Chapter 4: A Wedding and a Funeral
Disclaimer: All rights to the world of Harry Potter go to J.K. Rowling, etc., etc. There are also references to other books, fanfics, TV shows, and/or movies in this story. All are cited at the end of the chapter.
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update this time. See, I had it all written a couple weeks ago, but not typed up, and then I realized that I hadn't read my required summer reading and school started in three days. Then once school started, I had homework and stuff. But now I'm back, from outer space, and here's Chapter 4.
He stands in a clearing once again, but it is a different clearing. This one is surrounded by mountains rather than forest, and this time, he is alone. Fenrir Greyback. He glances around impatiently, as if waiting for someone to arrive. Then out of the scrubby underbrush appears a creature she has seen once before. If only she could remember where. He is flanked by a werewolf on each side. His eyes dart from one to the other warily, but he doesn't seem scared until he looks at the werewolf standing before him. Then all the blood drains out of his already bloodless face.
"Ah, Sanguini, at last you've arrived. And tell me, how do you enjoy…civilization?" There is an undercurrent of derision in Greyback's voice as he observes the vampire at his feet.
"I-I don't know why I have been brought here," Sanguini says, working to conceal the quake in his voice.
"Oh, how silly of me," Greyback replies. "I hear you have some information for me."
"Information?"
"Yes, about a certain little blond sweetie by the name of Luna Lovegood?"
Immediately, Sanguini's face clears. "She knows, sir. She knows about the Rotfang Conspiracy."
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The day of Dumbledore's funeral dawned clear and bright, and Luna didn't know what to wear. She had never been to a funeral before in her life, there having been nothing left of her mother to bury. She knew black was traditional, but the only black she owned was her school robes, and they didn't seem formal enough. Finally she decided on her school robes with her favorite butterbeer-cork necklace. She still wasn't sure it was appropriate, but she felt that Dumbledore would understand.
Luna ran into Neville going down the front steps. He was still limping a little because of the wound he'd gotten during the battle. She walked with him down to the chairs set up on the lawn. She noticed Harry looking their way and smiled at him. He gave a weak attempt at a grin before turning away back to Ginny, who was holding his hand.
Luna didn't cry during the ceremony. She couldn't remember ever crying. She spotted Ronald holding Hermione in his arms though, and had to turn away, a hard knot in her throat. Was it wrong, she wondered, to be sad over a boy at the funeral of the greatest wizard in the world? In the end, she decided that, like her necklace, this was something Dumbledore would understand.
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After the funeral, Ginny found Luna beside the lake, leaning over to try to get a glance at the merpeople.
"Hello, Luna," she said.
"Oh, hello Ginny," Luna replied, not taking her eyes of the mermaid floating languidly beneath the surface.
"Listen, Luna, what are you doing this summer?"
"Oh, nothing really. The Quibbler didn't do as well this year as last you know. I suspect it's because Harry didn't do any interviews this year."
Even the mention of Harry's name sent a pang through Ginny. She knew they had made the right decision in breaking up, knew that Harry had things he needed to get on with, saving the world and so on, but that didn't make it any easier.
"So Daddy and I probably won't be going on any excursions this summer," Luna finished, seeming quite oblivious to Ginny's distress.
"How would you like to come to my brother's wedding then?" Ginny asked. After all, Luna was her friend, and Ginny didn't want her to retreat into herself as she had always seemed to do before the D.A. Either that or discover any imaginary animals in Sweden as she had over the last summer holidays.
"Oh, that's right, Bill's getting married. To that Fleur Delacour. I remember her from our third year. I'm not sure I liked her very much.
Ginny felt herself begin to smile. "You should fit right in with the rest of us then. Come round to my place on the 15th. The wedding's on the 16th, but you can get there before the crowds and settle in. "
"Alright," Luna replied. "I've never been invited to a wedding before."
Ginny relayed her address and direction to Luna and walked off feeling good that Luna would get out at least one time this summer.
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Hermione was having trouble concentrating on the wedding preparations. She knew Harry and Ron were too. And how could they not, when a mere 48 hours from now would find them far away from the Burrow, en route to Godric's Hollow and the search for the Horcruxes? They all kept darting glances at one another, Ginny included. It was hard to keep one's mind on the task at hand (hanging gold and lavender bows all around the front parlor) when something of this magnitude was hanging over their heads. A knock sounded at the door.
