The Wedding
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Three o'clock on the following afternoon found Harry, Kitty, Ron, Fred and George standing outside the great white marquee in the orchard, awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice Potion and was now the double of a redheaded Muggle boy from the local village, Ottery St. Catchpole, from whom Fred had stolen hairs using a Summoning Charm. The plan was to introduce Harry as "Cousin Barny" and trust to the great number of Weasley relatives to camouflage him. As for Kitty, Mrs. Weasley had done something to her hair, that had made it become several shades lighter, and she now looked a distant cousin of the Weasleys. Her eyes and nose had also been transformed by Mrs. Weasley, and a considerable number of freckles had been added to her face.
Brightly colored figures were appearing, one by one out of nowhere at the distant boundary of the yard. Within minutes a procession had formed, which began to snake its way up through the garden toward the marquee. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds fluttered on the witches' hats, while precious gems glittered from many of the wizards' cravats; a hum of excited chatter grew louder and louder, drowning the sound of the bees as the crowd approached the tent.
'Excellent, I think I see a few veela cousins,' said George, craning his neck for a better look. 'They'll need help understanding our English customs; I'll look after them...'
'Not so fast, Your Holeyness,' said Fred, and darting past the gaggle of middle-aged witches heading for the procession, he said, 'Here… permetiez moi to assister vous,' to a pair of pretty French girls, who giggled and allowed him to escort them inside. George was left to deal with the middle-aged witches and Ron took charge of Mr. Weasley's old Ministry-colleague Perkins, while a rather deaf old couple fell to Harry's lot.
'Wotcher Kitty,' said a familiar voice behind her. She turned around and saw Tonks and Remus. Tonks had turned blonde for the occasion.
Remus gave her a swift smile, but as he turned away, Kitty saw Remus's face fall again into lines of misery. She did not understand it, but there was no time to dwell on the matte, for Luna had walked up to them, with a slightly eccentric looking wizard. Slightly cross-eyed, with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candyfloss, he wore a cap whose tassel dangled in front of his nose and robes of an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow. An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck.
'Xenophilius Lovegood,' he said, extending a hand to Kitty, 'Luna and I live just over the hill, so kind of the good Weasleys to invite us.
'I knew it was you straightaway,' said Luna, 'For you were standing with Remus and Tonks. Oh, and I almost forgot, Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Lupin.'
Remus and Tonks smiled and thanked her.
Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you get over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears.
Luna said, 'Kitty, look, there's Vandyll and Dennis!'
Kitty looked where she was pointing and saw her friends.
'Um, excuse me Remus,' she said.
As she drifted off after Luna, Ron reappeared with an elderly witch clutching his arm. Her beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and leathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo.
'...and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelet. And who are you?' she barked at Kitty.
'Oh yeah, Auntie Muriel, this is our cousin Melanie.'
'Another Weasley? You breed like gnomes. Isn't Harry Potter here? I was hoping to meet him. I thought he was a friend of yours, Ronald, or have you merely been boasting?'
'No, he couldn't come…'
'Hmm. Made an excuse, did he? Not as gormless as he looks in press photographs, then. I've just been instructing the bride on how best to wear my tiara,' she shouted at Kitty. 'Goblin-made, you know, and been in my family for centuries. She's a good-looking girl, but still she's French. Well, well, find me a good seat, Ronald, I am a hundred and seven and I ought not to be on my feet too long.'
Ron gave Kitty a meaningful look as he passed and did not reappear for some time.
'Hey Vandyll! Hey Dennis!' said Kitty hugging them both.
'Hi! Blimey, you look just like a Weasley!' said Dennis.
'Okay, guys, there's something I have to talk to you about. Follow me,' said Kitty, leading them to a corner of the tent.
'What is it?' said Vandyll.
'I'm not returning to Hogwarts,' said Kitty.
'What? Why?' said Vandyll.
'Well,' said Kitty choosing her words carefully, 'Harry, Ron and Hermione are not returning either. Dumbledore left them stuff to do. Remus reckons that I should stay with Harry so that Voldemort does not capture me to bait Harry.'
