I’m sitting on the bed doing the Daily Prophet’s crossword puzzle. I find that the weekday ones are easier than the Sunday ones, even though on Sunday the answers are on the other side of the page.
The rain won’t stop pouring outside. It’s been like that for the past two weeks. Mum is getting anxious because she doesn’t know how she is to plan a wedding with all this rain. I wouldn’t mind a small wedding in the rain, but small and rain aren’t in Mum’s wedding vocabulary.
I smile at my engagement ring. It’s absolutely perfect. Not to flashy, not to simple. I try to think of what kind of wedding I would like. I have thought about it, but not everything down to what kind of napkins I want…I just would like something quiet.
I hear the door open and a minute later Harry comes in to the room, completely drenched. The Daily prophet over his head looks less soaked than he is. “Hi, gorgeous,” he says, kissing me hello. “How was Quidditch practice?”
He knows that Gwenog gets more evil when it’s raining. “Awful. We didn’t get out until an hour ago. So don’t make fun if I have the flu tomorrow.” I say, throwing his coat over the shower. “How about you? Did you stay in the warm indoors?”
Harry smiles and gives me an apologetic look. “Would you resent me if I said yes?”
“No, I could never resent you. But I won’t deny that I’ll be incredibly jealous,” I say, passing him a towel. “Now dry off before we’re both sick.”
Harry grins and walks into the bathroom. I sit down back on the bed and try to finish the crossword, making sure that I got all the right answers by trying to read the wet one.
Harry pokes his head out, his hair looks ten times messier when it’s half dry. “You could never resent me?” he asks, looking a bit doubtful as he walks over and sits down.
“Of course I couldn’t. Why? Do you want me too?” I tease, giving him a smile. Harry looks at his socks, and I nudge him. “Are you ok? You look like you swallowed a bar of soap.”
“I’m not perfect, you know?” he says, still looking at his socks.
I raise my eyebrows and move closer to him. “And here I thought you could fly,” I remark, shaking my head.
“I mean, I’ve got quirks,” says Harry, shrugging a bit.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, giving him a weird look. “Is it because you think I might back out?”
Harry shrugs and I roll my eyes.
“Alright. How about you tell me some of the quirks that you think might bother me, and I’ll tell you if I still love you or not, okay?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“I leave the water running when I brush my teeth. I don’t mean to be wasteful. I just do,” says Harry, looking for my facial expression.
“I can live with that,” I say, trying to keep a serious face. “What else?”
“I leave the garbage in the can for a long time. I hate taking it out,” says Harry. “And that’s one thing that I know will probably drive you nuts.”
I shake my head. “I already knew that. At first it irked me, but then I just got used to it.”
“I leave all my stuff out in the bathroom,” says Harry, shrugging. “And if I do put it away it’s the first cupboard I open.”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, leaving poor Harry looking utterly confused. “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to regain control. “It’s just so stupid!”
Harry gives me a weird look, and I give one back. “I mean, for god sakes, Harry. Do you think I don’t already know that? And even if I didn’t, would I leave for it? No, I wouldn’t and hopefully you wouldn’t leave me for my quirks.”
“You can’t have quirks. You’re too perfect,” says Harry, kissing my cheek.
I roll my eyes. “Of course I have quirks, little things that bother everyone, and since you told me yours, I tell you mine.”
Harry leans back, looking interested. “You won’t be able to come up with anything,” he says, and I nudge him playfully.
“Sure I will. For instance I always leave the cap of the toothpaste off. I don’t know why I do. It’s just a habit that I haven’t been able to break out of.”
Harry shrugs. “So, what’s wrong with that?”
“Some people might find that annoying,” I say, pausing to think of another one. “I never fold jeans or pants. I fold tights, tops, skirts, shirts, and whatever else. For some reason I just toss pants or jeans around or in a drawer.”
“Is that why they’re wrinkly?” asks Harry, looking slightly surprised.
“See?” I cry, using my hands point at Harry. “That’s something that bothers you!”
“Not really,” says Harry, shrugging. “I was just wondering.”
“Come on. There’s got to be one thing about me that’s hard to live with,” I say, giving Harry a look. “Just one little thing.”
“Not even one little thing,” whispers Harry, burying his face in my hair. “I think you’re absolutely perfect.”
“You’re sweet,” I reply, kissing him. “It’s just not true.”
“Sure it is. Even you haven’t been able to mention one thing that bothers me about you,” says Harry, and I can see a tiny smirk creep up on his face.
“I’m not finished,” I say, trying to think of something else. “Oh, remember those little pink and white cookies that I like to have at least once a month and I get kind of cranky when they’re not around?”
“Sure I do,” says Harry. “Your point?”
“Doesn’t it bother you when I get cranky over cookies?” I ask, hoping it does.
“No. In fact, I find it cute. You get this pout on your face and I find it funny,” says Harry, now looking very smug.
“How about the fact that I have a terrible taste for ties? I mean, look at that one I bought you,” I say, pointing to a green and white tie that’s lying on the dresser. “It’s a really ugly tie and you wear it every single day. I almost feel bad I bought it for you.”
“That tie?” asks Harry, pointing to the one on the dresser. “I love that tie.”
“Why? Honestly, I feel like I should buy you a new one,” I reply, looking at it in distaste.
“Gin,” says Harry, giving me a sincre look. “You’re right. It’s a damn ugly tie, but I love it because you gave it to me.”
“So there isn’t one quirk you hate about me?” I ask, moving my foot against his.
“Oh, there is one,” says Harry, pausing for a moment. “It drives me nuts, and I don’t understand it.”
“What is it?” I ask excitedly.
Harry raises his eyebrows. “You’re always so perfect,” he says, the smirk in place.
I nudge him playfully, biting my lip to hide my smile. “That’s not really a quirk. That’s just something you say.”
“I mean it though,” says Harry, kissing me. “I got the most perfect girl, and I’m going to get married to her.”
“Well, I’m getting married to the most perfect guy, and I love him, and all his little quirks with every inch of me,” I reply, kissing him back.
So of course, quirks and all, Harry and Ginny were still in love.