Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I apologize for the long wait. I had school to contend with. Also, it seems that I got so far ahead of myself in writing this story that I just couldn't bring myself to go back and format the chapters for posting. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but it just seemed like the right place to cut off. A reviewer of chapter one raised the point that an owl cannot look disappointed, so I thought I would address this. I have found that when people have pets for a while, they tend to assign human characteristics and emotions to them. The way I wrote the scene, I meant to imply that Harry was interpreting Hedwig's expression as being a look of disappointment. Sorry for any confusion this may have caused. Enjoy.

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Chapter 4: The Wedding

Three games later, Ron shook his head sadly as Harry's king threw his crown at the feet of Ron's knight. "This is just pathetic."

"I checked your king," Harry said indignantly, "...once."

"Here, I want you to borrow that set," Ron said as he started gathering up his pieces. "Start playing against yourself. Try to build up some strategy."

"I don't know if I should be grateful or insulted," Harry said, but he gathered up the pieces anyway, sticking them in his pocket. Maybe he would practice. It would be nice to be able to beat Ron for once.

A loud hoot made Harry jump and look over towards the open window. Hedwig was sitting on a branch just outside, fixing Harry with a stare.

"Yeah," Ron said, also looking up, "we've been letting the owls stay outside. Keeps them happy and cuts down the cost of owl treats. I'm just glad Pig isn't biting me every time I put a letter on him anymore."

Harry smiled as Hedwig tucked her head under her wing to go to sleep. She did look happier.

The door opened at that moment, and Ginny peeked in. "Mum says get dressed," she said. "Be downstairs in fifteen minutes."

When she closed the door, Ron glanced out the window and rolled his eyes. "Wedding doesn't start for two hours," he muttered. "Why do we have to get dressed now?"

"Do you want to be the one to ask your mum that?" Harry asked.

"Good point."

They quickly put on their dress robes. Harry's sleeves were a bit too long, but it wasn't noticeable. He had to give Fleur credit; she had guessed the measurements pretty well. He spent a couple minutes furiously trying to flatten his hair, but to no avail. Finally, he gave up, and headed downstairs with Ron.

Mrs. Weasley met them at the bottom of the stairs, stopping them so she could straighten Ron's robes and also try to flatten Harry's hair. "Go on," she said, motioning them toward the door. "The bridesmaids will seat you."

Harry glanced at Ron, but he just shrugged and went to the door.

Outside, the sun was just starting to set. Several dozen orbs of light hovered in the air all around the yard, illuminating it in a soft light. The chairs were almost full now, some people talking quietly while others just looked around. The bridesmaids were seating the men while Bill, Charlie, and the twins were seating the women.

Gabrielle, who had just led an old man to one of the seats in the back, came over and offered an arm to Ron. As she led him away, Ginny approached, smiling.

"You look good," she said, offering Harry her arm.

"You too," Harry said as they started down the aisle.

She laughed under her breath. "Don't joke."

"I'm not joking," he said. "You look beautiful."

Ginny stopped in her tracks, her eyes locking with his. She opened her mouth, but closed it quickly and looked away. "You're sitting here," she said. "We'll talk after the wedding." She hurried off as fast as she could on heels.

Harry looked after her for a moment, then looked around at his seat in confusion. This couldn't be right. She was putting him in the second row, right next to Ron. He shouldn't be sitting up here with Bill's brothers; he should be in the back with the non-family members.

"Well, don't stand there gaping, dear," Mrs. Weasley appeared at Harry's side, being escorted by Bill. "Sit down."

"But..." Harry trailed off as Mrs. Weasley took her seat in the front row. He numbly moved over to sit next to Ron. A few moments later, a red-headed boy he didn't recognize sat next to him.

"Hi Thomas," Ron said. "Harry, this is my cousin."

