Harry drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk. He had been writing
invitations all day, his hands were cramped and cold.
He pushed his chair back and walked into the kitchen. He poured himself a scotch and went and stood behind Marit. "Watcha up to?"
"I'm revising the invitation list, checking to see who's R.S.V.P'd and checking to see who you have cleverly skipped."
"I don't see why we need to invite my former in-laws." Harry said defensively.
Marit rolled her eyes. "Come on, why aren't you churning out more invitations?"
"We should just elope." Harry muttered, then louder. "Isn't that the bride's job?"
"I am supervising the hall rental, the ceremony itself, the catering and." She paused dramatically. "I can't write a word in English. So there."
Harry sighed. "Figures I would marry someone who writes and speaks every language but English."
"I am doing all of the Swedish invitations." Marit said self-righteously.
Harry raised his arms in surrender. "Alright, alright. You win; I'll go back to my desk. Just don't shackle me to the chair this time."
He went back to his office and glanced at the invitation list to see who was next.
Mr & Mrs Vernon Dursley.
He sighed. To invite or not to invite, that is the question. It was, of course, bad etiquette to tell people you were going to invite them to your wedding and then fail to do so. Had aunt Petunia not shown that sudden burst of congeniality the previous week he would have completely ignored them. Now he was faced with an ultimatum. Send the invitation and let them know that their previous hostility was forgiven, or skip to the next line and let them fade into the recesses of his mind.
"Darling!" he called. Marit came into the room.
"Yes?"
"I need some advice. Should I invite the Dursleys, should I just invite Aunt Petunia, what?"
Marit chewed her lip. "You should send the invitation to both of them. Chances are they won't come, but they'll know that you harbour them no ill will." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "If they show up empty handed we can always turn them into kitchen appliances." And she left.
Harry chewed the end of his quill and finally dipped it into his ink.
He sealed the envelope and stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should send a separate one to Dudley. He then decided that Dudley would come, eat everything but the kitchen sink and leave. He moved on to the last of the "undesirables." The Bones' among them.
"I am done." He said, dropping a pile of envelopes onto the table.
"Good. You can call the hotel in Athens and book a block of rooms for everyone in the wedding party."
Harry slumped in his chair. "Why don't we just elope?" he asked again.
"Because I want a big explosion."
"I already had a big explosion. I don't like them, they take ten years off your life."
"Well my first three marriages were big explosions and I'm still alive."
"That's because your husbands paid your debt by all dying within six months of your weddings." Marit had been married and widowed three times before, her first marriage ended when her husband was gored to death in the running of the bulls in Spain, her last two ended when her respective husbands were hit by cars driven by their ex-wives. "I thought you wanted it in Naples."
"I did, but you wanted to get married in Athens so Athens it is.
"Most men are lucky if they know the wedding date a week in advance."
Harry sighed. "Well I still don't think we need thirty people in the wedding party."
"Yes we do, we need my sister Ruth, we need Elisabeth. We have to have Ron and Seamus, Draco and Hermione. Also mandatory is our little niece and my brother, we need some younger people so Elisabeth won't feel out of place-"
Harry waved something in her face. "Look! A grey hair! I just turned thirty two months ago!"
"Thirty is a great age."
"Says you, twenty-eight."
"Twenty-eight with a twelve year old daughter. She makes me feel very old."
"Tell me about it. This wedding makes me feel very old too. Everything makes me feel very old. I AM very old."
"Aw, poor wittle Harry. I feel sorry for you darling, I really do. But I've never been old before so I can't properly empathize."
"Oh you hush. Now does Ruth have any problems with the Christmas wedding?"
"The only problem she has is that her boyfriend is Roman Catholic and he doesn't want to desecrate his religious holiday by not wasting it at Mass, so he isn't coming. Teenagers." Marit said, mock sighing and shaking her head.
"Does Ruth speak English?"
"Rudimentarily. She goes to school in Stockholm and we speak Swedish at home so she hasn't had much experience."
"Do any of your friends speak English?"
"I went to school in Canada, remember?"
"Then why can't you write English?"
"Because I'm illiterate." Marit said dryly.
"No really."
"Because they focused more on magic there."
"So are we going to have to have two ceremonies?"
"No, we can do everything in English. Don't worry about the Swedes."
"Okay. Wedding planning is hard business. Hannah did all of ours, I didn't have to do anything but show up."
