Katie Wood checked herself over in the mirror one more time. Something about having Daniel and Oliver both in Egypt made the silence of her usually empty house seem heavier than when they were nearby. She had to resist the urge to sod the wedding altogether and re-clean her pristine house. But Oliver had said he would meet her there, not here. Besides, maybe a wedding would be good for her nerves. A happy occasion, for a change. So to the wedding she would go.
Les Belles Fleurs, she thought, clutching her purse and turning on the spot.
Katie couldn't remember having ever gone to a wedding alone and, within minutes, she knew why. Witches and wizards, dressed to the nines, were appearing throughout the garden, in pairs and groups, chatting eagerly and pointing out the elaborate decorations. The aisle for the ceremony was marked with an elaborate archway covered in silver tulle, twinkling fairy lights, and bouquets of lavender flowers. Without thinking, Katie looked around for Oliver to comment on the design, before remembering she was alone. She settled into the last row on Kaelyn's side, saving a place on either side of her, just in case.
The wedding was set to start in less than ten minutes, and Katie was starting to get nervous. Maybe Oliver had shirked the wedding, saying he was getting Daniel but really doing nothing of the sort. Or maybe something had happened. She didn't wait around long enough to make sure he had Flooed safely to Egypt, and that was a long distance to travel. Not to mention getting back. Or convincing Daniel to join him.
She wrung her hands as they lay in her lap, trying to get her mind off thoughts of her husband and son. The wedding was certainly beautiful, and there was no lack of interesting people to look at. It seemed to be a more accurate list of who's who in the Wizarding World than any she'd ever seen printed. Reporters and photographers flanked the perimeter, capturing exaggerated reunions between A-listers. A string quartet, dressed in Muggle tuxedos and playing romantic tunes that seemed nearly nostalgic, was off to the right of the arbor where Kaelyn and Lysander would soon marry.
It was nothing like her own wedding. While they had access to some means, the wedding was rushed more than planned, because Daniel was on his way. A small affair, a dress to hide her growing belly, witnesses they could trust not to say anything. Nearly twenty-four years later, though, it felt like exactly what they needed. Their wedding was a small moment of quietude before Oliver's skill at Quidditch launched them into the public eye.
Kaelyn and Lysander's wedding was proof of what would have happened if they had married any later. It was beautiful, but it wasn't her. It wasn't Oliver. Katie couldn't help but wonder, as the music switched and the guests quickly found their seats, how much of this elaborate wedding Kaelyn would actually remember twenty-four years from now.
Once everyone was seated, Lysander did not saunter down the aisle. From what Katie had seen at concerts, this was unusual for him. He didn't look like a rock star in that moment. He was just a young man in dress robes, who simultaneously looked scared as hell about the ceremony and dumbfounded that he got so lucky.
The wizarding world was too small, the people at the wedding too famous, and the Weasley family too large for Lucy not to recognize everyone in the wedding party. Lorcan was the best man, of course, and right next to him was Louis Weasley, his partner. Lucy couldn't help but smile at the sight of him in stuffy silver wizarding robes. Her cousin stood stiff and uncomfortable; he always wore Muggle clothing. The last groomsman was Michael Goldstein. Unsurprisingly, he and Molly had dated once. Surprisingly, it was beginning to look like he deserved it. Being twenty-something suited him.
Officially single again, Lucy saw no harm in trying to catch his eye, but she was more than halfway from the front and his eyes were unfortunately glued to the bridesmaids - more specifically, she realized, to Emma Macmillan's cleavage. Oh well. She glanced down at herself; she had the whole reception to convince him there was better cleavage to stare at.
Lucy was pulled out of her own musing by the sudden change in music and everyone around her rising to their feet. Kaelyn looked gorgeous. There were no two ways about it. She managed to look traditional and over-the-top at the same time, with curly blonde hair falling effortlessly (perhaps with the help of some magic) down her back. Her dress was covered in shimmering crystals, subtle, but catching the light at every angle and making her look like she was glowing.