"You're Harry Potter, then?" the boy said, reaching out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

After Harry shook his hand, Thomas and Ron a heated discussion about whether the Chuddly Cannons had a chance at the next World Cup, and Harry started to feel a bit more relaxed. As he glanced around, he saw Hermione being led down the aisle by Charlie. She looked rather stunning herself in blue-violet dress robes and with her hair pulled into a tight bun.

Harry sent her a questioning look, and she shook her head slightly. His stomach did a small flip. Malfoy should have woken up by now. What if the Belladonna was too strong and had poisoned him?

"Whoa," Ron said under his breath, starting Harry out of his thoughts. He also had turned around to look at Hermione.

Harry forced a smile and turned back around, leaning back in his chair. By now, everyone had been seated and the ceremony had begun.

The wedding seemed to last an eternity. The minister and Bill took their places as the end of the aisle first. Then, the groomsmen and bridesmaids walked down the aisle in pairs, moving to stand on either side of the arch. The ring bearer and flower girl came next: two young blond children who looked so similar they could have been twins.

By the time Fleur and her father appeared in the doorway and began to walk down the aisle, Harry was already fidgeting in his seat. He looked back at Hermione again. She seemed just as anxious as he was, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. They exchanged a look before Harry faced forward and tried to pay attention.

When finally the minister told the couple to kiss and the crowd burst into applause, Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Finally," Ron said when people started to get up around them, twisting his back to stretch the muscles. "These chairs are horrible. What say we grab some punch?"

Harry glanced over just in time to see the food appear on the previously empty table on the other side of the yard. "You go on," Harry said. "I think I'm going to turn in early."

"Oh, you're no fun," Ron said, clapping Harry on the back and hurrying off to get in line for the punchbowl. No sooner had Harry stood up and popped his back, however, than he heard a voice behind him.

"At least you had a chair."

Harry turned to find Ginny standing behind him. She was holding her shoes in one hand, standing barefoot.

"Do you want to take a walk?" she continued, looking up at him hopefully.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I can't. I...I'm just too tired. I was actually about to head inside."

"Oh," Ginny said, her disappointment poorly veiled.

"Tomorrow," Harry said, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I promise we'll talk tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said with a small smile. She pulled her hand away and moved off to join the rest of the guests.

Harry spotted Hermione standing alone up by the house and hurried over. "He didn't wake up?" he whispered as they entered the kitchen.

"I didn't get another chance to look in," Hermione said. She was walking at double speed, and Harry had to jog to keep up. "Mrs. Weasley made me try on my robes and by the time she finished with my hair, it was time for the wedding."

"So he's been lying up there for over four hours?"

They had reached the stairs now and Hermione took them two at a time. Everyone was outside, so there was no need to keep up any pretenses about what they were doing. The made it to the second floor and burst into the twins' room. Hermione went to her trunk and threw the lid open.

Harry squinted at the trunk, trying to fight his vision's natural urge to blur. On the one hand, the inside of the trunk was stretched out so that he could see the entirety of Malfoy, but the outside dimensions of the trunk looked exactly the same. The mere effort of trying to make sense of the image sent a lance of pain through his eyes.

"Don't try to focus," Hermione said. She was staring at a spot on the wall above the trunk. "Relax your eyes."

Harry tried to do as she said and, slowly, the pain ebbed and he could see Malfoy. He lay in the bottom of the trunk, stiff as a board, his eyes still closed.

"Damn it," Hermione said, getting up and starting to pace. "Why did I give him that potion? I should've just left it alone."

Harry, however, was still looked at Malfoy, and something clicked in his mind. He got up and moved over to Hermione, grabbing her by the shoulders and speaking in an undertone. "Hermione? Hermione!"

"What?"

"Did it ever occur to you that he might be faking it?"

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"Listen to his breathing," Harry said. "Does he sound asleep to you?"

She paused for a moment. "You're right."

"I have a hunch. Take the body-bind off of him."

Hermione hesitated, but did as Harry asked. Malfoy's body went slack and his head rolled to one side, his mouth opening slightly.

