Happy Pride month y'all!
Around three in the afternoon, Harry, Ron, Edward, Fred and George were standing in front of the large white wedding marquee to greet the guests and bring them each to their respective places. Harry had had to drink (much to his regret) a big dose of Polyjuice Potion containing the red hair of a local Muggle boy and introduce himself to everyone as "Cousin Barny". The Weasley family had so many cousins that one more wouldn't be noticed. Harry pouted, however: Ginny wasn't supposed to date "Cousin Barny" or kiss him, much to her dismay. As for Edward, he had been able to stay in his true guise because he was far less well known than Harry.
While waiting for the guests, Edward contemplated the scenery, thinking that it might serve as an example for him when he married Winry in Amestris, (minus the magic stuff): there were rows and rows of fragile golden chairs set on either side of a long purple carpet. The supporting poles were entwined with white and gold flowers. Above where Bill and Fleur would take their wedding vows was a wreath of golden balloons. It was admittedly fancier than the Gothic decorations that Edward would have chosen… Each of the boys wore a dress robe, including Ed who wore a beautiful crimson red one with a black silk bolo tied with a Bloodstone that brought out the blond of his hair and the gold of his eyes.
"When I get married," said Fred, pulling the collar of his blue dress robe. "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."
"I dare you to say that out loud in front of your mother," Edward sneered as he saw Fred turn around in case Mrs. Weasley heard his little provocation.
"She wasn't too bad this morning, considering. Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but who wants him? By the way, she was pretty mad at Charlie who regrew his hair overnight… 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. Soon a procession formed, winding through the flower garden where bees buzzed and butterflies fluttered. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds fluttered on the witches' hats, while precious gems glittered from many of the wizards' cravats. All the people seemed engaged in joyful conversations, having forgotten even the rumors of the war.
"Excellent, I think I see a few veela cousins," said George. "They'll need help understanding our English customs, I'll look after them…"
"Not so fast, Your Holeyness," replied Fred, who was faster than his twin and intercepted the two pretty French girls with a flirtatious accent and rough French. The two girls agreed to follow him and left George looking betrayed with the middle-aged witches. Ron had to take care of Perkins, an old colleague of his father and Harry got a deaf elderly couple. Other veela cousins of Fleur arrived and were escorted by Edward, with whom they exchanged more than flattering comments in French. The blond, blushing furiously, kept telling himself that he was in love with Winry and ended up withdrawing, taking leave of them in impeccable French, to the embarrassed surprise of the two young ladies.
Harry took care of placing the Lupin couple: Tonks seemed to be beaming with happiness while Remus seemed deeply saddened for some reason. He explained that he had had to leave early the day before due to the very anti-werewolf legislation at the moment. In the meantime, Hagrid was causing a bit of a mess by crushing five of the fragile chairs, which now looked like a bunch of golden twigs. Edward, on his part, was pleased to see Mr. Lovegood again. For Harry, he seemed to be the height of eccentricity, even for wizards who were mostly used to it: this was a slightly cross-eyed wizard, 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. My daughter and I live just over the hill, so kind of the good Weasleys to invite us. But I think you know my Luna? She slept over here last night."
"Yes, she was in the garden playing with the gnomes the last time I saw her." Edward replied.
"Indeed, I noticed them. Such a glorious infestation! How few wizards realize just how much we can learn from the wise little gnomes — or, to give them their correct name, the Gernumbli gardensi."
"Indeed. I believe they are here because they can sense the magical waves that cross the countryside better than wizards. If you can find plenty of them, then there is a good chance that you will find a suitable energy line to build a wizarding house." Edward explained.
"Absolutely. A very interesting thesis on the subject, my dear Edward!" Xenophilius exclaimed.
"Ours do know a lot of excellent swear words, but I think Fred and George taught them those." Ron said as he passed with more guests.
"Daddy, look," Luna exclaimed as she came to meet them, "One of the gnomes actually bit me!"
"How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!" said Mr. Lovegood, observing Luna's bloody finger. "Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today- perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish- do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!"
Ron suppressed a sneer but Edward said seriously:
"Maybe there is some truth in what he says, you know. Magical creatures, as I have already explained to you, are closer to the currents of magic... But I think it is possible that they go about it in another way to give their gifts. I noticed for example that the places where they leave their droppings are much more fertile than the other places and the flowers are more resplendent. Perhaps it is a way for them to thank those who welcome them like Mr. Weasley."
"Unbelievable, I have rarely known people with such an open mind as you, Edward! You may have just added a stone to the edifice of Gernumbli magic! They may have a wizarding connection similar to that of the House Elves!"
"Ed, frankly, I would have gladly done without that information!" Ron exclaimed, looking a little disgusted as he left to escort another guest.
