Short Note: There are a couple of these “*” thingies. They just mean there's a footnote or whatever at the bottom. Okay, off you go :-)

- - -

“You look lovely.” Hermione breathed.

Luna Lovegood was wearing her bridal dress for the twentieth time that night, and each time it seemed like she was even more a gorgeous than the last. It really was a beautiful dress, Hermione thought. It would make a terribly romantic wedding picture.

Hermione left the bride to bask in all her glory and stepped out to try to think of a place to store the flowers for the ceremony. They had come a day early and may the ghost of Merlin remove her tongue with ice tongs if she ever let anything bad happen to those gorgeous roses. She thought of the Burrow's pantry. It was dimly-lit and a little chilly.* Perfect. She'd apparate over with the roses as soon as she left the Lovegood's. Upon her return to Luna's room, she found the blond no longer looking at her reflection but gazing off dreamily out the window.

“Are you nervous at all about the big day tomorrow? Before Ginny had to go, she told me you were being really calm.” Insanely calm, Hermione added to herself. Ginny had even gone as far as trying to freak her out with Weasley family wedding stories, which usually left one in tears.

“Why should I be nervous? Our souls were always one. I love Ronald with all my heart. That's all that matters.” Luna said simply.

“That's wonderful.” Hermione said softly.

“Besides, we've got the Klamagi watching over us.”

Hermione's soft smile was promptly replaced by a blank stare. She blinked. “The what?”

“Klamagi. They were an ancient race of turtle people that lived a pacifist, kindly existence a millennium ago in eastern Asia. Their entire population was completely wiped out by primitive Mongol tribes because they were hunting their prized Snorkacks, but their souls remain on this plane to watch over those who are truly in love because love is what they lived for all those centuries ago.”

Turtle people…? The corners of Hermione's lips twitched a bit before she nodded and replied in a strangled voice. “Of course. They're watching over you. The Klamagi. That's absolutely right.”

Luna smiled absently at her reflection in the mirror, no doubt contemplating her turtle-people. “I hope Ron isn't getting too distressed.”

Hermione tried to hide the amusement on her face. If she knew her best friend, and she did, Ron Weasley had to be a raving wreck. Ron was probably curled in a fetal position in a dark, damp corner with Harry tugging on his sleeve trying to drag him out. She knew that the Big Day, tomorrow, was going to be the best day of Ron's life. However the man was a bit of a coward when it came to proclaiming love. It had taken him 7 years to just ask Hermione out. Unfortunately, their romance had crashed and burned. Most likely because they had waited like fools for too long and without the growth of a relationship, the childish indirect flirting was as far as they could ever go.

It was another 2 years of pining after Luna before Harry and Hermione finally locked Ron and the woman of his desire together in a broom closet. It was for his own good. Best friends couldn't let their other best friend make the same mistake twice, after all.

“I'm sure he's fine.” Hermione lied, for Luna's sake. “Harry's with him. I'll bet they're over there playing chess or something right now.”

- - -

“I'M A WRECK, HARRY!!” Ron screeched.

“Ron, sit down - “

“I'M NOT GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!”

“Ron, just relax - “

“What if I suck at being a husband?! What if I get fired!? What if I can't support Luna!? What if our kids end up being monsters - “

“I think she would like something like that.” Harry grinned. “She'd call them red-crowned shorgles or something.”

“What if something goes wrong at the wedding?” Ron rambled on, ignoring Harry. “What if Fred and George try something? What if I forget my lines!?”

“You're lines are `I do'.” Harry reminded him helpfully as he wrestled the redhead into the sofa. “Stop kicking me!”

“I'm going to forget. I know I will. I'll say the wrong name. I'll be up there, my mind racing, and suddenly Mum's angry face will pop up in my head yelling at me to not screw anything up and I'll end up saying her name. OH MERLIN, HARRY, I'M GOING TO SAY MY MUM'S NAME AT MY OWN WEDDING!!”

“You're being crazy!” Harry said, forcing Ron to stay in his couch so he wouldn't pace deep grooves into the Burrow's hardwood floor.

“I'll be up there all nervous and I'll say `I take thee, Mum, to be my lawfully wedded wife' and everyone will stare and the wedding will be ruined and Luna will think I'm some big stupid incestuous freak and Mum is going to skin me alive and - “

“RON!” Harry bellowed, his hands still on Ron's shoulders. “SHUT. THE HELL. UP.”

Ron fell silent, blinking rapidly.

“You are going to stop. You are going to sleep. And you are going to take this.” Harry produced a flask of putrid-looking potion.

“What the bloody hell is that?”

“Dreamless sleep potion.”

Ron scowled up at him. “Mum's slipped me lots of that before, and I know it definitely should not look like that.”

