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Childhood Dreams by ShadowRose
Chapter 1 : 13 Years
 
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 13


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Chapter image by decoded. @ TDA




 

A/N: This just in, I don’t own Harry Potter. I know you’re all so surprised.

 






 

 

August 1988

 

I donned my white summer dress, with thick straps and a flowy skirt. It had been worn so much that the hem was coming undone, and there was dirt at the bottom. But it didn’t matter. Not to me, anyway.

My long, bright red hair was pulled up into a ponytail-bun thing that my seven-year-old self thought was a very stylish updo, but it reality looked extremely ridiculous. In my hands I held a bouquet of flowers picked from mum’s garden. They were mostly weeds, because I wasn’t allowed to pick any of mum’s good flowers.

I was in my room, playing by myself. Having six brothers was really a disadvantage at times, because nobody wanted to play pretend with me.

I began to sing a wedding march. Duh, duh, duh-duh. Duh, duh, duh-duh.

I walked at gracefully as I could, in a straight line across my room. I had a huge smile plastered on my face as I acknowledged my many imaginary guests.

I looked straight ahead of me, to the altar. There, waiting for me, was a very handsome man. But this wasn’t just any man. He had black hair that matched his tuxedo and perfectly framed the lightening-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He, Harry Potter, looked at me with adoration.

As I got to the end of the aisle, I stopped, assuming the role of minister, bride, and groom.

“Harry James Potter, do you take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I spoke, in the deepest voice my childish soprano could muster.

“I do,” I replied to myself, trying to make my voice go even lower. Harry would be a big, tough man, with a deep, masculine voice to match.

“And Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you take Harry James Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?” I was the minister again.

“I do,” I squealed, my voice finally assuming its normal pitch.

“Then you may kiss the bride.”

Seeing as I had no one to kiss, I blew an air kiss, aiming it out the window. “This is for you, Harry,” I murmured, as romantically as my seven-year-old self could. I wonder if, somewhere, he could feel it.

I then threw my bouquet in the air, letting the flowers land all around me as I twirled wildly. I had played this scene so many times before, but it never got old. It was my favorite game. It was going to be real. One day.

“GINNY!” Mum’s voice rung through the house. “SUPPER’S READY!”

“COMING, MUM!” I hollered back, quickly trading my dress for a pair of denim shorts and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt. My brothers liked to tease me mercilessly whenever I played this game. Oh well. They’d get it when I actually married him.

I hurried down the stairs to join my family at the dinner table. Only my seat and two others were left empty. I slid into my chair, knowing that at least I wasn’t the last one to the table.

“FRED AND GEORGE, YOU TWO GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!” Mum bellowed up the stairs.

“OI! WE’RE ON OUR WAY, MUM!” The twins replied in unison. Merlin, they were so alike it wasn’t even funny. Except I guess it was, because they were the funniest two kids I’d ever met.

Moments later, the two came bounding down the stairs.

“When I call you down to dinner, you come immediately,” Mum snapped. Being the last to the table always earned you a scolding. It was a well-known law of the Weasley family.

“We were busy organizing our trunks, mum,” George replied. We all knew that was a lie. The twins didn’t organize anything. That explained why their room constantly smelled like one too many Dungbombs had gone off in there.

The twins were going to start Hogwarts this year, and they were milking it for all it was worth. I was so jealous; I still had four years until I could go. And now, I was stuck at home for the whole year with just Ron.

Not that I don’t love Ron and all, but he acts like he’s so much older and better than me. It’s a one-year age difference, not twelve!
 
“If you hid Bill’s Head Boy badge again, I won’t be very happy with you two,” Mum shot back. They had already hidden it twice already, and my normally calm oldest brother was not too happy when the golden badge went missing all the time.

“Sheesh, mum, you think we’ll pull the same trick three times?” Fred said proudly. “We’re not amateurs!”

“Well you certainly won’t be professionals, Fred Weasley!” she snapped.

“I’m not Fred, I’m George!” Fred replied indignantly. Jeez, for someone who says he doesn’t repeat tricks, they sure pull this one a lot.

“Alright then, George,” Mum said, reaching to grab a pot, and proceeding to spoon stew onto each of our plates.

