A/N: Greetings. This is my entry into the simplypotterhead's Ollivander's Challenge showdown on tumblr. My prompt was Ron and Hermione's wedding with other Weasleys involved in the dialogue. This is what I did. It doesn't have a lot to do with weddings.
Disclaimer: Robert Galbraith owns Harry Potter
After years of battles and exams, death and destruction, Quidditch trophies and more of Molly Weasley's cooking than any one human should ever consume, Harry Potter found himself back where his story began - in a cupboard.
It was a different cupboard admittedly. It wasn't under some stairs in Surrey this time, but in a kitchen in Devon. He could leave anytime he wanted as well which wasn't always the case in the old cupboard. This new one had rammed shelves along all three walls instead of a peeling coat of paint and no bed, but it did have enough spiders to make Harry feel a touch nostalgic.
Of course a lot had changed since his cupboard years. In those days he never expected to have any friends and now his two best friends were at the loud party he could hear going on outside in the garden. The fact that it was their wedding reception was another thing to try and get his head around. Wasn't it just yesterday that they were tiny children with squeaky voices and the biggest commitment they ever had to make was choosing which pudding they had at dinner?
Well, no. That had been ten years ago - something that made Harry feel very old indeed.
Thoughts of tiny children brought him back to why he was in this kitchen cupboard in the first place and another huge, unexpected development in his life - his Godson. Somewhere outside Teddy Lupin was rushing around, desperately trying to find Harry's brilliant hiding place. After being tied up with the ceremony all day, Harry hadn't been able to play with him until an hour ago when he was dragged into a game of hide and seek. Stupidly Harry had agreed, forgetting how seriously Teddy took these games. After being berated by the three year old for not trying (although he really had been) Harry had decided to bring out the big guns and hid in the Burrow's kitchen cupboard, hoping Teddy couldn't reach the door handle. He'd told Andromeda his plan so she could help Teddy find him eventually, but that wouldn't be for at least half an hour knowing him.
Just as Harry leant against the shelf on the far wall, feeling as though he had done a good job, his illusion of safety was shattered when the door crashed open.
Harry instinctively raised his wand only to find George Weasley staring at him, looking rather surprised.
"O-kay," he panted. There was a noise from just outside the kitchen door and George threw himself into the cupboard and slumped against the closed door.
"What have you done?" Harry asked once George seemed willing to talk. In the dull light coming from the tiny window over the door he could see that George's dress robes were disheveled and there was a smear of pink lipstick on his cheek.
"Nothing," George replied casually. "Can a man not hide in a cupboard without having his motives questions?"
"No," said Harry bluntly. He noticed that George had brought a faint whiff of boiled cabbage in with him. "Especially when that man is you. You haven't done anything innocently since the eighties."
George appeared to consider this for a moment before shrugging. "Fair point. Could have even been the seventies though." He pushed himself off the door and came to stand next to Harry.
"I may have done something foolish, which requires me to lay low for a while," George explained with an air of dignity, wiping the lipstick from his cheek.
"Well, that's that cleared up."
Glancing down at Harry's stony expression, George furrowed his brow for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face.
"You know there was that prune dessert thing on the buffet? The one no one in their right mind likes? So naturally Aunt Muriel can't get enough of the stuff?"
"Yeah," said Harry slowly, a terrible sense of foreboding gripping him.
"Well, I may have spiked it with something," George grinned evilly.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Hang on," he said, looking back at George, "didn't you promise Hermione you wouldn't bring any Wheezes products to the wedding?"
The reminder of his promise made to a very stern looking Hermione caused George's face to slip down a few places on the Smug Scale but he was otherwise unfazed.
"Yeah, but this was a prototype," he explained. "Not an actual product."
Harry gaped at him. "You've unleashed an untested Wheeze on Muriel at Hermione's wedding?"
"Gotta live dangerously if you want the galleon, my friend," George winked.