"You two look smart." Luna commented, looking at them. "I told Daddy most people would probably wear dress robes, but he believes you ought to wear sun colors to a wedding, for luck, you know."
"It suits you very well!" Edward assured him as Neville, who had just arrived, also nodded in agreement.
At the same instant Ron returned with an old woman with an unpleasant grumpy look hanging on his arm. Her beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and feathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo. She never ceased to award slander to all those who had the misfortune to cross her path. Poor Ron had to put up with the old lady who kept commenting on his attire and style and the redhead seemed on the verge of murder.
She made unpleasant remarks about Harry posing as "Cousin Barny" who, for once, gave thanks to the Polyjuice Potion which he did not have to put up with this madwoman. Edward, meanwhile, got mistaken for a girl because of his braided hair and she scolded him about his small stature. In order not to explode, the Ravenclaw had to leave the marquee and did not return until the shrew had moved away. As for poor Ron, he had to try several chairs before the witch felt satisfied.
About ten minutes later, when the marquee was almost full and there was finally no queue, Ron was able to join them, complaining to their sympathetic ears:
"Nightmare, Muriel is. She used to come for Christmas every year, then, thank God, she took offense because Fred and George set off a Dungbomb under her chair at dinner, though I've always suspected Dad put them up to it for that reason. Dad always says she'll have written them out of her will- like they care, they're going to end up richer than anyone in the family, rate they're going."
Then Hermione arrived and Ron immediately complimented her, declaring that she was gorgeous. Hermione didn't comment except to point out that Aunt Muriel had told her, 'Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?' and then, 'Bad posture and skinny ankles.'
"I'll kill her." Ron muttered, glaring at his great aunt. Concentrating, he snapped his fingers and the chair the old witch was sitting on collapsed suddenly, and she let out a very satisfying yelp for those who had been the target of the old woman's malevolent comments.
"Ron! She's a hundred!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to stifle a small smile as best she could.
"Precisely, at her age, it is high time she learned good manners! The shrew is hateful to everyone."
"Talking about Muriel?" inquired George, reemerging from the marquee with Fred. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat. I wonder how she fell from her chair… Knowing her, she'll probably blame us… I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings."
"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" asked Hermione.
"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end..."
"...But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party. He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his-"
"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry and Ed roared with laughter.
"Never married, for some reason, same as Aunt Muriel," said Ron.
"You amaze me," said Hermione, taking his arm.
This public gesture of affection surprised Ron, at least until he saw the latest arrival. It was Victor Krum, renowned Quidditch star and his former love rival. But despite Krum's compliment to Hermione, Ron overcame his jealous character and offered him a seat, albeit a little coldly. Then he came back to Hermione and hesitantly took her hand on a somewhat possessive impulse. Hermione sighed and said:
"Ronald, you know I love you but that's not a reason to carry a sign saying 'property of Ronald Bilius Weasley.' You have to trust me more!"
"I'm sorry." Ron said, asking for a little kiss from Hermione who finally agreed.
"Hey," said Edward, popping up out of nowhere behind them. "It's not your wedding we're celebrating yet, you lovebirds, so I suggest you find a spot before we get run over by the bride and groom!"
Everyone went to sit in the second row and an atmosphere of feverish expectation spread in the marquee, the hubbub of conversation was occasionally interrupted by bursts of excited laughter. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley made their appearance walking quietly while smiling and waving to people they knew. Then it was time for Bill and his witness, Charlie, to get up; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins.
Then a solemn music rose from the golden balloons and the bride made her appearance under a great collective sigh of the very moved audience. Mr Delacour, with his skipping step, escorted his daughter, followed by her two bridesmaids Ginny and Gabrielle, to the groom. Fleur wore a very simple white dress and seemed to emit a powerful halo of silver light but the latter, instead of overshadowing the beauty of other people, seemed to beautify anyone nearby. Edward thought that this was the real magic of love that didn't demean but revealed the inner beauty of each other. The little wizard who had presided over Dumbledore's funeral then began his speech in a slightly singsong voice.
"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely," Aunt Muriel remarked in a very audible whisper that everyone tried to ignore. "But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut."
The latter gave Harry a resplendent smile before looking in front of her again and Harry felt his mind wander to the blessed moments in the Chamber of Secrets where they met together, him and Ginny, as well as his birthday present…
"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...?"
The mothers of the bride and groom sobbed quietly, moved. Hagrid was making trumpet sounds into his own tablecloth-sized handkerchief. Hermione was staring at Ron beaming, her face bathed in tears and then she stared at Harry, making it clear that she was impatiently waiting for such a moment to come for her and Ron.
"...then I declare you bonded for life."
The presiding wizard raised his wand high above the heads of the intertwined bride and groom and a shower of silvery stars fell on them, circling around their silhouettes. A round of applause rang out, led by Fred and George as the golden balloons erupted; birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.