“Look like what?” Harry looked curiously at his flask of potion and swirled around its lumpy contents.

“Like it was vomited up by one of Luna's imaginary friends and left in the sun too long.” Ron squinted at it. “You're rubbish at potions, Harry.”

“Are you going to take it or not?” Harry demanded, annoyed.

“Not.” Ron backed away from the potion. “I don't want to end up looking like Luna's snorkacks or something.”

“Hey, you're marrying her tomorrow. Her snorkacks will be your snorkacks.”

Ron went rigid.

“Okay, up to bed.” Harry added quickly, pushing a stiff Ron up the stairs and into his room. It would be the first night in nearly a year he'd go to bed without Luna by his side. A groom couldn't see his bride until the wedding.

“Stupid, barmy traditions.” Ron grumbled. The only thing that could ever calm him down was Luna's touch, her presence by his side, her softly uttered words that rarely made sense but captivated Ron all the same.

Harry would have thought it was kind of cute, Ron not being able to sleep without Luna beside him.

“I won't be able to go to bed without her.” Ron whined. “Never!”

If only he wasn't so obnoxious about it.

“Well, I'm sure as hell not crawling in there with you, so get over it! It's ONE NIGHT!”

- - -

Harry and Hermione met at the Burrow, listening to Ron's snores on the floor above them. Luna was fast asleep at the house she shared with her father. The two of them had thought it best to spend the night with their own families before they were both united the next day.

Hermione had deposited the massive amount of roses into the Burrow's cellar and decided to stay with Harry until he left the Weasley's as well. Harry lived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place now, with Hermione's room on the floor above his. Ron had lived there as well, with Luna as a kind of semi-roommate, until he had gathered the courage to “pop the question”.

“How's Luna?” Harry asked as he poured Hermione a late-night cup of tea.

“She's doing well. Very well, actually. You'd think tomorrow she was just going to go grocery shopping.” Hermione shrugged. “But I can tell she's excited, in her own Luna-esque way. It's all so romantic. Besides the turtle-people thing.”

Harry snorted. “The turtle-people thing?”

“Yes, the Klamagi. Supposedly they are the spirits of ancient turtle people who watch over those who are in love.” Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Sounds kind of nice.”

“Harry. Turtle people.”

“Well, the watching over love part, I mean.”

“Yes, I suppose that's nice.” Hermione smiled slowly. “So how is Ron dealing?”

“He insulted my potion making skills, he wouldn't go to bed, and he's gone stark raving mad thinking he's marrying his mum or something, but other than that, he's fine.” Harry grinned. Hermione eyed the lumpy, brown and pink potion Harry set on the table.

“What is that?”

“Dreamless sleep potion!”

“Harry, it looks like something - “

“Something Luna's imaginary friends vomited up. I know!” Harry grumbled. “Ron was kind enough to point that out, thanks.”

Hermione laughed. “I don't know why, I can't for the life of me explain it and I never have been able to, but Ron and Luna really are perfect for each other.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I can't imagine anyone else who thinks every single damn thing Ron does is cute or funny.”

“And I can't think of anyone else who is so enamored with everything Luna says.” Hermione shivered. “I'll bet Ron would think even the turtle people thing was amazing.”

“Klamagi.” Harry corrected cheekily.

“Yes, those.” Hermione sighed with a broad smile on her face. “So, have you ever thought of your wedding?”

Harry was startled. “Um, my wedding? Ummm…”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Surely you've had to have thought something about getting married.”

Harry furrowed his brow. After his defeat of Voldemort three years ago, he had mainly been focusing on spending time with his friends, his family. In all honesty he never truly believed he'd live long enough to get married. Even if he did, he would never be able to shake off the flashing neon arrow over his head that screamed out to everyone “THE BOY WHO LIVED”. Well actually he had removed the arrow and hexed Fred and George a bit for making it, but with or without it the stigma would still be there. A woman who could look past all that and want to be with Harry, not THE BOY WHO LIVED, seemed far too out of reach.

“Maybe. Someday. I'm not ready yet, I don't think,” Harry said vaguely, not too keen on revealing his negative outlook on love. “How about you?”

Hermione reached over and straightened Harry's collar, as she had done countless times in the past. “Same. Some day. We're still rather young, anyway.”

“Yeah. I just need the right girl.” Harry said, reached up to flip the collar back up defiantly.

“And I need the right guy.” Hermione reached over again to flip it back down. Harry laughed.

They fell silent, merely enjoying each others company in the kitchen and chuckling softly at the suggestive noises Ron was making in his sleep.

- - -

BREEET! BREEEET! BREEEET!

Harry's eyes shot open and he jolted upright, tangled in his sheets. He dove for his alarm clock and slammed a hand down on the snooze button. Then he grunted and planted his face back into his pillow, asleep once again in less than three seconds.

