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Author: Imogen Story: Alpha and Omega Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 3 Words: 99,172
Chapter 13: Two Hands, One Heart "My true-love hath my heart and I have his, By just exchange one for the other given" ~ Sir Philip Sidney "Harry?" Ron's voice broke through his reverie at the breakfast table, making him jump and shake himself back into the present. "Are you sure you're OK?" "Yeah," Harry muttered shortly, feeling worse than ever. He buried his head back in his hands. His pre-wedding jitters seemed to be escalating, worsened by the fact that Hermione had insisted that it was bad luck to see the bride before the actual wedding ceremony itself. Despite the fact that this was a Muggle tradition rather than a wizarding one, Hermione was not going to be budged on the matter. Consequently, a certain red-headed figure who would have reassured him, was closeted away somewhere in the girls' dormitories in Gryffindor Tower, leaving Harry feeling like a Niffler was plucking at his tautly strung nerves jangling out a tune. "Toast?" Ron offered, cheerfully grinning at his best friend. "Well, you need something to go with the butter you're wearing on your robes." Harry groaned and removed his elbow from the butter dish, savagely scrubbing off the worst of the mess with his napkin. Thankfully it was still very early for breakfast, and the tables were so sparsely scattered, that no one else appeared to have noticed. He toyed with a solitary piece of toast on his plate, feeling even sicker at the merest thought of eating anything. His stomach surged and churned unpleasantly, and he eventually threw the slice of toast back down, untouched. He shifted restlessly in his chair. This was even worse than the way he felt before a vital Quidditch match. Ginny was the person he loved with all his heart, he knew that with an unshakeable certainty, but all the same little elements of doubt began to attack like poisoned darts, making him flinch more with each successive hit. What if she changed her mind? What if it all got too much for her and she didn't show up? What if she just didn't love him enough to be his wife? His hand shook as he reached out to pour himself some pumpkin juice, and the jug slid beyond his grasp and toppled sideways with a resounding clang. The liquid splashed everywhere, spreading out into a small lake, the deep orange colour of which reminded Harry of some of the shades in Ginny's hair, and he stared at it in fascination. It had looked just like that, spread out over the sofa in the firelight last night. Just like that. He warmed at the memory. Ron laughed. "I've not seen you do that for ages," he chuckled, beginning to mop up the mess. "The last time you were so accident prone was when you'd gone all mushy over my little sister and didn't dare ask her out. What are you going to do next? Lose the ability to string a sentence together?" "Probably," Harry grinned half-heartedly. He picked up his toast and began to shred it absentmindedly onto his plate. "She'll be there," Ron muttered as emphatically as he could without danger of being overheard. "You mean everything to her, and you know that. Stop worrying." Harry smiled at Ron's oddly perceptive comment. "Easier said than done," he sighed. He looked anxiously across at Ron as another doubt stabbed at him and leant forward. "You have still got those rings somewhere safe, haven't you?" "Somewhere," Ron said vaguely, patting his pockets with a puzzled expression. "I just wish I could remember where exactly." The look on Harry's face must have spoken volumes, as Ron collapsed into fits of laughter. Before Harry had a chance to protest, a whooshing fluttering of snowy-white wings distracted him as Hedwig swooped gracefully down to him, nipping his fingers affectionately in her beak. Harry frowned as he unravelled the parchment from her leg, wondering who on earth could have written to him using Hedwig. As far as he'd been aware his owl had spent the past few days in the owlery following her return from Sirius. He glanced at the note and suddenly everything became clear. Ginny's surprisingly neat and precise script adorned the page, and he felt his heart leap in sheer relief. "Dear Harry, I honestly think Hermione's missed her vocation in life; she should have been a guard in Azkaban or something. I've been trying to get past her to see you this morning, but I've not managed it… yet! Luckily Hedwig turned up at the window, so at least I know you'll get this. I hope you're OK about all of this, and not too nervous, and more than anything I hope that brother of mine is behaving himself and not winding you up even more. Poke him in the eyes from me if he tries. See you at two this afternoon if I can't work out any other way to break through this charm on the door. There's got to be