The regular disclaimer stays I only own the AU and OC, the rest is borrowed from JKR's world. (gasd)
Chapter 32
The Ministry of Magic had taken into account the unique case of Daphne Greengrass. Though the girl had been otherwise unhurt. "But she is too traumatized with her recent assault, I would implore to the Ministry of Magic to reconsider this particular case and allow the intended couple to have a closed-door marriage ceremony. If they would ignore this and expose the frightened girl to a crowd and to those flashbulbs, they must also prepare to cause unwarranted damage and take the blame of it." A very irate Healer who had come all the way from 's had warned the panel of ministry officials without giving a knut to how that might affect her career.
Thus, it was fixed the Seamus Finnigan would marry Daphne Greengrass late in the afternoon when the ministry was closed for the day and much of the crowd had felt for their individual homes. In addition to the intended bride and the groom the ministry had allowed only two immediate relations to attend the ceremony. That was how George Weasley that found himself standing beside Astoria Greengrass, whom he was to marry soon after, they had sent off the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan. Astoria had helped a bewildered Daphne into the ceremonial tunic, while George had stood beside the small enclosure where Seamus was getting his attire straight.
The Irish man had been beyond himself, muttering ever since they had been summoned up into the special section where such closed-door marriages were going to be conducted. "Bloody hell, I am getting married, and I don't have a ring for my bride! Merlin, on my mum grave, I swear, I thought of a fancy week-long wedding, not a sign of and kiss short cut! These, this is a farce, I am supposed to be wearing this flimsy thing, here of all places…"
George had smirked and had tried too hard to laugh at the expense of the good-natured fellow Gryffindor. Yelling through the partition, he had mocked, "Oh Shut it, Seamus, you got goods, so you can show them off."
Swinging the door open a very red on the face, Seamus had retaliated crossly, "I prefer my wife or my girlfriend sees me, thank you and not the entire ministry of magic." Dean Thomas had walked from behind a grinned George and had shoved a heavy bundle through the half-open door, "Stop acting like a girl, get those on, they are robes, and some of them are other kinds of stuff for your wife, Hannah Abbott was thoughtful enough to bring them along, remember to thank her you dolt before leaving for your sweet home." George had turned and had asked, "SWEET HOME?"
"Yup, the man lives over a bakery, his rooms smell of vanilla and cocoa all the time, "winking back, Thomas had walked away to check on the Greengrass girls. The man in question had finally walked out, giving George a shrug, so that he could change into his attire as well. "You know he is right, I would give you the specifics later on, once we figure things out, so that, you get it, right?"
"For Astoria…"
"Yah…for Daphne."
Astoria had tried to keep calm. Helping Daphne out of her clothes and then easing her into those shimmering ceremonial tunics, she thought, she missed mother more than anything. She was getting married. And so was Daphne. The girl in front of her had twirled a bit, holding the soft cloth in her hand, and Astoria couldn't stop those tears threatening to blow up her calm persona. Slowly gathering her sister in her arms, she had whispered into her ears, "Daph, trust Seamus, as you have in all these days, and remember I am only a floo call away, these are the good ones, they know how to love and to take care of their own, I will miss you, sis."
Daphna had not uttered a word in reply, but she had simply hugged her tighter, patting her back and then when she had walked away, a step, the younger sister hand helped her wipe her tears.
Astoria was a little hurt to see the very first time her sister had spoken after all these days was a word, they would all associate with Seamus Finnigan. Right after the man had placed a careful chaste kiss right on her curiously staring sister's lips, Daph had looked up in awe…and had mumbled the word, "Iris…?" It was funny to watch Finnigan turn red. That man could blush in a way that would surpass even the coyest girls Astoria had met in her life. And with that they had left. She had tried hard not to whimper, but George had playfully bumped her shoulder. It was time for them to undergo the same process.
When they had both apparated near the famous Weasley Burrow, the accompanying aurors had just allowed them to cross the protective wards and had apparated away. It had been the night before the full moon, and the pale hue of the moonlight had given the lone standing shapeless house an eerie persona. She knew, it was late, even for dinner. That's it? She had thought to herself. George Weasley had not said a word after the ceremony. During it he had simply spoken out when asked to, but she could feel the man was sincere when he had repeated his vows, the ones that had initiated this ancient binding spell, they all have been relying on. But she had certain, this Weasley twin was yet to fly off the cliff. And she had felt it when they had kissed, though his lips had just brushed against her, his firm grip on her hands had tightened in desperation.
