Romione❤️ one-shots

A Weasley Wedding

Harry took one last glance at number four, Privet Drive, knowing he'd never be back and not feeling at all sorry about it. For the first time in his life he was completely on his own; strangely enough, the thought gave him a lot more pleasure than he had ever imagined.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, giving him a curious look. "Hermione's waiting for us."

"Right," Harry replied. Ron tapped Harry's trunk with his wand to perform the Disillusionment Charm, then bewitched it to float along in front of them as they made their way toward Wisteria Walk.

"You know how Hermione is," Ron said, grinning broadly. "She's probably having kittens by now. 'Where are they? They're going to make us late for the wedding'."

As they approached Mrs. Figg's front door, sure enough, Hermione was waiting, peering through the curtains in the front window. The moment she spotted them she threw open the front door. "There you both are. What kept you?" she demanded.

"Harry was packing, Hermione," Ron argued, shooting Harry an I-told-you-so look.

"You mean to tell me that it took you two this long to pack using magic?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Sorry, let's get going," Harry cut in just as Ron was opening his mouth to retort.

Mrs. Figg's house was exactly as Harry remembered it, though he hadn't been there for a couple years. The same doilies covered the dusty old furniture, the same cabbage-smell permeated the house and the same framed photographs of her pet cats sat on every available surface.

"Merlin's beard, Harry! It's good to see you," exclaimed Mrs. Figg, shuffling up in her carpet slippers.

"Thanks. It's, er, good to see you too, Mrs. Figg. Er, how's Mr. Tibbles?" inquired Harry, trying to think of something nice to say.

"Oh, Tibbles is fine. Getting on in years, but still the best friend an old woman could have. And who is this?" asked Mrs. Figg, noticing Ron for the first time. "You must be Ron. Hermione told me so much about you. You are Arthur and Molly's son, right?"

"Right," Ron said, looking awkwardly around the room. "Nice to meet you."

Hermione turned to Mrs. Figg and gave her a hug. "Thank you so much for letting me stay here."

"Oh, my dear, it was no trouble at all," beamed Mrs. Figg, looking very pleased. "Well, I'm sorry you couldn't stay longer. I'd offer you some tea, but I know you're in a hurry. Over here, dears, to the fireplace."

"I thought only wizarding households were connected to the Floo network," Harry said, looking slightly puzzled.

"Considering the present circumstances, Dumbledore managed to arrange for my fireplace to be connected as a safety precaution. R-Right before he died," muttered Mrs. Figg, her eyes filling with tears. For a moment the four of them hung their heads, not knowing what to say.

"Yes, well, you don't want to be late," sniffed Mrs. Figg, wiping her eyes on one of her doilies.

Ron went first, carrying Harry's trunk. "Bye," he said to Mrs. Figg. He stepped into her fireplace and disappeared into the emerald flames as he shouted "The Burrow."

Hermione gave Mrs. Figg another hug and disappeared into the fire after Ron.

Harry stood in front of Mrs. Figg. "Well, thank you for everything," he said.

She pulled him into an exceptionally strong hug for someone her age. "Harry, your parents were good people, and you've grown into a fine young man." Tears streamed down her lined face. "If you ever get a chance, please do come by and visit."