something… Love you, now and always. Ginny." Ron looked quizzically across the table at Harry's chuckle. Harry shook his head and read through the note a second time imagining what Ginny must be up to. For a fleeting second he almost felt sorry for Hermione. Almost. "It's from Ginny," he explained at last, grinning happily. "She sounds fine." "What did you expect?" Ron laughed at him. "Hermione's hardly going to feed her to the nearest dragon is she? Harry, will you stop worrying!" Ron scraped his chair backwards and got to his feet. "Well, if you're quite finished reducing your toast to confetti and you're not going to eat anything else, let's go and play a bit of Quidditch. It'll probably take your mind off things." "Sounds good to me," Harry said, abandoning the shreds of his breakfast and heading outside to release some of his pent-up nervous energy on a Bludger. ***** Just after lunch, Harry stood at the window of the Gryffindor common room watching the bulk of the school hurrying out towards Hogsmeade in little clumps of warm black cloaks, their excited voices floating upwards in a babble of indistinguishable chatter. The knot of nerves was beginning to tighten unpleasantly in his stomach once more, and he turned sharply, with the intention of heading to his dormitory, but stopped short, almost colliding with Ginny's fan club. Harry groaned inwardly. This day was just getting better and better. He surveyed their eager faces surrounding him and realised that there was no way out. "Er… so how's the poetry going?" Harry hazarded wildly, wondering how he could ease surreptitiously past them and sprint for the dormitory stairs. "Really good," the smallest of the four boys piped up, grinning enthusiastically from ear to ear. "Ginny's even been reading her favourite ones to us." "That's great, Casper," Harry said, trying to sound convincingly interested, whilst his mind was engaged on working out an escape route. "Astor," the boy corrected firmly, staring hard at Harry. Harry fleetingly wondered how on earth Ginny coped with these irritating kids as well as she did. She was actually incredibly tolerant of them for the most part, however much they pestered her, and he'd actually spotted her earlier in the week reading patiently to them at the far end of the common room. He reflected on how different they were. After all, when he had had a fan club… He froze, suddenly realising for the first time how much he must have hurt her when they were younger. Ginny's love had always been given to him unconditionally, almost from their very first meeting, and it had taken him almost five years to realise that he felt exactly the same way. "Harry," Philip said irresolutely, interrupting Harry's musings. "We… um… we were wondering if Ginny's all right. We haven't seen her today." "She's fine," Harry replied, sincerely hoping that she hadn't done anything too drastic to herself in her attempts to get past Hermione's magical barrier charm. "She's probably just getting her stuff sorted out before we head over to see my Godfather this afternoon. I promise, I'll bring her back for you tomorrow," he added as an afterthought, seeing identical expressions of disappointment cross all four faces. He frowned heavily at them. "Why don't you have a game of gobstones or something?" he asked desperately in a flash of inspiration. "With most people in Hogsmeade, you've got acres of space here for a change." "Haven't got any," Marcus replied dully. "And we're sick of exploding snap." "Tell you what," Harry said, seizing hold of this sliver of an opportunity with all of his might. "I've got a set upstairs you can borrow for a while. Give me a chance to get my things packed and I'll bring them back down with me. How does that sound?" There were fervent nods from all four boys, and Harry gratefully slid through their clutches to the strains of a high-pitched voice squeaking enthusiastically to his friend, "Maybe that's why Ginny likes him? He's got gobstones and a Firebolt too." Harry choked back the fits of laughter as he bounded up the welcome darkness of the dormitory stairs, wondering if the day could possibly become more surreal than it was already. He slammed the door firmly behind him, leaning against it for a second and closing his eyes. His heart thudded uneasily in his chest and he breathed deeply, thankful to be alone for a while. Opening his eyes again, he glanced around the room and pushed his glasses back up his nose. To keep his nerves in check, he knew he had to keep busy, so he strode purposefully to his trunk to hunt out the gobstones. Lifting the lid, he had to laugh aloud. Somehow, and heaven only knew how, Ginny had managed to escape from Hermione for long enough to steal his freshly laundered socks. "Well impressed," he chuckled to himself, rummaging beneath some old copies of Which Broomstick towards the bottom