Wedding Frenzy

Moire finally opened her eyes after the longest night of her life. After her late night flying with James, she returned to the room she shared with Lily and Rose, a small smile on her face, her scarf smelling of pine and citrus, and a warm feeling in her stomach that she blamed on the half emptied out bottle in her hand. Her smile had faded into horror when she had realized that she had not brought the potion for dreamless sleep she had brewed right before heading to the Burrow, meaning her night was a series of relatively hot and sweaty dreams of a certain Gryffindor Quidditch captain. She extracted herself out of bed and tip-toed to the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth before remembering she didn't need to hide out in the room anymore since she wouldn't be the only one up at that time. Did she really want to see James after the night she had just had? It might not have been her best idea. But she was starving, and the girls would sleep for another two or three hours before Mrs. Weasley decided to wake the whole house up for wedding preparations. After she was done in the bathroom, Moire made her way down to the kitchen, and no surprise there, James was enjoying a cup of tea.

"That is way too much milk in that tea, Potter," she commented.

His head turned around and he took in all of her, an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Moire asked, taking a spot in front of him and pouring herself some tea.

"First of all, you look like you had an awful night…," he started.

"Gee, thanks, Potter. Just what every girl wants to hear. But for your information I get nightmares and forgot my potion at home…"

"I bet," James said, still eyeing her strangely as she sat down in front of him.

"It's too early for your weird crap, Potter, what's the look for?" The redhead sighed, pouring herself some tea.

"That's my shirt," he simply said, a small, amused smile making its way to his face.

She almost dropped the milk and looked down. She was wearing the oversized black shirt with the muggle band on it, the one she could not remember the origin of. She had initially shrugged it off, thinking it had been from an old boyfriend, but slowly she remembered where it had come from.

"Are you kidding?!"

"Nope. It's from when Al and Scorpius stole your trunk and you needed something to sleep in," he smirked. "I was wondering where it went."

"I am so sorry! I meant to return it, but I must've forgotten it and I probably threw it in my trunk and packed more things on top when I went to Russia!" She explained, a mortified expression on her face.

James didn't look upset, however, and he laughed good-naturedly.

"That's okay. It looks better on you than it does on me anyways."

She choked on her tea. She was still coughing when Hermione came down the stairs, eyebrow raised at the two of them sitting at the same table, the sky still dark outside, Moire looking flustered and James still smirking.

oOo

As soon as she was showered and dressed in a pair of sturdy looking jeans and a practical grey sweater, she had immediately put her hair up in a neat ponytail and had grabbed her wand. She rolled her sleeves as soon as Mrs. Weasley had started imparting tasks and with a flawless execution, the broom was sweeping the room while she was helping Lily change the sheets and pillowcases in each room. Lily was babbling away about the house her grandparents had built. When her parents were still young, apparently, the house had five floors and an attic. Two extra floors had been magically added to the house and more space was created when the Weasley children had started having kids of their own. According to Lily, who had been told by her mother, the rooms had also been made bigger. The kitchen table had previously not been big enough to hold everyone but since the kitchen was renovated, two other tables had been added. They were mismatched but didn't seem out of place. The Burrow was a crowded house full of knick-knacks that made Moire feel instantly at home. She listened to her little protegee with a genuine smile on her face, as the broom danced around them and collected the dust in a corner of the room that she made disappear before the two of them left for another room.

"I have got to say, Moire, your household spells are quite flawless," Molly had complimented.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure my mother will be happy to know I remembered her lessons."

While the Laird had grown up in a very affluent environment, always waited on by house elves, her mother was born and raised in a simple wizarding family in Inverness. Both her grandparents had been Ministry employees and there were no house elves to clean up or cook for them, so her mother had learned household spells from her own mother and had made sure to impart them to her daughter.

"What are these two doing again?" She heard Ginny say as Lily and her got to the kitchen. "They're supposed to clear the garden, not fling snowballs at each other."

Ginny and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table, neck deep in centerpieces, and Ginny was peeking out of the window to check up on Fred and James.

"We probably shouldn't have paired them up together," Hermione sighed.

"We're done in the rooms," Lily announced.

"Thanks darlings. Would you two mind helping us with these? They're a pain. Rose is joining us in a bit, she's just hanging up the tablecloths in the laundry room."

"Sure, what are we doing?" Moire asked. The table was cluttered with clear vases, white camellias, pine needles and pinecones, a bowl magical snow that didn't melt, and some white and gold ribbon.