“I’m just joking, mum, I am Fred,” Fred admitted jovially. Oh wow, we would have never guessed.

“Alright then, dear,” she said distractedly, as she scooped food onto Dad’s plate. “Arthur, how was work today?”

“Good, good,” Dad’s eyes lit up as he spoke, as they always did when he started talking about Muggle things. “Did you know that some wizards have enchanted cars so that they fly? The paperwork was horrible, but that just sounds so… fascinating!”

“Don’t you get any ideas, Arthur Weasley.” Mum narrowed her eyes at Dad.

“Alright, alright,” he resigned, but I could tell by the glint in his eye that he hadn’t given the idea up.

“Are we going to Diagon Alley this week, Mum?” Percy asked. He was obsessed with school, and I knew he probably wanted to get his books as soon as he could so that he could start reading ahead. “I need to talk with the people at Magical Menagerie, because Scabbers is getting pretty old.”

That rat was disgusting, but it didn’t age. Sometimes I wondered if he was really a rat after all. He was missing a toe, after all. What rat loses a toe?

The discussion continued happily through dinner, even as we all helped clean the dishes. Bill was the only one of us that was of age, so the rest of us had to clean by hand.

I can’t wait for the day I can actually do magic.

After we cleaned the dishes, we went outside. Our house was in the middle of nowhere, so we could get away with the occasional Quidditch game. And by “we,” I mean my brothers. Nobody ever wanted to include me in a game, so I could only fly when they were all off doing other things. I was quite good, actually, but none of my brothers thought of me as a Quidditch player. I was the girl of the family, after all.

As the sun set down past the horizon, Mum sent Ron and me up to bed. Being the youngest was really kind of annoying at times.

I changed into my pajamas, a light blue shirt and matching shorts that had lightening bolts all over them. Mum and Dad got them for me for Christmas last year. They didn’t see the meaning behind them, but I did.

I brushed my teeth, and went back to my bedroom, burrowing underneath the thick quilt and holding my teddy bear, Seeker, close to me. The light from the sun was still streaming through my window, giving the room a faint light.

“Goodnight, Ginny.” I didn’t know when, but Mum had come into my room at some point, and was tucking me under the covers. “Sleep tight, honey.”

With that, she stood from my bed, probably to go tuck Ron in as well.

“Mum?” I called out to her before she left the room.

“Yes, sweetie?” She turned back to me.

“I’m going to marry Harry Potter,” I told her simply. And with that, I fell asleep, dreaming of a gorgeous raven-haired boy that I told myself I would one day marry.

 

 










August 2001

 

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. It had been curled only minutes ago, and it was falling in my face as the stylist attended to Hermione’s hair, which was in the process of being smoothed out using generous amounts of Sleekeazy’s. She’d come back to my hair once the most pressing issue had been taken care of.

I had told Harry that I was perfectly fine with a simple wedding, and it didn’t need to be so expensive, but he told me that he wanted me to have my dream wedding. I didn’t tell him that just by marrying him, it was my dream wedding.

So here we were, under a tent with a professional stylist and a vanity filled with more beauty products than Fleur’s bathroom sink.

Yes, I have taken to calling her Fleur instead of Phlegm. As much as I still don’t like her, she did do a lot to help Harry, and Bill seems to genuinely love her. Plus, her daughter Victoire is just about the sweetest child I’ve ever met. Besides Teddy, of course.

The stylist walked back over to me, pulling my hair up into an elaborate updo that left a few tendrils hanging around my face. She then turned to my makeup, which was very dewy and natural, just the way I wanted it.

“T-minus one hour!” A petite brunette called into the tent. Naturally, Percy’s girlfriend, Audrey, would be trying to play wedding organizer. She was almost as stuffy as he was.

“Well then!” The stylist said happily, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get you into that dress, shall we?”

Fifteen minutes and some very exhausting bodice-tying later, I was standing in front of the mirror, wearing my wedding dress. It wasn’t extravagant, just a white dress that was fitted until it reached my hips, where it flowed to the ground, as the train pooled around me. I slid the veil into my hair, admiring my reflection.

