Three days later, Harry and Ginny were summoned to a small, informal gathering (by an invitation written in surprisingly formal language, considering the source). They were met by George and Angelina Weasley, who asked them both in and directed them to the living room. Harry noticed the smirk crossing Angie's face and the black fishnet body-stocking peeking out from under George's shirt, and, when they arrived in the living room, found Katie and Fred in much the same positions.
"The boys have something to say to you," Katie said after everyone had taken their seats. "Don't you, Fred? George?"
"Of course we do, my lovely wife." Katie gave him a sceptical look. "We have it all planned out. I'll go first, and then my illustrious twin will go after. Right, George?"
"Right you are, brother-mine."
Fred stood and turned to Harry and Ginny, straightening his back, he waved his one hand in small circles in front of himself and bowed, while putting on a haughty air. "He looks like Percy," Harry whispered to Ginny.
She cocked her head and looked at her brother. "Almost," she said slowly. "He doesn't have quite the attitude of superiority Percy has. And he's not serious enough." Fred straightened up, cleared his throat and adjusted his facial express into something he must have thought fit the occasion, and Harry and Ginny directed their attention towards him.
"I am sorry I charmed your underthings," Fred said pompously. "I am an idiot who is really not very funny or creative at all. I should be nicer to my sister, the fair Ginevra, because she is superior to me in every way. Furthermore, I should never be allowed to breed or take any actions which might result in accidental breeding."
Harry snorted at the apology, such as it was, and Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. He shrugged his shoulders at her and quirked his own eyebrow. He couldn't help it; the twins made him laugh.
"Well done, Fred," Katie said. "That gets you the right to move off the sofa and into the guest bedroom."
Fred beamed at his wife. "Oh thank you, my wonderful, illustrious wife. I hope that my sister dear will be as just as you have been." He made to grab Katie's hand to kiss it, but she pulled it away.
Next, George stepped forward. "I, too, would like to beg your forgiveness, oh great and powerful Weas—erm—Potters. We were unthinking and uncaring, and we never intended to ruin your wedding night, just to make it a bit more…memorable."
"Hmph," Ginny said. "It was memorable, all right." She turned to Harry. "I don't know, Harry. What do you think?"
"They seem sincere," he mused out loud. "Well, sincere for the twins, anyway." He looked at Katie and Angelina, asking them silently what they thought. When they nodded, he shrugged and said, "I'm okay with it."
"Oh, thank you, wise and powerful slayer of Dark Lords," George said, dropping to his knees and prostrating himself on the floor at their feet.
"You are indeed kind and merciful," Fred said, falling to his knees like his brother.
Harry shook his head at their antics. "Yes, well. Unfortunately for you, I don't have the final say in this matter. You'll need to appeal to your sister's good nature."
The twins looked at each other and then as one, flung themselves at Ginny's feet, kissing the hem of her robes.
"Fair Ginevra, strongest and most beautiful of all the Weasleys, forgive us, we beseech you."
"We are not worthy so much as to lick the dirt from your shoes."
Ginny looked down at her brothers, her expression becoming more amused as their outlandish descriptions of her continued. Katie and Angelina were shaking their heads in exasperation as they watched their husbands make fools out of themselves, and Harry himself was finding it hard not to burst out laughing.
"Oh, get up, you two," Ginny said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Harry smirked as he watched her interact with her brothers. "I'll forgive you—" the twins looked excited— "but I have a couple of conditions that must be met."
"Anything, your graciousness," Fred said bowing at the waist.
"Right. First of all, the grovelling has to stop."
"Done!" they said immediately, standing up and dusting themselves off.
"And..." Ginny started.
"There's more?" Fred protested.
"Oh, you'll like this one," Ginny promised. "What do you know about the Dursleys?"
"I thought you said the Cannons were playing today, Harry," Ron said, looking around. His was the only orange shirt visible in the midst of the royal blue of Puddlemere (which Harry, who felt some loyalty towards Oliver Wood, was wearing) and the grey of the Falmouth Falcons.
Harry made a show of checking the program, feigning surprise when he read the match schedule for Puddlemere United. "Oh. Sorry, mate. The Cannons play next week," he apologised, smirking. "I must've got the dates wrong."
"Bloody hell. Aren't you ever going to forgive me for that? It's been three months. Bad enough that you had to go and tell Hermione that I bollixed it up."
"You'd better be glad that I didn't let Ginny do what she wanted to do to you. She's evil," Harry said, no small amount of pride in his voice when he talked about his wife. "You remember what happened to the twins, don't you? That was all Ginny—Bill and I just helped with the execution."
Ron blanched as he thought about what the two of them had done to Fred and George. "All right, you've got a point. But Harry...the Falcons? They're almost as bad as the Tornadoes."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're at a professional Quidditch match with your best mate. I wouldn't complain too much if I were you." He turned his gaze to the pitch, watching Oliver warm up. "Wood looks good," he said.
Ron grunted noncommittally and leaned back in his seat. "Still wish it were the Cannons playing instead of the Falcons."
"I'll just talk to Hermione, then," Harry said. "Ask her what her favourite colours are, and whether she prefers feathers or lace. I know Ginny still remembers the spells we'd need, and I'm sure we've still got some of the potions left."
