Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the great, and wise, J.K. Rowling.

Prologue: Ottery St. Catchpole

In the small village Ottery St Catchpole, Walter Urwall was buttoning (rather clumsily) his tux that was fit to burst with the incompressible bulge that was his stomach.

Overall, Walter Urwall was a happy man, always to be seen stealing swigs from his concealed liquor bottle despite his doctor's insistence that "the stuff is "bad for the liver". However, today happened to be his nephew's wedding day. And after much convincing from his likable nephew, decided that today he would be unwillingly sober. After all he was to lead the happy bride down the isle in place of her father. He could not guess (and was too shy) to ask the pretty girl why her own family wouldn't be attending. For all he knew her lot was dead. Perhaps she had been orphaned years ago, maybe they were fugitives. But who was he to question? At least the action would give him some healthily needed approval from his other relatives, who unfortunately viewed him as the family drunk.

His nephew, Mark, had always be kind to the old buffer, and Walter would use that kindness to weasel some sympathy out of his sister, Roofie. As usual, his sister was gossiping with some nearby cousins, who were all wearing what Walter liked to call, "those feathery clothes" Roofie's hat was so adorned with artificial feathers that reminded him of a flamingo, and ugly flamingo. Sad enough he could say the same about her dress. Roofie's rather large lips moved with enthusiasm, flapping consistently against her unusually large teeth, "She's rather odd if you ask me. Don't get me wrong, Rose is a smart girl, not bad on the eyes either. But the way she talks sometimes! It's as if she walked out of a science fiction! And don't get me started on her clothes…I just hope that our Mark is making the right decision."

The cousin's gave little gasps, and nods of agreement, and cast their eyes upward, as if looking at the bride who was bound to come any second.

"Eh she's not all that bad!" Walter called, "she's a nice girl, that outta be enough."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand social propriety," Roofie exclaimed, "you've never been one to judge others Walt."

"Aint I 'ere Roofs? I'm doin' the lad a favor. And for the record, I've taken a likin' to Rosey, very generous she was the first time I visited their 'ouse. Never met someone so willing to have guests..."

"Well that hardly counts Walter. The girl's manners are atrocious. Last week Auntie Maud said that she caught the girl twiddling a long stick around her hair while she ate. She was reading some sort of magazine that looked ghastly. I've never heard of such a thing. Not in this family, except you of course."

"You just shut your trap and let 'er be Roofs. The girl doesn't need more on her plate at the moment." He gave her a contentious glare, and she slowly receded, sniffing and letting out a small "humph." And set out to ignore Walter by criticizing some nearby decorative roses. Walter started to inch his way closer to Roofie, but before Walter could approach his dear sister, and convince her that his living conditions would be "better off with a couple pounds or two", whispers rang out in excitement that it was time. Walter quickly stationed himself before the double doors, waiting for the lass to arrive.

In the middle of the excitement, standing before rows of eager relatives, stood the groom. His hair slicked back, and bow tie perfectly executed.

He was a handsome man, whose eyes had a kind of sparkle to them. He gazed toward the doors that his love was about to appear from any second. Please let her be normal he thought, just for today. But as time went by, and the quarry of people became restless, he began to wonder (as he had on many an occasion) where she was. Hadn't she had adequate time to get ready?

However, the groom never did find out whether she would be 'normal' that day or not, for his bride was running down the stairs and out of the church to the displeasure of Roofie who gave a quick call of, "Well I never!" as Rose pushed passed the gawking cousins. Walter, who had witnessed the scandal merely shrugged, and sneaked into a nearby room to take a long gulp from his hidden flagon.

The bride ran with all the gusto of a rapid hippogriff out the church doors, and hid behind a pair of large trees that stood in the grass. Making sure that no one had yet exited the church, Rose hid, took out the wand she had stuffed down her bodice, and with a loud CRACK, disaperated to the surprise of a nearby squirrel.

Thank you to all who read the prologue! More will come, and I do appreciate comments! So please comment and look for more soon, if you liked it!

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