But there was something off about her face. Her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed as Mr. Finnigan walked her down the aisle, like she was trying to keep from crying. She looked at no one as she passed, and hardly seemed to see Lysander waiting for her at the end and grinning. It was her wedding day and she was trying not to cry. Lucy wasn't much of a judge, but the tears Kaelyn held back didn't seem to be happy.
At least not until they reached the front, and Mr. Finnigan bent down to kiss his daughter's cheek. "I love you, Kaelyn," he said, squeezing her hand, "but not nearly as much as this man does." And Kaelyn smiled.
What would it be like to have her father say those words to her? Lucy couldn't bring herself to imagine. She couldn't picture her father's voice filled with that much love. She couldn't picture a man waiting there who could keep her from crying and make her grin instead. She couldn't even imagine not flinching as the cameras clicked and documented yet one more moment of her life.
Maybe it was something worth hoping for one day. Maybe someday someone would show her the kind of love that Lysander showed Kaelyn as he took her hands from Mr. Finnigan and held them close and looked like it was taking all his learned restraint to not pull her close and skip straight to the kissing.
"We are gathered here today," the minister began, and Lucy daydreamed.
Kaelyn hadn't thought it would be so difficult to keep her composure on her wedding day. The conversation with her mother just before the ceremony started might have been a bad idea, in retrospect. Even as she waited with her dad in the hallway and he cracked stupid jokes to keep from crying, all Kaelyn could do was replay the past year of her life. And all she could play were the bad parts. The fights, the worries about Lysander's faithfulness, the tabloids.
"Are you all right, Kae?" her dad finally asked, once the last bridesmaid had made her way down the aisle. "Shouldn't you be happier?"
"Yes, I should," she said, but refused to elaborate. The flower girl started a painstakingly careful walk down the aisle, her dad returned to his jokes, and Kaelyn tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing.
She saw no one as she passed the arch and made her way down the aisle. The crowd was so large that it became just that - a crowd. There were no individual people to look at. No one but Lysander. And he was staring at her with his jaw slacked, his eyes not wavering from her once.
About halfway down the aisle, she was still forcing herself not to cry, but for a different reason. It was like she took a step and a switch flipped in her brain from the worst memories to the best. Board games at 3 am, with the kind of intense competitiveness that only made them closer. Pillow fights. Long conversations about how Lysander never felt as connected to his parents as Lorcan was.
Seamus kissed her cheek and guided her toward Lysander, and Kaelyn grinned. He looked handsome, of course, and she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed just so that he wasn't thinking about much else but their wedding night, and her mind wandered there too, unable to do anything but think about their plans and grin.
"We are gathered here today," the minister began, and Kaelyn nearly jumped from the shock that she and Lysander weren't alone after all. Neither of them listened as the minister droned on about the sanctity of marriage, and how love is the strongest and most profound of all magic. She only vaguely kept pace with the topic because of their pre-wedding meetings.
Instead, she was preoccupied with studying Lysander's face, communicating as much as she could with him through small squeezes of his hand, and subtle facial changes, and trying to keep her cheeks hurting from grinning. Maybe it was like her mum had said, and there were all sorts of doubts when it came to getting married. But all of the doubts get buried beneath love, and some sort of knowledge that it was the right idea.
"Kaelyn, if you could please repeat after me."
"Right, yes," she mumbled, turning to look the minister in the eye for the first time since the ceremony had started.
"I, Kaelyn Aoife Finnigan, take Lysander Rolf Scamander to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."
She didn't even stumble over the words, and looked him in the eye the whole time. When Lysander repeated them back to her, she was reminded why his band was so popular. He could take the most repeated words in the world and turn them into a love story that seemed written just for her.
"I declare you bonded for life. You may-" Lysander didn't wait any longer, and the minister's vain attempt to say "kiss your bride" was buried beneath the shouts of the audience Kaelyn had forgotten about. They kissed longer than was prudent, but it was their wedding day. They could do as they pleased.
