A smattering of cheers and applause went through the crowd as Harry entered the tent from a hidden side door, accompanied by a very old, tufty haired wizard whom Dudley assumed was the marriage officiant. The two of them took their places underneath an ornate, golden archway that matched the frames on the tent's walls and twinkled as if stars were embedded in its carvings. Harry, Dudley noticed, was beaming, but in a forced sort of way. His fidgeting fingers and the way he kept clenching his fists together communicated his true emotion: nervousness.

Dudley turned his attention to the back of the tent, where a middle-aged woman and four men that had to be her sons had begun to walk down the aisle. The hair of all four men was like that of their mother, a bright, blazing reddish-orange. The oldest wore it long. His face was scarred heavily on one side, but the way he carried himself communicated to all present that this disfigurement didn't hurt his self-confidence in the slightest. Another of the men, tall like the eldest, wore horn-rimmed glasses and walked in a very pompous way. With them was the man whom had accosted Dudley by the memorial, whom Dudley now noticed had only one ear, and one other who was shorter and stockier than his brothers. The family progressed down the aisle, beaming and waving at various friends in the crowd. Dudley tapped Dedalus on the shoulder.

"Sorry, Mr. Diggle," he said, as quietly as he could. "But who are they?"

Dedalus gasped.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Dursley, I must have forgotten!" The man pulled an old looking bit of parchment from deep within his purple robes. "Miss Granger instructed me to give this directly to you, for your aid and understanding."

Before Dudley could ask who Miss Granger was, cursive writing began to spread across the paper he had just taken from Dedalus' hand. It said, 'The Weasley Family: Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George.' Underneath each name was a small drawing depicting each person. Although the scratchy, stick figure-like graphics resembled children's doodles, Dudley was clearly able to tell which name corresponded with which member of the family.

Suddenly the pictures and text disappeared. Dudley glanced back at the aisle and realized that the Weasleys had sat down. Next, a blonde toddler, no more than four years old, began to make her way down the aisle. At the sight of her, Dudley was instantly reminded of fairy stories that he heard as a boy. The girl seemed to glide rather than walk; she also emitted a sort of glow about her as she gracefully tossed red rose petals and gold glitter onto the previously unadorned white canvas that stretched from the entrance of the tent to the archway where Harry stood. Dudley looked at the page. 'Victoire Weasley, niece of Ginny,' it read.

The next person down the aisle was a young boy. He was about five years old and looked to be on the verge of giggling. In his outstretched palms he held a golden box which Dudley assumed to be carrying the rings. He handed the box to Harry, who patted him on the head fondly before kneeling to give him a hug. As the boy walked to his seat, he looked at Victoire and squeezed his eyes shut. Dudley was astonished as, just like the short-haired woman in the picture outside, the boy's hair turned from brown to a shocking neon purple. Both children giggled, and one of Ginny's brothers, sitting nearby, had to turn to quiet them. This time, the paper read 'Teddy Lupin, Godson of Harry.'

A thirty-something, dark skinned girl wearing a mid-length golden dress now emerged in the tent flap. From the widened eyes and frantic whispers of his neighbors, Dudley surmised that the girl was very well-known among the wizarding community.

"My word! But isn't that Gwenog Jones?!"

The gray-haired witch sitting to the right of him had whispered this in his ear. He glanced down at the paper. Sure enough, that was the name of the woman about to walk down the aisle. Why she had elicited this excited reaction from the crowd was still a mystery to him, however. He turned to the witch again, who, unlike Dedalus, didn't seem as fully concentrated on the aisle.

"Is this, er, Gwenog quite famous with your lot?"

"My lot?!" She responded indignantly. "If by 'my lot' you mean Quidditch fans, then yes she is, I'll have you know. She's only the best player the Holyhead Harpies has ever seen! With Ginny signing on as Chaser this year, the Montrose Magpies will have no chance at winning the League Cup. Really, I'd trouble you to show me a Wizard Chess player who is accomplished as either Gwenog or Ginny! 'My lot!' Really!"

The witch said this all in a very accusatory tone of voice, and Dudley wisely chose not to press the matter further, realizing that she thought him to have said something very offensive. He did gather from this exchange, however, that Ginny was an accomplished athlete, and the woman at the beginning of the rose-lined path was a teammate of hers. Also worth nothing, he realized with surprise, was that the woman next to him had assumed that he was a wizard.

