Author's Note: A writer always appreciates detailed feedback, especially those with thoughtful questions. Trivial little things may seem hardly worth the mention, but all honest inquiries are deserving of response. Thus, when gal-texter asks why Dobby speaks with what is evidently a cockney accent that is not evident in the books, I reply gleefully in the following manner:
I am an unabashed devotee of the Harry Potter books-on-tape as performed by Jim Dale. He brings a full range of voices to the stories, adding emotional subtext that truly brings the characters to life. He won the Grammy award for his performance of Goblet of Fire. In addition, he made the Guinness Book of World Records for essaying no less than 134 different characters in GoF (a record since broken with OotP). I have listened to the first four books five times now, and OotP twice. Whenever I read the books, each character speaks with Jim Dale's voice, his inflections. And as you may have guessed, I have portrayed Dobby here as Dale chose to interpret him, because that is the voice I hear every time I write Dobby's dialogue. So, far from distressing me, gal-texter's query gave me the chance to endorse Dale's exemplary work, which I highly recommend.
(And you thought this site was unburdened by pop-up ads. ^_^ )
So, everyone ready for some dancing? Then read on.
As the newlyweds touched down to the accompaniment of polite but enthusiastic applause, Hermione narrowed one eye as she said in accusatory fashion, "Whose idea was that Levitating Charm, yours or Flitwick's?"
"Actually, it was Ron's," Harry said. "After all, if it wasn't for good old Wingardium Leviosa, who knows where the two of us would be today?"
"I'd be a mural on the wall of the girls' loo," Hermione said with a nervous laugh, memory of the mountain troll they'd faced in First Year still frighteningly clear in her memory. Then her smile softened. "Quite the romantic, our Ron."
"Someone talkin' 'bout me behind my back?"
Ron and Ginny were approaching, the latter with arms outstretched. As she gave Hermione a congratulatory hug, Ron said, "So, fancy a change in partners, you two?"
Harry stepped back as Ginny released Hermione -- whereupon Ron caught Harry around the waist and spun him around as the two girls wept tears of laughter. Harry promptly disengaged himself from Ron as they laughed and smacked each other upon shoulder and back.
"Ah, I'd rather dance with you, Hermione," Ron said as he extended a hand. Jerking his head at Harry, he added, "This git keeps wantin' to lead." And drawing Hermione close, he whirled her away, leaving Harry and Ginny facing each other, Harry's intense green eyes meeting her soft brown ones. Exchanging a wordless smile, they linked and began to dance.
Ron was silent at first as he guided Hermione across the dance floor. She did not press him, certain that he would reveal whatever was on his mind when he found the proper words.
They passed Sirius, who was leading -- or was he being led by? -- Professor McGonagall, whose normally severe face seemed somehow unnatural with so bright an exprssion upon it as she wore now. Ron lifted his head, looked meaningfully into the Marauder's dark eyes. Sirius smiled shortly before being jerked away by his partner with a force that might have torn a limb from the Whomping Willow.
Without any warning, Ron said suddenly, "I had a talk with Sirius today. Twice, actually. At Harry's house
this morning, and again a little while ago."
Hermione nodded politely, waiting for Ron to continue.
"Can I tell you a secret, Hermi? I mean, something only you and I can share. Not even Harry can know."
Hermione stiffened slightly in Ron's grasp, uncertainty clouding her eyes. She knew that one of the foundation stones of a marriage was trust. Could she begin her life with Harry by promising to keep a secret from him on the very first day of their marriage?
To her relief, Ron seemed to recognize her quandry almost immediately and amended his statement hastily.
"I guess that wasn't fair, was it? Okay, then. I'll tell you, and I'll trust you to tell Harry or not, whatever you think is best."
Relaxing once more, Hermione nodded. Ron cleared his throat in what might have been a decisive manner.
"Sirius told me that, in his Hogwarts days, he, um, sort of fancied Lily Evans."
"Harry's mum?" Hermione said at last with a note of surprise.
"At one point," Ron went on, "he was certain he loved her. And he wanted to do the whole courtship thing, you know? But then...he saw how much she loved James, and he knew he didn't stand a chance. He was kind of down for a while when the two of them got together. He wasn't sure he could be a proper friend with someone he'd fancied as more than a friend.