of his trunk. He hadn't played gobstones in ages, but he knew they were down there somewhere, probably with some of Uncle Vernon's old socks that even Ginny wouldn't steal. He burrowed deeper, past old letters from Ron and Hermione. There was all sorts of rubbish buried there, Harry reflected as he excavated past an ostentatiously autographed copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's 'Magical Me'. Harry decided there and then that he needed to have a good clear out when they got back. Finally his fingers closed around the soft canvas sack containing the gobstones, and he hauled them out, almost jumping out of his skin as something began singing shrilly. A slow grin spread widely across his face, as he realised what it was. He reached into his trunk once more and removed the infamous Get Well card that Ginny had once made, and blushed so profusely when she had eventually dared to take it up to the hospital wing for him. He sat, propping his back up against the foot of his bed and opened the card, reading the message within and listening to the hideous noise with the happiest of hearts. His mind was filled with images of Ginny; the shy brown eyes peering around her bedroom door when he had first visited The Burrow; her chin set in determination when he had cast the Imperius Curse on her; her irrepressible giggles in McGonagall's office the other night; the look in her eyes when Voldemort had cast the Avada Kedavara. Harry shuddered, blotting out the image that still cast a cold shadow of fear over his heart. He quickly sought out a happier memory. Last night. He smiled, remembering the feel of her against him, her kisses, her scent. A snatched moment of pure contentment in her arms, backs turned against a world where chaos reigned. He wondered if she was really disappointed that her parents wouldn't be there this afternoon. He had seen the hurt in the darkness of her eyes, but he understood their reasoning. With the violence and savagery shown during the Death Eater attack on Bristol, it would be foolish to draw any attention towards Ginny by this unusual journey to Hogwarts. As much as he wanted everything to be perfect for her, her parents were right, and they all knew it. Harry remembered lifting her chin gently in his hand, watching the firelight ripple her hair as he gazed at her, offering a compromise of a second wedding ceremony in the summer, after their child had been born. The danger would be lessened then, and she could have the Muggle-style wedding she had always wanted, with friends and family, when they no longer had to hide their commitment to each other from the world. The door creaked open. "Are you ready?" Ron's nervous voice broke the stillness. ***** Harry's anxiety was surging to a crescendo as he paused by the familiar statue at the foot of Dumbledore's tower. He leaned against it for support feeling rather ill, his clammy hand pushing his hair back off his forehead, as he shakily gave the password of Dumbledore's latest Muggle confectionary discovery. "Pontefract cakes." The door opened smoothly, and Harry glanced quickly over at Ron, his heart beating unsteadily and his throat sandpaper dry. He wiped his palms hastily on his robes. It seemed that the fear was infectious, even Ron was looking paler than usual at the realisation of what was about to happen. Harry swallowed nervously as they stepped onto the staircase, which rotated smoothly until they reached the very apex of the tower. Dumbledore greeted them warmly, and beckoned them into his office, which appeared completely differently to the way Harry had ever seen it before. Despite the pale October sunlight, which filtered in through windows elsewhere in the castle, the circular office was somehow cast in velvety darkness, illuminated only by a few candles floating gently in mid-air. The furnishings themselves, such as Dumbledore's great desk and the soft chairs, had been spirited away elsewhere, and the ornately patterned crimson rug had been rolled aside, revealing the polished shine of the wooden flooring beneath. A soft knock sounded at the door, making Harry's heart leap within his chest, pounding with anticipation. "Ginny," he breathed, catching sight of the familiar flowing coppery hair in the doorway. She stood on the threshold, looking very pale and uncertain as she surveyed the room. He pushed his way past Ron to envelop her in a hug. The familiar sensation of Ginny within his embrace, the warmth of her cheek pressed against his and her wayward hair tickling his nose, steadied his turbulent emotions. He looked into her dark brown eyes, smiling delightedly at her and gently caressing her cheek. "Ginny," he whispered again, barely able to believe she was there. "Horribly nerve-wracking, isn't it?" she commented dryly, pulling a face and hugging him back. "Hermione's been driving me mad all morning