"Well, we're making little bouquets of camellias and pinecones, putting them in the vase with a whole bunch of needles, then some snow on it, you tie the ribbon in a bow around the vase, and then you charm it to make it last," James' mum explained.

The two girls sat down at the table and got started.

"These are the worst," Hermione complained. "We've been at them all morning and we're still not done."

"I already told everyone to join us when they're done with their chores, they need to be finished today. I'm not spending another day on these, we still need to start the party favors, set up the weather charm if the boys are ever done with the garden, the de-gnoming, setting up the seating area and the altar, and so many other things."

"It might be more efficient to make a line when we have a couple more people," Moire thought out loud, trying not to let the smell of the pine needles get her distracted

"What's that, dear?" Ginny asked, engrossed in the thoughts of how many tasks were left.

"Like those Muggle production lines. Where each person has a specific task. So, for example, the first person would make a bouquet of camellias and pinecones, pass it to the second person who would tie it with the pine needles, and so on."

"That's genius," Hermione declared. "We can even make more than one line when we have more people, so this goes faster."

Moire's cheeks tinted red at being complimented by the Minister of Magic herself.

"We're done outside!" Fred exclaimed, walking in through the door and taking his scarf and jacket off.

"We saw you two playing two seconds ago, how are you even done?" Hermione asked, shaking her head. "And wipe your shoes before you get this kitchen floor all wet!"

"Don't underestimate us, Aunt 'Mione!"

"While you're here, sit down and help us out," Ginny directed, which was immediately answered with complaints.

"Potter, Weasley, sit your butts down, or we'll be here all day," the Slytherin girl instructed in her most authoritative voice and her best glare.

With satisfaction, she saw a brief flash of fear in their eyes before they immediately obeyed. James ended up between Lily and her, and Moire was way too aware of his presence.

"Alright, we'll just go in order then," Hermione declared before assigning everyone tasks.

There was some shuffling around to keep the line-up in as much order as possible, because no one trusted the chaotic Fred with forming a proper bow with a ribbon or with the delicate decorating with the snow, and somehow, Moire still ended up next to James. Her senses were heightened and the pine smell around the room, coming from two different sources, was getting to her brain. She placed the camellias as close to her as possible so their perfume would overpower it but to no avail. She eventually gave up and let the scent consume her, and while she was convinced that she was going to faint at first, a content feeling sat in the depths of her stomach and a warmth spread through her chest. She passed a bouquet of camellia flowers with pinecones on their branch to James, who surrounded them with beautiful bunches of pine needles and tied them with a gentleness she didn't know he had. The chatter was light, and soon, Charlie and Bill walked in, carrying baskets of mistletoe.

"Xeno Lovegood insisted on giving these to us when we went to pick up the flower crowns Luna made for the bridesmaids. So, I guess we're hanging up mistletoe in the house," Charlie said.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," James let out in a low groan, and she could just imagine the rumbling of his chest that the noise would cause.

"Please, don't let George enchant it again, the first time that happened Ted and Vic couldn't even be in the same room without turning into tomatoes for a week," Ginny sighed.

"Well, look where we are now," Hermione responded, a small amused smirk on the side of her face.

"Their first kiss was under the mistletoe," James whispered in her ear. "Uncle George charmed it when we had a party with family and friends, so there would be a magical barrier around it until the people under it kissed. Pretty sure Teddy was in third year and Vic was in second year, I think, and Mum said it was the time they were just starting to realize they liked each other so they were all shy and she's convinced to this day that they would've gotten together faster had they not been rushed. Man, they blushed and couldn't make direct eye contact for about six months after that kiss."

"I'd say that worked out well for them," she commented in the same tone with a small smirk.

A quick, uninvited picture of a mistletoe branch hanging over the two of them came to her mind and she almost combusted in place.

"Are you alright, dear? You look flushed," Mrs. Weasley, who had walked in after Bill and Charlie had, asked in a worried tone.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, thank you," she replied, her face feeling warm. "Just a little warm all of a sudden."

After assuring everyone that she was alright, she went back to her task. Eventually, the single line turned into two lines as they were joined by Albus, Scorpius, Rose, Ron, Dominique, and George, and the number of centerpieces doubled. The mood was light while the rest of the household was going about their tasks, the twelve of them working like a well-oiled machine and soon enough they were done with their project.

