Here We Go Again

Chapter 1: The Beginning

POV: Third Person

"No!" An elderly redheaded woman pointed her wand at two gardeners, making their eyes widen with worry at the threatening position they found themselves in. "Absolutely not. March right out of here! On you go!"

The youngest of the two, who was clearly stupid enough to not know that you never defy an older woman's orders, stepped closer to her; looking determined and unmoved. "Mrs. Weasley," he began, "we were told—"

"The nerve of you, boy!" Looking thoroughly outraged that the young gardener had attempted to lower her menacing wand-point, Mrs. Weasley shoved him back a step with said wand-point. "Do as you're told before I curse you badly that your mother won't recognize you!"

"—Gran!" Emerging from his room into the living room, looking just as handsome as always, even in his messy and wrinkled sleep-wear, Louis Weasley was right on time to spare an innocent life. "Dad told you to stop threatening the workers. He can't afford to hire others at the moment."

And as her blonde grandson gave the two gardeners an apologizing look, Mrs. Weasley frowned deeper. She lowered her wand a few centimeters. "Did your mother, or did she not, order twenty dozen roses?"

"Yes—"

"Aha!" And as quickly as she'd lowered her wand, Mrs. Weasley shot it back up and pointed it at the men.

"But then Mum changed the order to twenty dozen sunflowers!" Louis interjected quickly.

"Why on Merlin's earth did no one tell me about the change?"

Louis had plenty of reasons to tell his grandmother of why his mother hadn't involved her in the decor plans, but he decided to keep his mouth shut and keep his comments to himself. He did value his life. And because he did, he just gave her a sheepish smile and a shrug. (Yeah, that ought to work. Everyone fell for his charm.)

Lifting her head higher, Mrs. Weasley looked at the two gardeners like nothing had happened. "Well?" She motioned with her wand for them to proceed. "On you go. Come on. Quickly!"

Shaking his head, Louis accompanied the two workers towards their destination; all three of them skidding by the elder redhead with care as she started heading towards the kitchen.

"—No, Ronald." Exiting one of the rooms nearby, Hermione Weasley was followed by her husband. Her usual brown curls were silky straight, flowing down her shoulders; her big brown eyes were painted a very light lilac, accentuating the flecks of gold in them; and she was wearing a very well-fitted plum-colored dress.

"But, Hermione," Ron complained as he eyed her carefully. She was looking especially beautiful and just other married-couple-related words to him.

Hermione shook her head, looking determined. "I don't think Bill will appreciate it if we were to violate his house while everyone else is busy." She pulled the bust-line of her dress higher towards her collarbones. "Now if you please, do go and find Harry."

"Who cares about Bill!" Ron continued to protest. "There's a closet in the hallway—"

"Molly!" Hermione called loudly, so child-like.

Ron knitted his brows. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to tell your mother you can't behave like an adult instead of a hormonal boy, Ronald," his wife informed, spinning on her high-heels and headed off to the kitchen where she knew her mother-in-law was overseeing the food preparations.

He hurried after her, face flaming red. "It's not true, Mummy! She's lying!"

"—Are you sure about this?" Sneaking his way into the house, little Artie Weasley, who had recently turned twelve, looked cautiously at his older cousin. "Completely sure?"

Putting an arm around the boy's shoulders, Freddie looked at him seriously. "Come on now, lad," he said in a tone that suggested the offense. "Do you really think I'd pull a prank on you? No way. You're now the legacy, Artie. I'm teaching you tradition here!"

The small boy still looked unconvinced. "I don't know, Fred," he mumbled, twirling the package in his hands with a contemplating look. "My mum's getting carried away with the punishments now. She had me cleaning the attic all summer. Do you even know how many of Dad's old rubbish essays I read to keep myself entertained? Plenty! Enough that I can give pointers to the Headmistress on how to improve Hogwarts' rule-breaking."

Freddie clucked his tongue. "It's just a couple of firecrackers, Artie," he tugged on the boy's arm and started leading him down the hall. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Muggle or magical?" Artie asked as he took out a muggle-lighter he'd stolen from his Aunt Hermione.

Freddie grinned mischievously as he motioned the boy to enter Louis' room. "Both," and he laughed evilly as he shut the door behind him and Artie ripped open the package from Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

BAM!

"Mmm. Al, okay, stop. Stop!" Stumbling her way out of a closet, Nia Harper looked around to make sure the coast was clear as she started patting her blonde hair; fixing the haywire strands that would give her away. "Do you think they heard us?"

At the whisper his girlfriend—of almost four months now—gave, Al Potter chuckled as he adjusted his button-up shirt. "Doubt it. I placed the Silencing Charm on it."

"You've been practicing. I'm proud," Nia said casually with a smirk as she helped him fix himself up. "Though, I've got to admit the circumstance makes me feel more guilty than anything."