Opening the front door, the tall man had chuckled dryly, "Home, or whatever is left off it!" in grief, he had been employing cynicism. In the morning when he had managed to drag himself into the shower, he had yelled at the wall for a good measure. He wanted Fred to be beside him, he wanted Mum and Dad. But they were gone! He had doubted the ministry's choice. Astoria Greengrass to become a Weasley. How easily had she taken up the task to act like an intended wife? Seducing him, smiling at him, though not being to obvious about it…but he would think ten times before relying on a Slytherin. Old habits die hard. His sister was trapped in a marriage now, and so was he. He would have to tread carefully. These days you never know, who among them was a planted spy of the werewolf alpha?
Ginny had been thoughtful enough to leave a decent meal ready. The poor girl had taken it upon herself to manage the household, even while grieving over her one-sided love for Harry. George would find it hard to say something to her, instead, they had brought out a few of Daddy's Muggle contraptions- a music box and a barely function TIFI. Those would play muggle songs like the wizardry radio they had. As for the TIFI, that one showed moving images, the muggles called them movies. There was a late afternoon segment where a hilarious small man with too large clothes and a brush mustache would do absolutely nerve crackling things. But without dialogues. This Caplin guy had managed to lift up the siblings' dwindling spirits…
He had turned to his exploring wife, "Umm, you would like a tour of this…" Astoria had sensed his uneasiness. She had quietly replied, "I am hungry."
George had looked up at her in shock as if she had just grown a new head out of nowhere. "Hungry? oh, yeah, well there would be some surely." He had walked up to the kitchen, with Astoria in tow. He has used to having Ginny around, pattering about the whole space, following him just like she had done as a toddler. But having Astoria around him had made him suddenly aware of things. The swish of her robes that were still on her. She would not stomp about, instead actually walk, like a ballerina. The twins had discovered that word when the Veela girls had explained several dance moves to them. That was funny actually, when all they had wanted to dance and kiss those girls, they had to endure they ceaseless chattering about dainty toes and whatnot. "The plates…?" "Over the counter beside the window…cutlery in the drawer beside the oven…mind the shelf door, that is tricky…"
He had brought out some of the cold dishes, a one-pot meal and had got the freshly baked loaf from the bread box. Settling on the table that had once housed several members of the boisterous family, he had sighed. Astoria had looked up from her place, sitting opposite to her new husband. He was struggling not to fall apart, for his own sake, and had tried to offer a word of consolation, though she had softly said, "Bon appetite."
He had smirked, a corner of his lips lifting up just a bit, and had dug into his food, but throughout the meal he had looked over his shoulder, over a cabinet on the far end of the room. He was thirsty, he was parched, and he would not be able to carry on this homely facade for long. He needed a drink, just one drink, to calm his mind, to keep those hallucinations away. He needed to keep sane to tackle the witch sitting across and smiling at him now and then. He had felt suspicion clouding his judgment, who was she? Astoria Greengrass…no…who then…a consummate death eater…who else could she have been a daughter of the sympathizer of the dark side would always be inclined to the pull of Dark Magic?
Finding it hard to gulp down anymore, he had swiftly got up and had walked up to the cabinet. Opening it swiftly, he had brought out a bottle of Firewhiskey, had taken out a tumbler and had filled it up to the brim. Downing the whole thing at one go, he had poured himself another, shaking his head, trying to fend off those memories, Fred's dead face, Ron's mangled body. Percy's burnt…soft hands had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had plucked away his half-empty glass. He had whirled towards the culprit ready to punch the assailant right on the face. And Astoria had shouted back, "That is enough George Weasley, come back to your senses this minute..."
He had snarled at her, nosy witch as if she owns him like she has bought him, his right to do as hie wishes…" Or what? What will you do, curse me, Huh!" He had grabbed her up the arms and had pushed her against the wall. How could they assume, he was the man to be tamed by a sophisticated, prime and proper witch? Astoria had been shocked by the sudden change in her husband's behavior, but she was a Slytherin. She had succeeded in knocking her head hard enough to give him a bloody nose, her wand had been under her dress, a disadvantage of this tunic.
George had let go of her hands, but now before ripping them at their shoulder seems and had held on to his bleeding nose, "Merlin saggy pants, what did you snakes do in your dungeon butt heads!" The fireplace had chimed and moments later, Ginny's urgent voice had echoed around the house, "GEORGE! GEORGIE, WHERE ARE YOU! ITS MALFOY, he…HE IS HURT, HE IS NOT MOVING! GEORGE!"
A/N: Thoughts, if you can spare some...