Gwenog had begun walking down the aisle when she stopped and turned back toward the tent flap, waiting, Dudley presumed, for the groomsman who would be accompanying her. The holdup seemed to be that he, whoever he was, wasn't able to get through the entrance and into the tent. The man, who seemed to be quite tall, had to curl himself almost into a ball in order to pass underneath the low-hanging fold.

When the man straightened up, Dudley's hand immediately jumped to his lower back to assure himself that no curly appendage had sprung from there. He didn't need to consult the parchment in his hand to know who this ginormous, hairy-faced man was. It was the Keeper of the Keys, the haunter of Dudley's nightmares. However, in contrast to the frightening, intimidating image that Dudley had always associated with him, tears were streaming down his face. Dudley watched in amazement as Gwenog Jones handed a handkerchief to the great old brute, took his hand, and led him down the aisle. The colossal man enveloped Harry in what looked to be a bone-crushing hug. Harry patted the man's elbow and smiled at him thankfully as the man went to stand a few feet behind him.

The next couple made their way down the aisle, a brown-haired, slightly pudgy man and an ethereal blonde woman. Dudley glanced back down at the parchment, which now showed the names and cartoons of 'Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.' The woman wore a wide yellow sash that clashed terribly with her gold bridesmaid's dress and large earrings that were shaped like suns. Her proclivity for energetic colors seemed to have transmitted to her companion as well. Unlike the other males who had walked down the aisle, his bow tie was yellow rather than black. The uncomfortable look on his face told Dudley that the man, Neville, had most likely agreed to this alteration against his better judgment. Neville clapped Harry on the back and shook his hand, while Luna bestowed upon him a beautiful smile and a wink before taking her position in front of Gwenog.

Neville left only a small amount of space between himself and Harry, signaling to Dudley that only one more couple would make their way down the aisle before the bride. Looking again at the pictures which decorated the walls, Dudley thought he had a pretty good idea who these last two people would be. Sure enough, Ron and the brunette girl were now taking their places at the entrance to the tent. Dudley looked down at the paper once more.

So this girl walking down the aisle on Ron's arm was Miss Granger, Hermione Granger, in fact, the creator of this guide which had been so helpful! Dudley felt that he truly owed her a great thanks for this lifesaving little piece of parchment. Of course, that would have to wait until later. And Ron was another Weasley, Ginny's brother, which explained his comment earlier about Dudley being a guest of his family. Dudley shook his head, amazed at his own failure to realize that all these similarly-hued gingers were related to on another. Ron and Hermione smiled hugely at Harry as they made their way towards him, Hermione's eyes sparkling with tears. At the sight of them and their unwavering grins, Harry's plastered smile transformed into something much more natural. They both embraced him before taking their respective places as Best Man and Maid of Honor.

Now was the time for the main event, and Dudley watched Harry's smile become etched into his face once more. Soon, however, Harry's eyebrows lifted and a dream-like look came into his eyes. Dudley knew, without even turning around, that Ginny had entered the tent.

Her dress was sleeveless with a bodice embroidered with what seemed to be the finest and most vibrant golden thread ever manufactured. The stitching was close together and covered the entirety of the dress' top, yet slightly different golden hues showed that the embroidery was actually hundreds of tiny stars, each touching the next, forming a sort of celestial daisy chain. From the bodice flowed a simple white skirt made of an airy material that stopped just before the ground. Pieces of her red hair were intricately braided around the crown of her head, underneath an ancient-looking tiara, while other curls fell loose around her shoulders. Her smile was even more brilliantly blinding than the last time Dudley had saw her, and unlike Harry, she projected perfect confidence and contentment.

Her father, with whom she had walked with towards the archway, beamed through his tears. Hugging first Harry, then Ginny, he took each of their hands and placed them one on top of the other. The hands clasped together immediately.

Harry looked at their joined hands in wonderment, and Dudley knew that at that moment Harry wasn't thinking about all of the trouble he had faced in his short life or even his many loved ones who hadn't lived to see this happy day. He seemed to be looking at Ginny's hand, but in reality, he was looking into the future. He was seeing all of the promises and possibilities that awaited them, the new adventures that he couldn't wait to begin. The officiant cleared his throat, and Harry looked up, his face now alight with the excitement of a man truly in love.