Disclaimer: Anybody that you do know is Rowling's. Anybody that you don't know is mine.

Note: Sorry about the length of this. I got a little carried away. However, this is only the beginning to a lovely convoluted plot for this year of Olivia's education. Do enjoy, "Hope" will be much more organized than "Friendship." Review!

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The next few weeks flew by, and the wedding came together beautifully. They would be holding the ceremony at a local church, but the reception would be in their own back yard. After the reception was over, Uncle Peter and Miss Rebecca would be leaving on their honeymoon to Spain, and Olivia would go and stay with the Potters until they got back.

On the morning of the wedding, Olivia woke up early, even though the ceremony wouldn't be until that afternoon. While the original plan had been for the wedding to take place at seven o'clock in the evening, they soon realized that that time wouldn't leave enough daylight for the reception, so they had moved it up to two o'clock. Still, there was no reason for Olivia to be awake at six, because everything was prepared and ready. All that she and Uncle Peter had to do was to get dressed and get to the church on time. Still, she hopped out of the bed and looked out the window, where she was relieved to see a bright and sunny day. Just then, someone knocked on her door, and when she had given permission for the person to enter, Uncle Peter stuck his head in.

"I thought I head you stirring in here. What are you doing up so early?" Olivia's guardian came into the room and put an arm around Olivia's waist while he asked.

She grinned up at him. "I'm too excited to sleep anymore. So now, I'll ask you to the same question. What are you doing up so early?"

"Same as you-I'm too excited!" They laughed easily together, and then Uncle Peter asked seriously, "Are you sure that you're all right with this, Olivia? No regrets?"

"I'm sure, Uncle. I love Rebecca, and I think that she fits into our family perfectly. Now cheer up! Everything's going to be perfect. Well, as long as you get your tie on straight!"

He groaned. "I never can manage the bloody thing…are you sure you haven't charmed it just to vex me?"

"Of course not! Besides, I'd have much more fun charming to come undone at the moment you say 'I do,' anyway."

"You little vixen!" He laughed, tweaked her nose, and then left the room.

The rest of the morning was very quiet. Olivia played the piano for her Uncle Peter, who declared it to be soothing. They ate a picnic lunch together outside, and then went back into the house to dress for the wedding.

Mrs. Fidgetworth met them at the door. "Where were you two, anyway? Hurry up, now! You don't want to miss your own wedding, now do you, sir?"

Mr. Williams muttered something under his breath about blasted old biddies, and then hurried to do the housekeeper's bidding. Olivia giggled and followed his lead.

Mrs. Fidgetworth had already placed her bridesmaid's dress on her bed, and after putting on the multitude of undergarments necessary for such a dress, Olivia pulled it over her head and buttoned up the tiny pearl buttons.

The dress was made of a rich emerald green that made her eyes sparkle and her red hair shine. It was a young lady's dress, made of stiff satin and with sleek sleeves that hugged her curves like a dream. The skirt blossomed out and just touched the top of her high heeled white boots with pearl buttons. It was a simple dress but that suited Olivia-she didn't like a lot of lace or frills.

With a guilty expression on her face, Olivia pulled out a contraband tub of hair potion that she had brought home with her from school and with its magical help, tamed her curly hair and wound it into an elegant French twist on the top of her head, sleek and smooth. Her one concession to popular attire was a small satin purse that tied at her wrist, a vanity bag. It was supposed to only hold a comb and a handkerchief, but Olivia's held something different. Her wand and phoenix feather she left sitting on her bedside table, but she placed the small golden ball that Professor Dumbledore had given her for Christmas inside her vanity bag, the Assistball. She was never without it, and now wasn't the time to start. With a touch of violet perfume at her wrists and behind her ears and a simple gold chain with a pearl pendent around her neck, Olivia looked into her mirror at the results.

It was not a young girl of twelve who looked out at her from the mirror, but a young lady of at least fifteen, she decided. Her eyes snapped with excitement, her complexion was porcelain, and she looked radiant with happiness. She heard Uncle Peter knock on her door and come in when she gave permission.