Everyone then had to get up as the chairs gracefully flew away. 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. A pool of molten gold spread across the center of the tent to form a dance floor with a sparkling surface. Chairs suspended in the air gathered in front of small tables with white tablecloths that fell gracefully to the floor as they arranged themselves around the track. Meanwhile, musicians in golden jackets made their appearance as waiters walked through the assembly offering silver platters laden with tasty food and drinks.
"Smooth," said Ron approvingly.
"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," Ron said as he took several drinks.
"Ron, I have a bad feeling. Let's do it now, please?" Hermione asked, a worried crease on her forehead.
The four young wizards therefore went to offer their most sincere congratulations to the delighted couple and then, on Ron's advice, they left to sit with Luna, Neville and Ginny, as far as possible from Aunt Muriel. They chatted for a few moments about the ceremony before Bill and Fleur opened the ball. Neville asked Luna to dance, which she agreed to, although she danced very differently from the other dancers who were much more conventional. Ron invited Hermione to dance by bowing in front of her and they set off on the dance floor, as far as possible from Victor Krum who had just appeared at their table. Ginny, meanwhile, dragged Harry into a frenzied whirlwind and the young man let himself be led, almost relieved. Edward then noticed he was left alone, alongside a belligerent Krum.
"Are they together now?" The Bulgarian Seeker asked, pointing at Ron and Hermione.
"Yes, since last year. But I have the impression that that's not what interests you." Edward replied.
"That is true. You know that man?" He said pointing to Xenophilius Lovegood.
"Yes, he's an eccentric character but he wouldn't hurt a fly, why?" Edward asked, a little defensive.
"Because, if he vos not a guest of Fleur's, I vould duel him, here and now because of the sign he wears. That circle in a triangle with a line in the middle is the emblem of Grindelvald. He killed many people- my grandfather, for instance. Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it onto their books and clothes, thinking to shock, make themselves impressive - until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better."
"Listen, I know Xenophilius Lovegood a bit and I can assure you that he is not a supporter of the Dark Arts or of the ideas of Grindelwald. But maybe Grindelwald borrowed a little-known symbol that originally had another meaning to make it say what he thinks. It happened during the Nazi period among Muggles: Hitler borrowed the swastika symbol from Asian mythology and twisted it into his symbol of hatred. Suddenly, Westerners who visit Asia are always surprised to see symbols resembling it in books or in the streets because for them it is an evil emblem. Do you understand?"
"I don't know Muggles vell but I think I understand your explanation." Krum said solemnly. "But still, seeing this symbol at a vedding makes me shudder."
"I am sorry. But if you knew Mr. Lovegood, you would know that there is no man more open than him. Maybe you should talk to him about it to understand what this symbol really is. It looks familiar to me, too…" Edward said thoughtfully.
"Uh, excuse me," interrupted Harry, who had just appeared next to them, addressing Krum, "I just remembered a few moments ago… But do you know of Gregorovitch?"
"Yes, he's a vand maker but he's been retired for years. I got one of his last vands. Vhy?"
"Oh, nothing," Harry replied hastily. "It's just that since our wand maker, Ollivander, disappeared…"
"I see." Krum replied in a tone that indicated that he understood what it meant.
Harry glanced at Edward to see if he was thinking the same as him: Edward, after all, had witnessed the bizarre phenomenon with his wand. His holly and phoenix feather wand had defeated the one Voldemort had borrowed, something Ollivander had neither foreseen nor understood. Would Gregorovitch know more? Did he know any secrets about wands that Ollivander would ignore, despite being the British expert in magic wands?
"The girl you were dancing vith is very pretty," Krum remarked. "Is she from your family too?" He asked Harry.
"You're quite nice but I already have someone." Ginny said, smiling, while giving Harry a discreet glance who seemed reassured. The two young wizards left for a corner of the tent while Krum and Edward remained together again.
"Vot is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?"
"If you want, I can introduce you to the Veela I took to their seats earlier…" Edward offered.
"No thank you. I know the Veela vell and if they are like in my country, then you have to be careful of their bad temper… They can become real harpies at any time." Krum said with a suspicious smile.
"Of course, if you put it that way... If you want, I can introduce you to Xenophilius Lovegood so you can sort out your differences." Edward sighed, hoping the conversation didn't turn sour.
"Excuse me," began Edward Elric, "Viktor Krum here wanted to find out about the true origin of the symbol you're wearing around your neck-"
"With us in the eastern countries it is the symbol of the Dark Lord Grindelvald and I vas vondering vhy you were wearing it." Krum interrupted gravely.