with this rubbish about not being able to see you." Harry chuckled and glanced across the room to Hermione, seeing her engrossed in conversation with Ron. "She looks as if she's survived," he teased. "You've not made her grow three heads or anything." "Not yet," Ginny countered, her eyes twinkling wickedly in anticipation. "Are you both ready?" Dumbledore's voice interrupted gently. Harry gazed at Ginny, and felt her shaking slightly beneath his touch. She smiled up at him in such a way that he could only smile back, simply loving her. A world of unspoken understanding passed between them before Harry nodded slightly. "We're ready," she said clearly, shaking her hair back of her face and turning to face Dumbledore. Harry felt the ache of her disappearing from his arms, and clutched at her hand. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly. "Very well," Dumbledore said quietly, gesturing to two chalk circles drawn beside each other on the floor. "If you would take your places, then we can begin." Footsteps resonated through the stillness of the room, until they stood, each in their own sphere, separated only by a few feet of air. Harry tore his eyes from Ginny and fixed them on Dumbledore, a sort of nervous, yet excited, energy consuming him. The venerable wizard was cast into clearer relief by the shimmering candlelight that drifted instantly in his direction when he began a slowly muttered incantation beneath his breath. The candlelight flickered and Dumbledore waved his wand over the two figures before him, plunging the room into darkness. Hermione gasped loudly, but before Harry even had a chance to react, new light began to ignite and sparkle into life once more; not candles this time, but rather a more ethereal vision. Stars, planets and moons swayed into clearer focus before him, glinting against the deep ebony air. The vision surrounded him completely, rather like a cylinder, and Harry stared at it in awe, admiring the planets and constellations before him. With a sudden jolt he recognised the particular formation. Surely it couldn't be. Could it? After Dumbledore's revelation in the summer, he had rather sheepishly worked out his birth chart properly, and the plotting he had done on paper looked remarkably similar to the astrological vision he was currently engulfed by. Harry frowned and mentally plotted the chat anew, stunned to discover that it was exactly the same. This was his destiny. He glanced across at Ginny, to find her staring upwards, entirely entranced by the beauty of the scene. Her planets showed a different pattern to that of his own, and Harry finally understood. Slowly the two planetary cylinders began to move towards each other, drawing their occupants together within them. Harry held his breath as they touched, then merged, easing together to form a single, larger, circle. Ginny reached for his hands and held them tightly in hers, never ceasing to gaze at the wonder that formed a barrier between them and the outside world. They rotated slowly, marvelling, as past, present and future blended as one. "Marriage is never something to be taken lightly," Dumbledore's gentle tones floated through the magic. "As you can see around you, it is the joining of two lives and two destinies in one; magically binding for all eternity." A shared smile greeted these words, their hands clutching tightly still. "When you are ready, please declare your intentions," Dumbledore added, his quiet voice carrying easily through the thick silence of the room. Harry looked into Ginny's face, the warmth of love for her filling his veins and lightening his heart with happiness. The nervousness seemed to have vanished, and her dark eyes glistened adoringly in the starlight, never leaving his. "Harry," her voice was low, yet filled with emotion. "You have given me so much; I owe my very life to you. I am yours, by wizarding bond of honour, and by choice. I love you with all that I am, with heart and soul. My future is yours; good times and bad I want to share with you, now and always as your wife." "Ginny," Harry choked through the lump thickening in his throat. He'd known how she'd felt for so long, but to hear it articulated like that tore at him. "What I've done to deserve someone as wonderful as you in my life is something I'll never understand, but I am so grateful that you love me. You've shared so much with me, laughter, tears, and you've even let me have my socks back from time to time." He grinned at her and she giggled quietly. "I am yours always, whatever the future brings. I belong to you. I love you." No sooner had Harry stopped speaking, than the stars and planets that had surrounded them faded from view, leaving them alone. Candles slowly flickered and gleamed once more, casting the room with soft light. "The rings?" Dumbledore asked, his bright blue eyes twinkling reassuringly