Normally this would be the moment where the bride bursts into tears and gets all weepy and sentimental. But I was Ginny Weasley. I was stronger than that. So instead I stood wordlessly in front of the mirror, admiring the unfamiliar beauty that was apparently me.

“Oh my word, Ginny!” A voice called from behind me. I wasn’t surprised to see Hermione when I turned around, dressed in a pale green bridesmaid dress. What did surprise me, however, was her hair, which was smoothed out completely and spun in loose ringlets down her back, a total contrast to the frizzy mess it was normally.

“You look stunning!” She gushed, crossing the room and giving me a hug. See, this is what the Maid of Honor is for.

“Thanks,” I replied, unable to contain the huge smile that was making its way across my face. “You’ll be turning heads too,” I added, still admiring her gorgeous hair.

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Your brother’s. And that’s only because he’s related to you and he’s marrying me.”

“I’m not the one who dated a certain Quidditch star by the name of Viktor Krum,” I teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Teasing your Maid of Honor is not the best idea, now is it?”

I chose not to reply, partly because I knew she was right. After all, Hermione had basically planned this entire wedding for me, because Merlin knows I’m not organized enough to do something like that all on my own. 

I snuck a peek at the clock. Ten minutes to go. We travelled from the tent where we had been getting ready, to another tent, which housed the rest of the wedding procession. Minus, of course, the groom.

Ron’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he saw Hermione, and I couldn’t help but giggle. My brother was hopelessly head over heels for my Maid of Honor. It still struck me as odd that it took until the Battle of Hogwarts for him to realize that he was in love with her. But I guess that’s my brother for you – thick as a brick.

“Oh, Ginny, you look amazing!” I heard someone call, before hearing a few other girlish squeals of agreement. I looked over to see Angelina, George’s wife, smiling at me. Her bridesmaid dress was a tad tight, particularly around the middle. We hadn’t exactly planned for her to be five months pregnant at this wedding, and even an Engorgement Charm wouldn’t alter the material the way it needed to be, so we had to use a bit of Muggle ingenuity and a lot of heavy-duty zipping.

“Thanks,” I replied for the second time in the past few minutes. My cheeks were starting to hurt from the smile that was permanently plastered to me face, but I just couldn’t help it.

Suddenly, the music struck up, and my heart skipped a beat. Oh Merlin, I was really doing this.

“You look amazing, darling,” a voice from behind me spoke.

“Daddy!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck. I may be a 20-year-old woman, but I could act like a child when I wanted to.

After all, this was my dad we were talking about. He was a little quirky, but he was extremely brave and loyal, and the best dad I could have ever had.

Before I knew it, we were walking down the aisle. I knew there were countless guests, and most likely some media too, but they couldn’t capture my attention if they were all dancing on flying hippogriffs.

I was focused on one thing, and one thing only. Harry, who was standing at the altar, looking ridiculously handsome in his robes. His face broke out into a massive smile, and we looked like two idiots in love as we both smiled goofily at each other. But then again, I guess maybe we are.

The ceremony passed in a blur, as I spent a good portion of the ceremony staring up into Harry’s bright green eyes. I actually had to be nudged at one point in order to respond to the minister.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Oh goody, this was the part I had been looking forward to. Harry instantly closed the gap between us, cradling my cheek in one hand and wrapping an arm around my waist, placing his lips on mine. The kiss conveyed so many emotions, both gentle and fierce. I had to remind myself that we were in a very public place, so I pulled back, staring into the handsome face of my husband.

Merlin, that’s a fun word to say.

“Witches and wizards, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Harry James Potter.”

The area was filled with applause, as the guests stood up and filed out to head to the reception.

In a moment, I saw my mother right in front of me. “I can’t believe my baby’s all grown up,” she cooed, holding onto both of my shoulders.

“I love you, Mum.” I told her, and I was instantly pulled into a hug. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

“Mum?” I spoke, still in her hug.

“Yes, sweetie?” She pulled back to look at my face.

“I’m married to Harry Potter.” After all these years, I was finally living out the childhood game I used to play.

 

 






 

A/N: There’s your fluff fix, for like, ever. Anyways, please review, I seriously love hearing your thoughts!




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