The Wedding

And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love,
Great clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above.

But if you close your eyes,
Does it almost feel like
Nothing changed at all?

Pompeii - Bastille.

"Okay, okay. I know everyone wants ta get back to the schmoozing and the Butterbeer, so I'll be brief…" Charlie Weasley's loud voice carried well out of the marquee and anyone who had still been whispering among themselves immediately quietened and gave the Weasley who was standing on a chair to see over everyone, their full attention.

Charlie, as ever, was grinning broadly, his hair wild and sticking out in all directions as he stood before the group. On his right, Bill and Fleur stood arm in arm and both glowing with happiness as they looked up at him with interest. To the left, the parents of both the bride and the groom stood.

"As Bill's best man, and little brother, I thought it was kinda my duty to say somethin' on his wedding day. Mostly to embarrass him a bit in front of everyone, I mean, what else are brothers for?"

Everyone smiled, half the crowd chuckled softly and two equally loud voices chimed in with a hearty " 'ear, 'ear!".

Spurred on, Charlie continued. "But first, I'd just like to remind you all that we now have the first Mrs. Weasley in the family—well you know what I mean, Mum-" He winked, casting a slightly sheepish look sideways at his parents. "And with six sons, I think it's reasonable to expect at least one more eventually."

His blue eyes scanned the crowd and rested on Ron, Fred and George in turn before grinning broadly and shrugging. "But knowing myself and my brothers, I don't think it'll be for a while."

Bill let out a loud slightly wolfish laugh and squeezed his new wife's arm affectionately.

Fred and George exchanged grins and George caught the eye of one of the Delacour cousins and winked suggestively. She promptly gave him a shocked look that quickly turned into one of haughty disgust and turned away with her nose in the air.

"So cheers to Billy for manning up and settling down…we were starting to lose hope when he found his first grey hair at only 22…when he didn't have the luxury of bein' able to blame that on any wolfish characteristics."

Clearing his throat, Charlie looked down at the couple and beamed. "Seriously though, congratulations, Bill. Who woulda thought you could land a girl like that?" He raised his glass and held it aloft in a toast. "Welcome to the clan, Fleur. To Bill and Fleur Weasley!"

"To Bill and Fleur!" Most of the crowd echoed, raising their own glasses and drinking to the newlyweds who kissed.

Charlie dropped from his perch atop the chair, and the music struck up again anew in the air with a jovial lively tempo. Fred and George immediately started up clapping a rhythm to the music, which many of the guests joined in at once, stepping back and parting to provide a space as Bill held out his hand for Fleur. Smiling as widely as anyone had ever seen her, Fleur took it keenly and glided out with him onto the dance floor.

Any pain and thoughts of war were temporarily forgotten as all eyes followed the couple swirling and gliding across the dance floor. For tonight, there was nothing but love and happiness all around. Nothing else mattered at the moment. It was easy to forget that members of the Order were still patrolling outside of the festivities.

After a few minutes, Arthur and Madame Delacour joined in the dancing, and Monsieur Delacour soon followed with Molly, effectively opening the dance to all.

Having quickly smooth talked his way into the affections of one of Fleur's friends, a graduate of Beauxbatons, Charlie wasted no time in having a spin around the dance floor himself.

Hermione had found herself an old admirer in Viktor Krum who, to the surprise of many, had been invited to the wedding. She was promptly whisked away by a very jealous Ron, much to the amusement of his brothers who watched the scene.

xxxXxxx

"What have you been doing, young man? Your ears are lopsided!"

George barely supressed a glare and forced a smile that came out more like a grimace as he ground out through his teeth, "I noticed, Auntie Muriel, you already said that today."

"Well then why haven't you fixed it yet?" The crow like old woman snapped, roughly slapping at her great nephew's cheeks. George winced and drew himself up out of her reach.

"Because I can't, you old co-"

"Don't you talk to me like that, boy. I'm much too old to be spoken to with that tone." She snapped indignantly and then seemed to hesitate, narrowing her eyes. "Which one are you?"