Harry had ridden dragons, fought a gigantic basilisk and deliberately angered Severus Snape on multiple occasions and even he thought that George was living a bit too dangerously here.
"So," Harry exhaled, dreading the reply, "what exactly were you trying to do and, more importantly, what has actually happened?"
"Picture the scene - you're at a wedding," George enthused, holding his hands up.
"Difficult, but I'll try," deadpanned Harry.
"And there's always that one relative who never joins in with the festivities," George continued, now in full salesmen mode. "Well, I'm trying to fix that. Make them the life and or soul. I've worked out a concoction that makes people eighty per-cent more likely to dance and do karaoke. It's been fully tested on Ron so I know that bit works. The only issue is making them do the little knee skids across the floor. I can't get the two potions to work when put together."
Watching George's frustration and thoughtful expression Harry knew there was a trail of destruction outside and his desire to stay in the cupboard tripled. "What has happened to Muriel?" he asked. At first he thought she might have become violent but then Harry took in George's untidy dress robes and mussed hair.
"In laymans terms?" George swallowed, straightening his tie. "It appears to have become an aphrodisiac of sorts."
"What?" Harry snorted. "What do you mean of sorts?"
"I mean that she only has eyes for me," George replied. For the first time since Harry had met him, he blushed. "It's great news for our Love Potion range, but it's bad news for anyone wishing to spend his day dancing with his very unhelpful girlfriend and teasing his little brother."
Harry tried not to, he really did, but the image of Angelina roaring with laughter while George unsuccessfully ran away from a randy Muriel was too much and soon he was doubled over laughing.
"Keep laughing," George said lightly, "and I'll work out a way to set her on you."
Before Harry could stop himself or George could make good on his threat, the door was flung open again. Someone small had darted inside, unaware in their haste that the cupboard was fuller than they expected, causing them to barrel into it's occupants.
"Oof," George exclaimed, rubbing his stomach. "Watch it!"
"Watch what?" whispered Ginny as she straightened up, pushing her hair out of her face. "This is a cupboard! You're not supposed to be in here!"
"Neither are you," Harry pointed out and received a glare for his efforts.
"You know that blond bloke with the glasses? From Ron's work?" she said angrily.
"The trainee?" Harry asked, picturing the person he had seen following a grumpy Ron around the office like he was his hero. "Miller?"
"Did you know he is a huge Harpies fan?" Ginny gritted out.
Harry did know but something about Ginny's expression told him that now was not the time for the truth.
"I have spent the past hour and a half talking about the history of the Harpies in such detail that I am now convinced Hermione did his research for him!" she shouted, making both men cower. They had enough experience of Ginny's temper to know when to just let her rant it out. "And once we had finally finished with the history, we of course had to discuss the teams current standing."
"But you're top of the league at the minute?" Harry pointed out, hoping this happy information would calm his girlfriend. "What did he have to complain about?"
"Nothing!" rounded Ginny. "In fact, he thinks we're easily the best seven the league has seen since Bagman's Wasps and that we make the Tornadoes look like a mild breeze," she said in a remarkable impersonation of Miller's enthusiastic voice.
Harry glanced at George who, thankfully, looked as confused as he felt.
"What's wrong with that?" he shrugged. As soon as George has spoke, Harry knew he had made a mistake.
"We're only top by goal difference! It's not like we're walking it or anything. Johnson has put a fantastic Tornadoes team together this year but this Miller seems to think we've got in the bag and nothing can touch us. Do you have any idea how annoying and boring it is to be told how utterly perfect you are past the point of embarrassment?" Ginny exclaimed.
George smirked. "Yes."
Ginny punched him in the arm. "I mean, I like talking to fans," she said, turning to Harry, her voice softer now. "You know I do. It's great, even when they're critical but this..." She trailed off, shaking her head. Suddenly she looked up, eyes flicking between their faces, and frowned. "Why are you two in here?"