through the half-light. There was the sound of frantic rummaging, and some hurried whispering from behind them. A thunk and an agonised yelp followed. "Honestly!" they heard Hermione's exasperated tones very distinctly. Harry glanced over at Ginny and then looked away swiftly, both fighting back laughter. Finally Ron located the rings and offered them to Dumbledore, grinning rather sheepishly across at his sister and best friend. Dumbledore carefully placed the golden rings on the great heavy tome he held in his hands, Ginny's ring residing, safely protected, within the confines of Harry's own. With a flourish of his wand, the book levitated in mid air between them, this symbol of their commitment clear for all to see. Soft strains of music echoed gently through the darkness of the room, and three glowing orbs of coloured light drifted gently towards them. They hovered beside the book, and as Harry squinted slightly at them, he was amazed to see that the yellowish shimmering sphere had shape. He could see a tiny crowned female form, adorned in robes of flowing golden gossamer, a sprite, fluttering through the air on her fragile wings. She stretched her hand over the rings, magic visibly falling from her fingers in glittering fragments of dust. Her voice flowed like a song, soft and melodious, warming those who heard her through to their very core. "Prosperity and happiness I offer you, Togetherness all the days of your lives. May each day that passes bring joy anew And increasing love for husband and wife." She drifted from the fore, to be replaced by a glow of greener hue, a sprite of nature robed in vine leaves. She followed suit, and cast her blessing upon them. "Season changes into season, and so The love you share has changed and grown. Blessings of children soon shall follow A joyous harvest from what was sown." The final sprite shimmered into view, and cast a breathtaking rainbow, arching high above their rings, and illuminating the book in the full spectrum of vibrant shades, rather like sunlight shining through stained glass. The little lilac creature, smiled sweetly at them before beginning her song. "Rainbow moments shimmer softly Glowing light, a bow of colour, Gives life richness through air so lofty, Hope I give you, never dolour." Harry suddenly realised that he had been holding his breath as the tiny sprites chanted a final blessing on them and quite literally vanished into the ether like a breath of wind. The book drifted purposefully in their direction, hovering at elbow height as they made their vows with Dumbledore's prompting. Harry gazed deeply into Ginny's eyes. There was no world beyond her, as he promised to protect her and gave himself to her. She smiled softly, repeating her vows and clearly meaning every word she said. She was his. He picked up the smaller of the two rings from the book, and gently slid it onto her finger, happiness welling up inside him. Ginny carried out the same task, smiling up at him, knowing their bond was complete at last. They were husband and wife. "Thou art my life, my love, my heart," she whispered, quoting from the poem that meant so much to them. Harry touched her cheek, and finished off this strangely appropriate verse. "And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee." Silence filled the room. Harry smiled in stunned amazement at her, feeling the happiness almost bursting out of him. Their lips met, and they were lost in the world of each other and their embrace. They finally broke apart, to discover Dumbledore smiling benevolently at them, and daylight beginning to filter through the darkness that had surrounded them. Harry hugged Ginny tightly to him, still scarcely able to believe what had just happened. "Many congratulations," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled at them. He nodded slowly. "Every happiness to you both. Now if you will excuse me for a few moments, I must send a couple of things through to Sirius to act as a decoy, in case the story of your absence leaks out." He smiled at them and headed towards the doorway, before pausing and turning. "I understand that some things are traditional on occasions such as this," he chuckled, and waved his wand, producing a rather elaborate wedding cake, and a bottle of champagne. "Some celebration is certainly in order, and I hope you will take advantage of this opportunity to create a lot of noise and mess." The door swung shut behind him, and a sobbing Hermione flung herself at Harry and Ginny, kissing them both. "Hermione!" Harry protested. "Sorry," she sniffled, burying her face back in her handkerchief. "That was lovely though. I've been reading all about wizarding weddings, and I know they're unique to the couple involved, but I never expected it to be quite like that. That was… that was…" "Wonderful," Ron finished off for her. He grinned at them