As they pulled away, held hands, and faced the exit, Kaelyn surveyed her guests for the first time. Even though she had all but forgotten about her, Molly Weasley, with her red hair and tall stature, was easy to spot. But Daniel was nowhere to be found. Instead, Molly sat with Lucy and Roxanne, happy tears making her eyes shine. As Kaelyn and Lysander passed, Kaelyn sent her a weak smile. Molly returned it with a grin.
"Congrats," Molly mouthed just before Kaelyn and her husband passed from view.
"Thank you," she replied, and squeezed Lysander's hand.
Oliver was careful not to make a scene as he slipped into the reception. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't upset to have missed the whole ceremony. Wedding ceremonies were solemn events, where he would be expected to hold his wife's hand and pat her leg sympathetically when she teared up at the vows.
At Daniel's wedding, if he ever had one, Oliver could understand this. Maybe he would get emotional, too. But even though they hardly knew Lysander and Kaelyn, it wouldn't stop Katie from caring. He almost, but only almost, preferred the trials he'd just finished facing in Egypt.
Katie was easy enough to find, sitting with Daisy Zeller and Roxanne. He was glad she chose seats with Puddlemere players, until he remembered the last time he and Roxanne had spoken. And saw that Molly and Lucy had inevitably joined her. He had confidence in his conversation with Daniel, so he wasn't too worried about Molly being there, but Percy and Audrey were still getting drinks at the bar, and would soon be looking for spots. With four left open at his table, he was sure it was only a matter of time.
"You made it back," Katie said accusingly as he sat down. "Alone."
"It's good to see you, too," he said.
She glanced across the table at Molly, who was engrossed in an animated conversation with Roxanne. "Did you even go to Egypt?" Katie hissed.
"I did. I talked to him. I think it went well."
"You apologized?"
"I did what I could," he repeated. "I'll give you a play-by-play tonight, if you insist. How was the ceremony?"
Her eyes softened. "Beautiful. Extravagant, to say the least, but beautiful. They really looked in love."
"They did, didn't they?" Molly mused. "It was nice to see them so happy. The last time I saw them both in person they were in the middle of a row."
Katie laughed. "Some couples are like that. They row more often than they get along, but it works."
Roxanne raised her eyebrows pointedly and looked from Katie to Oliver. Her mouth was halfway open to begin speaking, but the next voice Oliver heard was deeper, and more pompous, than Roxanne's could ever be. "Do you mind if we join you?"
"Not at all," Molly said, to disapproving looks from not only Oliver, but Lucy.
Percy's glass of firewhisky was already only half full as he set it beside the etched crystal goblet ready for ice water. Oliver wondered what he had to be so nervous about. The Percy he remembered would never drink to excess. It was out of pity that Oliver finally said, "Percy, it's good to see you again. And Audrey, a pleasure to finally meet you. Oliver Wood."
He reached across the table to shake her hand. "The pleasure is mine," she insisted.
"My wife, Katie."
"Nice to meet you."
While the formalities were taking place, Oliver noticed that the four youngest people at the table sat in silence. Even Daisy seemed to sense the tension underneath the cordial words. As Katie and Audrey sat down again, Roxanne began to whisper hastily to her teammate, no doubt explaining everything. Or everything she knew, at least.
Few knew how close they were as classmates, and only Katie and Percy himself knew the depth of their fallout. Oliver refused to back down on telling Percy he was wrong to join the Ministry, wrong to come back, wrong to be alive when Fred was dead. He hadn't even let Percy get a word in edgewise at the time, and stormed out of The Three Broomsticks before he'd even had a chance to apologize.
Stiff waiters served appetizers on white porcelain dishes plated in silver, and the conversation remained stagnant. The children seemed too frightened to carry on their usual conversations, and Katie and Audrey kept looking at each other apologetically, like they wanted to say something. Percy's firewhisky was gone. "Let me get you another," his wife insisted.
"I need something to drink, too," Katie said almost immediately. "Let me join you."