He was looking down at his troublesome bowtie and didn't see her at first. "Liv, could you help me with this? It's being such a bother…" She smiled, and swished forward to help her uncle. He looked up and gasped at the sight before him.

"Darling! Do you realize how beautiful you look?"

Olivia shook her head smilingly. "Of course I do! But here, let me help you with that." She reached forward and took Mr. Williams' tie from him. He was still gawking at her appearance.

"If Rebecca looks as nice as you do, I don't know what we shall have to do in the face of it! In fact, I hope everybody is able to take their eyes off of you for a moment and be able to even look at Rebecca."

Scornfully, she replied, "Don't be silly, Uncle. I'm just the decoration; Rebecca is the bell of the ball. And now that that's fixed," she said, finishing with the tie, "you look quite dashing yourself. I think you'll do."

"Thank you dear. Now, shall we get to the church on time?" He offered his arm to Olivia chivalrously, who took it without any hesitation.

"Of course!" They walked outside to the waiting car, and stepped inside to be taken to the church.

It was a magical, wonderful wedding that Olivia would never forget. The aisles of the Gothic church were decorated with white satin ribbon and calla lilies, the bells rang most joyfully, and Rebecca was a dream in white satin and silk. She refrained from using the current style of wedding dresses, in which the gowns were covered in beads and embroidery. The dress was simple, elegant, and just right for Rebecca's delicate beauty. Olivia had walked down the aisle just in front of her new aunt, and the entire audience had gasped at the sight of them together. Olivia knew that she would never forget the look on her guardian's face when he saw Rebecca walking towards him-it was a look of greatest joy, anticipation, and hope. As they said their wedding vows, Olivia wished and hoped that their lives together would always be happy and that they would always be given their needs and desires.

When the bride and groom had kissed, they both reached out and pulled Olivia into their embrace. And there it was; it was their first hug as a real and united family. There wasn't a dry eye in the house when everyone saw the rapture that was on Uncle Peter's face, the joy in Rebecca's, and the hope and pleasure in Olivia's. They walked back up the aisle together, holding hands and laughing. Olivia left them at the entrance to the church, though, that they might ride by themselves back to Uncle Peter's house and have some alone time. She rode back to her home with one of her guardian's friends.

The reception, held in the crisp, clear summer afternoon, was bright and sparkling. A small orchestra played and people waltzed and ate delicate cookies and drank punch. Olivia eventually got to waltz with her uncle, and he smiled down at her. "So, darling-what do you think of my kind of magic?"

Smiling gently up at her guardian, she replied, "But uncle, this is my kind of magic, too. Even Professor Dumbledore would agree-love is the greatest kind of magic of all." He kissed her lightly on the cheek and they whirled away, under the tear-filled eyes of Rebecca.

Just as the music was ending, Mr. Williams leaned down and whispered softly into his ward's ear, "Oh, Livie. It's my greatest desire that you would know this magic someday. Someday, love will be your magic, as it is mine today." She said nothing in return, but she nodded solemnly before they began to applaud the orchestra for its lovely music.

Finally, the last dance came, and Uncle Peter and Aunt Rebecca were finally united. The last dance at weddings only allowed married couples to be on the floor, so Olivia sat down at one of the tables and watched closely. Only a few couples were dancing to the carefree waltz; everyone else was getting one last cup of punch and talking softly amongst themselves.

Suddenly, a flash of light came from one of the far corners of the yard, and a young couple that had been sitting at the table nearest the light went flying forward. Pandemonium erupted as the sound followed the light, a booming sound that meant only one thing: an explosion. Not even taking the time to wonder why a bomb had gone off at her guardian's wedding, Olivia began to reach into her vanity big to retrieve her Assistball when screams reached her ear. Olivia could hear her guardian calling her name, but she could see that people were hurt-even though she didn't have her wand, she probably had the most medical training of anyone there. She ran towards the victims.

When she neared the corner of the yard, she found that the young woman's head had been sliced by a bit of rock, and the young man was groaning, bending over an obviously broken arm. People were gathered around them, moaning and crying. Somebody had to take control of the situation, and Olivia did just that.

