Something Blue
1. In Which Alicia Gives the Backstory
Alicia Spinnet did one more turn, checking the back of her dress in the mirror. Her reflection glared back her, unimpressed. The colour of the dress was an awful aquamarine, no friend to her tanned skin. The top layer was a light sheer fabric, made from spider silk. The bottom was stiff and opalescent, made from artificial fibres. The designer was a new up and coming witch from Paris. She'd risen to the top not because of her talent but because her designs were a blend of Muggle and Wizarding traditions. Three years after the demise of Voldemort the theme of the Wizarding World was hybridization. Alicia was all for the attempt to bring Muggle culture into the Wizarding World—she'd been quite pleased when she'd discovered jeans—but this was bordering on the ridiculous.
"I look like something from the bottom of the bloody sea!" her reflection said, huffing. "It's like I'm the daughter of a pearl and seaweed!" Alicia had read up on the theory behind magic mirrors. They communicated the self's innermost opinions on the image presented to them. No one knew how they were made, but they were rumours that Veritaserum was used in the process.
Alicia sighed, facing the mirror. There was nothing to be done. She had to go downstairs and face a crowd of two hundred or so people, many of which were some of the most important people in Wizarding Britain, looking her worst. She was going to kill Angelina at the reception. Maybe if this had been a small ceremony with only a private photographer in attendance she would have been more forgiving. She would have accepted her role as ill-dressed matron of honour and would have laughed whenever the photos were brought out. However, this was one of the most important weddings in British Wizarding history. Photos of her would forever be appearing in various books, haunting her well beyond the grave.
Grudgingly, Alicia had to admit that it wasn't all Angelina's fault. As soon as her engagement had been announced the press and Ministry officials had descended, all with their own agendas. The Ministry had also sent a liaison, a short plump witch in her late forties with curling blonde hair, who bore a strong resemblance to Dolores Umbridge. Like the Ministry officials, she was vague when she was not smiling or flattering Angelina and her family and friends. After an hour it became clear why the Ministry had sent her. A marriage between two high profile Quidditch players, one Gryffindor, the other Slytherin, would not simply be a marriage, but a political statement; a true hybridization. It had to be handled delicately. Angelina had begrudgingly handed over control of her wedding to the Ministry, only allowed to choose her wedding dress, and even that decision had to be approved by the Ministry.
Alicia was glad she hadn't followed in Angelina's footsteps and become the Quidditch star she'd wanted to be at sixteen. After the Ministry had finally admitted the Dark Lord's return in seventh year, she'd realized there were far more important things in life than a crowd shouting her name and using her as a means to propel their fantasies. She'd settled for a quiet life as a clerk in the Magical Law Enforcement. She might have been a small bolt in the machine of the law, but she consoled herself with the thought that without her the system wouldn't function at all. She was much better suited to this life. She wanted to be no one's hero nor did she want to be embroiled in politics. Angelina was better suited for the life of a celebrity and reluctant political symbol. She was much stronger.
After leaving Hogwarts, Angelina played Quidditch for a year and had made it clear to the world that she was meant to be a star. Her career came to a halt when the war began to consume Wizarding Britain and all sporting events were suspended. With time to spare and a need to fight, Angelina joined the regrouped Dumbledore's Army to help the Aurors and Order of the Phoenix. They patrolled neighbourhoods and sometimes went on surveillance and reconnaissance missions. During a routine patrol through Hogsmeade one night Angelina, Zacahrias Smith, and Katie Bell had come upon a group of twelve Death Eaters planning a second invasion of Hogwarts. There was something important within the castle the Dark Lord needed. It was a miracle all three had made it out of the fight alive and with all their limbs. For their courage, they'd received a Guild of Morgana.
Angelina's place in posterity had been solidified, but she'd wanted to be a part of Quidditch history as well. She returned to the pitch in perfect form a year after the war's end, as a chaser for the Chudley Cannons. No one had been more surprised than the team's fans when, finally, after so many years, they'd taken the League Cup.