Al ignored the last bit as he played with the straps of her yellow dress. "I've hadn't noticed that you look immensely beautiful in this dress—especially since it's inside-out." He pulled at the tag that was sticking out.

"For fuck sakes!" Stomping once on the floor, Nia turned back and headed to the closet; pulling her dress over her head.

"I'll help you," Al offered automatically. He punched the air with his fist, a huge, smug grin on his face as he pulled out his wand from his pocket. Not a second later, the Silencing Charm was reinforced on the little closet.

And without expecting it, Nia let out a giant squeal as Al jumped on her and the door locked behind him.

"—You're not wearing that!"

Strutting their way through the backdoor of Shell Cottage, both looking beyond irritated and on the verge of spilling colorful curses, Lily Potter and her cousin Roxanne Weasley attempted to ignore the protests following them.

"I don't see what's wrong with it," a different voice spoke.

"Everything is wrong with it!" James Potter continued to hiss. He reached Lily, and gripped her arm and spun her to face him. "The entire world is going to be able to see your knickers if you bend! And I don't want some slimy gets talking about how they've seen your backsides!"

Roxy snickered. "Backsides. That's rich, James."

Lily rolled her eyes, pulling back her arm away from her brother's hold. She fixed her yellow dress, and then turned to glare at him. "Leave us alone. We care not for your opinion."

Knowing that his little sister could curse his manly-bits off, because that's what she was always aiming to hex off, James turned to the two behind him. "Well?" He snapped. "Do something!"

Liam Greengrass and Lucas Zabini, both dressed in the finest dress-robes, one slick black and the other a charcoal-grey, stared at their respective girlfriends and inspected their dresses. They noticed the tightest part of the dresses, and where the fabric ended to expose their toned legs and feet strapped in heels.

Sending a wink towards Roxanne, Zabini just sighed heavenly. He still didn't see anything wrong with the dress.

"Oi!" And noticing the boys' lingering gazes, James punched both on their arms.

Liam cleared his throat, a flush to his cheeks, and he looked down to his shoes. Lily was a sight to see, and he was sure he was the luckiest boy in the world for having such beauty beside him. And because he thought that about the Potters youngest, he felt complied to dissimulate his longing for her.

"Honestly," Lily muttered harshly, a frown creasing her forehead at her boyfriend's cower away from her brother. She turned to Roxanne and grabbed one of her hands, leading her towards the staircase.

"You better be going to change that dress, Lily!"

The redhead snorted at her brother's shout. "We're going to Dominique's room. And unless you don't want to get hexed, don't follow us!"

Shaking his shoulders to try and push out all of his misbehaved thoughts, Zabini patted James lightly on his back. "Ease up, mate. It's really not that bad."

But before James could tell the dark-skinned boy to shove off, there was a shout coming from the kitchen followed by loud stomps.

"Leave me alone, George!"

"I will once you've got some sense about you, Ginevra!" Frowning at his only sister, George Weasley followed after her. "Look at what you're wearing!"

Spinning on her heels, Ginny stared her brother down with the famous Weasley women glare. She put her hands on her hips, creasing the material of her burgundy dress. "I'm not ten anymore, you idiot," she snapped at him. "So piss off!" And like the very mature woman she was, she aimed a kick to her brother's shin and stuck her tongue out at him before heading towards the backdoor of Shell Cottage.

Cursing, George hopped his way back towards the kitchen. James shook his head at it all. Something was definitely wrong with the girls in this family. Where they all trying to give everyone a heart attack with such short dresses? It was a good thing Great Auntie Muriel had been dead for a few years now, or else the old bat would've disciplined all of them for such distasteful attire.

"Come on. It's almost time," James called Greengrass and Zabini; motioning for both of them to follow him back out of Shell Cottage.

And as the three boys went, no one was around when the distinctive sound of apparition sounded off the walls of the cottage.

"Easy there, Weasley." Steadying the redheaded girl that somehow had gotten stuck in his group, Draco Malfoy hesitantly patted her back to give her some comfort.

Rose was slightly bent on her knees, heaving as the dizziness was barely washing away once her feet touched solid ground. "I know why Dad prefers the Floo," she puffed out in a hushed tone.

Draco made an ungraceful facial expression at the mention of the Weasel. "Your idiot father can't stop splinching himself. That's the only reason why he won't apparate."

Stepping away from his mother, whom he had apparated with, Scorpius frowned at his father disapprovingly. "Father," he began in that parental tone. He reached Rose's arm, and gently rubbed little circles to give her more reassurance. "Don't you reckon it's too early to be insulting Mister Weasley?"

Mister Malfoy snorted. "Rose, have I insulted your father?"

"No," the redhead breathed. "You just pointed out his incompetence."