"Back!" she cried in ringing tones. "Get back-let me see them!" Surprisingly, the older people obeyed her authoritative voice and backed away. "Bring me some napkins, and grab a tablecloth while you're at it! Somebody call the police!" People rushed away to do Olivia's building while she told the young woman to lie down so that the blood flow would slow. Olivia recognized the hurt woman as distant cousin of Rebecca's by the name of Prudence Hopkins. Prudence's eyes were wide with shock as she looked at the blood on her hand.

"Head wounds always bleed a lot, Prudence. Don't worry," Olivia said as she examined the cut, "it's long but it's not deep. Some stitches and a bandage and you'll be fine." Somebody thrust the napkins into Olivia's hand, and she pressed them onto Prudence's wound. "Here, somebody hold this tightly against her head, it'll stop the bleeding." As she moved towards the young man, she asked, "Has anyone called the police?"

"I did," huffed Mrs. Fidgetworth, coming up behind them. "The police and an ambulance are on their way, Olivia. What can I do to help?"

Olivia didn't answer-she was too busy trying to get the young man lie still. "Austin, you're going to hurt your arm worse if you don't be quiet," she said sternly. "I need to wrap this up a bit, or you're going to jar the bones. It's going to hurt. I need two strong men here!" she cried out.

Immediately, a co-worker of Uncle Peter's and Rebecca's cousin, Geoffrey, stepped forward. "What do you need?" asked Geoffrey.

"Hold him down! I need to wrap his arm, and he isn't going to like it. If he moves too much, though, he might make the bones come through the skin, and then it'll really be bad. He could lose his arm."

"Are you sure you're qualified to do that, Miss Price?" Olivia heard an older woman ask. The young witch cast the simpering fool a withering look and didn't dignify it with an answer.

Mrs. Fidgetworth did, however. "Hold your tongue! Do you see anybody else who knows what they're doing? Olivia's gotten medical training at her school, and that ought to be good enough for the moment."

There were too many people standing around Olivia, and she could never stand people breathing down her neck. "For goodness' sake, give me some room! Everybody back away; besides, we don't know if there's another bomb or not."

Everybody quickly did as they were told and eventually Olivia managed to wrap Austin's arm securely. When she had finished, she leaned back on her heels, feeling exhausted. Her hair was slipping from its French twist, and she was sweating from the effort of holding Austin still while working over his arm. A moment later, the sounds of sirens reached their ears, and a constable car and a small ambulance pulled into the cottage lane.

In the ensuing chaos while Prudence and Austin were packed up and taken away to the hospital, Olivia quietly got up and examined the smoldering remains of a bomb. It had been placed behind a tree close to the wedding festivities. Her keen eye observed every part of it, looking for clues. At first, all of the weapon's parts looked Muggle made, and nothing pointed toward wizard activity; but something kept itching at her. A small feeling kept raising the hair on the back of her neck, begging her to notice something. Finally, she realized that the feeling was magic-magic surround the device. It must have a detonator that uses magic! Olivia thought. But if it was Grindelwauld again, why would he have used a bomb? That wouldn't give him any credit at all-people would say that it was just a Muggle that planted it. It doesn't make any sense.

Olivia could see Uncle Peter and Aunt Rebecca talking seriously with a constable, and most of the other wedding guests had left immediately after Prudence and Austin were taken away. The young witch realized that no Muggles would ever suspect wizard involvement, but the Ministry still needed to be informed, just in case. But she couldn't sue magic; it wasn't a life or death situation. She needed help with this.

Reaching into her vanity bag, Olivia pulled out the small golden ball that she had placed in it earlier. Uncertain as to how it worked, she cupped it in both hands, looked hard at its glossy surface and whispered, "Professor Dumbledore, this is Olivia. Please, sir, I need your help."

She gasped when the gold on the ball rippled, and a face appeared looking up out of it at Olivia. It was Professor Dumbledore, looking supremely worried. "Olivia? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Nodding quickly, she said, "I'm fine, Professor, but something is terribly wrong here. A small bomb just went off at my uncle's wedding reception, and I think there's magic on the detonator."

A grim look came over the teacher's face. "I see. Are there many Muggles about, Olivia?"