"George." George answered dryly, his eyes darting around trying to find an excuse to disappear.

"You stupid boys will be the death of each other. That's what I always said. Arthur always did need to keep a tighter leash on his sons." She tutted and fixed the twin with a piercing stare. "Well don't just stand there gawking like a troll, go do something useful."

George didn't need to be told twice. He eagerly stepped around Great Aunt Muriel and made a face and an obscene gesture at her back before vanishing into the crowd before she could catch him out on it.

"You ladies should see it next time you're in England. I guarantee I have something somewhere in the shop that'll tickle your fancy." Fred smiled charmingly and winked as he subtly slid his arm around the chair of the girl sitting nearest to him. He was having considerable success in chatting up three of the part-Veela cousins he had greeted before the ceremony. All of whom were exceptionally beautiful and all were giggling encouragingly at Fred.

Suddenly a hand clapped down on Fred's shoulder and George slid smoothly into a chair between two of the girls with an identical grin.

"What, you're not gonna introduce me?"

Fred made a face at his twin and kicked his leg under the table, something which only made George grin wider as he included himself in the conversation.

"George Weasley, ladies. As you can tell, we're twins and I'm the more handsome of the two."

"Keep dreaming, Lugless." Fred recovered and grinned back, gesturing to each of the women with the hand that wasn't currently making its way around the shoulders of the brunette beside him. "This is Marie, Isabelle and…" He winced slightly and held out his hand to the blonde on George's left, hoping inspiration would strike him before she realised he'd forgotten her name.

"Amelie." She huffed indignantly and swept her silver skirts over her knee as she daintily hooked one leg over the other.

Seeming much more interested in Fred than his double who had just arrived, Isabelle on George's right, cast her blue eyes quickly over the man who had just slotted himself in beside her and did a double take at the bandage.

"What 'appened to your 'ead?!"

George did not fail to note the way the women on either side of him edged away slightly and fixed him with slightly shocked, and very haughty expressions. His pride took a little hit and he wrinkled his nose a little, reaching up to gingerly touch the left side of his head.

"Oh that. Dark wizards, ya know. Dozens of them actually," He explained truthfully and then embellished the story a little. "We took all of them on at once, left me a bit deaf but some of them were a lot worse off I assure you."

George smiled broadly as the witches seemed suitably impressed and Amelie reached up to brush her fingers flirtatiously over the bandage. "Dozens? You must be very brave, George."

"Well we are formally Gryffindors, gotta be brave for that. And I was there too." Fred quickly chimed in, not keen to lose the attention to George so easily.

Marie turned in her seat, looking a little bemused. "Gryffindor" meant nothing to them after all.

George winked cheekily across the table and looked more than a little smug. "Yeah but you don't have a war wound. Told you I was still better lookin', Freddie."

"Does it 'urt terribly?"

His head was buzzing and humming again and George frowned a little and leaned his head a little further left to better hear over the music as Amelie's words were lost.

"What was that?"

"I said, does it 'urt?" She repeated louder, in slightly broken English.

"Oh, it's not so bad. Just a little hard of hearing."

"Old man." Fred hid behind a cough and looked away innocently as George shot him a look that clearly said 'I didn't hear it, but I'm pretty sure I know what it was'.

"You enjoyin' the wedding then, girls?" Fred asked suddenly, ignoring his brother and bringing his arm back off of Marie's chair.

Isabelle tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and cast a critical eye over her surroundings. "I still think Paris was more….appropriate. England simply does not have ze beauty."

"It is not ze wedding I would 'ave thought Fleur would want." Marie added, lifting her nose slightly. They had clearly been inspecting the family their cousin had just married into.

The twins exchanged a look and their mouths twitched identically as they bit back snorts of laughter. George glanced over his shoulder to where Fleur was chatting animatedly with her new parents-in-law, seemingly praising their efforts.

On the verge of happy tears yet again, Molly embraced Fleur warmly, and George thought with amusement the pair of them had never been so warm to one another.

"Yeah, she seems completely miserable." Fred grinned and winked, effectively softening the arrogance that the French women had let shine once again.