"I don't understand why we couldn't use magic for that," Fred complained.

"Because some things are better done by hand, Freddie," his grandmother answered, stirring a pot of jam and turning off the heat with her wand.

"All I know is that I'm using a wand for the party favors, there's no way I'm scooping all that jam into mini jars myself," Ginny whispered to Hermione, who stifled a laugh.

"What are we doing for party favors?" Dom asked.

"Little jars of Gran's persimmons jam, I think," Rose answered, to which her mother nodded.

"But we can start on those tomorrow, for now, we still need some people to start sorting through the presents and someone to fold the tablecloths and napkins that Rose left to dry. Hermione, dear, could you help Arthur with the weather charm outside?"

The protective weather bubble around the property would prevent too much snow from accumulating, only letting a thin layer remain for the wedding. The people responsible for installing the tent and the altar would be there the next day, and she had volunteered to help take the chairs inside of it. Mrs. Weasley had preferred people of age doing so as they could use magic, even though with as many wizards as there was in the house, their underaged counterparts would not easily be tracked. Louis would be helping her. Of course, she knew him just as well as she knew the rest of the Weasley-Potter cousins since he had only finished Hogwarts the year before, but she had only talked to him in group settings. It would be quite an interesting experience.

Getting up from her seat as Ginny levitated the many centerpieces out of the room, she stretched her left arm behind her shoulder before grabbing her wand and cleaning the table with a flick of it. She then stuck it in her hair, right under the tight hair tie that held her ponytail up, and after a quick lunch with the rest of the Weasley-Potter family, she headed to the laundry room to do some folding. Seeing that her little protegee had gone to sort presents with Molly, Lucy, and Hugo, she turned to the one she had considered the bane of her existence for many years. Oh, if only her third-year self could see her now.

"I'm going to need some help with the folding, especially the long sheets. Are you coming?"

"Lead the way, McLeoch," James answered with a smile.

The next hour was spent folding the smaller napkins. Teddy and Victoire, thankfully, had wished to keep it relatively small, so the party consisted mainly of friends and family, and considering how may of those the Weasleys and the Potters had, it was a miracle that the guest list had only been about a hundred and fifty guests. After those were safely tucked away, they moved onto the bigger tablecloths that they had to cooperate on. There had only been twenty-five of those, as each one of the round tables could hold about six people, but one person couldn't fold it on their own so they each had needed to grab two corners. The first time her fingers accidentally touched James', she had almost dropped the sheet. It had felt like a static shock and a shiver at the same time.

Moire kept her expression level, but inside, she was cursing herself. Sure, she had touched James before. When he had taken her to the Hospital wing, when they spent time together, on their little flying sessions. They had been high fives, friendly punches to the arm, pats on the shoulder, and recently hugs. But for some reason, brushing his fingers with hers had felt different, almost like a stolen moment, far from the noise and lively presence of the Weasley-Potter family, like their own little bubble. It took her a second to realize she was still holding onto the white and gold tablecloth and they were still standing in the same position they were in before. James had a strange look in his hazel eyes, one that she couldn't really decipher. Strange, they looked more like honey than they did hazel this close to him.

"What is it?" He blurted out, and it took Moire a little while to realize he had talked.

"W-what is what?"

"Your perfume. Or shampoo. Or whatever it is that you use. I can't put my finger on it."

Moire chuckled. It wasn't funny per say, but she could tell how embarrassed he was to even ask, and was that red on his cheeks?

"Bergamot," she answered.

"Oh. It… um… it smells nice."

She burst in uncontrollable laughter at that.

"Wow, smooth Potter! Don't you have half of the girls at Hogwarts at your feet? With those skills?"

"Hey, in my defense, I've only dated one other girl before, and that didn't last long! You're the one who can sweet talk any guy!"

"That, I can," she said, wiping a tear of laughter at the corner of her eye. "I haven't in a while, though. Not since the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff last month. And before that, I hadn't gotten with anyone since that one Ravenclaw guy in September."

The previous heavy, electric mood had returned. He had a strange look in his eyes.

"Why?" He simply asked.

She honestly didn't know why. And she was going to tell him so. But as she opened her mouth, what came out was different.

"I realized I didn't want to anymore."