"Seeing the sights," George said, surreptitiously smoothing out a crease in his robes before turning to Harry. "So what's it like not being the famous one in the relationship anymore? Will you be leaving my little sister for someone else now that she is Ginny Weasley: Super Chaser Supreme?"
"Of course not," scoffed Harry, reaching out to pull Ginny into a hug. "To be honest it's a relief that she gets more attention than I do."
Her bad mood evaporating almost completely, Ginny went on her tip toes to kiss Harry on the nose. "You're still famous to me, babe" she said sweetly.
"Stop calling me that."
She trailed a finger along his jawline. "You're just saying that because George is here-"
"Something I'd really like you both to keep in mind," George muttered.
"At home you're fine with it," Ginny continued innocently, now batting her eyelashes. "You're always saying 'But, Gin-Gin, how can I possibly-'"
"Carry on like that," Harry warned, "and I'll invite Miller around for tea next week."
Ginny pouted. "Spoil sport."
Harry smiled down at Ginny who gave him a wink. This easy banter was one of the main reasons he loved her. In a world where he was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, he found a girl who thought of him as Harry, just Harry, the awkward skinny bloke who couldn't take a hint and waged a constant war against his own hair. While everyone else told stories of him fighting Dementors and defeating Voldemort, she preferred the ones about him losing his glasses and the time he had come home from the Leaky one night with a twig he was convinced was another Elder Wand. Somehow being her "bloody idiot" meant more to him than being the world's saviour.
"You know," Ginny said cheekily, playing with his tie, "I had dreamt of dragging you into an enclosed space today, but I didn't really picture it being with George."
As he felt his cheeks reddening, Harry's eyes flicked to the brother in question, who looked faintly nauseous.
"Disgusting," he spat as Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. "Fred would be horrified by your behaviour, missy."
"What?" Ginny laughed. "Fred would be in the kitchen, trying to throw dungbombs under the door."
"Yeah," George said fondly, shaking his head. "And as his official representative left on Earth," he added with a stern expression, "it is my duty to kick you two out of here to prevent any funny business."
"What? No, we weren't- I'd never- Not at a wedding-" choked Harry. He sent Ginny a pleading look for back-up.
Instead of preventing his oncoming heart attack, she shrugged. "I was considering it."
Harry glowered at her as her eyes shined with mirth. Even after all these years she still found it hilarious to put him in these situations in front of her brothers.
"Look, we can't all stay in here," he said, trying to bring the conversation away from he may or may not want to do with Ginny in a cupboard. "So how about you both go back to the wedding-"
"Excuse me?" spluttered George. "Me? Go back out there? Where my life is endangered? No chance!"
And he folded his arms as if to say that that was that.
Of course, no argument with Ginny Weasley involved could ever be solved by something so simple.
"You've done something," she mused, eyeing her brother suspiciously as he forced his face to look guilt-free. It wasn't long before Ginny was shaking her finger at him knowingly. "You're the reason Aunt Muriel is currently like a crup on heat, aren't you?"
"I honestly don't know-"
"Last time I saw her she was dancing with Seamus Finnigan."
"Maybe she has a thing for his accent?"
Ginny glared at him.
"Okay, I may or may not have tested a new product on her," George said very quickly, "but until you have proof I will maintain my innocence."
"I can't go out there without getting hounded," Ginny stated, "but you brought this on yourself. Reap what you sow."
A muscle in George's jaw twitched. Harry knew he couldn't fault her logic and was struggling to find a way around it. After a couple of seconds, George's face lit up and Harry could practically see the cartoon lightbulb appear above his head.
"Harry should leave!" he exclaimed, pointing at him excitedly. "He's the best man! His services may be required."
The best man gulped at two pairs of brown eyes turned to look at him conspiratorially.
"But-but I've done all my best man stuff!" he spluttered, backing up until he was pressed against a shelf. "After the speeches, I'm useless!"
"I wouldn't say that," Ginny smirked. "You've still got to get off with a bridesmaid."
George made a gagging noise. "In that case, I'm definitely not leaving."