BREEEET! BREEEEEEEEEEEET!

The alarm went off again, even louder than before. Harry hit the snooze button once more and started to drift off.

HARRY POTTER YOU GET YOUR LAZY ARSE OUT OF BED RIGHT THIS INSTANT, YOUR BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED TODAY!

Now Harry was awake. Hermione's voice filled his head and he fell out of bed in a messy heap of blankets and pillows. He grabbed for his alarm clock and tore the plug away from the wall.

PLEASE, DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK THAT WOULD WORK!? WHAT ARE YOU, A MUGGLE!? GET UP! GET UP NOW!!!

“Arggghhh!” Harry groaned, tossing the clock into the wall were it promptly levitated itself and hurtled into Harry's stomach.

“Hey, ow!”

THAT'S WHAT YOU GET! NOW CHANGE!

Harry growled and pulled his black tuxedo pants on. He didn't bother with anything else then, instead he trudged down into the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place where Hermione was humming to herself and making some coffee.

“Good morning!” she greeted brightly, ignoring Harry's disheveled “I want to kill you” look.

“You…!” Harry fumed.

“Did you like your new alarm clock?” Hermione asked slyly. “I made two last night for the both of you.”

“Two?” Harry demanded, taking a seat and pouring no less than a dozen sugars into his coffee. Secretly, he admired the spell work she put into the clock, but he did not want to encourage such behavior. “Who else did you give one of those to? It better not have been Ron. People in comas have trouble getting married.”

Crack!

Ginny appeared in the kitchen, her hair a bushy, tangled mess and dark circles under her eyes. She looked murderously at Hermione, who merely greeted her with a grand smile and twinkle of the eye.

“Good morning, Ginny!”

“I'm going to kill you…”

“Would you like some coffee?”

Ginny practically pounced on the cup Hermione offered. “I'll kill you after coffee.”

“Honestly, you'd think I'd get some gratitude for making sure the best man and maid of honor were awake.” Hermione huffed, taking a seat across from the two. “Oh, Harry, don't drink so fast! It's very - “

“Ahhh!” Harry cried, fanning his mouth and trying to air out his tongue.

“ - hot.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow and quickly pushed away her source of caffeine and happiness. “I'll pass on the coffee.”

Crack!

Remus Lupin appeared, dressed in his best robes. Ron and Luna had chosen their old friend as the one who would marry them. They had both agreed that whoever married them had to be someone close to them, who understood their love and had seen it grow through the years. As the minister, his job in the wedding was the most important, aside from Ron and Luna's. Naturally, he had his graying hair brushed and styled neatly and his robes were brand new, thanks to Hermione's mishap with his dress old robes. Her sewing skills hadn't much improved since their time at Hogwarts.

“Good morning! Oh, coffee! I hope you don't mind…” Lupin swept up a cup thirstily, the others' warnings coming too slow, and downed its contents wolfishly.

“R-Remus?” Hermione asked weakly. Lupin's eyes grew wide.

“Are you okay?” Harry took the empty cup from his old professor's hand. “Did you, er, burn…”

“Ah…Ahm qui'e awigh'.” Lupin said gingerly with his no-doubt burnt tongue. “Wa' a bi' wahm fo' mah lahking…bu' ahm defneh-ly awake now.” **

“S-sorry…”

“Well, `en, ah shoo go on mah way…many fings ah do, af'ah aw.”*** Lupin said through his tearing eyes. He disapparated abruptly.

“Uh oh.” Ginny said.

“Hopefully that isn't an omen.” Hermione said sheepishly. “Burning the minister's tongue before the ceremony.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” Harry insisted. “Everyone's been obsessing over this thing for months. It's absolutely fool-proof.”

- - -

* Okay I'm no flower expert, all I know is when my aunt got married they stored the flowers in the fridge. So I guess flowers are supposed to be in a dark, cold place. Yeah. It was kinda unpleasant that morning though, when I went for some food and pulled out a bouquet. I can't eat flowers. Word.

** Translation: “I…I'm quite all right. Was a bit warm for my liking…but I'm definitely awake now.” - - I totally tried to talk like my tongue was burned so I could figure out how to type it out. That was so much fun.

*** Translation: Well then, I should go on my way…many things to do, after all.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In case any of you cared about my other story The Talisman…I'M SORRY. I know that's not good enough but seriously, school has taken over my life so much. I'm on Spring Break now though and I managed to finish this story so hopefully this is good enough? I hope? Please? :-(

Please Review. Constructive criticism is welcomed and humped in joy.

Anyway, next update tomorrow night (uh, Eastern Standard Time **NY REPRESENT. HOLLA**).