Forget Me Not || George Weasley

Chapter 56

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley

request the honour of your presence

at the marriage of their daughter

Ginevra Molly Weasley

to

Harry James Potter

on Friday, the twenty-fourth of December

nineteen ninety nine

at the Weasley Family Residence.

Olive lets out a mangled gasp of horror when the beautifully scrawled invitation in her hands is smudged by a rogue tear.

"Bloody hell," She whispers to herself, turning her head to quickly wipe her cheeks on the shoulder of her jumper. She should have known today would be a good day. She was wearing one of her favorite outfits, a baby blue jumper under her most outrageously colorful dungarees. Horizontal stripes of pastel purples and yellows and pinks stretched from the cuffs up to the straps, filling her with unbridled joy. She just hadn't realized today would be this good.

She had secretly hoped she would be George's plus one to Ginny's wedding. She'd grown quite fond of the girl, not to mention the entire Weasley clan. But this was better. This was an invitation specifically for her, with her name written in pretty gold letters on the envelope. This was an invitation, not just an additional seat at a table as the obligatory invited girlfriend. This meant that Ginny wanted her there, that Harry wanted her there, and it made her melt into a puddle of pathetically large tears.

She'd struggled to make friends after her incident two years prior, at least not ones willing to put up with the first few weeks where she would forget their names. She loved Nigel, even though their recent correspondence was full of not so brilliantly hidden jabs at her boyfriend. She adored Dennis especially, the boy that would tear out another piece of his shredded heart just to make someone else happy. Those were her only friends left from school. She just hadn't hoped that she would ever make any others. But she, Olive Murphy, had been extended a personal invitation to the wedding of two people she most certainly would call friends. People that were written in her planner under some of her favorite memories. 

She smiles and tucks the invitation into the pocket that sits on the chest of her dungarees, wiping away a few more tears before pushing out of the kitchen and back to her spot behind the counter.

Jackie glances up from where she's fixing one of the squeaky chairs at a table, doing a double take before her eyes narrow, "What's wrong with your face?"

"My face is focused on cleaning up for the night," Olive says lightly, hoping her employee won't notice the wobble in her voice. But of course she does.

"Cleaning? That's what made you cry? Come off it." The witch pauses, eyes still narrowed, "Don't tell me it's that sodding ice cream flavor you've been obsessing over—"

"No," Olive says quickly, grinning at Jackie, "I think I've gotten it to a place where I'm okay putting it out. There's a small batch chilling in the kitchen if you want to try."

Jackie hums, crossing her arms over her chest. Olive bites down hard on the inside of her cheek, trying desperately to keep herself from losing it. But she practically busts at the seams, tears streaming down her cheeks as she chokes out, "I was invited to Ginny and Harry's wedding."

There's a long beat of silence before the prickly witch breaks into a wide grin. Jackie laughs, shaking her head, "Merlin, Olive. Never change."

Olive smiles bashfully, rubbing her eyes to clear her vision. She looks down at her invitation, feeling warmth spread through the entirety of her body.