A/N: And this is the end of the line folks. I might have a cookie for this story, depends. Also, I'm trying to come up with something to follow up this one like an actual story instead of a bunch of little stories grouped together, but again, it depends solely on inspiration. At any rate, I hope you've enjoyed my meager offerings and I've made you laugh or at the very least grin. Once again, thank you for the reviews, they never fail to give me a grin and thank you to hal for the beta. If there're any Americanisms, please let me know as this was written by an American and beta'd by one too.
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Excerpts were taken from chapter two titled "A Crash Course in Traditions" in Kicking and Screaming: A Guide Down the Aisle by Claire Highnower.
Weddings are a cause for celebration and joy. It is the coming together and binding of two souls and two families but it is also a perfect occasion to reinforce and pass down traditions. Such customs can be couched within elaborate ceremonies or simple oaths stated in front of an officiant, but despite the elaborateness of the ceremony, the size of the wedding party, or length of the guest list a few traditions are often observed in all weddings.
Unlike Muggles, it is not bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony.
"Hermione, did you see my - er, thanks," Harry grinned taking the toothbrush she was holding out. "Where was it?"
"In the kitchen," she replied wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I guess I've been a bit distracted," he admitted, placing the toothbrush on the bathroom sink and wrapping his arms around her.
"We're getting married today," she whispered against his shoulder.
They had first considered having the wedding at the Burrow, but realized the logistics of trying to get Hermione's family there and even though Mrs. Weasley was most insistent that she share her house with them, Harry and Hermione decided that they wanted a bit of a change. So with a lot of scouting and growing frustration it was Seamus who suggested his home country. The words had barely been spoken when the couple looked at each other and instantly knew they wanted to be wed among the green hills of the Emerald Isle.
When they announced their plans to rent a castle for a week preceding the ceremony for the bridal party and immediate family everyone loved the idea. So it was on the east coast of Ireland about fifty miles south west of Dublin where the bridal party and their families found themselves nestled among the vivid green hills in a large yet cozy castle rented from a wealthy Irish family.
"It seems like just yesterday when I fell head over heels for you," he grinned against her hair.
Hermione groaned but couldn't help but chuckle. "Honestly. That was bad even for you."
Harry lifted her chin and took in her beautiful face. For all her seemingly calm demeanor he knew her well enough to recognize the tension lines around her mouth and the small frown between her eyes. He wasn't sure if it was from the uphill battle with her mother and Mrs. Weasley or from their impending nuptials. "Everything will be perfect," he murmured. "We worked so hard, I don't see how it couldn't be."
"I know," she sighed. "But my brain just won't shut down. I keep going over the list in my head and I had to charm the floo to receive calls only so I'd keep from making any floo calls to the caterer or the florist."
Harry grinned over her head, careful she wouldn't see it. "Come on. We need to get going," he murmured kissing her forehead.
Upon arriving at the location of the ceremony the bride and groom, if they have arrived together, are promptly separated to prepare.
"Hermione!" Ginny yelped, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from Harry and down the hall. "Thank Merlin! You only have three hours to get your hair and makeup done!"
Hermione turned her head and mouthed, Help me! to Harry. All he could do was lift Sirius's little hand and wave bye-bye before she disappeared around a corner leaving father and son to find the room the groomsmen were going to use.
"There he is!" Ron bellowed bounding over to his best friend when Harry arrived. He made a move to give Harry a hearty hug, but noticed the wide eyed and curious baby in his arms. "I'm surprised Hermione let Sirius out of her sight," he grinned down at his godson, running a tender finger down his soft cheek.
"I don't think she had time to comprehend that she was being separated from him when Ginny abducted her," Harry replied with a grin.
"Let me take him, you need to get ready," Arthur said stepping forward and nodding toward the suit that was hung up on the back of the door.
"Morning Malfoy," Harry chirped as he turned and released the protection charms on the dress robes and Muggle tuxedo combination tailor-made for him.