"Think I'll give the floor a little spin." George announced, getting to his feet and holding out his hand invitingly. "Any of you ladies care to join me?"

Isabelle was first to respond and with a bell-like giggle, took the hand George had offered and gracefully swept from her chair. Fred was more than happy with the arrangement, after all, it did still leave him Marie and Amelie to himself to charm.

xxxXxxx

There was definitely truth to what Charlie had joked about, and that was that it was probably very unlikely there would be another wedding very soon. Charlie was definitely the womaniser of the family and no one was quite sure where he had gotten that from. That wasn't to say the twins didn't get their fair share of charming pretty girls and had their share of girlfriends, and neither of them could foresee themselves settling down anytime soon. Ron was still only seventeen, and unless he and Hermione suddenly got their act together and realised that just about everybody in England knew they fancied each other, George wouldn't be surprised if Ron sat around grouchy and jealous for the rest of his days. Percy? There wasn't much to say about Percy. He hadn't even said so much as a "how do you do?" in a long time, let alone give Bill and Fleur his well wishes.

Spinning Isabelle under his arm, George flashed a grin as she let him lead her onto the dance floor. It was definitely the Veela in her, like Fleur, that made her particularly beautiful. She was wearing a dress of pale lavender that swirled around her ankles and complimented the chocolate brown hair that fell in ringlets down her back.

But it didn't take long for George to regret asking her to dance. After less than a full minute of spinning and rapid movement, the world began to sway before his eyes and the side of his head began to throb again. It was nothing bad, but he felt a little ill and the blood was pounding in his head, inhibiting his hearing more than it already was.

He stopped abruptly, causing his partner to nearly trip over his feet and earning an impatient 'tsk' from her.

"Sorry," George apologised, letting her go "Need some air. Nice dance, love."

Excusing himself, he slipped through the crowd outside the marquee and leaned on one of the poles as he waited for the spinning to subside.

"You okay, Fre-George? Darn, here I was sayin' I couldn't mix you two up now."

George opened one blue eye and peered around to find Tonks making a face and shaking her head at herself. He smirked and held up a hand.

"Yeah I'm fine, just need air for the ol' head."

"Oi, what'd ya do, you lanky goose?" Tonks chirped, chipper and poked George good naturedly in the side, masking her concern.

"I danced, is that a crime? My poor head's still sensitive, ya know?" The throbbing was starting to subside now and George let out a breath and straightened up. His head was still fuzzy like it was full of mothballs but the dizzy spell had mostly come and gone. Glancing back,

"That depends if you dance like Charlie or not." Tonks quipped, twirling her wand around in her fingers and George followed her gaze toward the sky for a moment.
It must be her turn on watch, George had completely forgotten that the Order and the Aurors were out here, keeping a wary eye out for any breaches of the protective enchantments.

"Some party, huh?" George grinned, looking slowly back over his shoulder and the witch beside him copied the action and beamed.

"Sure is. They sure deserve this."

"Don't think I've ever seen Mum so proud of any of us." George smirked, his eyes twinkling in mirth as he drew himself back up to stand straight. "Or so relaxed for a long time."

"Distractions do wonders." Tonks said, gazing off in her husband's direction idly and then clapping her hand on George's arm. "Love to chat more, but I think I needa speak to me other half. Wotcher, George!"

The twin grinned and waved as Tonks excused herself. Having recovered from the dizziness, he re-joined the festivities. Swiping a glass of Firewhisky from a passing waiter and downing it quickly enough to drop it on the next tray that passed close by, he sidled his way back through the crowd.

The music had suddenly stopped, and a dead silence fell across the marquee, no one spoke and all eyes were turned to the dance floor where a silver stream had suddenly broken through the crowd and was twisting gracefully into the shape of a lynx.

Fred rose to his feet at the side of the dance floor and vaguely registered George pushing his way through to his side.

As Arthur stepped forward toward the Patronus, the cat opened its jaws and began to speak.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Someone screamed. And all hell broke loose.