"Then James came to him and told him he wanted him to be Best Man at their wedding. So he had a decision to make. He could either be a selfish git and say no...or he could be the best friend he knew how, and stand by his two best mates, come what may.
"We all know what his choice was, don't we?"
Hermione did not speak. But her smile was warm, her eyes soft, and these spoke without benefit of words.
Ron began to fidget a little.
"Are you going to say something? Or are you just going to let me keep rambling on like an idiot?"
"I haven't decided," Hermione said, looking thoughtful. Then her façade dissolved and her face began to glow in a manner to turn Ron's knees to water.
"Do you know how much I treasure you, Ron? Do you really, truly know?"
Ron felt a burning in his ears as they reddened perceptibly, bringing a musical chuckle from Hermione's throat.
"No matter how much we fought," Hermione said brightly, "I always knew you'd be there for me when it really mattered. I feel so lucky, you know. Me, plain old Hermione-Muggle-born-Granger, poofy-haired bookworm, who used to watch all the boys fawning over Parvati and Lavender and want to go crawl under a rock for a hundred years. How did someone like me get so lucky? Some women live an entire lifetime without ever being genuinely loved by a man. And I've been loved by two."
"Hermione," Ron said uncomfortably, "I -- "
But Hermione shushed him, her soft brown eyes suddenly hard as mahogany.
"Not another word," she said firmly. "Words are much too limiting. We don't need words to define what we have. Do we?"
"No," Ron said in a throaty hush. "We don't."
Hermione put her head on Ron's shoulder, and with the touch of her cheek upon his neck, Ron felt a great weight fall away. He felt so light, in fact, that he was sure his feet would rise from the dance floor without benefit of a Levitating Charm.
A short distance away, the youngest Weasley was staring into the deep, emerald eyes of Harry Potter as the two of them moved to the slow rhythm of the music.
"You're very quiet all of a sudden," Harry observed. "For a moment there you reminded me of that shy little girl who used to put her elbow in the butter dish, and not the beautiful young woman I'm dancing with now."
"Harry!" Ginny admonished, her eyes darting to either side to see if any of the other dancing couples had overheard. "You're a married man!"
"Married men are still allowed to appreciate beauty," Harry said in an amused voice. Then, more seriously: "Within limits, of course. All that time in the library has taught Hermione a lot of Curses I still haven't learned the counter-Curses to yet --
"Look out, she's pointing her wand at us!"
Harry swung Ginny around abruptly. Her eyes went large as saucers, darting about until they fell at last on Ron and Hermione, who were dancing not far away, their attention focused wholly on each other.
"Harry, that's not funny!" But though her eyes were piercing, there was a tremble of laughter in her voice that did not escape Harry.
Ginny was still observing Ron and Hermione from the corner of her eye, and she stifled a gasp as she saw Hermione place her head on Ron's shoulder. Alerted by Ginny's exclamation, Harry followed her gaze and smiled warmly.
"Harry!" Ginny said, his benign expression seeming to horrify her. "How can you be so calm?" Continuing to stare at her brother, she said without thinking, "If this was their wedding day, and he saw you and her like that, he'd -- "
She caught herself, embarrassed to have said aloud what should have remained a secret thought. But Harry seemed not the least disconcerted by her remark.
"If the shoe was on the other foot, he'd understand, just as I do."
Ginny caught Harry's eye, and he smiled down on her benevolently.
"She loves him," he said, as if this statement were the most natural thing in the world. "And he loves her."
Ginny's face took on an aspect Harry had not seen since the Chamber of Secrets.
"How -- how can you -- "
Harry's smile softened.
"Did Dumbledore tell you what happened when Hermione and I - "
Harry suddenly felt his throat constrict. The images of his and Hermione's journey through the Corridors of Doubt, and of their souls mingling in the heart of the Soul Chamber, were clear in his mind. But no power on Earth could break through Merlin's enchantment of secrecy to permit him to utter a single word of what he saw and felt under the influence of the Soul Crystal. He looked helplessly at Ginny, her lovely face framing an expression of patience and expectation.
"I could never name all of the reasons why I fell in love with Hermione," Harry said at last. "But one of them is that her heart is so big that she doesn't know how to love half-way. It's all or nothing with Hermione. When she loves someone - anyone - it's with all her heart. It's a part of her I pray never changes, because there aren't nearly enough people who can love so completely and unconditionally."
Harry's arm tightened gently around Ginny's waist as he smiled down on her, the two of them still moving to the slow rhythm of the nameless waltz being played by the tree-orchestra.
"It's rare when two people share something the way Ron and Hermione do. And I could never be jealous of the feelings she has for him - will always have for him. Because I know exactly how she feels. Because as much as she loves Ron - that's how much I love you."
Ginny's mouth moved silently, but the power of speech seemed to have left her as effectively as if Merlin's enchantment had leapt from Harry and onto her. In a sudden convulsive movement, she trod on Harry's foot, and he yelped in surprise before the astonished expression on her face caused a delighted chuckle to rise from the back of his throat.
"Blimey, luv! I would have thought it was obvious. And Hermione accuses ME of being obtuse!"
Harry laughed again as he tightened his grip on her waist with gentle but unmistakable affection. He looked into Ginny's eyes, his smile softening.
"I've come too close to death too many times in the past seven years," Harry said in a low, serious tone. "If it's taught me anything, it's to hold onto the people I love, and to let them know how I feel - not tomorrow, but now. Because the future isn't guaranteed, and tomorrow may never come.
"All my life I wondered what it would be like to have parents who loved me. Then I met your mum and dad, and just like that, I knew. More than that, I suddenly had a whole family. It wasn't long before I realized that I couldn't love Ron more if he was my own brother.
"And then there's you."
"Your sister," Ginny said at last, an unmistakable note of resignation just detectable in her voice.
"There was a time," Harry said earnestly, "when I thought we might become something more. I think it may have had a bit to do with Ron warning me off, as much as ordering me to keep my hands off his little sister. Well, a bloke can't resist a challenge like that, can he? Tell him he can't have something, he suddenly finds he wants it all the more.
"Childish, innit? I mean, people aren't things to be possessed, are they? So, as I got older, I stopped looking at you as some kind of trophy to be won. I began to look at you, the real Ginny Weasley. And I saw someone very much worth loving.
"I'm sorry if it's not the kind of love you hoped for. But it is real. And it's forever. I can't imagine a day when I don't love you as much as I do right now. Which is more than I can put into words."
Ginny's hand slipped from Harry's as she wrapped both arms around his waist.
"Harry, I love you," she said, her voice muffled against his robes as she felt years of suppressed emotion rushing out of her as through a sundered dam. As Harry hugged her tightly, she said, "I'm -- I'm glad you married Hermione. I really am. I know she's -- she's the one you were meant to be with. And I'm happy for you. For both of you."
"I know," Harry said, kissing the top of her head. "I never doubted for a moment."
As Harry produced a handkerchief for Ginny to dry her eyes, a voice interrupted them.
"May I cut in?"
Harry and Ginny both turned to see Oliver Wood, a tall, dominating figure in robes of deep russet. Seen up close, his shoulders seemed nearly as broad as Hagrid's, enhanced as they were by his immaculately tailored dress robes.
Harry gave Ginny a questioning look. She paused a moment, regarding Oliver from the corner of her eye, then nodded. Accepting his handkerchief back, Harry smiled graciously and backed away as Oliver took his place, promptly spiriting Ginny away and across the dance floor.
"Been wanting to do this for ages," Oliver told Ginny with a very pleased look on his face.
"Oh?" Ginny said, feeling Oliver's strong hands controlling their movements in a very decisive manner. He was holding her very close. "And why is that?"
"Had my eye on you for a while now," Oliver said, in a tone that implied that for him to bestow such favor upon her was all she could have desired. "Saw you at the Wasps match last month. And I liked what I saw!"
"Did you, now?" Ginny said coyly. "Funny...I don't remember seeing YOU."
"Yes...well..." Oliver said, flushing slightly, "I wasn't in the game, strictly speaking...on the bench...reserve, you know."