Harry went back to the trunk and kneeled again. "Malfoy," he said, shaking the boy's shoulder, "It's over. You can open your eyes now."

Malfoy's limbs stiffened and his jaw clenched shut again. Harry thought maybe he should try again, but finally, Malfoy's eyes opened into slits and he slowly turned his head to look up. The gaze that met Harry's was filled with such a deep-seated despair that Harry recoiled, turning on Hermione.

Any anger he felt toward her instantly turned to pity, however, when he saw the look of absolute horror on her face. She had meant well. He could not possibly have expected her to see this far ahead.

"What are we going to do with him?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "but we have to get him out of here. It looks like every guest in the house stored their luggage in here. Which means they'll all be heading up when the reception's over."

"Are there any empty rooms?" Harry asked.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Bill's should be. I saw his and Fleur's luggage already packed downstairs, they'll be leaving for their honeymoon after the reception. I doubt anyone will be going back up there."

"That's pretty risky. What if someone does show up?"

"Then I'll think of something. I'm going to go up and check to be sure no one else is staying in that room. You bring him up."

Harry nodded and, when Hermione had left, turned his attention to the trunk. "All right, Malfoy," he said. "Get up."

At first, he thought that maybe Malfoy hadn't heard him. Finally, though, he reached up with a shaky hand, grasping the edge of the trunk and slowly pulling himself up into a sitting position. He didn't seem willing or able to move beyond that.

Harry sighed and reached out, but Malfoy recoiled sharply. "Relax," Harry said. "I'm just helping you stand up." He tried again, grasping Malfoy's arms and pulling him to his feet.

A strong, vile smell hit Harry's nostrils so hard he nearly let go of Malfoy. It occurred to Harry that Malfoy had probably been wearing the same robes for at least a week. That combined with the fact that he had been stuck in that trunk all day produced an odor that nearly knocked Harry off his feet.

"Shower first then," Harry muttered, breathing through his mouth. He made sure Malfoy had his footing before letting go and moving to his own trunk, throwing it open and rummaging through it. He knew he wouldn't find any clothes that fit Malfoy, since the majority of it did not even fit him, but he managed to find some that he thought would work for the time being.

Getting Malfoy into the bathroom presented a challenge. He was starting to regain some of his pride and didn't want Harry to help him across the room. His legs, however, did not seem to be obeying him, and he stumbled on every other step, forcing Harry to support him anyway. Finally, after several near falls, they made it to the bathroom.

"Go on," Harry said, motioning toward the shower. "Get on with it. Just try to keep your bandages out of the water; it might be a while before we can replace them."

For one horrifying moment, Harry thought he was going to have to help Malfoy with this part, too. But then, Malfoy blinked, the fog in his eyes lifted slightly, and he started to undo his robes. Harry glanced the other way, not daring to look back until he heard the shower curtain slide shut. He wrinkled his nose at the soiled robes on the ground. There would probably be no salvaging them.

A knock on the door nearly made Harry jump out of his skin. "There's someone in here," he called.

"Harry," the muffled voice on the other side said, "it's me. You were taking a while getting upstairs, I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Hermione?" Harry paused, figuring he had better make sure. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

"He needed a shower. I thought we'd better get it out of the way while the house is still empty."

"Good thinking. I'll keep an eye out by the staircase in case someone comes in early."

"Thanks," Harry called.

Malfoy seemed to take ages to finish his shower. Harry stood with his back against the door, keeping his eyes focused on a spot on the wall. He had the distinct feeling that he should not be here, that even watching the shadow on the curtain was somehow a violation. It was certainly not as though he had never seen another boy undress or in a shower before; he had been on the Quidditch team after all. But in this case, his whole reason for being there was to keep watch. Just how close of a watch was he supposed to keep?

The water shut off, startling Harry back to reality. The curtain swept back and he had a brief glimpse of Malfoy's dripping wet form before he averted his eyes again. Out of the very corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy stepping out of the shower, one hand pressed against the wall and the other holding onto the curtain to keep himself from falling. Harry waited as Malfoy dried off and then gestured at the clothes he had brought in. Malfoy didn't move for a second, but then he reached for the shirt without complaint.