"Roxie, isn't that Kavya Goldstein sitting by Rose and Scorpius? We should go say hi."
"We should! Daisy, do you want to join us?"
"Of course."
It took less than fifteen seconds for the table to be cleared. "We need to talk," Percy mumbled, uncharacteristically, without looking up from his food.
Oliver took a few deep breaths. This was no place to get angry, and his anger had been the worst thing to happen to Percy's daughter since Rita Skeeter. "Okay. I guess we never finished that conversation after the war."
"You had every right to say what you did. And I ended up ignoring most of your advice anyway. Look at me! Minister! Just what I wanted! But I haven't been happy. And I never apologized. So, well, I'm sorry. You told me I was wrong and I didn't listen. I went straight back to the Ministry."
"You made it better," Oliver insisted. "It's been a long time. We should start over. Especially if our children are going to be in a relationship."
"It will work out between them? I thought they broke up."
"That was my fault, and I did what I could to fix it. I just hope Daniel listens to me."
Percy took another bite of his food. "So do I," he said, smiling. "Friends, and perhaps in-laws one day?"
"Friends," Oliver agreed.
Making amends with Oliver lifted a weight off Percy's shoulders he hadn't realized had been there. Or maybe it was the firewhisky getting into his system. Either way, Percy felt freer. It might have been the alcohol, but Percy was beginning to believe that reconciliation meant more to him than a solid win against Ernie Macmillan to remain Minister for Magic.
Molly and the other girls came back from visiting with Rose and her friends, the women returned with drinks for their husbands - Percy began to drink his with fervor, in case it was the alcohol making him feel so light - and conversation flowed freely again. Between the appetizer and the entree, the band started up again, and couples everywhere began to dance.
"Lucy!" he said suddenly, setting down his third empty glass. "Dance with me!"
"You… want to dance, Dad? They might take pictures."
"Let them take pictures! Let them run a tabloid showing me dancing with my daughter!"
Lucy got up, and even inebriated, Percy could tell she was wary. He vaguely remembered, through the layer of fog the firewhisky added to his consciousness, that she ran away from England because of him. But she was here now, and he wanted to dance.
As they made their way across the floor, he began to remember their many rows, and the things his youngest had accused him of over the years. "You don't like me much," he said.
"It's not that," Lucy insisted. "I just wish - I just wish you'd let me act my age. I grew up, but you still had control over the country, and you tried to take control of my life."
Percy chuckled. His daughter's tenaciousness was inherited from either Audrey or his own mother. "Running a country is much easier than controlling you, Lucy. I'm your father, though. You can't blame me for trying. It's a scary world out there. I see it every day at work. I saw it when I was your age when there were wars being fought. I chose wrong. You get that from me, you know, even though you choose differently. I don't want you choosing wrong."
Lucy laughed half-heartedly. "I don't learn from examples. I have to try things for myself. I have to get away and be independent and decide what works for me. It's hard to do when everyone knows who you are. And it's harder when your father could conceivably pass a new law that anyone with a name starting with L was no longer allowed outside of London without official permission. You could take grounding to an entirely different level."
He had never thought of it that way. "I could. But I never did."
"No, but it's easier being away from you. I like Dublin, Dad. I fit better over there. I can be more anonymous. And they have their very own Minister."
"You really want to go back?"
Percy could sense hesitation in her face, see her thinking through every pro and con. She got that from him, too, he mused. "I think so. But I'm not sure if I want my job back."
"Barmaid at a dodgy place, weren't you?"
"Very dodgy."
"You're better than that, Lucy. Go back after the wedding, if you want to. With my blessing. And with the same stipend your sister gets. Find yourself a job you love."
The music had stopped playing, but neither of them noticed. They kept dancing anyway. "Thanks, Dad. But I'll only take your stipend until I do. When I have that job, I want to be on my own. I don't want to rely on you."