As he opened his mouth, either to defend himself against George or think of a reason he had to stay in the cupboard - he hadn't yet decided - Harry jumped when something fell against the door. All three of them froze, clearly convinced that their individual predators had found them and they were seconds away from being humiliated, irritated or, in George's case... well, it wasn't worth thinking what would happen to George.
"Door... d-door, open!" came a slurred voice from outside. The cupboard's occupants sagged with relief when they realised it wasn't anyone they were hiding from. "Allowymory!"
"Does that door even lock?" Ginny whispered.
Harry shook his head.
"C'mon, door!" the voice continued. "Don'... don't be like that. Lemme in."
"Isn't that Charlie?" Harry breathed, looking at the Weasleys either side of him.
"Think so," replied George as they heard what sounded like someone falling over a chair outside.
"Is he drunk?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's Charlie and a wedding."
"Hang... a minute - that you, Ginny?" Charlie asked. There was another bang against the door. Apparently he was now leaning against it.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Lemme in. The door won't do... door stuff."
"I'm not going to let you in, Charlie," she called back in a voice that you might use when talking to a small child.
There was a noise that was somewhere between an injured dog and a sob. "Please! I need to piss."
"Charlie, mate, this isn't the toilet," George sniggered as Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. At least it was Charlie and not Hagrid who was also pretty drunk last time he had seen him, he thought. He wasn't entirely sure if they'd have been able to stop a half giant with a full bladder.
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, now sounding very confused.
"This is the kitchen cupboard."
"Yeah, but I need to piss so lemme in," he argued. "I-I have fought dragons!"
"And I've got a Chosen One and I'm not afraid to use him!" threatened George.
"Shut up, Ron!" Charlie countered.
Harry looked at George, who was silently mouthing the word "Ron" while looking more wounded than Harry had ever seen him before.
"Look," Harry jumped in, feeling a Weasley sibling fight was the last thing they needed now, second only to another Weasley joining them in the cupboard, "Charlie, this isn't the loo."
"Oh." He sounded almost upset by the news. "Where is it, then?"
Ginny frowned. "You lived here for eighteen years."
"Yeah," chuckled Charlie as though Ginny was behaving like an imbecile, "no - only 6 of them count."
George, Ginny and Harry looked at each other, each face more bewildered than the last. Before Harry had even begun to question the logic of Charlie's words, George had shrugged.
"Second floor, first door you see."
"Ah, cheers," Charlie said sounding far more touched by his brother's assistance than was probably warranted.
Once they had listened to the older Weasley brother stumble from the kitchen, Harry turned to George, his brow knitted in confusion. "Isn't that Percy's room?"
George looked at Harry side-on, an evil glint in his eye that told him he was very aware that it was Percy's room and Harry vowed never to mistake him for Ron.
"Okay," muttered Ginny with her ear to the door, "coast is clear. George, off you go."
"No way," laughed George, picking up an apple from the side and tossing it into the air. "It's you or Potter. I've got too much to lose."
Glowering at her brother, Ginny closed the small gap between and gave him her her best impression of a caged lion. He tried to look unaffected by this and chucked the apple in the air again, only for Ginny to snatch it mid-throw and hurl it at his chest. "You made your own bed. I am not going back out there and Harry-" Ginny opened and closed her mouth several times before turning to her boyfriend. "Actually, why are you in here?"
"Well," coughed Harry, trying to think of the best way to phrase his predicament to make his cause seem the most worthy, "I'm... playing hide and seek with Teddy."
For what could have been hours, both of the Weasleys stared at Harry, their faces impassive, and his robes started feeling a bit too warm.
"You're playing hide and seek?"
"You, saviour of the wizarding world, are hiding from a small child?"
"Well, when you-" Harry began but George interrupted him with a solemn look and a hand on his shoulder.
"Your plight is far worthier a cause than my pitiful woes, Harry," he said seriously. "I couldn't live with myself if I thought I had cowered in here away from my randy Great Aunt who will slaughter me when she realises what has happened, while you had to face an adorable child all by yourself."