He was still looking at her the same way but didn't say anything, which prompted her to say more.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't regret the past few years. Judge me if you will, but it was what I needed. After all the breakups and the heartbreak, it felt good to learn how to be involved with someone, but I wanted to do it from afar, you know? Not only that, but I learned more about my own body. Unlike popular belief, however, I didn't sleep with as many guys as I've been given credit for. Really, for all the ones I've been rumored to have shagged, I can count the ones I actually did on my hands. And it's helped me realize I did deserve to be treated well in a relationship. But, it's almost like I'm done learning. And now…"

"And now…?" He repeated, his voice lower than usual.

He was close and they were still looking at each other, not moving.

Suddenly, she had the overwhelming desire for him to just wrap his arms around his waist, pull her closer, and kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore. She wanted to run her hand through his dark hair, mess it up more than it already was, and every single inch of her skin was buzzing, itching for him to just –

A plate broke in the kitchen, followed by Ron letting out a curse, and Mrs. Weasley chastising her adult son. Just like that, the spell of the room was broken and Moire just knew she wouldn't get much sleep that night either. She turned around and grabbed another sheet, that she half shoved in James' hands. The Slytherin captain tried not to look at him too much. He had the exact same look in his eyes than he did two minutes ago, and Moire was scared to be in the same position again. If she looked at him again, Merlin only knew what would happen. The tablecloths were folded and put away with the napkins and Moire left hurriedly.

She tried to occupy herself for the rest of the day, and when there was nothing left for her to do, she insisted on helping others with their tasks. She just couldn't face James, not after their little moment in the laundry room.

"Are you okay, Moire? You seem a little tense," Lily asked later on in the day, worried. Sweet, innocent, unassuming Lily. She couldn't very well tell her that a few hours prior to that, she had wanted her eldest brother to pin her against him and snog her senseless.

"I'm alright," she reassured her.

She had accidentally sat next to James at dinner, and she had been hyperaware of his elbows touching hers. Thankfully, everyone was too exhausted by the day of preparations to really talk and dinner was a quick affair. They all headed to bed and Moire prepared herself for another restless night.

oOo

The next few days had been the same as the first. Moire had been able to pretend like nothing had happened the next morning and every morning after that, when she had her daily breakfast with James. She had started wearing other shirts to sleep in, however, and if he noticed, the eldest Potter did not comment on it.

Now, the day before the wedding, and everything was almost over. Victoire's French relatives had joined them a couple of days prior, and Moire had had to blink a few times when Fleur's mother, Apolline Delacour, had walked in. She was absolutely stunning, and it felt to her like she was being blinded by the light that seemed to emit from the woman. Her husband, much shorter and rotund, was absolutely charming and quite a funny man at that. Victoire's aunt, Gabrielle, also looked strikingly similar to her sister, and she had brought her two children with her. Her daughter, who from Moire's understanding was named Noelle, seemed to be about fourteen, and she threw a dazzling smile at Scorpius before letting out a dreamy sigh. Rose seemed almost offended by it while Scorpius just looked uncomfortable. Noelle's little brother, Alexandre, was about eight and looked wide eyed at the Burrow, probably wondering how it held together as it seemed like it was just random parts of houses stacked on top of each other. Alexandre's English seemed rather limited to "hello", "please", and "thank you" and without his relatives around, the poor child seemed lost. Moire wasn't the Laird's daughter for no reason, however, and she had smiled at the kid and introduced herself in French and told him she would be there to help if his parents, aunt, or sister were busy with wedding preparations.

"How is it that we've known each other for years, and I just learn that you can speak French," James had asked her later, baffled, yet amused.

"You never asked," she smirked back.

"Well, what other secrets are you hiding, McLeoch?"

"If I told you, they wouldn't be secrets anymore, would they?"

While it seemed to everyone else that everything was normal between them, Moire knew better. There was a certain heaviness between them. It wasn't the bad type of heaviness. It was almost like how charged the air was right before a storm. She avoided staying alone for too long with him, because she knew that if she did, she would end up doing something stupid again. There was always at least a third person with them at all time and whenever it was just the two of them, she ran out of there as soon as her task was over. She continued doing so until the day before the wedding. Thankfully, she had found enough ingredients to make some potion for dreamless sleep and had made a batch the day after the incident in the laundry room. She had walked down with the biggest dark circles, and even Mrs. Potter had taken one look at her and sat her down, asking if everything was alright. She had given her the same explanation as she had given James the day before, and Ginny had practically dragged her to a cupboard in the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley kept her potions supply.

