The snow fell softly on the ground of Hogwarts and all was still but for the sound of quiet bells ringing in the distance. The ghostly sound of a piano rose and a quiet clattering of feet could be heard for miles away. Out by the lake, a figure in white made her way down an aisle of flowers and friends. Her coppery locks were in gentle waves and hung straight down her back, her dress a mermaid cut. As she approached the flowering altar at the center of the gathering, the man by her side stepped gently to the side to envelope a sobbing woman in a hug. The bride continued forward, eyes shining as she finally stopped and took her place across from a young man with decidedly untidy black hair and glasses, but the joy in his eyes matched her own. Their vows were short, but genuine. And the kiss was tender but passionate.
Silent no more, the grounds erupted with cheer and applause from the odd characters watching the ceremony. Among the most odd guests were a stunningly gorgeous blonde held tightly by a man with eeriely wolfy characteristics, a young woman wearing bright yellow robes, and an absolute swarm of redheads- most notably one who was nearly transparent, standing by a man who could have been his clone. Everyone looked overjoyed for the young couple. The atmosphere was one of pure love and hope. It was positively sickening.
Such a mess of flower petals and paper confetti and wine glasses and cake absolutely smashed into the grass, and the children feeding the giant squid said smushed cake, and shoving this cake into each other's faces and clothes, and now half of them were on flying broomsticks, throwing cake across the fields and enchanting it too to fly, and- the list could go on and on and it was making him absolutely livid to think about, he had half a mind to go over there and-
He was interrupted by the familiar sensation of a tail swishing at his legs, and he looked down, hoping to see the one bright spot in his life, but instead of the familiar tabby, he saw a pudgy tortoiseshell cat looking up at him.
"Sorry! I'm sorry! Mr. Tibbles, leave the nice man alone, now, I'm certain he's too busy to deal with the likes of you!" A woman's voice, clearly agitated, came over the hills, followed by the woman herself. She looked tired, and her hair was greying, but she had kind eyes. He gave a start and cleared his throat. "Oh, er, it's erm, no trouble, I...I quite like cats. Have one of my own, matter of fact...somewhere 'round here, must be..." A loud meow cut him off and he jumped again. The scrawny tabby with big yellow eyes had appeared suddenly behind him. "Ah! Mrs. Norris. This here is Mr...Tibbles, was it? And Ms...ah, sorry miss, I didn't quite catch your name."
The woman blinked. "Oh. Bit Rude of me I s'pose, I, erm, that is," she seemed rather flustered, "I'm Arabella Figg. And you, you are?"
The man let go of his breath. "Argus Filch."