"He is part werewolf?" Harry tried weakly.
"George is right," nodded Ginny, having apparently not heard him. "It would be cruel to not allow you a place to hide when such horror awaits you out there."
"Look," Harry snapped when the other two burst into fits of giggles, "I haven't won a game yet and it is getting embarrassing."
"He's three!" laughed Ginny, clearly failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation.
"Yeah, and has the ability to change his hair colour!" Harry complained. "Do you know how hard it is to find a ginger at a Weasley get together? He hasn't even bothered to find a hiding place the past two goes!"
George scowled at him. "You saying we all look the same?"
"That's racist," nodded Ginny from her brother's side.
Harry gawped at them for a moment before laughing at their serious expressions. "That is in no way rac-"
"I know I let you use that line before," George cut in sternly, "that time I caught you eyeing up Ron-"
"-and you tried to say you thought he was Ginny and that's why you were drooling-"
"I think I can confirm Harry's sexuality, George," Ginny said. Although she was sticking up for him, she was still shaking with laughter. Harry decided to remember this for the next time her brothers were teasing her. Not that she ever needed help when that happened, Harry thought nervously.
George placed a sympathetic hand on his sister's shoulder and sighed. "You heard his speech. All that stuff about how he could always rely on Ron? How through all the hard times, Ron was there for him? How he was as good as family to him?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He had spent a long time writing his best man speech. As well as the customary jokes at both the bride and groom's expense (for which he had over a decade's worth of material for) he had added a part about how special his friends were to him. Heartfelt speeches were his idea of hell but he had done his best and the end result was something he was oddly proud of, if still a little unsure about. Of course, George made it sound a lot more emotional than it had been, though it had made Mrs Weasley tear up. Saying that, so had Ron losing his handkerchief so Harry wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.
While Harry worried for the twentieth time that day if his speech had been good enough, hurt founds its way onto Ginny's features. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Harry Potter," she whispered, her voice tight. "My own brother?"
"And not even the handsome one," George added with a shake of his head.
Ginny sniffed. "How could you?"
Sometimes Harry looked at the Weasleys and wondered what he had done to deserve the love and acceptance of the kindest family he had ever had the fortune to meet. Now, however, looking at his friend and girlfriend's faces, one devastated, one disappointed and both a second away from cracking up, he wondered what the hell he had done deserve the incessant teasing from the two gits in front of him.
"That is not even remotely-"
But once again Harry was cut off by the door flying open, leaving him wondering if maybe he didn't talk, then no one else would barge in. This time though Harry was vaguely pleased to see the latest interruption actually helped prove a point he was trying to make.
Nobody dared move for a while as everybody in the Burrow kitchen froze in a state of shock. Wide eyes met stunned expressions as reality slowly set in. After all, Harry reasoned, it wasn't everyday that the best man, bridesmaid and her brother were caught hiding in a cupboard by the newly wedded couple, attached at the mouth and hastily undressing each other.
For a long time the only movement was Hermione slowly retracted her hands out of back of Ron's trousers and pulling her dress down enough so her garter was no longer visible.
Before Harry could do anything more useful than note how fitting it was that Ron was currently wearing the same expression he had been after his and Hermione's first kiss, Ginny shuffled forward, pinched her brother's sleeve and carefully removed his hand from his new wife's breast as though it were a rotten flobberworm. Ron blinked but otherwise didn't seem to notice.
"Sorry, Hermione,"Ginny said quietly. "I just feel more comfortable with his hand at his side."
"I quite understand," a pink-cheeked Hermione replied, barely moving her swollen lips.
Apparently all it took for Ron to snap out of his shocked trance had been Hermione's voice.
"What the bloody hell are you all doing in here?" he squeaked, though Harry would have bet that he had meant it to be more of a shout.
"Didn't you hear?" George grinned. "There's a wedding."
"Yeah," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "but - this is a cupboard."