Not catching the sarcasm the Weasley girl was giving him, Draco smirked in his arrogant and superior way.

Shaking her head at her husband, Astoria Malfoy turned behind her towards the open backdoor. And as she inspected the commotion outside, she spotted a redheaded woman in a burgundy dress. "I see Ginny," she spoke. "I think we should go assist, don't you?"

But as Mrs. Malfoy took the box wrapped in silver wrappings from her son's hands, no one really followed her out as she made her way outside.

"You're alright, Rose," Scorpius whispered gently to his girlfriend. He brushed aside a few flyaway curls from her face. And at the exposed forehead, he pressed his lips softly there. "I promise we'll Floo from now on. I don't want my girlfriend splinching herself; especially if it's in her genetic coding."

Rose slapped Scorpius' chest roughly. "Do you honestly have to be such a git right—" The rest of her comment, per usual, was cut off when the blonde Malfoy boy chuckled mockingly and then captured her lips with his.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Stepping out of the kitchen because he had heard an unpleasant voice, Ron was right on time to see the blonde boy kissing his precious daughter.

Draco grimaced at them and turned to his childhood nemesis.

"Firewhiskey?" Ron asked automatically at Malfoy.

"And lots of it," Draco agreed, marching towards the kitchen and conjuring two shot-glasses from two sickles in his pockets.

Pulling away from her boyfriend, Rose was not wearing an expression that suggested she had just kissed the love of her life, but rather she was wearing her mother's parental scowl. "Dad," she called. "Mum told you you weren't allowed to drink anymore!"

"Leave him, Rose. Maybe he'll start singing those folk songs again. And you know how much those amuse me," Scorpius laughed as the redhead dragged him towards the kitchen.

"—I'm fat."

"You're not fat."

"I am!" As she reached the final step of the staircase and touched the living room floor, Dominique turned to all the girls behind her and pointed at the fabric of her yellow dress. "Look at me, damn it! I look like a fucking wheel of cheese!"

Emily Taylor laughed gently, swiftly walking over to the older girl. "You look radiant, Dom," she assured. "So, please, stop fidgeting."

Leaning into the Americana's comforting one-armed hug, Dominique frowned at the other girls. "Who's brilliant idea was it to dress us all up in yellow?"

One by one, all girls looked over to a silent redhead who'd just appeared back into her family's life two months ago: Molly Weasley II.

"Hey," she frowned at them. "It was just a suggestion. I didn't think they would take me seriously!"

Dominique shook her head at her favorite cousin. "Well, you should've known better, Molls! You've been M.I.A for ages, you know they would've been happy if you suggested we all be nude!"

"You're pregnant, Dominique," Lily cut in before Molly could retort. "You're expected to feel and get huge."

Roxanne and Lucy stepped away from their cousin; away from the danger zone as soon as Lily had said words that should've never been voiced.

"So now I'm huge?" The pregnant girl shouted back. There were uncharacteristic tears glazing her emerald eyes. (She was just nothing but mood-swings lately.) "I don't want to be here now! I'm a cow; look at me!"

Not really feeling bad for her cousin's tears, Lily leered. "Moo."

"Lily—" Stepping out of the kitchen, carrying a tray while two others floated behind her, Angelina Weasley was ready to scold her niece. "How many times do we have to tell you not to aggravate Dominique?" And before she passed all of them completely, Angelina added towards her daughter, "The safe-zone is two feet away, Roxy. You don't want another black-eye, do you?"

"Ooh! Are those mince pies?" Dominique wiped her two-second tears, following after her aunt and the food she was taking outside.

The rest of the girls shared a skeptical look, but followed after her anyway.

Crack.

Apparating in the living room of Shell Cottage, Teddy Lupin looked around and found no one. And because he wasn't bombarded by redheads, he felt worry crawl up his spine.

He pulled back the sleeve of his dress-robes, exposing a silver watch he'd received on his seventeenth birthday from his adoptive parents. "Holy hell! I'm late!" And as he covered the screen of the watch with his sleeve again, he felt nausea now creating bile in his throat. If he was late to this thing, Fleur was going to unleash herself upon him with all of her French wrath! And by that he meant that he was sure the woman was going to chop him into pieces and then feed him to the Burrow's chickens!

"Mum!" Teddy shouted in hysterics, bolting towards the open backdoor that led out to the gardens of Shell Cottage.

"—Out the door, kids!" Standing on the outside of the entrance to the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley motioned everyone inside it to exit out hurriedly. "We're behind schedule. Move!"

Racing out of the door first was Ron. "Grab the Firewhiskey, Malfoy!" He reminded the blonde man as he held the shot-glasses.

"Charming that they're friends now, right?" Harry Potter smirked, glancing at his best friend as she had an arm laced through his and they headed towards the garden together.

