I was happily sitting in Georges lap petting Snowball, who seemed eager to roam around, while he did my hair for me. the house was ominously, but comfortably quiet.

"are you excited for the wedding?" George asked quietly as he continued to braid my hair into a bun.

"Of course, but I'm not looking forward to the questions about where we've been, are you?" I as and turn just enough to look at Georges expressions. Snowball even turned her head to watch George.

"Absolutely, It'll be a lot of fun. Though we'll have to say we ran away to France, I don't think 'we've been hiding at Azraels father's place, you know the dark lord? yeah he's pretty chill' will go down well with my family" George laughed and put the final pins into my hair. I laugh softly in response and kiss George's cheek.

"Oh Georgie, how will your parents ever cope?" I say quietly, George and i sit there contently. We stare into each others eyes in comfortable silence, not daring to move for fear this moment will be ripped away from us before we can get enough. "will it always be like this? running between our family, escaping to our own world?" I whisper to him, caressing his soft red hair. Just as he was about to answer Molly came in, I guess she finally realised she didn't know where we've been for the past few months.

"Where HAVE you been!?" Mrs Weasley screeched after she came to her senses. The woman ran over to us, her face as red as her hair, Mrs Weasley pulled George and I into tight hug. Snowball jumped away with a hiss, she ran off to explore, being sure to flick her tail discontentedly at us.

"I'm sorry Mrs Weasley, we've been in France trying to recover." I say softly and pull up my shirt to expose the hideous scare along my side from where I was hit as I tried to get away.

"Oh dear... I'm so sorry" Mrs Weasley whines looking at the scar, her eyes tracing how the skin folded over itself.

"It's alright really, nothing too seriously wrong." I state and wrap my arms around George. "How's the Wedding going? everyone almost ready?"

"yeah, come lets go into the marquee" Mrs Weasley said and gently pushed me towards the outside. As we walked towards the large tent like structure I noticed behind Harry, the entrance to the marquee revealed rows and rows of fragile golden hairs set on either side of a long purple supporting poles are entwined with white and gold flowers. Fred and George had fastened an enormous bunch of golden balloons over the exact point where Bill and Fleur would shortly become husband and wife. Outside, butterflies and bees were hovering lazily over the grass and hedgerow. I wandered over to Fred and George, they had finished hanging the balloons.

"When I get married," said Fred, tugging at the collar of his own robes, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like,and I'll put a full Body Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

"She wasn't too bad this morning, considering," said George. "Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but who wants him? Oh blimey, brace yourselves—here they come, look."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 man 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," I said and pushed Fred their way, we watched him dart past the gaggle of middle-aged witches heading the procession, he said, "Here—permettez-moi toassiter vous," to a pair of pretty French girls, who giggled and allowed him to escort them inside. I laugh softly and kiss George's cheek.

"When we get married we aren't having this much fuss. something simple." I say softly and kiss Georges shredded ear lightly.

"And what do you suppose we do? What Fred suggested and tie my mother up?" George laughed kissing my forehead and wrapping his arms around my waist. We moved slowly, dancing to an inaudible music supplied by the sound of our heart beats. Our gaze never fell from each others eyes as we had had a silent conversation that in the end it didn't matter what happened as we'd always be committed to each other.

"You must be Azrael" a gruff yet sweet voice said behind me, I turned to have a wand pointed at my throat, a werewolf (going by his smell) on the other end. I couldn't help but let my insanity take over for an instant. My eyes darkened and my hair fell in front of my face, I smiled a cruel smile sending shivers down the were wolfs back. "And you would be?" My sickeningly sweet voice asks in a taunting manner. I werewolf flinched, the ambient noises of the venue being set up had stopped, all eyes bore into the two of us.

"Lupin, Remus Lupin. What are you doing here? Daughter of he-who-must-not-be-named. This caused me to cock my head to one side, my twisted smile never faltering. I gently put my finger on lupin's wand and delicately push it to the side. I swing my arm, with a loud crack my fist connected with his jaw.

"Don't ever, ever point your wand at me again. I'm here to celebrate my soon to be brother-in-law's marriage to the pretentious brat Fluer Delacour. I would appreciate if next time you thought things through like maybe 'Hm she's dancing with one of the twins so she must be a friend or at the very least 'she hasn't attacked anyone yet, she probably isn't here for evil'" I grumbled and walked away, Lupin was on the floor stunned, nobody said a word, but nobody stopped watching either. I sauntered to the drink table and poured a small glass of punch, kneeling in front of the werewolf I offer the glass, my grip as delicate as a lily.

"Nymphadora is pregnant isn't she? I'd hate to kill the baby's father, we're distantly related you know." I say finally, smiling slyly. Lupin takes the glass cautiously and drinks slowly. My smile softens as I stand up and lean into Georges arms. Pulling his arms around me I relax. "Please don't be so judgmental, I'm sure you know how that feels in your condition. Do onto others what you want done onto you and all." I smile and everyone reluctantly returns to their own conversations. the cheerful music had begun again. I looked around the marquee and my eyes landed on non other than Viktor Krum with a short, pudgy, red-curly haired boy showing him his seat.

"You friend is not pleased to see me," said Krum as he entered the now packed marquee. "Or is he a relative?" he added with a glance at the boy's red curly hair.

"Cousin," The boy 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, and Fred came hurrying down the aisle.

"Time to sit down, " Fred told George and I, "or we're going to get run over by thebride." Fred, George, and I sat in the row in front of Hermione, Ron, and Ron's supposed cousin. Hermione looked rather pink and Ron's ears were still scarlet. 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 wear-ing 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 large 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, swivelling around in her seat to look at the en-trance. 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 dresses and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everyone it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not as though he hadever met Fenrir Greyback.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Harry saw the same small, tufty-haired 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 sets off the whole thing nicely," said a rather obnoxious woman in a rather carrying whisper. "But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut." Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at someone in our direction, then quickly faced the front again.

"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 and beamed at Harry; her eyes too were full of tears.

" ...then I declare you bonded for life."

The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand 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 tuft-haired wizard. "If you would please stand up!"

They all did so, the obnoxious woman grumbling audibly; he waved his wand again. The seats on which they had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that they stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs groped themselves around small white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden-jacketed hand trooped toward a podium.

"Smooth," said Ron approvingly as the waiters popped up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhisky, other tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches. I smiled at George happily and gently kissed his lips.

"That'll be us soon huh?" George said, a nervous quiver in his voice.

"Hopefully" I say with a smile, delicately I take Georges hand in my own and pull him to the dance floor. his arms wrapped around my waist as mine wrapped loosely around his neck, the sun was setting and the music dying. Fred had long since disappeared into the darkness with a pair of Fleur's cousins; Charlie, Hagrid, and a squat wizard in a purple porkpie hat were singing 'Odo the Hero" in a corner. George and I happily swayed to the music, occasionally looking around to see Luna and Ginny dancing, Viktor Krum looking lustfully at the pair of them.

"I love you" I say softly and kiss George tenderly on the cheek. Just as he was about to reply 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."

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

"The Ministry has fallen."

"Scrimgeour is dead."

"They are coming."