"Cupboards store things. It's currently storing us," shrugged Ginny as if none of this was out of the ordinary.
"We won't ask what you two were going to use it for," Harry added in an undertone.
"No need," Ginny giggled, "not unless that really is Ron's wand in his pocket."
Finally springing apart, Hermione tried to make her hair neater as Ron pulled his robes closed, trying to hide any evidence of what they had just been doing. "Fucking hell," he muttered furiously. "Look, if you could all just leave then-"
"And let you two consummate this close to my breakfast?" scoffed Ginny. "No chance."
Hermione placed a placating hand on Ron's arm when he went to retaliate. "Ginny, it is our wedding," she pointed out as reasonably as someone could in her position. Harry had to admire how well she was handling this, despite her eyes showing how desperately she was fighting the urge to run away and never return.
"Yes and you look lovely," she said kindly before her face turned indignant again, "but you're not shagging in this cupboard!"
Harry expected to see Hermione looked ashamed when what had clearly been her intentions had been stated out loud. He would have put good money on her blush deepening and her stammering to try and deny what everyone gathered there today knew to be true. What he didn't expect, and was slightly unnerved by, was the sweet smile that was spreading across her face and the purely vindictive look in her eyes.
"Need I remind you, Ginny," she said calmly, "of all the dirt I have on you and this very cupboard?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes as memories of stolen kisses and nervous caresses washed over Harry. It hadn't been long since the end of the war, the house was packed and it had been hard for them to find some privacy so they had had to get creative. Had Ginny really told Hermione about-?
"Maybe we should go?" he blurted out to Ginny and George. George shot him a suspicious look while Ginny only had eyes for the blushing and now very smug looking bride.
"Wait - what happened with Ginny in the cupboard?" George asked the group at large, his face screwed up in thought.
The pair of them ignored him and continued their Mexican stand off, Ginny smirking, Hermione with one eyebrow raised, while the men stood idly by, completely unsure of what to do.
"Hermione Granger," Ginny murmured, eyes locked with the other woman, "I never would have thought you would sink so low."
"Hermione Weasley," Ron corrected automatically, his whole face being taken over by a stupid grin. "The whole point of this day is to change her name. Keep up, Ginny."
At the mention of her new name Hermione met Ron's eyes and the two of them shared a look that Mrs Weasley would have described as loving. Harry, however, preferred the adjective 'sickening.' Ginny went as far as to retch when her brother planted a soft kiss on her new sister in law's lips.
"But seriously," George said forcefully, "Ginny and this cupboard? What-"
George stopped talking and glanced out of the kitchen window. Harry followed his gaze but before he could discern what had spooked George, he and Ginny had grabbed Ron and Hermione and yanked them unceremoniously into the cupboard and slammed the door shut.
Needless to say Molly Weasley's kitchen cupboard was not built to store five adults, especially ones wearing bulky wedding attire and, judging by the grunts and squeals of pain, he wasn't the only one who was uncomfortable. In fact, he had someone's elbow in his stomach and Ron's shoulder pushing his glasses askew.
"We don't all fit," worried Hermione from somewhere to Harry's left.
"Ginny," hissed Ron, "get on the shelf!"
The youngest Weasley snorted."What? I am not getting on the shelf."
"You're the smallest," argued George.
Through the small gap between limbs, Harry could see part of his girlfriend's face glaring at one of her brothers and felt infinitely glad that he was not on the receiving end of it.
"There is no way am I-"
Ginny's sentence was cut short by Ron and George simultaneously lifting her and pushing her onto the middle shelf, jars and boxes falling to the floor. Thankfully they had all been protected by Unbreakable Charms or, Harry thought, they would all have to explain why they were covered in jam.
Though he was loathe to admit it and knew better than to ever do so to Ginny, having her curled up on her side on the shelf meant the rest of them could stand pressed together without hurting one another. The downside to this was having Ginny shooting them death stares, but Harry could live with that if it meant having his ribs intact.