Draco smirked from where he lounged in a chair across the room. "This is a favor. We're still not friends."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied over his shoulder hiding his grin.
It is typically the job of the father of the groom to set his son aside to explain what the groom would be expected to do that night, but lately it has become popular for the groom's godfather, brothers, friends, nephews, uncles, and cousins to join in on this conversation to provide reassurance and tips as the groom often lacks experience.
Harry adjusted his bowtie to make sure it sat straight for the third time before dropping his hands to his side and rubbing the clamminess away on his thighs. "You love her. You can do this," he whispered, trying to rub away the trembling in his hands as well.
"You look so much like your father, it's a bit . . . eerie," Remus said softly from behind.
Harry turned and smiled, accepting a hug from his surrogate godfather. "Even though he can't make it, I'm glad you could."
Remus smiled and used his arm around the younger man's shoulders to guide Harry over to a pair of chairs. "Do you have time for a quick talk?"
"Of course."
They sat and Remus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Even though you're a grown man, I still feel a responsibility to you. So. Tonight you're about to become a man and I feel it is my duty to explain the logistics of the physical aspect of a male/female union," he explained in his best professor voice.
Harry's jaw dropped and he couldn't help the blush that flamed his cheeks. He looked disbelievingly over at where Ron, Arthur, Fred and George were making faces at Sirius across the room. "You're taking the mick; please tell me you're taking the mick," Harry moaned in mortification.
Remus settled back in the chair, crossing his legs, propping his elbows up on the arm rests and tenting his fingers in front of his pursed lips. "When a man and a woman love each other very much, they often wish to express that love physically."
"Remus!"
"You have a question already?"
"No! Remus, look, I'm perfectly aware of the, er, logistics of the . . . physical aspect of a male/female . . . union," Harry replied albeit very reluctantly, his face taking on a slightly green tint. "So you can spare both of us the uncomfortable conversation. Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but I think - I think I'm good on that subject. No need for The Talk here."
Remus grinned. "Your father didn't need one either."
"Oh Merlin!" Harry exclaimed with a combination of horror and revulsion. "Remus, you're a sick, sad puppy."
The older man shrugged unrepentantly with a grin that could almost be called evil. "Just doing my duty to uphold tradition."
"Or torture me."
"Or torture you," Remus agreed with an unapologetic smile despite his shrug. "Did it work?"
Harry grumbled and stood walking away to Remus's laugh.
"It's toast time! Break out the Firewhisky and shot glasses!" Ron called out brandishing an unopened bottle of Olde Ogden's to the cheers of his brothers.
While the groom, his groomsmen and his male family and friends quietly bond with a congratulatory cordial glass of liqueur, the bride and her bridesmaids prepare, reverently helping the bride into her gown and veil. Tears are often shed as the mother bids farewell to her daughter and last minute advice is given by the bride's sisters, cousins, aunts, nieces, and friends.
"Ginny, have you seen my other shoe?" Hermione called above the chaos in the changing room.
"Mum, where's my lipstick?!" Ginny called out, crouching to look under the couch for Hermione's shoe. She hid a wince from her mother's eagle eye, pausing a moment for the dull pain to subside. The birth of her second child Narcissa, Cissy for short, three weeks previous had been rough and technically she should still be in bed, but she had sworn that a little pain wasn't going to make her miss Hermione's wedding.
"Maman! Maman! Maman!" a half dressed Etienne screamed while running after Fleur who, with Luna, were trying to round up the flower girls, Hermione's little cousins.
"Hermione, you need to sit still!" her mother had to practically shout above the noise. She grappled with her daughter's unruly hair while Hermione made pained grimaces into the mirror.
"Mum, that really hurts!" Hermione winced, reflexively touching her tender scalp.
"Sorry, love. But you need to sit still. I'm almost finished, so please just two more minutes," her mother replied, her mouth full of bobby pins.
"You know, there're spells for this."