Ron blanched again. "No, no, that's okay. You're right. I should be grateful that I get to see a professional match at all." He looked around at the Puddlemere fans surrounding them. "I can be a Puddlemere fan for the day. Wonder if I can spell my shirt blue, so I don't stick out." Ron paused and cocked his head, looking at Harry. "Say, Harry..." He trailed off uncertainly.
"Mmmm?" Harry said absently. He was focusing on the two Seekers warming up on the pitch.
Ron suddenly straightened in his seat. "You know, you wouldn't have been able to pull this off if I hadn't been on assignment last month. I would've known the Cannons had been forced to change their schedule. I know it like the back of my hand."
Harry smirked again, raising his Omnioculars to his eyes and watching the Puddlemere Seeker as she zipped between her teammates. He knew the instant Ron realised what had happened.
"You wanker! You're the reason I got sent on assignment in the first place, aren't you? Tonks didn't need me at all. I thought there was something off about that whole situation," he muttered to himself. "I bet I could've got mail while I was away, too."
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you England's top investigator," Harry joked.
"I'm not the one who made his best mate and his wife spend their wedding night on a single bed," Harry pointed out.
Ron slumped in his seat. "I know, I know. I said I was sorry. I don't know what else to say. I just don't know what I was thinking."
Harry grinned at him. "You're too easy, Ron. You were forgiven a long time ago."
"Hmph," Ron snorted. He looked around the stadium again. "Harry…"
Harry rolled his eyes. "What now, Ron?"
"See that witch down there? The one with the paper?"
Harry craned his neck and shifted in his seat until he could spot the woman in question. "The blonde?"
"Yeah," Ron said.
"What about her?"
"Take a good look at the photo on the front page. I think it's the Dursleys."
Harry looked at Ron in shock. "You're having me on."
"No, really. Look, she just put it down. I'm going to ask her if we can look at it." He stood up and crawled down the two rows, stopping in front of the woman. Harry watched Ron gesture and the woman look back at him before she handed Ron the paper.
"Got it," he said, dropping into his seat next to Harry. "She said it was a Muggle gossip rag, but she was happy to lend it to you. I think she fancies you, actually." Harry rolled his eyes as Ron snorted at Harry's reaction. Ron handed the folded paper to him, and he opened it up, snorting when he saw the photo—and the headline:
Witchcraft Is Real! Surrey Family Tells How They Fought Wizards...and Won!
Underneath the headline was a photograph of his aunt, uncle, and whale of a cousin. They'd been dyed blue with green spots and had a look of sheer terror on their faces.
"Your brothers are geniuses," Harry breathed, looking up at Ron with a huge grin on his face.
"They did this?"
"Oh yeah," Harry said, chuckling. "It was the last bit of payment for that prank they played on our honeymoon. They told us they wanted it to be perfect, so we let them take all the time they needed. I'm glad we did." Harry looked at the photo again and laughed harder. "I wonder what else the twins did to them." He couldn't quite believe the Dursleys would ever admit magic was real to anyone, let alone a gossip rag, without some "assistance". Fred and George must have…encouraged them somehow.
"That's brilliant," Ron said, laughing. "I'm certain the two gits enjoyed themselves immensely as they fulfilled the end of their punishment. So, tell me, did Ginny make them remain in the lingerie until they finished the deed?"
"Nah, she broke the spell as soon as they apologised."
"Lucky prats," Ron said, smacking his leg. "Hey, by the way, did you two ever hear back from the hotel about the luggage theft?"
"Didn't Hermione tell you? I'm certain Ginny said something to her," Harry said shaking his head. "We got a letter of apology and an offer for free lodging for a month from the hotel if we're ever in the area again. They also stated that they caught the culprit. It was one of their employees – remember Romilda Vane from Hogwarts?"
"That girl who put the love potion in those Chocolate Cauldrons I ate in sixth year?" Ron said, shuddering.
"Yeah, that's her," Harry said, nodding. "She's the one who took the luggage. Can you believe it?"
"That girl was mental at Hogwarts. Nice to see she's hasn't changed," Ron said, chuckling.
Harry laughed. "You have that right, mate," he said as he settled in his seat for the start of the match. He motioned a vendor over and paid for two butterbeers. Handing one to Ron, he clicked the bottles together, "To a great game," Harry said.
"To a great game," Ron agreed, smirking at Harry. "Even if it is Puddlemere and the Falcons."
They were sitting out on the back stoop, watching Ginny and Hermione wander around the garden. They'd invited Ron and Hermione over to celebrate—Harry and Ginny had just celebrated their first anniversary, and they'd spent their dinner laughing at the memory of the twins in their racy lingerie.
"Wedding's coming up soon, isn't it?" Harry asked Ron.
"Three months, one week, and two days," he replied.
"But you're not counting or anything, eh, mate?"
"Heh," Ron said nervously.
Harry turned to his best mate and looked him in the eye. "What's wrong?"
Harry nodded his head sceptically. "Right. And I'm Voldemort. Try again."
"Harry, I need a favour."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"Well, you and Ginny are so much more well-travelled than Hermione and me. And, well, we were wondering…"
Harry sighed and turned towards his best mate. "Just spit it out, Ron. The worst I'm going to do is say 'no.'"
"Could you…would you help us plan our honeymoon?"
Harry grinned. This was going to be fun.
Many thanks and hugs and kisses to Sherylyn, OhGinnyfan, and emmacmf (aka fics_by_fumph). I still owe y'all!