"I'll get it!" Ron yelled, though there really wasn't any need for yelling. Hermione knew he was only doing it to relieve his own tension though, so she didn't reprimand him for it.
In the middle of twining a bow garland around the banister, she looked up to see Ron ushering Luna Lovegood into the parlor, her broomstick in his hand.
"I'll just put this in the shed, shall I?" he asked, waving it about and almost knocking over a vase rather precariously perched on top of a cabinet.
"Oh, Luna, good, you're here," Ginny exclaimed. "I'll show you to my room."
"I'll come too," Hermione volunteered, eager to leave off garland-making. "I'm bunking with Ginny also."
"We're a bit cramped, what with all the relatives come to stay, not to mention the French royalty." Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Ah," was all Luna said, gazing around with her protuberant eyes. Hermione shook her head fondly as she began to follow the two younger girls up the staircase.
"Erm, Hermione, could a have a word?" Ron inquired from below her, sounding nervous.
"Of course, Ron; what is it?" Hermione turned and descended the stairs.
"Er, alone?"
Harry grinned, shaking his head, but he plucked Luna's broomstick from Ron's hands and went out the door, presumably to deposit it in the broom shed in the garden.
Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and sat on the bottom step with a bit of trepidation. Surely he would not choose now to confess that he liked her. She had been expecting it for a while now. Everyone had, to judge by Harry's knowing grins and Mrs. Weasley's hints.
But the thing of it was, Hermione didn't like Ron. Oh, she liked him; he was her best friend, and certainly there'd been periods when she'd thought she liked him. But after long contemplation and many late-night conversations with Ginny, she'd concluded that there was nothing she felt for Ron besides deep warmth and affection of the most friendly, platonic kind.
"Uh, earth to Hermione?" Ron sat beside her on the step.
"Oh, sorry, Ron! I was just…thinking."
"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately…about us."
Oh no, here it comes! "About us?" Hermione repeated.
"Hermione, you know I like you. I've always liked you." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hands around her knees. She didn't want to see his face when she told him.
"Oh, Ron, I-"
"Wait." He touched her hand. Her eyes snapped open. "I'm not finished."
"What?"
"Just let me finish. As I said, I've always liked you. And for a long time I thought there was no other girl for me. But lately I've been having some doubts about that."
"Doubts?" She was beginning to feel like a parrot, just repeating whatever he said.
"Don't get me wrong. You're still my best friend, aside from Harry, but-"
"But you don't like me like that?" Hope was blossoming in Hermione's chest. Maybe she wouldn't have to break his heart after all!
"No. Sorry." Ron looked away.
Hermione's face split into a wide smile. "Me neither!" she nearly shouted.
"I-what?"
"I don't like you either!" She rushed to explain. "I mean, I feel like it's just that people expect us to like each other, so we think that we do, and-"
"And my mum's got it all worked out that I'll marry you and Ginny'll marry Harry and we'll all have Christmas together."
"Exactly!" said Hermione, laughing with relief.
Ron pulled her into a hug. "I feel exactly the same way." She could sense his hesitation though.
"What is it, Ron?"
"D'you think we should, you know, test it?"
"Test it? Like, make absolutely certain we don't have any latent feelings for each other bottled up inside?" It sort of made sense. "How would we do that?"
"Um." He blushed a deep scarlet. "We could…erm…kiss."
"I suppose that would work." Hermione leaned forward. Ron did the same, and she felt his warm mouth brush her own. They both pulled away rather quickly.
It was a nice kiss, Hermione supposed, but there was no spark, and she almost unconsciously wiped at her mouth with her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron doing the same thing.
"Hey, you wiped off my kiss," she said.
"You wiped off my kiss."
"We gross each other out!" Hermione couldn't remember ever being more relieved.
"We can't like each other, then." Ron grinned hugely.
"Then it's settled." Hermione gave Ron a sisterly kiss on the cheek and then headed upstairs to see what Ginny and Luna were up to.
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Ginny was surveying Luna's dress robes, which were spread out on the bed. Luna had never been much concerned with how she looked. She had brought the sole set of dress robes she owned, the same she'd worn to Slughorn's party with Harry.
"You can't wear these," Ginny said now.
"Why not?" asked Luna, rather hurt. She thought them quite pretty, with their silver spangles and stars.