"Yes, but I don't know them, so you're just going to have to live with the hairspray, pins and hair gel."
"Mum, did you get the spare room set up for Sirius?"
"Of course dear."
"And you got the cloth nappies? The plastic ones chafe."
"Yes love, I know."
"And he hates to be faced forward when you burp him, so prop him up on your shoulder. And don't feed him after nine; he gets cranky in the morning. And don't be alarmed if the cot starts rocking, it's been spelled to do that. Oh and -"
"Hermione," her mum interrupted her taking the pins out of her mouth and placing gentle calming hands on her shoulders. She caught her eye in the mirror, whose compliments and comments were lost in the general ruckus and chaos surrounding them. "Sirius will be fine. He's my only grandbaby and your father and I will treat him with nothing but love. You may be twenty four, but it wasn't so long ago that you were in nappies too."
Hermione relaxed by degrees, loosening the tension in her shoulders. "I know mum, but he's only three months old and we've never been without him for longer than a couple of hours. We'll be gone for two weeks now and I just - I worry."
"I know, sweetheart. I know. I felt the same way. You can call as often as you like, but you cannot come home. Understood?" her mother asked sternly.
"Understood."
"Good. Now could you hand me that comb please?"
It is a tradition, though not often required, that the groom gives his groomsmen a gift. This is a well thought out, meaningful token of thanks as most groomsmen will have had traveled a goodly distance to participate in the wedding.
"Harry, I really love the cufflinks," Ron murmured, glancing over his shoulder at the group of loud talking and semi rowdy wizards and Mr. Granger, behind them. Mrs. Weasley had taken Sirius about an hour before while muttering under her breath. Harry figured his son was only three months old so any negative influence the boys might've had on him would probably be forgotten by the time he was old enough to do anything about it.
"Just don't tell Malfoy I got them for you," Harry whispered back, reaching into his luggage and pulling out a small wrapped gift. He enlarged it and turned with a smirk.
Draco watched Harry and Ron warily as they crossed the room with innocent eyes and evil smirks. "I know it's tradition to give a gift," Harry said presenting the long, yet thin box to Draco. "I didn't want you to think that I was not being a gracious host."
"Er. Thanks. I think," Draco replied accepting the gift as gingerly as he would've handled a ticking bomb.
"Go on. Open it. I promise, the twins haven't touched it," Harry said, his grin widening.
Draco looked over at the gathering crowd and noticed the genuinely curious stares of the twins. Even if they hadn't put any traps on the box, he didn't trust that evil grin for a second. Reluctantly, he ripped the wrapping off and lifted the lid. Everything seemed ok unless his face had suddenly turned a different color, but no one seemed to be laughing, so Draco had to assume it hadn't.
Inside, under two sheets of tissue was a bright bubble gum pink cummerbund. A grin quirked at Draco's lips and even he had to admit it was a funny joke. "Har har Potter. Good one."
"You're wearing it."
Draco snorted a laugh before his face slowly dropped at the expectant look on Harry's face. "You're having me on."
"No. I assure you, I'm dead serious," Harry replied, but behind that amiable grin was a steal core.
Draco glanced at the laughing Weasleys, grinning Lupin and perplexed Mr. Granger and sighed. What I do for Gin, he thought. "You do realize this war isn't over," he said taking off his navy blue cummerbund and replacing it with the bubble gum pink one.
Harry's smirk turned warm and grew. "I would be sorely disappointed if it was."
After several calming draughts and/or cheering charms, the groom makes his way to the hall where the ceremony is to take place followed by the bride who waits patiently outside the hall to be called. Originally bridesmaids in Wizarding society were loyal to the groom and the groomsmen loyal to the bride. That is why the bridesmaids and groomsmen followed the bride and groom so as to effectively block all exits. Needless to say, many weddings in the past were accomplished at wand point. Gradually as weddings shifted from unions born of necessity or contracts to unions born of love, so too shifted the choice of bridesmaid and groomsman.
