Pink Green Blue

Final Draft by Paid AccountHourglass winnerkoonelli

Rating: PG-13. Created: November 2nd, 2005. Updated: November 2nd, 2005. Read Reviews (32)
Disclaimer: Characters, the magical world, etc, is property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros, not the owner of this fic.

Final Draft

This piece of parchment is almost brown with age and extremely dog eared at the corners. There is tear near the bottom and the magic holding it together is fading.

This piece of parchment has a dark ring in the bottom left corner the size of a shot glass and the paper has a faint line through the middle where it has been folded too many times.

The writing on this piece of parchment is a rushed, muddled scrawl and the ink has run slightly in the left corner. There are many arrows curling around paragraphs and three footnotes labelled in a complicated system to show which should be read where.

This piece of parchment has been in eight different houses, one school, one train, three buses, twenty-three shops and six cafes. It has been across three cities and two countries. This piece of parchment has been wiped clean twenty six times, thrown in the bin five times and left out in the rain twice.

This is what this piece of parchment says:

This speech belongs to Sirius Black and is not to be read by anyone without prior agreement because the owner knows that many bets have been placed by certain individuals on the time taken to deliver said speech.

This parchment has far too many security curses on it to count. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! PRONGS! THAT MEANS YOU!


1) Speak loudly! Wormtail’s mother is very deaf and will bang her stick on the table continuously if she cannot hear.

2) Moony says you look best from the right, so turn head left more often.

3) Find out times that Professors have bet on and avoid accordingly.

4) Most importantly: deliver speech as if Prongs will not kill you when all other Aurors have left the building.

Best Man’s Speech- Final Draft

Witches and Wizards, ladies and gentlemen, kids, creatures and anyone else I’ve missed,

It’s not that this day isn’t totally brilliant from anybody’s point of view, it’s just that you must understand, this is one thing Prongs and I have always disagreed on.

I, it is safe to say, will never, ever get married. Here ignore sighs of despair and tears of woe that will undoubtedly come from female guests I was a frequent witness to the massive amount of preparation and stress involved in organising a wedding, although most of it seemed to be on the part of Prongs’s mother rather than him or Lily. Raise champagne glass to Mrs Potter

I have to come clean here, Mrs Potter, when you were on many of your thundering campaigns to Lily and Prongs about the shape of doilies of the colour of hibiscuses, I’m admitting right now that I did cover up for them while they sneaked out to dinner reservations and other events that weren’t quite so dull.

Anyway, along with the actual organising of the wedding itself, there’s so much stuff you have to go through before you even have a chance of enchanting the rings.

Now, I imagine it’s tricky enough for your usual couple, but as you may have guessed, if Lily and Prongs are your usual couple, then I am Dugbog. For a start, they met a Hogwarts, and speaking from experience, not many people stay together through the excruciating torture of exams or the distractions of Quidditch and other students holding the doors of broom cupboards open. It’s good to see you again, by the way, Hannah.

Then there was the problem of James fancying Lily. You’d think this wouldn’t be a problem, I know, and you’re right. Normally, this would be a critical factor in getting them to where they are now. The problem was that Lily wasn’t all that keen on Prongs. To put it politely, she detested the breath in his lungs and the cocky smirk on his face.

And Prongs was cocky. Duck here in case Prongs decides to throw a salad fork I mean, he could afford to be because everyone either loved him or was insanely jealous of him. I’m just being truthful here, but everyone knew who we were in that school, except from, apparently, Lily, because when Prongs first asked her out in our third year, I have it from reliable observers that the conversation went something like so:

James: ‘Would you be interested in going out to Hogsmeade this weekend with the one and only James Potter?’

Lily: ‘Who?’

Apparently, at the time Lily hadn’t bothered to learn Prongs’s name only knew him as ‘that self-important prick in my house who loses all the points I spend all my time making up’.

Telling her the name, however, was another mistake, it seemed. For now she had a face to direct all the anger at but at least now she knew who she was telling to go take a long walk off a short broomstick when he asked her out.

Fancying the life out of someone tends to do strange and unpredictable things to the brain. For someone who had until then been widely regarded as the coolest person at Hogwarts (bar me of course) James seemed unusually keen on abandoning any dignity he might have previously had when trying out techniques to get Lily to warm up to him, or in fact, even speak to him at all.