Some of her hurt must have crept into her tone, or perhaps onto her face, because Ginny smiled warmly. "They're a winter weight," she explained. "And dress robes aren't traditionally worn to weddings anyway."
"Oh, yes, I remember Professor Binns mentioning that once. Something about there being a lack of wizard ministers in the early days, and not wanting to distress the Muggle ones with wizarding dress."
"You listen to Professor Binns?" asked Hermione, appearing in the doorway. "And here I thought I was the only one," she added in a tone of mock surprise, entering the room with a spring in her step.
"Hey, Hermione," Ginny greeted her, before diving into her closet.
"Only sometimes," Luna told Hermione. "What is Ginny doing in there?"
"I'm finding you a dress," came Ginny's voice from the depths of the closet. "She's about my size, wouldn't you say, Hermione?"
Luna stood still while Hermione appraised her. "Yes, I'd say so."
"Good," Ginny said as she emerged, a wad of frothy green silk in her arms. "Mum got this for me, but since I'm a bridesmaid," She made a face. "I have to wear what Fleur chose."
"Well, at least Fleur has good taste," Hermione said consideringly. Ginny shot her a look that clearly said she'd been betrayed. "If it were me, I probably would have made you wear the pink."
Ginny shuddered, then shook out the dress in her hands and laid it on the bed over Luna's robes. It was quite pretty, sleeveless and the color of sea foam, with a full skirt and delicate edging around the collar.
"Try it on," Hermione urged, and Luna picked it up and held it against her chest. "I don't know…"
"We'll try ours on too, won't we Gin?" Hermione added.
"Well, alright."
Within five minutes, all three girls were resplendent, Luna in green, Ginny in pale gold, and Hermione in deep sapphire.
Luna examined herself in Ginny's full length mirror. "I've never felt pretty before," she whispered.
"Luna, you're beautiful," said Ginny, coming to her side and putting her arm around her. Hermione stepped up to Luna's other side.
"We all are," Luna said, and it was the truth.
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Ron adjusted his bow tie nervously. As a groomsman, he had to walk down the aisle, and he wanted to look his best. Maybe if he looked good enough, no one would notice if he tripped, as he had done during the rehearsal the night before. But he knew that was nonsense. Please let me not make a fool of myself, especially in front of Luna, he prayed.
Luna. Now that things were settled quite to his satisfaction between himself and Hermione, he felt free to think of her. His heart had banged against his ribcage like a battering ram when she'd appeared at the door yesterday. He didn't really know what it was he felt for her, he only knew that he wanted to talk to her…and soon.
"Ron, come on," Charlie called from the landing below. "The wedding's about to start!"
Ron hurried down the stairs.
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The wedding turned out lovely. Ron made it down the aisle without a misstep, although he earned a glare from Gabrielle, whom he was escorting (Charlie was leading Ginny), for gripping her arm too tightly. Fred and George, who had opted not to be in the wedding itself, snickered from the front row where they sat next to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who was wiping her eyes, and Harry.
Fleur looked divine. Ron would have thought that, with her pale skin and hair, white would wash her out, but it only succeeded in giving her skin a golden glow. Bill was grinning, making the fragile network of scarring on his face bunch in some places and stretch in others, but still, he had never looked more handsome.
There was nothing at all to make the beam budge from Mrs. Weasley's face.
After the ceremony, Ron looked for Luna, only to find her ensconced in a gazebo with Professor Lupin, deep in conversation. Undaunted, he turned away. She would be staying for several days, after all. He would have plenty of time to talk to her later. How very wrong he was.
References:
"Four Weddings and a Funeral" is um, a movie. That I haven't seen, but that's still where the title came from.
"Little blonde sweetie" is one way they refer to Dorinda in User Unfriendly, by Vivian Vande Velde.
"I'll marry you and Ginny'll marry Harry and we'll all have Christmas together." From Draco Veritas, by Cassandra Claire.
The whole kiss test, wiping off and discussion of grossing each other out comes from Naturally Sadie. Sigh. Not only do I quote Disney Channel shows, but I have to quote quite possibly the most pathetic one.
The description of Bill's fragile network of scars was influenced by the description of Shepset's scars in Escape from Egypt, by Sonia Levitin.
A/N: Wow, quite a few references in this chapter. I really don't have an original idea to call my own, do I? Don't answer that. But do review. Thanks for all the lovely reviews last time, by the way. Let's see if we can't get seven more before I post Chapter 5, shall we?