The other three stared at her. Dennis opened his mouth to say something, but Kitty beat him to it.
'Don't ask me, where I'm going and for what, because I can't tell you. Dumbledore's orders,' said Kitty.
'But, this is ridiculous,' said Vandyll.
'I know, but I have no choice,' said Kitty sadly. 'But hey, we can still talk using that two way mirror. Just make sure you don't let anyone else know that you're talking to me. Oh and, can—can you do me a huge favor?'
'What?' said Vandyll.
'I—You—I mean, could you sometimes…sometimes lend your mirror to Draco, so I can talk to him too?' said Kitty, not meeting any of their eyes.
'Sure,' said Vandyll, a little stiffly.
'Thanks, you're the best,' said Kitty. 'Come on let's go and see what's happening.'
They went back and joined Harry, Ron and Hermione who were talking about Aunt Muriel. They were all laughing so much that none of them noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows, until he held out his invitation to Ron and said, with his eyes on Hermione, 'You look vunderful.'
'Viktor!' she shrieked, and dropped her small beaded bag, which made a loud thump quite disproportionate to its size. As she scrambled, blushing, to pick it up, she said 'I didn't know you were…goodness, it's lovely to see you. How are you?'
Ron's ears had turned bright red again. After glancing at Krum's invitation as if he did not believe a word of it, he said, much too loudly, 'How come you're here?'
'Fleur invited me,' said Krum, eyebrows raised.
Harry and Kitty, who had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then feeling that it would be prudent to remove Krum from Ron's vicinity, offered to show him his seat.
'Your friend is not pleased to see me,' said Krum, as they entered the now packed marquee. 'Or is he a relative?' he added with a glance at Harry's red curly hair.
'Cousin.' Harry muttered, but Krum was not really listening. His appearance was causing a stir, particularly amongst the veela cousins: He was, after all, a famous Quidditch player. While people were still craning their necks to get a good look at him, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George came hurrying down the aisle.
'Time to sit down,' Fred told Kitty, 'or we're going to get run over by the bride.'
Harry, Kitty, Luna, Vandyll, Dennis, Ron and Hermione took their seats in the second row behind Fred and George. Hermione looked rather pink and Ron's ears were still scarlet. After a few moments he muttered to Kitty, 'Did you see he's grown a stupid little beard?'
'Hmm,' said Kitty, wondering how to change the topic.
A sense of jittery anticipation had filled the warm tent, the general murmuring broken by occasional spurts of excited laughter. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives; Mrs. Weasley was wearing a brand-new set of amethyst colored robes with a matching hat.
A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with larger white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.
'Ooooh!' said Hermione, swiveling around in her seat to look at the entrance.
A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everybody it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual and once Fleur had reached for him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Kitty saw the same small, tufty-hired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur. 'We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls...'
'Yes, my tiara set off the whole thing nicely,' said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. 'But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut.'
Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, and then quickly faced the front again. Harry's mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to the afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person's life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead...
'Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...?'
In the front row, Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Hermione turned around and beamed at Harry; her eyes too were full of tears.
'...then I declare you bonded for life.'
The tufty-haired wizard waved his hand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst. Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.
'Ladies and gentlemen!' called the tufty-haired wizard. 'If you would please stand up!'
'Smooth,' said Ron approvingly as the waiters popped up on all sides, some hearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhisky, others tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches.
'We should go and congratulate them!' said Hermione, standing on tiptoe to see the place where Bill and Fleur had vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers.
'We'll have time later,' shrugged Ron, snatching three butterbeers from a passing tray and handing one to Harry. 'Hermione, cop hold, let's grab a table... Not there! Nowhere near Muriel!'
Ron led the way across the empty dance floor, glancing left and right as he went; Kitty felt sure that he was keeping an eye out for Krum. The band had begun to play, Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor first, to great applause; after a while, and Mr. Weasley led Madame Delacour onto the floor, followed by Mr. Weasley and Fleur's father.