Still feeling guilty, Harry turned to apologise, hoping she wouldn't blame him later, only to find himself with a faceful of veil.
"Hermione," he complained, awkwardly trying to flatten it, "this dress is everywhere."
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting to be hiding in a cupboard today," she hissed at him.
"At least not wearing the dress," commented Ron, waggling his eyebrows.
Hermione shot him a sardonic look. "If you honestly think that is still happening, you are deluded."
Looking as though he had just been informed that Father Christmas was a lie, the Cannons had been permanently disqualified from the Quidditch league and Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle was, in fact, only moderately nutty all along, Ron opened and closed his mouth several times before letting his head fall against the wall behind him.
"This - THIS - is why I hate this family," he mumbled, somehow managing to scowl and pout at the same time. "You have somehow managed to stop me getting laid on my wedding day."
"Still the rest of the night, Ronnie," George grinned, pinching his little brother's cheek. Ron swiped his his hand away, although the thought eased his dejected look. Well, until it was replaced by one of pain when Ginny kicked him in the back of the head.
"Not if I have anything to do with it," she growled, apparently still not happy with being amongst the jams and spreads.
As Ron was about the retort, Harry heard the voices outside the kitchen door and poked him in the ribs. Whatever had frightened George was only feet away from them.
Trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible, Harry strained to hear who was talking but could only make out whispers. He found himself almost hoping it was Teddy. At least he wouldn't really question why half of the wedding party, including the bride and groom, were hiding in the kitchen cupboard.
His hopes were shot down as soon as the door opened and the sounds of two adults giggling and shushing each other. Unable to make out the individual voices, Harry looked over to Ginny to see if she had and saw her mouth was a perfect circle and her skin was getting paler by the second.
"Couldn't if I wanted to. You look stunning."
Harry felt his jaw drop of its own volition as he heard George gulp from somewhere behind him. It was Mr and Mrs Weasley and, by the sounds of things, they had had a little too much champagne and were feeling especially affectionate.
"We're supposed to be at our son's wedding," Harry heard Mrs Weasley admonish although he could tell from here that her heart wasn't really in it.
"Well, with one leaving the nest we should probably make another one so-"
There was the sound of a light slap. Harry could picture Mr Weasley's apologetic expression perfectly.
Next to Harry, Ron nudged him and shrugged as if to ask him what they were meant to do. All Harry could do was shake his head. None of them could leave without drawing attention to themselves and then having a lot of awkward questions asked of them, but staying and listening was going to painful enough for him and Hermione - Merlin knew what the Weasley siblings were going through. Harry swallowed and wished he had his wand on him. Normally he carried it everywhere but with security at the wedding so tight and the atmosphere so relaxed he and most of the others had left their wands on the top table. He supposed he should have been happy that the old paranoia left over from the war was fading, but it was hard to focus on that silver lining while hearing his best friend's parents when they thought they were alone.
"You do look rather handsome in those robes," Mrs Weasley said in a voice that caused Ron to whimper.
Harry closed his eyes in hopes that it would help but if anything it make the kissing noises louder. He wondered if this would qualify him for a Obliviation from the ministry.
"Love you, too."
"I can't do this," hissed Ginny as she scrambled to get off the shelf but George held her in place.
"You really want to go out there?" he breathed. "You want to explain all of this to Mum?"
Ginny bit her lip and glanced towards the door. No matter what excuse they used, be it the truth or a brilliant lie that Harry could not begin to fathom, Molly Weasley, embarrassed at being caught in a compromising position by her children messing about at a wedding she was hosting, would hit the roof. Even as legal adults, none of them wanted that.
"Molly Wobbles?" Mr Weasley said softly and Harry felt George and Ron shiver.
"Do you think anyone will be coming into the kitchen for a while?"
"What?" she chuckled. "With all the food we've got out there?"
Mr Weasley's next sentence was hidden under more giggling. Just as Harry thought it couldn't get any worse he heard something that he knew that even when he was old, grey and senile, would still haunt him - a moan.