Naturally beautiful and charismatic and a part of a winning team, Angelina became a certified celebrity. There were magazine covers and press events. She was invited to the balls and parties hosted by important people all over the world. She had the life that so many coveted. Alicia and everyone else had expected her to follow the script. She'd continue to play Quidditch, her star would rise, and she'd marry another Quidditch player as famous as herself. If that didn't happen then she'd marry someone outside the sport with a status equal to her own.
She had followed the script to some degree, she'd diverted in becoming engaged to Solan Montague, chaser for the Falmouth Falcons. He'd had no trouble fitting in with his teammates, already familiar with their rough style of playing. During the season Solan had done more than break a few heads. No Falcons game had been complete until two players from the opposing team had been taken to the hospital.
After years of separation, Solan and Angelina met again at the League Cup. It had been had an exciting game that had lasted nine hours. No player had left the pitch uninjured or high on energy potions. During the game, Alicia had seen a side of Angelina that was unlike the Gryffindor she'd known in school. With the Falcons playing their dirtiest, she'd decided to use their tricks against them and the rest of the team followed suit. There had been blurtings, blatchings, and blaggings and flacking and so on. Unlike the Falcons, who were mostly large and heavy players, the Cannons were made up of lithe players, who moved too quickly to be noticed. The Cannons were fouled only three times.
As the game progressed into the forth hour, it became clear that most of the energy and passion of the game was concentrated between Solan and Angelina. They circled one another when they weren't crashing into each other or stealing the quaffle. It was the same energy that had been present during the final Gryffindor/Slytherin match in seventh year. Once again, the audience was mesmerized.
The first sign of what was to come occurred at the end of the match. When Solan and Angelina shook hands, he'd held hers tightly for a long moment and gave her a genuine smile. "Bloody scariest thing I'd ever seen," was what Angelina had had to say about that smile. Unnerved by his behaviour she'd sought Solan out at the Quidditch Ball a few evenings later, as he knew she would. And the rest was going to be history. History because of the Second War.
Despite all the warnings of the Sorting Hat, the four Houses of Hogwarts had not come together during the war to set an example for the rest of Wizarding Britain. It was difficult to rebuild a broken state when one quarter of the population was distrusted and believed themselves, and rightly so, to be oppressed. The philosophers, the Unspeakables working deep in the Ministry, and anyone who took a moment to think, knew that the longer Wizarding Britain remained divided and the Slytherins remained outcasts the greater chance a new uprising would take place.
Angelina and Solan's marriage would be a step in the right direction, towards unity. Whether they wanted it or not they had become political figures. Despite their gross incompetence at times, Alicia agreed with the Ministry. The couple could not be left to do as they pleased, not when the stakes were so high. Alicia was tired of the fighting, tired of feeling as if the present was an interim between the last war and a coming one. It was why she hadn't said anything when Angelina had told her she was seeing Solan. She'd wanted to but her higher logical mind had told her not to. It knew an opportunity when it saw one.
Alicia sighed once more and tore herself from the mirror. She glanced at the clock. She had to be downstairs in five minutes with the other members of the wedding party. She'd stayed back because Angelina had seemed a little distressed. They'd talked for a bit and Angelina had assured her she was fine before disappearing in the bride's room. Alicia had stayed in the anteroom, listening to Angelina pace, just in case she was needed.
Listening attentively, Alicia didn't hear the rustle of heavy fabric or Angelina occasionally muttering to herself as she had earlier. She didn't hear anything from the next room, in fact.
"Angie, are you alright in there? I've got to get downstairs soon," she said, approaching the door of the bride's room.
Flobberworms were in Alicia's belly, curling around her stomach the way they had before she'd been knocked unconscious by a bludger fourth year.
She pushed the door open, anticipating the worst. Angelina lying on the bed, deathly still. The Ministry had warned that there were those who didn't want the wedding to take place and would do what they had to to see to that. Alicia shuddered slightly, walking into the circular room. She looked around quickly and did so again to be sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.
The room was empty. The window was open.