on the bride or the altar, but the decorations.

Once Samantha and Amanda had made it halfway down the aisle, Phoebe stepped out with a small bouquet of flowers in her hands and an adorable smile on her face. Enjoying the attention, she straightened her shoulders and pulled herself up to her full height. But when she reached the row where the Malfoys were seated, she saw Damien with his tongue sticking out at her, and his thumbs were in his ears. Draco, who was preoccupied gazing at his wife, didn't notice Phoebe as she threw her flowers to the ground and gave Damien a shove that sent him toppling out of his seat. Draco made a grab for Damien at the last minute, but it was too late. Damien squirmed out of his father's grasp and made a run for Phoebe.

"Oh no, Harry!" Hermione yelled. "Luna!"

"Oh my goodness!" Molly Weasley exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, along with Hermione's mother, who was seated next to her. Angelina gasped, and Ginny squealed. A murmur of surprise went up amongst the guests as the two young children collided in the aisle. Luna seemed to be the only one unaffected. She was focused instead on some point beyond the altar, with a dreamy smile on her face.

"You ruined it!" Phoebe yelled, as she pulled Damien's hair.

"You did it first!" Damien retorted, pulling her hair in return. "It's your fault, Nutty Phoebe!"

Phoebe's eyes watered, but she refused to cry. "I hate you Dumb Damien! You stink!"

"No, you stink! I hate you more! "

"HARRY!"

Harry had already rushed from the altar to intervene. Hermione then shot an infuriated look at Draco and Cho. Draco made a halfhearted grab for Damien's collar, but instead was caught in the grip of the fuming Harry.

"Can't you control your child for one minute, Malfoy?!" Before Draco could respond, Harry turned his attention to the children, whom he pried apart with only minor difficulty. He handed Damien to Draco. Draco moved him roughly aside to Cho, who took Damien's arm to hold him back.

"Potter, your daughter is just as crazy as her mother. She should be sent away to the loony bin."

For a moment, Harry looked as though he would punch Draco, but he managed to resist temptation for the sake of Hermione and Ron. Instead he tended to a rumpled but otherwise unharmed Phoebe, whom he helped the rest of the way down the aisle.

With no further incident, Ron and Hermione exchanged vows and were pronounced husband and wife. Ron looked at Harry as he took Hermione's arm and steered her down the aisle. "Thanks, mate," he said, and flashed the "ok" sign with his free hand. Harry was right, the words came back to him the minute Hermione came down the aisle. He would remember the vows verbatim for the rest of his life.

After the ceremony formal photographs were taken, and true to her word Phoebe sat obediently through every last one before she got her wish and Luna took her inside to change into her less formal party dress.

After the photographs, the guests were settled at their tables in groups of five, and the wedding luncheon was served. Guests were given a choice of either fried chicken or filleted salmon with vegetables, and glasses champagne for the adults, or sparkling pumpkin juice for the children. Once everyone had been served, Harry got to his feet at the head table and clinked the champagne glass with his fork to get everyone's attention.

He looked down at Ron and Hermione as he raised his glass. "What can I say about these two, except that pretty much everyone else on the planet knew they were meant to be together, years before either of them realized it."

Laughter rippled through the audience. Hermione leaned contentedly against Ron, and she looped her arm through his. Ron kissed the top of her head.

"But at least Ron has the consolation of knowing that if things don't work out with Hermione, there's a very fiesty hen over in the coop who would be more than happy to take over that job."

Ron straightened in his seat. "You promised you wouldn't bring that up!"

"What?" Hermione asked, curiously glancing from Ron to Harry, and back to Ron.

Ron shook his head violently, pleading with Harry not to say any more. "Please."

The image was still vivid in his mind. Using one of Hermione's potion books, he'd made what turned out to be a poor attempt at putting together a Love Potion to try out on their wedding night. But instead it turned into a mad chase with Ron running from a lovestruck hen who had inadvertently caught a nip of the potion when the pot spilled, and wanted Ron all for herself. It took almost five minutes to catch the hen.

Despite the fact that Hermione didn't know what was funny, she took the hint from Harry's amused expression and stifled a giggle.

Ron glared at Harry. "What? If you tell, so help me, I'll..."

"So everyone raise your glasses. May these two be as happy as chickens for the rest of their lives." Harry turned to face the guests, and held his glass higher. Everyone raised their glasses in unison.

"To Ron and Hermione - about to take the voyage of their lives!"

From out of the clear blue sky, hundreds of firecrackers and whistlers broke out, exploding into fountains of color that spelled out: "Welcome Aboard the Good Ship R/H".

"Congratulations!" chimed Fred and George, who appeared out of nowhere. "You didn't think we'd let our Ronnie's big day go by without a proper prank, did you?"

Ron braced for Hermione's reaction. Instead Hermione took his hands and smiled. "I love you, Ron."
"I love you," Ron said, and kissed her while the guests cheered and firecrackers popped over their heads.