Harry felt the three bodies next to him tense before George let out a choked, "I'm done" and dived for the door handle. His sudden movement caught Harry unawares. As the door swung open he and Ron both managed to stumble out as well. They would have kept their exit at least a little dignified if it hadn't have been for Hermione falling into them and then Ginny completing the farce by having her attempt to save Hermione turn into her sending them all crashing to the floor.
From his position somewhere underneath Hermione and what felt like George's legs, Harry heard Mrs Weasley's shriek of terror and cursed fate for not knocking him out as he fell. In fact, he had never wanted to be unconscious more in his life. Perhaps he could pretend? His genius plan was scuppered when Hermione pulled him to his feet as she rose, her eyes trained on the floor and her cheeks a deep pink. Harry, however, looked across the kitchen and found Mr and Mrs Weasley staring at their children clambering to their feet, their faces the dictionary definitions of shock.
"I wish I could say I could explain everything but this is beyond even me," George joked while everyone else struggled to find their bearings. It was no surprise to Harry that he was the first to recover. George had likely found himself in this kind of position multiple times before.
"I'm almost scared to ask," Mr Weasley said slowly, his face as pale as his ears were red, "but what on Earth-"
"HARRY! HARRY! I FOUND YOU! I FOUND YOU!"
Against all odds, Harry looked down and saw a tiny blue haired someone sprinting into the kitchen was to be his saviour. Willing his limbs to move, he bent down and picked a beaming Teddy up and smiled as best he could while still nauseous.
"Hide and seek!" he exclaimed and he felt four people behind him all but collapse with relief. "We were all playing hide and seek, weren't we, Teddy?"
Teddy frowned as he looked around the nervous adults around him. "No, I was only playing with-"
"Anyway," Hermione squeaked, "we should be getting back to the party. It is our wedding after all." And with a strained smile, Hermione gripped Ron's hand and dragged him from the kitchen, her newly acquired in-laws still in too much shock to stop them.
As they reached the door Harry was convinced they had got away with it, and they would have done if it wasn't for the meddling kid.
"Uncle Ron?" Teddy piped up, despite being told repeatedly that his Uncle Ron was not actually his uncle. "Why do you have lady's pants in your pocket?"
Seven pairs of eyes went straight to the pocket of Ron's robes and, sure enough, found a scrap of lace hanging out of it.
Harry hadn't seen Ron look this scared since a giant spider had announced that he was to be the main course. Their eyes met in what could only be described as a silent goodbye before Ron spoke.
"I was... cleaning windows?"
Harry turned to Mrs Weasley, hoping against hope that she hadn't been able to make out Ron's pitiful explanation out of the choked squeak that had been his voice.
"That seems plausible," she replied in a tone that clearly showed that she had.
As his mother's face slowly began to swell with rage, George cleared his throat and hurried towards the door. "Well, that is my cue to-"
George never got to execute his hasty escape as the kitchen burst open to reveal Aunt Muriel, minus her teeth and wearing a sombrero for reasons that Harry would never understand.
"Georgie!" she cried staggering into the room, arms aloft. "You still owe me a kiss, sonny Jim! You can't keep me waiting too long. After all, I am a hundred and-"
And, without further ado, she collapsed into Mr Weasley's waiting arms and began snoring.
Slowly, everyone looked from Aunt Muriel to Mrs Weasley, waiting to see which one of them she would shout at first. However, the sight of her elderly aunt incapacitated had apparently rendered her speechless and she could only gawp at them with an expression that reminded Harry of Dudley in maths lessons.
With timing and cunning that could only come from months of being the most wanted man in Britain, Harry summoned all of his Gryffindor courage and came up with the only plan that might save them all.
And before Mrs Weasley could question what had just transpired in her kitchen, Harry with Teddy held securely in his arms and the Weasleys were through the back door, laughing into the night.
Thanks for reading!