Harry followed by Ron and Draco walked into the large main hall about three quarters of the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. On either side forming an aisle stood ten benches on both sides; he could only guess they had been transfigured from chairs. The benches were packed with expectant people leaving Harry to marvel that both he and Hermione had so many friends and for her, family.
Wildflowers, roses, ribbons and candles filled every available nook and cranny adding a light relief to the otherwise dreary flagstone and gray stone of the hall and the steel gray clouds outside the tall windows. He had to give credit to everyone who had helped set up and decorate the hall.
"D'you remember what to do?" Ron whispered in his ear.
"Yeah," Harry replied, glad to have a distraction from the butterflies in his stomach.
"I understand that you only had a crash course -"
"Ron, I've been doing some reading for a couple months now about wizard weddings. I think I've got it down."
"Sorry mate, don't mean to add onto your nervousness."
"It's ok."
Hermione walked down the main stairs and turned toward the heavy wood doors that opened into the main hall. Beyond those doors were about a hundred of her closest family and friends and most importantly, Harry.
She stood in a daze while Ginny and Luna straightened out her train and her mother fussed over her bouquet. She had no doubts and no reservations about marrying Harry, so why was she so nervous? She'd never been afraid of crowds before so it wasn't that. "Mum -"
"The music's starting," Ginny announced lining up her nephew and Hermione's cousins in front of Hermione while Mrs. Granger gave her daughter one last kiss and slipped off to a side entrance to join her husband.
"Are you ready?" Luna asked with a gentle smile.
Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, watching Etienne walk carefully down the aisle holding a small pillow with two rings nestled on top. The two little girls followed, tossing flowers as they went. Hermione waited a moment then stepped forward into the main hall, Luna and Ginny following a short distance behind.
The guests respectfully stood and before her attention focused solely on Harry, Hermione had time to check to see that Sirius was asleep, safely snuggled in his grandmother's arms. She could vaguely see Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Remus, Tonks, her aunt Milly, her grandpa Granger, Neville, and various Weasleys and Grangers. She knew other people she and Harry were close to were there, but it was like she was in a tunnel and it all blurred together except for Harry. He was extremely dashing and handsome in his dress robes/tuxedo, his hair still a mess, but that seemed to be the fashion among Muggles now anyway.
Harry felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. All the air left him in a soft whoosh when he caught sight of Hermione. She positively glowed in her stunningly white gown. Her hair was pulled away from her face and tamed into ringlets that tumbled down her back. Interspersed in her hair were bits of baby's breath that made her look like a forest nymph.
Then she smiled at him.
And that was it. He was done for.
Arthur Weasley stepped forward nervously smoothing out his dress robes. He had become licensed at the Ministry to perform weddings for this one occasion and perhaps for any of his sons who decided to get married later.
The vows can vary from the Ministry approved text to poems, monologues, drunken ramblings and owl eyed blinking. It truly does not matter what is said so long as the emotion is there behind it. After the vows are exchanged, four short lengths of ribbon or rope symbolizing love, prosperity, fertility, and unity are tied about the couple's hands by the bridesmaids and groomsmen. The ropes or ribbons are usually cut or untied shortly before the reception. Afterward the rings are placed on the ring fingers, a kiss is exchanged and the bride and groom face the audience as husband and wife.
"That wasn't so bad," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear as they made their way down the aisle to the applause of the audience.
"No, but I'm glad it's over." She turned her head and smiled up at him. "I love you."
"I love you too," he whispered, kissing her lips softly.
"I think someone wants his mum," Ginny said handing Hermione a softly whimpering Sirius once they reached the main foyer. A tent had been erected just beyond the front doors where the guests would be able to mingle, eat hor d'urves, and drink champaign while pictures were taken in the hall and the benches were retransfigured into chairs and tables for the reception. "And here's his bottle," Ginny added. "My mum had it."