The night before the wedding, she had decided to stay up a little while longer and think about the upcoming day. While everything was ready for the wedding, a few last second details would need to be ironed out. The tent people had done a fabulous job, and the chairs and altar had been already set up. She had shared some of her potion with Victoire, who was at peak nervousness, and Moire hoped it helped her sleep better. Once the last touches would be made on the huge tiered cake, which Mrs. Weasley had insisted on baking since the caterers were making the food instead of her, everything would be ready. The Firewhiskey sent by her father would be served at the reception, along with champagne, and whatever was left would be split evenly amongst the Weasley-Potter family. And on the morning after the wedding, Teddy and Victoire would take a Portkey, authorized by the Minister of Magic herself, to their honeymoon in Australia.

Moire could take her potion at any point in time and just drift to sleep, but there was a certain beauty in the silence of the house. She got out of her bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the dark before she reached the bottom of the stairs. A silhouette was sitting at the table.

"Moire?"

Recognizing James' voice, she considered going back upstairs, but he had already seen her. Besides, she could stay far enough and control herself. She was the Laird's daughter, for Salazar's sake. So, straightening up, she walked over to the long kitchen table comprised of three mismatched ones and sat next to James. He turned sideways to face her, and for a second, she felt exposed.

"What are you doing up?" She asked.

"I couldn't sleep so I came down for some water. You?"

"I didn't want to sleep. It was just so quiet, and I wanted to enjoy it a little while longer," she explained. She wasn't sure he'd understand what compelled her, so she explained. "It's just been so hectic around here, and there was so much to do, but it's all over now. Everything we've done has all been for tomorrow. I'm just enjoying this for a second."

"Tomorrow is going to be a war zone," he said, shaking his head and she let out a small giggle.

"You're probably right."

"The seating chart is a nightmare. Gran basically said that we should take care of seating people because we get ready faster and that we should let you girls get ready."

"She's not wrong about that. Hair and makeup are going to take a couple of hours."

"I'm sure you'll all manage," he laughed. "As long as you're all done before three o'clock."

"You can't rush art, Potter."

"Art isn't supposed to look good," he answered cryptically. "Art is supposed to make you feel something."

She was speechless for a second. There was something in his expression, it was undecipherable, but it still knocked the air out of her lungs. He stood up, and so did she.

"Well, I guess I'm going back to bed," she said slowly.

"McLeoch…," he started, looking up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"McLeoch," he called again, more decisively.

"What am saying, of course I'll see y-," she was cut off.

"Moire," he said, looking at her now. He then pointed to the ceiling above them.

A mistletoe branch hung above them, and it seemed to Moire that it was mocking her, almost.

"How? It wasn't here earlier today!"

"Uncle George and Uncle Ron charmed them, but they wanted to mess with everyone, so they didn't tell anyone else but me. They just disappear and reappear at random parts of the house."

There was a small silence where she looked at the branch and she could feel James looking at her.

"There's no one around," the Scot reasoned. "No one has to know."

"It's bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe," James answered.

"Is it really?"

"I don't know. But are we going to risk it?"

"I guess not," she answered.

His face got closer to hers, and she stared at his lips, almost anticipating the moment, and dreading it at the same time. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. It didn't come the way she expected it. He had opted to kiss her cheek, dauntingly close to the corner of her mouth. She opened her eyes back up and he was looking at her, the same expression on his face than he did before, one she couldn't quite read. But it was gentle, and she felt like she was in the right place. She had felt this in the laundry room too, like she could just stay here forever with James Sirius Potter looking at her just like he was now.

"I have to go to bed," she forced herself to say. "See you tomorrow, Potter."

She turned around and tried to not run up the stairs. She could feel him staring at her until she took the turn going up the staircase. Finally, she reached her room, and stopped to breathe for a second. She heard footsteps coming up and the door to James' room next to hers close. Moire looked at the potion on the nightstand and gulped a serving size faster than she had ever drank anything. She got into bed and let the potion send her into a restful and, most importantly, void of any dreams of James Potter or what his lips and hands felt like on her.


Aaaaaand we're finally in the thick of it! I hope you all liked this chapter, and if you did, let me know in the reviews. I will have the next one out soon, and let me tell you all, I LOVE a good wedding.

See you all in the next chapter, and don't forget to let me know what you guys thought of this one.