One of my personal favourites is probably: ‘You know, I heard that if you buy that old Warlock in Three Broomsticks a gin, he’ll get up and play you a rendition of Celestina Warbeck on his bagpipes. Will you come with me and find out?

Or perhaps: ‘Please, Madam Pince, I know I’ve got a life ban from the Library, but if I could just nip in to talk to the Head Girl . . .’ to which our beloved librarian replied ‘I should think not, Potter, as Miss Evans is actually a major instigator in your life ban.’

I suppose it must have gotten quite tiresome for our Lily. You know, all those flowers, sweets, concert tickets, restaurant invitations etc. that she endured, suffering tragically for all those years. Finally, though, she’d had enough. Old Prongs was driving her to despair, not that her marks slipped, nor did her behavioural conduct change, nor did her Head Girl duties suffer, and she always looked a pristine as ever. (I’ve not yet worked out how you can keep a school uniform that spotless, shoes that polished, hair that neat or nails that clean.) Here signal photographer to take picture of Lily’s face, which will hopefully have gone bright shade of red

I think it was something Remus said to her at one time or other after a prefects’ meeting. Well, obviously we cornered him the second Lily said ‘yes’ to James. I mean, witches that stubborn don’t just change their minds of their own accord, do they? Soon enough, the truth came out, and what he’d said to her was:

“Surely one drink would be a lot less hassle than keeping this up for Merlin-knows-how-long.”

Anyway, as a result, they went out. (Although, even then, it was a close one. If James hadn’t recovered from his minor panic-attack, I don’t know what would have happened.) And, magic-less miracle, something must have gone right, because they went out again, and again, and again . . .

The usual events conspired, a first year walked in on the Head Boy and Girl in Greenhouse One wave at Poppy Sleighman,James asked Lily to the Leavers’ Ball, a record-breaking nought point three six seconds after it was announced,Lily got trapped in one of the bathrooms at James’s old house while meeting his parents, James encountered at least one member of Lily’s family who disapproved of him, and both of them forgot their one-year anniversary and hoped desperately that the other wouldn’t be too angry.

Finally, last year, on the fourth of October, Tuesday, at fifty-two minutes past one in the morning (I know because James has chiselled this precise date into the lid of the box in which he keeps his Nimbus) James asked Lily if she would marry him.

Rumour has it that she only agreed after a few stiff drinks, but I’m fairly sure she just said ‘yes’.

More of the usual events conspired. When James’s mother heard, she pounced on Lily and squeezed her so hard that the poor girl’s lungs made an odd, wheezing sound for about a week after, when Lily’s sister heard, James had to duck the vase of carnations that went flying at his head. James asked yours truly to be best man; yours truly graciously accepted. Dates for the big day were considered on the basis of sunshine, wind velocity, humidity, convenience for everyone involved, and whether there was a Quidditch match on; Lily’s dad forgot he had to write a speech until three in the morning last night and there was a month-long war between the bridesmaids over what colour their dresses would be.

Fortunately, nothing seems to have gone drastically wrong. No one tripped, or ran from their fiancée, or said the wrong name. The Firewhiskey keg arrived only three minutes late, and as far I know, there’s been no mention from anyone about that unfortunate incident at the stag-do.

And as for how Lily and James will manage, being, you know, married to one another, as best friend and long-term witness of their dealings, I’d say that they’ll just about hack it. In fact, I think they’re far better off getting married, mostly because I get to wear this rather dashing suit. Locate maid of honour and wink

But just in case any of you can’t figure out what the secret to being married is, I’ll tell you something James’s dad said to me on the stag night, (admittedly, with his fourteenth vodka and tonic in hand).

“Being married is only like learning to fly. Most of the time, you feel like you could stay up there forever. Obviously there are going to times when you fall off, there are going to be some twigs you’ll have to trim, but just be patient, keep at it, don’t be scared to go higher and for the sake of magic, always stick to the same model!

Bow to the sound of thunderous applause and cheering that will certainly come from guests

Now you lot can raise your goblets to Lily and James Potter!

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