"There are a few, though not as many as there were earlier; now it's just my aunt and uncle and a few policemen. There are some trees nearby, though, so you probably could Apparate in, but you'd look rather out of place in wizard's robes."

"Understood. I'll be right there." Olivia was just lowering the golden ball from her face when she heard a faint crack. Looking up, she saw Professor Dumbledore striding towards her through the trees, dressed for once in a plain, Muggle suit. Strangely, he looked much odder in something so mundane and colorless than he did in his sweeping wizard's robes. His auburn beard waved most amusingly.

"Oh, sir, I'm so sorry to disturb you, but I didn't know who else to call!"

He came striding forward, looking both confident and cautious. "You did the right thing, Miss Price, so don't worry about it. You are always free to call on me." They began to walk back towards the house, Olivia struggling through the underbrush in her rich satin dress. She didn't even notice the blood that stained its front. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, seeing the blood.

She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, but two of the wedding guests were injured. It wasn't that bad; I could have fixed them up immediately with my wand, but I knew I couldn't."

"Is that where the blood came from, then? You were helping the victims?" His blue eyes looked deep into her emerald ones.

"Yes, sir. My cousin Prudence had a cut on the head, and her husband had a broken arm. They were sitting at the table nearest the explosion."

Thankfully, the constables were still busy asking questions, so Professor Dumbledore discreetly drew his wand and gave small waves with it, muttering to himself in words that Olivia couldn't understand. After a moment, the teacher opened his eyes and said softly, "You were right, Olivia. Magic is heavy on that detonator-I'd guess that the attacker used his wand to set it off. There's nothing else I can discover, though. Oh Merlin, here comes trouble," he said under his breath, as the constables walked forward looking serious.

"Back away, you two, we need to package this up and take it to the station as evidence. Perhaps there will be fingerprints on this, and that way we can discover the attacker. You haven't touched it, I hope?"

To Olivia's complete surprise, Professor Dumbledore smiled broadly and said, "Oh, is taking it away really necessary, Constable? Surely you've seen everything you need to." His pupil was just looking up at her teacher in confusion when she saw him give the slightest flick of his wand. A sleepy sort of breeze went winging past her, reeking of magic.

The police officers' eyes slid in and out of focus for just a moment, before one turned to the others and said jovially, "Well, I think we've seen all we need to, haven't we, lads? No use in littering up headquarters with this wreck."

"Right you are, John." The other constables smiled happily at one another before John bowed to Professor Dumbledore and Olivia and said, "Thank you, sir and miss. We'll be getting out of your way now. Have a good afternoon and congratulations on your wedding!" Turning as one, the group of officers left quietly, although Olivia heard them break out in song when they reached the end of the driveway.

Casting suspicious eyes up at Dumbledore, Olivia asked, "Did you just do what I think you just did?"

Humming a little to himself as he put his wand back into his suit pocket, Dumbledore raised innocent eyebrows at her. "Perform a Memory Charm? Of course! The Ministry will need this as evidence-we may be able to discover who did it. The poor fellows will likely be a little confused the rest of the day, though."

Peter and Rebecca came running up to Olivia and Dumbledore. "Darling!" cried Rebecca, throwing her arms around her new niece.

Mr. Williams stepped forward and shook hands with Dumbledore. "Hello, Professor. How do you always manage to be around when we need you?"

Smiling broadly, the teacher pointed at Olivia. "Miss Price has an artifact that I gave her after the incident last Christmas. It is an Assistball, and with it she can call for anyone that she needs to whenever she requires help. The device uses any reflective surface to project her image on it and thus deliver her message. I was sitting in my office when a silver plate in front of me suddenly began to speak. I picked it up, and there I beheld Olivia's face. Naturally I was concerned, thinking that she had been kidnapped or that your home was under attack. However, she soon informed me of the situation and I came right away."

Rebecca looked puzzled. "But why are you here, sir? This is a bomb; it shouldn't have anything to do with magic…should it?"