both, and hugged his little sister so hard that she began to tease him by making choking noises. "I can't believe you're actually married, Gin," he said, sounding completely incredulous. "My baby sister, married? It's amazing. Somebody actually wanted you." "Not just anyone," Ginny chuckled. "Harry." She grinned up at him, biting her lip as if she could barely believe it herself. "It's great," Ron admitted, clasping Harry's arm and grinning widely. "I suppose if I've got to develop yet another brother, at least it's you." "Noise and mess?" Ginny giggled, unwrapping the foil from the neck of the bottle, her eyes glinting mischievously as she aimed the cork at her brother. "I think we can do that." ***** Harry glanced across the chessboard at Ginny, and felt the quivering nervousness in his stomach intensify. Her face was half hidden in shadow by the masses of russet and copper that tumbled over her shoulders as she leaned over to examine the pieces. He knew every single freckle scattered across her nose even better than he knew his Firebolt, and watched the furrowed concentration clearly visible across her brow. She gave a little exclamation of annoyance, and swept her hair back from her face, twisting it up easily and skewering it in place at the nape of her neck with her wand. Little tendrils began to escape immediately, shining mischievously in the glow of the blazing fire in the grate. He reached forwards, drawn to them so irresistibly, and touched them, his fingers brushing the warmth of her neck beneath. Brown eyes widened, and raised to meet his own, blazing with love for him. He swallowed awkwardly, and let his hand fall. "It's really odd without everyone else around, isn't it?" he said, trying to fill the void of silence that surrounded them before real panic set in. "Well, it would be a little tricky, not to mention embarrassing, doing this with everyone else here," she laughed, sitting back comfortably in her chair. "I think Ron would have heart failure for a start." The nerves Harry had been suffering from for most of the evening, surged upwards most unpleasantly, and he leapt to his feet, catching the chessboard with his leg and scattering the pieces all over the rug. There were yells of protest from the chessmen as helmets were bounced off the hearth, and the white queen landed head first in a nearby plant pot. Ignoring the devastation he had just caused to an entire civilisation, Harry dashed across to the window and opened it, leaning heavily on the sill and drinking in the crisp night air of autumn. Trembling slightly, he rested his forehead against the coolness of the pane and looked out. He had never been in this part of the castle before, and there had been a spectacular view across the grounds to the Forbidden Forest earlier in the day. Now only black silhouettes stood out in the inky blueness of the cloudless sky, stars glittering through the darkness. A pair of arms slid comfortingly around his waist, and he felt Ginny's body press against his own, her head leaning in between his shoulder blades. He mentally shook himself, and turned to hug her tightly. "I know I'd have won anyway," she teased, "but that's no reason to go galloping off in the middle of a game." "Sorry," he said, feeling his cheeks begin to glow. "I-I just needed a bit of fresh air." "What is it?" she whispered, stroking a soothing hand across the tenseness of his back. "Harry?" "Nothing really," he said apologetically. "It's not you or anything. I never thought it'd be quite like this though. I suppose I always had these stupid visions of sweeping you off your feet on the spur of the moment. This is all so premeditated, it's sort of making me a bit… er… well, nervous really." "I'd have never guessed," she chuckled, reaching up to kiss him. "So how come you're so calm about the whole thing?" he demanded curiously. "You think this is calm?" she said incredulously. "Harry, I almost ran away from everything earlier." "Did you?" he asked in amazement. "Too true," she smiled and wrinkled her nose at him. "Hermione had to physically stop me this morning when I was halfway out the portrait hole, and pointed out just what I was running away from." "And what was that?" he grinned down at her. "You," she said softly, her brown eyes looking quite shyly up at him, reminding him suddenly of how she used to be around him when she was younger. "And this." She caught his left hand in hers, and Harry saw the unfamiliar gold band on his third finger glinting softly in the candlelight. He interlaced their fingers, feeling the two rings rubbing gently together, and smiled. "They'll have to be hidden when we go back," he said rather regretfully, lifting her hand and kissing it. "But we still have tonight," she said in a low tone that made Harry's heart begin to beat erratically.
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