"Oh, you mean the Deathly Hallows sign? No, you needn't worry, this symbol existed for a long time already before the Dark wizard Grindelwald," reassured Mr. Lovegood with gesticulating hands. "The latter appropriated it to symbolize the fact that he believed himself conqueror of Death, which was absurd because in the logic of the Deathly Hallows, the victor over Death is the one who accepts his own mortality."
"So this symbol isn't about Dark magic?" Krum asked, still wary as he stared at the symbol like one would stare at a snake or a scorpion.
"There is nothing Dark about the Hallows- at least, not in that crude sense. Afterwards, as you say, a certain Dark wizard was able to seize this symbol, either because he really believed in it, or that there was something else in this sign. But for a true believer, this sign is worn in the hope that they can help with the Quest. If you want to know more, please come to my place, I could gladly discuss it with you. Moreover, we find the story of the Deathly Hallows in The Tales of Beedle the Bard, like how wisdom can be found in the small, seemingly insignificant things." Xenophilius Lovegood said.
Edward looked up at the very familiar name of the book. Could it be that Dumbledore believed this story? Then he shrugged: it could be as likely as it was not, Dumbledore was eccentric enough to believe in a child's tale but smart enough to discern right from wrong. Deep down he didn't know, but Edward assumed he would learn everything in due course.
Seeing Veela begin to glance at him, Ed left before they got hold of him and left poor Krum in their company. He wandered around the dance floor and decided to have a little fun by spinning Luna around for a few minutes to the music. Then he saw Harry with a very old man and Aunt Muriel.
The young Alchemist approached the group silently and unnoticed and listened to the way the odious old woman went about destroying the good image that Elphias Doge and Harry had of Dumbledore. She obviously took immense pleasure in quoting the article by Rita Skeeter, dissecting the hopes and illusions of her two interlocutors through her backbiting like a child tearing off the wings of a fly, taking on a slightly sadistic glee that deeply disgusted Edward.
Muriel was particularly talking about Dumbledore's sister, Ariana, insinuating that she had been a Squib and that her family had locked her in the basement to hide their shame. She spoke so badly about Kendra Dumbledore and her son that Edward couldn't help but feel a deep disgust for the hideous old lady. He was convinced that Aunt Muriel would never have dared to speak like this during Dumbledore's lifetime and her backbiting about the dead was simply intolerable:
"Now, if Kendra hadn't died first, I'd have said that it was she who finished off Ariana!" Aunt Muriel finished in a triumphant tone, satisfied to have ground the others into the dirt.
Now Edward didn't like Dumbledore all that much: he had always found him too manipulative and sometimes arrogant for his taste. He was also very angry with him for hiding from Harry that he was a Horcrux and not daring to tell him the truth. However, Edward, who had had Trisha Elric as his mother, couldn't believe that Dumbledore's mother would have allowed her daughter to be locked in the basement under the pretext that she was a Muggle. Perhaps there was some truth to Aunt Muriel's gossip, but in Edward's opinion, speaking ill of the dead was just contemptible and he said so out loud:
"You are despicable, madam, for daring to sully the memory of the dead when they can no longer defend themselves. It's cowardly and disgusting!"
Elphias Doge seemed relieved to see someone finally come to his aid and Harry seemed happy to find his friend's firm and wise tone again.
"Oh, it's not staining people's memories when it's telling the truth!" Aunt Muriel exclaimed, furious to be talked back to by a young person.
"I doubt, madam, that you know what the truth is. Even if there is some truth in what you say, the falseness of your heart would prevent anyone from distinguishing right from wrong." Edward said defiantly.
"Oh, I know Rita Skeeter has proof. I'm sure she spoke to Bathilda Bagshot, an old friend of the Dumbledores who has followed the case from start to finish. She might be totally gaga lately, but I'm sure she still has old photos and letters, plus Miss Skeeter has some surefire ways to rekindle people's memories! What do you say about that, eh?"
"The end should not justify the means and the truth should not legitimize the means used by this journalist to achieve her ends. Telling half truths does not make it true. If this woman was really doing her job, she would start by telling the truth about what is happening in our world at war instead of slandering the dead who can no longer defend themselves. If she really wanted to know, she only had to question Dumbledore's brother." Edward said firmly.
"You are talking about a man who performed forbidden spells on goats when he lived in Godric's Hollow!"
Harry was more than surprised to learn that the Dumbledores had lived in the same place as his parents and he sat in his thoughts, silently, disregarding Aunt Muriel's gossip. Edward put his hand on his shoulder without saying anything but still giving him his unconditional support. They were soon joined by Hermione who informed them that Ron had gone to look for Butterbeers. She asked, worried if Harry was feeling alright but 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 voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt:
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
Translator's notes: I actually was translating this shortly after Prince Phillip kicked the bucket and Imma just say (while Muriel's gossip and backbiting is wholly unjustified wrt Kendra and Ariana) if you don't want to be shit talked in death don't be a piece of shit in life.