"Thank goodness, because this dress doesn't have room for a bottle," Hermione grinned down at her son who was eagerly drinking the milk.
"Do you want me to take him while you greet everyone?" Ginny asked.
"No, that's all right. Some of my family hasn't seen Sirius yet and I'm sure you want to hold Cissy for a while."
Bench by bench the well wishers emptied out of the hall and filed past the bridal party. They bestowed hugs, kisses, handshakes, pats on the back and coo's over Sirius who had inherited his father's green eyes and black hair and his mother's curls.
The reception is often used as an excuse, if one is needed, to become thoroughly drunk. Such behavior is usually frowned upon, but often indiscretions, if they are mild, are glossed over and forgotten unless evidence can be sought to keep as blackmail. It is also the time when the bride and groom share their first meal, first drink, and first dance together. It is the true start of their life together.
"You know, I never realized how cute a couple they made," Hermione said sitting back on her chair and propping up her tired feet. She'd ditched her heels hours ago, but they were still achy from all the dancing she'd done in the past few hours.
It was approaching two in the morning and all the children had long since been put to bed. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger had volunteered to watch over the nursery while the rest of the adults continued to party in the hall. Meanwhile everyone proceeded to get drunk except for Hermione, Ginny and a reluctant Tonks who were still nursing.
"It's the contrast, black and white, green and grey, navy and pink," Ginny agreed watching her husband drunkenly slow dance with Hermione's husband out on the empty dance floor with Luna and Ron. Just about everyone had gone to bed except the bridal party. Around noon the next day everyone was going to send off the bride and groom to their honeymoon since Harry and Hermione had chosen to stay and participate in the festivities for as long as everyone else.
"If I hadn't just gotten married and if Colin hadn't just taken about ten incriminating pictures, I think I would be jealous of Draco right now," Hermione grinned taking a sip of sparkling grape juice. When she finally noticed Draco's cummerbund and the matching bowtie Harry had charmed pink, she really did want to be angry, but she was too giddy after her marriage and having too much fun to do much about it. So she did the only thing she could do: laugh.
"Uh, help! A little help please?" Harry called out. They looked over to see Harry struggling with the dead weight of a passed out Draco. Slowly, they sank to the floor, Harry trapped underneath. "This is not how I want to spend my wedding night."
"Looks like bed time for us," Ginny giggled as she stood. "Congratulations and good night."
"Thanks, you too," Hermione smiled, squeezing Ginny's hand.
"Ok, Prince of Slytherin, time to go to bed," Ginny said walking over to Draco and casting a mild enervate. "No hangover potion for you tomorrow."
"You're a mean witch," Draco groaned. He stood with a bit of support from Ginny and teetered where he stood. "Potter, you may be a git, but you sure are soft. I need a pillow."
"What you need is a sobering charm, but I'm not going to let you off that easy," Ginny replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist and leading him off toward the bedrooms upstairs.
"And how drunk are you?" Hermione asked kneeling down next to Harry.
"Purty drunk," he replied with a dopy grin up at her. "Didja hear? I got married t'day."
"Yes, I know. It was a beautiful ceremony too."
"Yeah, purty. But not as purty as my wife."
Hermione smiled and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. "Sweet talker."
He smiled up at her again before looking around him curiously. "Why does this look familililiar? You're not gonna tell me you're pregnant again are you?"
Hermione tilted back her head and laughed, startling Ron and Luna out of their half drunken, half sleepy dancing to softly bid their good nights. "No, you're safe."
"Are ya gonna pr'pose?"
"The only thing I'm going to propose is that we go to bed," she giggled.
"Tha' sounds like a wonderful plan," he said standing with her help. He was a bit wobbly, but could manage if he braced his feet far enough apart. "You're smart, so smart, smart, but I love you, didja know that?"
Hermione smiled up at him and kissed him softly. "Actually, I did know. Did you know I love you?"
"Hmm . . . yep! I'm smart too!"
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