'I like this song,' said Luna, swaying in time to the waltzlike tune, and a few seconds later she stood up and glided onto the dance floor, where she revolved on the spot, quite alone, eyes closed and waving her arms.
Viktor Krum had dropped into Luna's vacant seat. Hermione looked pleasurably flustered but this time Krum had not come to compliment her. With a scowl on his face he said, 'Who is that man in the yellow?'
'That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours,' said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. 'Come and dance,' he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor. Harry left too, to dance with Ginny.
'Ah, they are together now?' asked Krum, momentarily distracted.
'Er… sort of,' said Kitty.
'Who are you?' Krum asked.
'Melanie Weasley.'
They shook hands.
'You, Melanie, you know this man Lovegood well?'
'No, I only met him today. Why?'
Krum glowered over the top of his drink, watching Xenophilius, who was chatting to several warlocks on the other side of the dance floor.
'Because,' said Krum, 'If he vus not a guest of Fleur's I vould dud him, here and now, for veering that filthy sign upon his chest.'
'Sign?' said Kitty, looking over at Xenophilius too. The strange triangular eye was gleaming on his chest. 'Why? What's wrong with it?'
'Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign.'
'Grindelwald... the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?'
'Exactly.'
Krum's jaw muscles worked as if he were chewing, then he said, 'Grindelvald killed many people, my grandfather, for instance. Of course, he vos never powerful in this country, they said he feared Dumbledore and rightly, seeing how he vos finished. But this,' he pointed a finger at Xenophilius, 'this is his symbol, I recognized it at vunce: Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ver he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it onto their books and clothes thinking to make themselves impressive until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better.'
Krum cracked his knuckles menacingly and glowered at Xenophilius. Kitty felt perplexed. It seemed incredibly unlikely that Luna's father was a supporter of the Dark Arts, and nobody else in the tent seemed to have recognized the triangular, finlike shape.
'Are you…er… quite sure it's Grindelwald's -?'
'I am not mistaken,' said Krum coldly. 'I walked past that sign for several years, I know it vell.'
'Well, there's a chance,' said Kitty, 'that Xenophilius doesn't actually know what the symbol means, the Lovegoods are quite... unusual. He could have easily picked it up somewhere and think it's a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.'
'The cross section of a vot?'
'Well, I don't know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them...'
Kitty felt she was doing a bad job explaining Luna and her father.
'That's her,' she said, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges.
'Vy is she doing that?' asked Krum.
'Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,' said Kitty, who recognized the symptoms.
Krum did not seem to know whether or not Kitty was making fun of him. He drew his hand from inside his robe and tapped it menacingly on his thighs; sparks flew out of the end.
Kitty did not answer. She pretended to watch the dancers, like Krum.
'This girl is very nice-looking,' Krum said, recalling Kitty to her surroundings. Krum was pointing at Ginny, who had just joined Luna. 'She is also a relative of yours?'
'Yeah,' said Kitty, 'and she's seeing someone. Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn't want to cross him.'
'And what about Kitty Potter? Is she not here?' said Krum.
'Aren't you a bit old for her?' said Kitty, slightly irritated.
'I'm just tventy,' said Krum.
'Yeah, and she's fourteen, besides she has a boyfriend,' said Kitty getting up to leave.
'Vot,' he said, draining his goblet, 'is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?'
'I—I have to go, I think Har—Barny is calling me,' said Kitty, rushing towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.
'So what was Viktor saying?' said Hermione casually. Ron scowled.
'He was hitting on me,' said Kitty angrily. Harry clenched his fists in anger.
'Really?' said Hermione, 'I thought Viktor fancied me.'
'Yeah, I thought so too,' said Kitty, 'but that was before he started hitting on Ginny and me.'
Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, and pulled out their wands.
'Oh, don't be silly,' said Hermione briskly, ushering them to sit down. Harry and Ron looked at Krum, and sat down fretfully.
At that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
'The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.'
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