Harry waited for Malfoy to finish pulling his trousers on before turning back. The clothes which were normally big on Harry were ridiculously huge on Malfoy, the sleeves of the t-shirt hanging past his elbows and the trousers seeming in danger of falling down, even with the belt Harry had included.

Harry tore his eyes away and turned toward the door, pushing it open a bit. "Hermione," he whispered when he spotted her across the hall. "Is it safe?"

She nodded. "Yeah, nobody's been by. I don't know how much longer the reception will last though, so we'd better get him upstairs."

Harry pushed the door open and beckoned for Malfoy to come out. Hermione let out a small gasp the moment she saw him, then quickly rearranged her face into a mask and exchanged a glance with Harry before starting upstairs. Harry let Malfoy walk ahead of him, trailing a few steps behind just in case he stumbled again.

They made it up to Bill's room without incident. Malfoy did trip a few times, but he always managed to catch himself before he fell. Hermione pushed the door open and beckoned them inside.

"I'll stay and watch him," she said. "If Ginny asks, I'll just tell her I wasn't tired and wanted to go somewhere to read. You better go upstairs before Ron notices you're gone."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure. Now go. He's going to be suspicious enough as it is."

Harry took one last look at Malfoy, who was staring at a spot on the wall like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. "Good luck," he said, shutting the door. He stood with his back to the wall for a moment, trying to shake the feeling that this was a huge mistake.

"Harry!"

Harry's nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around. Ron stood a few stairs down, leaning heavily on the banister, his cheeks tinged pink.

"What're you doing down here?" Ron said, squinting.

"I...I couldn't sleep after all, so I was coming down to see if the reception was still going," Harry said quickly.

"Oh." Ron was talking rather louder than normal. "Well, it's over. Just a couple of the relatives left finishing off the punch."

"Punch?" Harry muttered. "Ron, are you drunk?"

"Of course not," Ron said indignantly, attempting to take the last few steps and falling to his knees, only just catching the banister to keep from falling on his face.

Harry let out a snort of laughter and stepped forward to pull Ron to his feet. "Sure you're not." He wrapped Ron's arm around his shoulders and helped him the rest of the way up the stairs. He pretended to listen to the rest of Ron's one-sided conversation, which was why he stumbled on the fifth landing, just in front of Ron's door, when he heard Hermione's name.

"What?" he asked.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked. "I tried to find her."

"I think she went to find an empty room," Harry said. It was probably best to keep all the lies the same. "Wanted to do some reading."

Ron chuckled as though Harry had made some sort of joke and stumbled into his room, collapsing on his bed.

Harry shook his head and stepped inside, closing the door and thanking his luck that Ron wasn't asking too many questions yet.

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Author's note: Please read and review. Again, sorry for the long wait. I'll try to be quicker with the next chapter, which should be longer than this one. A tentative teaser: two hungover Weasleys: one embarrassed and one smug, a tiny nugget of slash (not of the H/D variety), more chess, a rather large edition of the Daily Prophet, and someone puts their penetrating mind to the situation, invariably coming up with the wrong conclusion. It will also contain a small reference to incest, but trust me, it won't be anything too severe and it probably will never be mentioned again. Now, this is all conjecture, but it is looking very likely that the main slash will begin in chapter 6. If not, then definitely in chapter 7.

Now, I feel I must say something before I go, in light of the publication of the seventh book approaching. Unless something so large happens that I simply cannot bear to write this story any longer, I will continue to post this as an AU. Also, the plot is rather firmly etched in stone. Therefore, any similarities to the seventh book which may occur will be completely coincidental. I mostly type this in reference to the Horcruxes. I have a set idea in my mind of what they should be and how they should work in this story. Book seven won't change that. Thank you, and goodbye for now.