Hermione threw daggers at the retreating figures of her husband and Malfoy. "Yes, of course. It's so charming to have Draco bloody Malfoy in our lives."

"You know you love the ferret," Harry laughed mockingly, earning him a pinch from Hermione and a shout from his mother-in-law as the latter pushed her husband Arthur, George, and Percy and Audrey out the backdoor.

With another BAM that resounded by the opening of a closet door, Nia and Al stumbled out of it once more.

"It's starting," Nia hissed, pushing her boyfriend away as she fixed her dress and her hair. "Your mother's going to murder us."

"I left my tie!"

"Forget about it!" Nia told him, gripping his arm before he stormed back towards the closet.

And as they both felt the sun-rays touch them, the wind brush by them, and the sound of crashing waves in their eardrums, Nia hurried towards the nearest bush and picked up the flowers she'd hidden there.

Back inside Shell Cottage, Bill Weasley peeked his head out of a gap of a bedroom door. He heard silence, and so he stepped out fully. He inhaled calmly. Finally, the moment of silence he'd been longing for.

And just as he was going to settle himself in the armchair in his living room, his lovely wife marched her way in from the garden. "Bill! What are you doing 'ere? Eet iz about to commence!"

Bill made no move to head towards her. Instead he remained on his stance, letting out a mumbled curse.

Fleur narrowed her glittering eyes at her husband. "Now, Bill!"

And with his wife's last order still echoing around him, Bill frowned angrily. "Bloody people in and out of my bloody home! What the hell do they—"

Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder caused by a pale finger. "Daddy?"

Bill turned and his angry gaze caught sight of his oldest daughter, Victoire.

"Are you alright, Daddy?" She asked him, a small, teasing smile on her face.

The man returned the smile, forgetting about his irritation as something else became the prominent feeling in his chest. "I'm just extremely nervous, sweetheart."

"You're nervous?" Victoire laughed. "Oh, Daddy. Look at how I'm dressed! I look ridiculous. I don't even know why I listened to Molly. She's has the worse fashion sense."

Bill patted his daughter's cheek with his hand softly. "Now, Vic, you know Molly did an amazing job. You do look beautiful, honestly." He laced his arms through her slender one, and then he flexed tightly. "So, we're doing this together, alright? So I want a deep breath from you because here we go."

Slowly, father and daughter made their way down the path that led to the backdoor of their home. And as they approached closer and closer, every centimeter coming up fast, they could smell the grass, the flowers, and the mist of the sea surrounding the cliff were their beloved cottage sat.

"They're coming!" Someone shouted from the outside.

But before Victoire and Bill could enter the garden, they were shoved aside by Freddie and Artie. And as the two raced to their assigned seats, a firecracker that fell from Artie's pocket was squashed by Bill's foot as he proceeded.

As a gentle melody started to be played by a string of harps, Victoire peered up at her father. "You ready?" She asked in the tiniest murmur.

Bill's eyes glazed over with the pressure of threatening tears.

He was very much aware of all the smiling faces turned towards their direction. Many faces he recognized as family, friends, coworkers, and a few of guests that weren't his. This was the moment of truth, was it not? It was time for Bill to do this all over again, but in a different side and with a different ending that didn't belong to him.

And it was in that moment that he realized how quickly time flew past him.

Catching sight of Teddy standing alongside James, Al, and Louis, Bill felt a chuckle getting stuck in his throat. The boy looked far more nervous and terrified than what he'd felt when he was doing this. He stood shakily, the roots of his hair already gaining a hue of color from his anxiousness.

"I'll never be ready to let you go, darling," Bill said to his daughter in a quiet demeanor. "But I have to, don't I?"

Victoire just glanced at her father; tears welled up in her blue eyes.

Walking casually, Bill fixed a wrinkle on her wedding dress without looking at her. "It's the end now."

"No," Victoire whispered back, slowing down the pace on the white-fabric aisle in the middle of her mother's garden. And before she could say another word, she glanced up at the alter awaiting a few feet away.

She saw her sister, the maid of honor, much to her protests of there being a weight-limit on that title, standing with the other girls she'd chosen for brides maids. They all stood perfectly together, dressed in a tasteful yellow, and sunflowers held tightly in their hands.

A tear slipped out from the corner of her right eye as she saw Teddy waiting for her. He was all her future ready to be lived.

This was it, wasn't it? She was getting married. She was a few important minutes from becoming Victoire Lupin.

And right as she reached the end of the aisle now, she peered up at her father once more as he released her arm from his. She lifted herself on her toes, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek. And before her father could direct one of her hands towards Teddy, she whispered to him, "It's just the beginning now."

AN: Well, it is now July 6th 2012, a few years after I first wrote this sequel. And as of today, it's when I start re-editing this story. So if you're reading, I hope you have patience and enjoy the story as it is, or as it's being corrected. (: