RISING FROM THE ASHES

Chapter Seven – The Wedding

The rays of sunlight playing across Harry's face were what caused him to awake the morning of Bill and Fleur's wedding. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on. Looking up, he saw Ron sitting in a chair near the door, intently hunched over a book. Harry, never having seen Ron look at a book in such a way, knew something was up.

"Hey mate," he said casually. Ron jumped, closing the book and covering its cover with his hand. "What are you reading?"

"N-nothing," Ron stammered, his ears reddening, "Just, er, um, doing some research." Seeing Harry's disbelieving expression, he gave in.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled, "You're going to find out sooner or later, I guess," He held the book he had been reading.

"How to Win Your Witch?" Harry read incredulously, "Ron," he said slowly, "You do know Fleur is about to be married, today, in fact? To your brother?"

"It's not for Fleur," said Ron impatiently, his face flushing to match his ears.

"For who, then?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

Ron murmured a name very quietly.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Harry said.

Ron said the name again, more loudly.

"Still can't hear you," Harry told him.

"Forget it," said Ron, "I – I just can't tell you, I'm sorry. Er, if things go well today, I'll tell you – that's a promise."

"It's alright, you don't have to tell me," Harry assured him, having a pretty good idea who Ron was referring to anyway.

"So," he asked, changing the subject, "What's a wizarding wedding like?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno," he admitted, "Never been to one."

"And you won't if we don't hurry up and get ready," Harry said, glancing at a clock on the dresser, "The wedding starts in two hours!"

Ron groaned, but nonetheless set his book aside and followed Harry downstairs to obtain their dress robes from Mrs. Weasley.

They found her seated at the dinning room table, sipping a cup of tea and reading Witch Weekly.

"Oh, hello, boys," she said pleasantly. "I was just about to come up and wake you. Hermione's decorating the garden, and the preparations have been made. Fleur and her family should be arriving any minute now," she sniffed, and all of a sudden tears began to pour down her face.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Harry exclaimed, alarmed.

"I'm sorry, d-dear," she sniffed, "It's just that – well Bill's getting married!"

"Really?" Ron muttered, "Hadn't noticed." Harry nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

Mrs. Weasley paused to blow her nose, and continued. "It seems like only yesterday he got his acceptance to Hogwarts, and now he's grown up, and will probably have some kids in a few years, and me – a grandparent!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, not quite sure what to say. Luckily, they were spared answering by Hermione, who had entered the house through the back door.

"Hello," she beamed at them, "I've just finished decorating, and everything looks spectacular!"

"Oh, hello Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley. "I think you should start getting ready now, go on to Ginny's room, she'll help you."

"Okay," Hermione said, starting to head up the stairs.

"Make sure she brushes her hair!" Mrs. Weasley called up to her, "It's so long and beautiful when it's brushed, I can't stand to see it tangled!"

She turned to Harry and Ron. "You two," she said. "Mind that you bathe, comb your hair, and change into these dress robes." She dumped them into their arms, and pushed them into the direction of the staircase as well.

"I hope she got lace free ones this time," Ron grumbled as they slung the robes over their shoulders and walked upstairs, "Here," he said, "You can use Percy's bathroom."

"Thanks," said Harry, turning right at the second floor.

He cracked open the door and coughed as the thin layer of dust billowed about the room. Rubbing his eyes furiously, he dumped the robes on Percy's bed, and opened the door to the bathroom, removing his robes and stepping into the shower.

He picked up the shampoo, labeled Prefect's Perfect Hair. Shaking his head in disgust, he began to lather, massaging his thick black hair.

When Harry had finished, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around himself and returned to the bedroom. He picked up his dress robes, which were green like the ones he had worn to the Yule Ball in his fourth year, yet a slightly different style. He got dressed, nearly tripping over a book at the foot of the bed (Power Hungry? Try a Career with the Ministry), and knocking it aside. Bending down to pick it up, he noticed a thin sheet of parchment sticking out from it. Intrigued, Harry slid it out from between the pages, and unfolded it.

"Boys," he heard Mrs. Weasley call from downstairs, "Hurry up, the wedding starts in an hour and Fleur's already here!"

Giving the parchment a final glance, Harry pocketed it to read another time. He gave his damp hair a quick brush, trying in vain to make it lie flat, and headed downstairs.

Mrs. Weasley stood with Fleur, straightening the tiara that sat atop her silvery-blonde hair. "Oh good, Harry, you're ready," she said distractedly.

"Where eez Bill?" Fleur asked nervously, flattening the skirt of her wedding dress, "I do not want 'im seeing me before zee wedding 'as started!"

"Don't worry," Mrs. Weasley said, giving the tiara one final poke and seemingly deciding it was evenly placed, "He's upstairs with Charlie, who has been given strict instructions to not let him out until given the okay,"

"Zat makes me feel much better," Fleur said, smiling gratefully, "Allo, Harry," she greeted him, climbing down from the stool on which she had been standing.

"Hello, Fleur," Harry responded, taking a seat in an armchair below Mrs. Weasley's special clock. All of the hands on it were pointing to Mortal Peril, with the exception of Percy's. Pushing aside this oddity, Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley and asked, "Are Ron and Hermione finished yet?"

"No, they aren't," said Mrs. Weasley, "Arthur, Fred, George, and Charlie are upstairs with Bill, Fleur's family is in the backyard, Ginny's in her room with Hermione, and Ron's in his room as well."

She glanced at the clock and gave a little shriek. "It's almost 12:00! The wedding starts in ten minutes! Fleur, dear, go on into that side room over there so that we can get Bill in here without him seeing you,"

Fleur complied, picking up the skirt of her gown and tossing her long hair over her shoulder.

Shortly after, Ron came down the stairs, clad in black robes with maroon trim, and took a seat next to Harry. He was followed by Mr. Weasley, Bill, Fred, George, and Charlie.

"Don't you all look handsome," Mrs. Weasley breathed, stroking Bill's cheek, "It seems like only yesterday you were eleven years old and thought girls were infested with glumbumbles, and look at you now, about to be married! She embraced him, crying into his shoulder.

"Mum!" Bill protested, gently prying her loose, "Please, calm down. I'm nervous enough as it is!" He walked outside, closing the wooden door behind him.

Mrs. Weasley wiped away a tear and gave the clock another anxious glance.

"Five more minutes," she fussed, "Where are those girls?"

"We're finished!" Ginny called down, racing down the staircase and nearly colliding into her mother.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. She looked amazing, with her long red hair cascading to her waist and her brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, mum," she apologized, "I had to do Hermione's hair and it took forever, she's just got so much of it…no offense, Hermione," she added.

"None taken," Hermione replied, running her fingers nervously through said hair.

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley said, frantically waving her hands and pushing the lot of them towards the back door, "It's time. You lot, except for Ginny, go fill the first two rows and Ginny find Gabrielle so you two can walk behind Fleur and hold her skirt. Fleur, you can come out now!" she said this all in one hastened breath, and ran ahead of them to sit in front.

Fleur did as she was told, and the rest of them followed her outside. She stood in the shadows, out of sight.

Hermione had been right, the garden looked spectacular. Glittering silver balls hung from the bushes, and between two laurel trees sat two red velvet chairs sheltered by a silk canopy.

There had to be at least two hundred people present, all sitting in white chairs which formed a humongous circle in ten rows. Surrounding this circle of chairs was another circle, formed from rocks in varying sizes. Four candles rested aflame at the north, south, east, and west ends of the circle, and an altar was positioned in the circle's center, on top of which sat a knife, a chalice, a small silver box, and a shovel. A broom carved from birch wood lay beside it. Bill stood some twenty feet away from the red velvet chairs, anxiously tapping his foot.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurriedly found seats with the twins,

The attendants watched in absolute awed silence as Fleur stepped forth, arm in arm with her father, a rather average looking man with her same silvery hair. Ginny and Gabrielle followed behind her, grasping the end of her skirt.

He lifted her hand from his own, and placed it in Bill's. He said in a loud, clear, heavily accented voice, "I give my daughter to 'er soon to be 'usband."

Gabrielle and Ginny turned around, and marched back to their seats as Bill led Fleur to the canopied area. They sat beside each other, still arm in arm.

A wizened old man whose name Harry did not know stood, stepped out side of the circle, and conjured a gong. He rang it three times, and announced in raspy voice "Let the ceremony commence!"

A great cheer went up as Bill and Fleur stood, walking towards the circle, and Hermione turned to Harry and whispered, "That's the enkêlaïde, he performs the marriage ceremony." Harry nodded to show he understood.

Bill and Fleur stopped at the end which Harry knew to be the east, walking once around until they reached their original spot once again, then stepping inside the circle and standing in front of the altar.

The man stood beside them, and began to speak once more.

"Dearly beloved," he said, "We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy matrimony."

The crowd cheered once more, and he continued.

"Does anyone present object to the marriage of this man and this woman?"

Nobody protested, and after a few more moments of silence, he spoke again.

"Bill Weasley, do you take Fleur Delacour to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage?

"I do," Bill said nervously, running a hand through his long red hair.

"Do you promise to love, comfort, honor, and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, be faithful only to her so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Bill repeated firmly.

"And do you, Fleur Delacour take Bill Weasley to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage?"

"Oui, I do." Fleur said, flashing a smile.

"Do you promise to love, comfort, honor, and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she said again.

The enkêlaïde handed Bill a golden goblet encrusted with rubies.

"Drink," he commanded, and Bill did as he was told, taking a gulp of water and then handing it to Fleur, who took a much more dignified sip, and then held it up for Bill to drink from once more. He took another drink, and then held it out for Fleur to do the same.

"Face each other," instructed the man, "And Miss Delacour, please place your right hand in Mr. Weasley's. They did so.

Seconds later, a dazzling red light shot up from between them. It wrapped around each of their hands, chaining them together and entwining their fingers. It looped around once more, and finally tied itself in a bow, still gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

"By the power vested in ancient magic that we cannot yet comprehend, your souls have been joined together by your love," recited the enkêlaïde. He picked the knife off of the altar and handed it to Fleur.

"Cut a lock of his hair and place it in this box," he said, indicating the silver box.

She held the knife diagonally in one hand, grasping a lock of Bill's hair with the other, and sliced. The hair drifted to rest inside the box. Bill took the knife and did the same, Fleur's silvery hair falling on top of his bright red lock.

Once Bill had placed the lid gently over the box, the man addressed the two of them.

"Be understanding and patient, each with the other. Be free in the giving of affection and warmth. Be sensuous with one another. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for the magic in the spell that binds your hands and your soul is with you now and always, even after all visible traces disappear. Do you understand?"

"We do," Bill and Fleur said in unison.

The red spell that had intertwined their hands began to fade, leaving behind a ring on each of their hands.

"Will each and everyone of you here today do your part to ensure that this couple's marriage is happy, healthy, and long-lasting?" asked the enkêlaïde.

"We will," said everyone together, and in Hermione's case, with tears in her eyes.

The crowd cheered for the third time afternoon, and began to chant (led by Fred and George) "Kiss the bride! Kiss the bride! Kiss the bride!"

Bill did not disappoint them. He swung Fleur around, placed a hand on her waist, and kissed her deeply. They broke apart a few moments later, smiling happily. Bill then picked up the silver box and the trowel, and began to dig a hole at the center of the circle. When it was reasonably deep, he handed the silver box to Fleur, who placed it in the hole and smoothed a pile of dirt over it.

The enkêlaïde picked up the broom which had been lying against the altar, and placed it in front of the pair of them, then backed away and out of the circle, picking up the altar and carrying it with him.

Fleur and Bill joined hands, and in one fluid motion leapt over the broomstick.

"Very well then. I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!" announced the enkêlaïde. He then rang the bell which had signaled the start of the ceremony three more times, and the attendants rose as one.

On the other side of the garden were groups of tables practically overflowing with food, and they began heading in that general direction.

"Mum said there'd be place cards to tell us where to sit," Ron informed Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, leading them towards a square table off to the side and in front of a stage, "Harry, looks like you're here," he said, indicating the seat closest to them, "Ginny, you're across from him, Hermione you're next to Ginny and I'm across from you."

They all took their respective seats, setting aside the place cards to make room for their plates. Ron, not unexpectedly, began to load his with everything in sight.

Once everyone had finished eating, a woman who had to be Fleur's mother got up on the stage and held her wand to her throat, muttering "Sonorous".

"Bonjour, tout le monde," she said, "Merci beaucoup pour –"

"Hermione," Ron hissed, "Care to translate?"

"Well," she said uncertainly, "My French isn't perfect, but I'll give it a try…"

She furrowed her brow in concentration.

"Alright, she's saying something about dancing …"

"What about it?" asked Ron, turning slightly pale.

"She says that according to French customs, all the boys and men must ask the girl or woman sitting across from them to dance." Hermione replied, flushing slightly, and determinedly staring at the floor.

Harry glanced nervously at Ginny, and looked quickly away.

As Mrs. Delacour climbed off the stage, the band struck up its first chord.

"So, er, Hermione," said Ron nervously, "I – I guess that means, I – er – well," he stuttered, "W-would you, er, like to dance?"

"I'd love to," Hermione smiled. Ron broke out into a huge grin, and then nudged Harry in the ribs, giving a slight nod toward Ginny, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, er, Ginny, would you like to dance with me?" Harry asked, heart pounding in his chest.

"Of course," she said softly, staring at him. She stood up to head over to the dance floor, followed by Ron, who was looking positively giddy. The pair of them turned around, waiting for Harry and Hermione to join them.

"Just a moment," Harry promised, and they turned away.

"Hermione," he said in an undertone, a knowing grin on his face.

"What?" she asked sharply, not meeting his eyes.

"Mrs. Delacour didn't really say for us to ask the person across from us to dance, did she?"

"No," said Hermione, turning pink, "She didn't."

Harry chuckled, and Hermione glared at him.

"Oh, come off it, Harry!" she said embarrassedly, and then in a quieter voice, "It's not like he was going to pluck up the courage to ask me without prompting, was he?"

Shaking his head and trying to repress his laughter, Harry went over to Ginny, holding out his arm for her to take.

They waltzed around the dance area, Ginny looking up at him, brown eyes sparkling and lips curled in a contented smile. It was taking every ounce of self-restraint Harry had to keep things purely platonic, and not kiss her.

Green eyes met brown, and they exchanged their thoughts in silence, gazing at each other.

Off on the side, Hagrid blew his nose with a loud honk.

"Don't they look happy, Minerva?" he asked Professor McGonagall.

"They look, Hagrid," she replied, "Like Lily and James."