EPILOGUE - House Unity
How long did it take for wounds to heal?
For some, weeks. For others, years. And few knew better than those gathered that some wounds would never heal, no matter how much time you gave them. They simply became part of you, and you worked with them instead of around them. You felt joy despite them, or maybe partly because of them, because it is easier to understand joy when you have understood despair.
They had gone, as he had wanted to. He had taken her away as he had once claimed he ought to, and they had taken the time to learn the things about one another they thought didn't matter. Family pride, individual traditions, the ways they'd each been taught to love, and the ways they had learned that love.
And when they had come back, they came back not two, but one and ready to become such in the eyes of everyone they knew.
~~~
She walked uncertainly down the aisle between the ranks of seats, enjoying the feel of the grass beneath the satin runner she walked on, charmed to stay down no matter who walked on it or tripped over it, as she was afraid she would do, no matter how many times her mother had told her she would be beautiful, she would be fine.
Harmony Jane Potter was a very nervous little girl as she walked with her mother's wand, locked only into one charm for the morning, and every time the toddler waved the wand, white rose petals came fluttering out of the end of it.
She was so enamored with the charm that she had nearly made the aisle impassible with petals. But the beautiful man standing at the head of the aisle smiled at her, his hair pretty and bright and so different from her daddy's, and she figured she had done well. Once she had reached the end of the aisle, she popped the wand in the pretty man's direction, scattering rose petals across his toes with a pealing, bright giggle.
Hermione picked up her daughter and kissed the top of her head, smiling at Draco as she then passed the little girl to Harry.
Arthur walked down the aisle, sure on his feet despite the small cane he carried. He had long since gotten into the habit of telling people he carried it to keep Molly thinking he needed pampering.
Peter Pettigrew had caused that limp, but it had not been Arthur's vengeance that had taken down Voldemort's most loyal servant, nor had it been Ron's, Bill's, or Charlie's. Percy had shown his devotion to the man he had once been ashamed of, holding up his wounded father as he felled the man once known as Wormtail.
After a series of slow, deliberate steps, Arthur stood before the man who had first hated, then loved his little girl and put his hands to his shoulders. Wordlessly, according to tradition, he lifted the hood of Draco's summer-weight black cloak and settled it over bright hair, draped over his face and concealing his eyes in shadow.
He was already teary when he returned to his wife's side.
At the back of the crowd, she stood waiting, looking at the yard of her childhood home transformed into something unbelievable. She watched her father hood Draco and stood with dry, grateful eyes as Narcissa Malfoy did the same for her, cloaking the sunstruck red and gold of her hair with the hood of the white lace cloak she wore over her mother's dove grey robes.
She walked quickly over uncrushable rose petals up the aisle and to him; she could not help but smile at Draco's witness-Severus looked more irritated than dour as he continually Confounded the Muggle priest the couple had insisted co-officiate with Albus Dumbledore. Though Albus had no qualms sharing the duties, it had been widely agreed that the priest would likely not be capable of coping with a ghost as a co-celebrant.
So far, he'd been too confused to notice.
Ginny took her place beside Draco, not trying to seek out his eyes under the large, draped hood, instead locking hands with him and facing those assembled there-on his side, the few Slytherin families and teachers who had not sided with the Dark Lord; Tonks and her family, some Ministry employees. On Ginny's side, the cluster of ginger heads that comprised her brothers and parents; Hermione, Harry, and Harmony; an empty chair left out of respect for Remus and the sacrifice he had made.
They stood perfectly still for a moment, then turned and handed their wands to their witnesses, Draco's disappearing deep into the pockets of Severus's robes, Ginny's stuck through the mass of curls piled atop Luna's head.
Ron came first, standing before Draco and laying his wand to each of Draco's shoulders. The twins came next, a wand to each of his shoulders. They lingered for a moment, exchanging smirks, and Molly shot sparks at their bottoms to get them moving.
Nymphadora came next to bless Ginny, her hair a subdued, dark chestnut, either in deference to the day or still in mourning for Remus. Grieving or not, however, Tonks smiled at Ginny as she blessed her.
They came to bless the loved one of their loved one: Bill, Charlie, Ted and Andromeda, Percy, Luna, Molly, and Severus.
And finally, Arthur and Narcissa stepped up simultaneously, he blessing the young man whose actions had somehow signaled the beginning of the end of the second-and last-war, she blessing the young woman who had nearly killed her husband, who had nearly killed the man who would be her father-in-law in only a few moments. She blessed her without qualm, blessed her without remorse. This young woman was taking her son, but she had given Narcissa back her husband, whether she had intended to or not. She would go back to him when this was over, and though she had no doubt he'd have nothing positive to say about the union that had taken place, she also had no doubt he would listen to every detail.
He had wounds he had yet to learn to live with.
Draco and Ginny accepted their wands in their left hands and faced one another, wand hands raised palm-out toward one another. Ginny moved forward, ready to press her hand to his when Draco broke from tradition, grabbing her hand and drawing it into the shadows thrown by his cloak, settling his lips softly in the palm of her hand. She let out a choked little laugh in the stifling silence, tears rolling freely down her cheeks and a smile flitting beneath the lace.
Draco finally released her hand to settle it-and his-in their proper positions, palm-to-palm, and they walked in a semi-circle, each ending up in front of the other's family and friends. Ginny slid back Draco's hood and stood perfectly still while he did the same.
It was the same as it had always been, but more intense; he watched her as he would always watch her, as though she were his beginning and end, his reason for existence, as though the rest of the people were not there, as though the validation process their families had just put them through meant nothing.
She would be his even if no one approved of it, and she had been.
And he had been hers.
Left hands moved wands to right hands as they linked their right arms, and in a gesture any Muggle would recognize, twined their arms together at the elbow and leaned in, touching their own wands to their foreheads before moving back, once more grasping hands with their wands now clasped between them, white light glowing at the tips.
"I love you," Ginny finally said, breaking the silence. She stepped forward to kiss him, and he put a finger to her lips.
"Not yet," he said.
Colin Creevey caught the best moment in a spectacular flash of film-Severus Snape rolling his eyes as he finally released the Muggle priest, who would simply be Oblivitaed, anyway.
"Do you, Genevieve Melinda Wesley, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
"Do you, Drake Byron Mallory, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do."
For the first time, as tears gathered in his eyes, Draco finally let her see them.
They were hers, too, after all.
And floating above them, just higher than the priest's line of sight, Albus Dumbledore sighed and pressed his translucent hands together.
House unity and a very large wedding cake.
What could be more beautiful?