"Oh," Ginny said innocently, feeling his hands lose some of their aggressiveness. "But you noticed me, then?"
Oliver's chest seemed to inflate once more.
"Too right I did! Blimey, but you looked positively smashing in those robes!"
"Oh," Ginny mouthed softly. She remembered that day in July when she, Ron and the twins had gone to see Puddlemere United play the Wimbourne Wasps with the tickets given to her father by Ludo Bagman. All of the robes she'd wanted to wear that day had been in the wash, so she'd found some old robes in her closet which she hadn't worn since the Summer between fourth and fifth years. Ginny had filled out considerably in that two-year interval, a fact which her snug-fitting robes displayed all too obviously. Her brothers had teased her relentlessly all that day.
"So," Oliver continued, his swagger returning, "as it happens, I'll be making a personal appearance at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Hogsmeade next month -- signing autographs, taking photos, that sort of thing. Thought you might like to come to town that day, have a drink at the Three Broomsticks. Maybe have lunch at the Hogsmeade Inn. Got an expense account, I have," he added smugly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Oliver," Ginny said soothingly, her brown eyes going puppy-dog soft. "I have an engagement that day."
The music was fading now as Oliver stammered, " But -- but I didn't tell you which day."
"Fancy that," Ginny smiled, disengaging herself from Oliver's suddenly lifeless hands. "Thank you for the dance, Oliver." Then, almost as an afterthought: "Hope you make first string soon."
And before Oliver could summon the presence of mind to close his slack mouth, he found himself standing alone on the dance floor.
"Tell me I didn't see what I just saw!" hissed Parvati with a mixture of astonishment and admiration as Ginny joined her, Padma and Lavender at a self-serve punch table erected by Molly Weasley. "Tell me you didn't just blow off Oliver Wood as if -- as if he were Colin Creevey!"
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny said demurely as she ladeled some punch into a small goblet and sipped indifferently.
"Did you see the shoulders on him?" Lavender said, her eyes transfixed as Oliver slowly left the dance floor. "They're wider than a Centaur's!"
"You look," Padma said with a determined smile on her darkly sensuous lips. "Flitwick is raising his wand again, and if I time it just right, I can 'accidentally' intercept Oliver just as the music starts."
And so saying, she was off.
Not willing to be outdone by her twin, Parvati followed with as much decorum as she could manage, her robes flying as if in a windstorm.
"Ginny?" came a quiet voice seemingly from out of nowhere. "M-may I have this dance?"
Neville was standing at Ginny's elbow, a hopeful smile on his round face.
"I thought you'd never ask," Ginny smiled, setting her goblet aside and taking Neville's hand. "Let's go."
As Ginny and Neville mounted and dance floor, Ron stepped up beside Lavender.
"What d'you reckon that's about?" Ron said, taking a swig of punch as he watched Neville and Ginny dancing considerably more smoothly than their first abortive attempt at the Yule Ball nearly four years ago.
Lavender merely shook her head, sipping her punch somewhat meditatively. Ron shrugged.
"So, Lavender, want to dance?"
Lavender answered with a smile, and they went off together, Ron still watching Ginny from the corner of his eye until
he felt Lavender's arms slip around him, at which point his mind went blissfully blank.
Author's Note: Did anyone wonder who Oliver was trying to get a look at, when he was trying to see past Dumbledore's hat, and later when Harry thought Oliver was trying to get his atention? Now you know!
When this story was originally laid out, Oliver Wood was not included in the gathering at the Burrow. But when the time came to write this chapter, the scene between Oliver and Ginny just popped into my head, so I had to go back to the earlier chapter and squeeze Oliver in at the end of the row. Obviously, this is NOT the Sean Biggerstaff Oliver, but the one from the books, who is described as "burly," and who is clearly the epitome of the egotistical jock.
This was also my way of pairing up Neville and Ginny (more than a year before OotP came out, I might add). I always suspected that Neville had more of his Auror parents in him that we had seen thusfar, and Book 5 bore that out most forcefully. If the two of them survive J.K.'s future "purges," I can see them pairing up quite nicely.
The fun resumes in the next chapter, so, as they say on the Beverly Hillbillies, "Y'all come back now,
hear?