"My dear lady, when Olivia was examining the device, she discovered that its detonator felt of magic. That was when she called for my aid. I can confirm her findings; we believe that a wizard planted this bomb and set it off with his wand, though for what ends I do not know. "

The new bride looked suspiciously around her. "Is whoever it was gone now?"

"I have already searched the area, looking for any other traces of magic. The perpetrator is gone, and everything is quiet. Whatever it was that happened here, I believe to be over. Everything should be safe now."

Rebecca nervously wrung her hands. "How can we leave for our honeymoon now, Peter? We certainly cannot leave Olivia here alone!"

Olivia wasn't going to take this. "Oh, honestly, Aunt Rebecca! I may be young, but I'm not useless. I don't want your wedding trip to be ruined, especially now that your reception has been. Besides, I'll be staying with the Potters-I'll be perfectly safe."

"Let the adults discuss it, dear. Now you'd better run along and rinse out that dress before the blood sets in it."

She couldn't be sure, but Olivia thought she saw a dark look pass swiftly over Professor Dumbledore's face. In a slightly cold voice he said, "Allow me to take care of that." Without waiting for permission, he pointed his wand at Olivia's dress, which was instantly cleaned of the blood and dirt that had marred its satiny sheen.

Suddenly understanding a bit of her teacher's annoyance, Olivia answered her aunt. "I'm sorry, Aunt Rebecca, but I don't want the adults discussing things that involve me without having a word to say about it." Uncle Peter looked shocked at this-it was totally out of Olivia's character to show defiance. "Professor Dumbledore thinks it's safe for you two to leave me here, and I trust his judgment. Please, I feel guilty enough as it is. I'm sure that this bomb has something to do with me, and it would never have happened if I hadn't been here. Don't place the burden of ruining your honeymoon on me as well."

"That was never my thought, Olivia, and we don't blame you at all. It's just that…"

"You love me, and you want me to be safe. I understand that. But I'm never going to learn how to take care of myself if you keep trying to shelter me. I handled things well today, didn't I?"

Peter decided it was time to enter the argument. "Yes, you did, Olivia. Professor," he said, turning to Dumbledore, "I have to say that I'm very pleased with her training. She went straight to the victims and gave them first rate medical care. The attendants in the ambulance said that she had already done half their work for them. You should be proud." Turning back to Rebecca, he said, "Becky, I know that you're just worried. But Olivia's right. We can trust her to take care of herself, and I know that the Potters will keep an eye on her. Why don't you go into the house and get ready to go? I'll see Dumbledore off."

Looking resigned, Rebecca nodded and walked towards the house. Olivia looked anxiously up at her guardian. "I wasn't too disrespectful, was I, Uncle?"

He looked solemnly down at her. "Perhaps, Olivia, but I think that it was the right thing to do. You're right-you're almost thirteen years old and its time that we stopped coddling you too much. Perhaps it was wise for you to nip that in the bud with Rebecca. However, that is all the disrespect I will allow. Do you understand?" Olivia nodded, and they embraced. "Now, then, why don't you go into the house and make sure you're packed for your visit with the Potters?" Without a word of dissent, she did just that.

"I'm sorry that you had to be involved in a family scene, Professor. But as awkward as I'm sure that was for you, it was necessary."

To Peter's surprise, he saw that Dumbledore had a far-off look on his face, as if he was thinking about something very deeply. He vaguely said, "She's growing up, isn't she, Williams? Don't you remember how it was? That scared little girl sitting on the coach in your living room, unable to speak and unable to show her feelings on anything?"

Mr. Williams nodded. "Yes, I remember it very well. I never would have expected it of her to speak out so firmly. She has so much confidence now, but it isn't pride. If she continues at your school as she has begun, I have no fears for her." He sighed. "She really did handle herself quite well today. She acted like a woman, not a little girl."

Dumbledore nodded. "And this is only the beginning. Who knows where the next year will take her?" He shook Mr. Williams hand, before saying, "Some Ministry officials will be coming after nightfall to collect all of this as evidence, and I'm fairly certain that they will be assigning some extra protection to Olivia for the duration of the summer. Do not fear for her safety-she will be cared for." Peter nodded, and then Dumbledore stepped away, and Disapparated with a loud cracking noise.