He smiled and pulled her close for a hug. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
Molly could hardly believe it. She was at Lysander Scamander's wedding, and she was happy. The food being good and the ceremony surpassing even the elegance Molly was used to from Ministry balls certainly didn't make matters worse. And as far as she could tell, people were busy reconciling. Her dad was even dancing with Lucy, and Lucy was smiling - actually smiling - at their father. If only Daniel were there, everything might turn out perfect for everyone.
The band finished a song and sat down; Molly followed everyone else's eyelines toward the head table, where Luna stood elegantly in a flowing silver dress and radish earrings. "Thank you, everyone, for attending. Kaelyn and Lysander have chosen a lovely venue where Nargles are few and happiness abounds, and I know they are grateful to share with each of you in this intimate ceremony." Molly wasn't sure if Luna realized how her words sounded. The Luna she knew wasn't capable of sarcasm or subtlety, so she must mean everything she was saying.
"Rolf and I couldn't be happier for the couple, and I know Lavender and Seamus feel the same way. It is with great pleasure that I ask you to join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. Lysander Scamander!"
The deafening applause and spontaneously lit Fabulous, Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks drowned out all other noise as they entered, happy, with unsurprisingly untidy hair. Kaelyn was wearing a different dress, shorter and better for dancing, and even Molly couldn't help but admit that she looked glowing. It was such a contrast to the Kaelyn who had begun the walk down the aisle.
The last of the fireworks lit up above the dance floor as they made their way to the head table for food. Various conversations were beginning to break out among the guests' tables and it seemed like the party would carry on again when a two-story flower display on the far side of the venue spontaneously collapsed.
If Molly were at the Burrow, she would have hardly looked twice. Her granddad was always up to something that threatened the stability of his home. But this was a wedding. The wedding of the season, she remembered spryly, and magical or not, two-story flower displays did not just suddenly fall over. Nor did disheveled young men come crawling out of the wreckage.
She was out of her seat before she realized she recognized him. "Daniel?" It was hardly a whisper, but the reception had become silent. Everyone seemed to be watching them. So this is what it's like in person, Molly thought. She felt like she was living out the cover of the next issue of Witch Weekly. Then again, for all she knew, she was. Sure enough, the clicks of cameras had already begun to replace the eerie quiet.
Daniel was getting closer. His face searched hers, but his face was so screwed with concentration that his own emotions were unreadable. Molly could only tell that his decision to come had been last minute. He wore workers' robes, dirty and torn in places. A light sunburn tinted his skin. He hadn't even taken the time to Scourgify himself before showing up.
Beneath her, the grass gave way to the wood of the dance floor and soon she and Daniel had met in the middle. They kept three feet between them.
"You came," Molly finally said, staring at the fraying hem of Daniel's left sleeve.
"Yeah, I came."
"You missed the wedding."
Daniel's laugh gave Molly courage to meet his eyes. "I never wanted to go to the wedding in the first place."
"But you came," she insisted.
"Not to see Lysander or Kaelyn. I hoped you would be here." He took one more step toward her. "How's your sister?"
She glanced back over toward her table, noticing everyone in her eyesight had stopped chatting. Yes, they were definitely being billed as the evening's entertainment. But she saw Lucy, and Lucy was smiling. "She's better. Rash decisions and a penchant for
Disapparating aren't always the best combination."
"You can say that again. Egypt is terrible. I missed the dreadful weather. I missed my desk job."
"So… you're coming home?"
The four-piece band began to play behind them. The evening's entertainment and a flair for the dramatic, she thought. But she couldn't help the way the music lifted her.
"If there's a place for me."
Since they were stuck with an audience anyway, and Molly had read her fair share of romance books, she did the only thing she could think of and closed the distance between them. Kissing him again felt like home. It was familiar and enticing, and his presence drowned out all but the faintest echoes of applause, wolf whistles, and cameras.
They pulled apart as the music died. "There's always a place for you." Molly surveyed the area, pretending to notice their audience for the first time, and acting embarrassed at the sight of all of them. "As much as I'd hate to miss the food, do you think we can go somewhere else?"
"Anywhere you'd like."