"Ha! Well this will be a bit tougher my boy. And Elisabeth is teaching herself Swedish so I think you need to get a move on if you're going to catch up with her."
"She surpassed me when she learned French. I'm content to spend the rest of my life as an unlearned moron."
Marit sighed. "At least brush your hair."
"I do! Three hundred bloody strokes a day. It's hereditary I tell you!"
"Don't settle for hereditary. I certainly don't. Now, I suggest we get Ruth out here to meet you before the first rehearsal-"
He pushed his chair back and walked into the kitchen. He poured himself a scotch and went and stood behind Marit. "Watcha up to?"
"I'm revising the invitation list, checking to see who's R.S.V.P'd and checking to see who you have cleverly skipped."
"I don't see why we need to invite my former in-laws." Harry said defensively.
Marit rolled her eyes. "Come on, why aren't you churning out more invitations?"
"We should just elope." Harry muttered, then louder. "Isn't that the bride's job?"
"I am supervising the hall rental, the ceremony itself, the catering and." She paused dramatically. "I can't write a word in English. So there."
Harry sighed. "Figures I would marry someone who writes and speaks every language but English."
"I am doing all of the Swedish invitations." Marit said self-righteously.
Harry raised his arms in surrender. "Alright, alright. You win; I'll go back to my desk. Just don't shackle me to the chair this time."
He went back to his office and glanced at the invitation list to see who was next.
Mr & Mrs Vernon Dursley.
He sighed. To invite or not to invite, that is the question. It was, of course, bad etiquette to tell people you were going to invite them to your wedding and then fail to do so. Had aunt Petunia not shown that sudden burst of congeniality the previous week he would have completely ignored them. Now he was faced with an ultimatum. Send the invitation and let them know that their previous hostility was forgiven, or skip to the next line and let them fade into the recesses of his mind.
"Darling!" he called. Marit came into the room.
"Yes?"
"I need some advice. Should I invite the Dursleys, should I just invite Aunt Petunia, what?"
Marit chewed her lip. "You should send the invitation to both of them. Chances are they won't come, but they'll know that you harbour them no ill will." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "If they show up empty handed we can always turn them into kitchen appliances." And she left.
Harry chewed the end of his quill and finally dipped it into his ink.
He sealed the envelope and stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should send a separate one to Dudley. He then decided that Dudley would come, eat everything but the kitchen sink and leave. He moved on to the last of the "undesirables." The Bones' among them.
"I am done." He said, dropping a pile of envelopes onto the table.
"Good. You can call the hotel in Athens and book a block of rooms for everyone in the wedding party."
Harry slumped in his chair. "Why don't we just elope?" he asked again.
"Because I want a big explosion."
"I already had a big explosion. I don't like them, they take ten years off your life."
"Well my first three marriages were big explosions and I'm still alive."
"That's because your husbands paid your debt by all dying within six months of your weddings." Marit had been married and widowed three times before, her first marriage ended when her husband was gored to death in the running of the bulls in Spain, her last two ended when her respective husbands were hit by cars driven by their ex-wives. "I thought you wanted it in Naples."
"I did, but you wanted to get married in Athens so Athens it is.
"Most men are lucky if they know the wedding date a week in advance."
Harry sighed. "Well I still don't think we need thirty people in the wedding party."
"Yes we do, we need my sister Ruth, we need Elisabeth. We have to have Ron and Seamus, Draco and Hermione. Also mandatory is our little niece and my brother, we need some younger people so Elisabeth won't feel out of place-"
Harry waved something in her face. "Look! A grey hair! I just turned thirty two months ago!"
"Thirty is a great age."
"Says you, twenty-eight."
"Twenty-eight with a twelve year old daughter. She makes me feel very old."
"Tell me about it. This wedding makes me feel very old too. Everything makes me feel very old. I AM very old."
"Aw, poor wittle Harry. I feel sorry for you darling, I really do. But I've never been old before so I can't properly empathize."
"Oh you hush. Now does Ruth have any problems with the Christmas wedding?"
"The only problem she has is that her boyfriend is Roman Catholic and he doesn't want to desecrate his religious holiday by not wasting it at Mass, so he isn't coming. Teenagers." Marit said, mock sighing and shaking her head.
"Does Ruth speak English?"
"Rudimentarily. She goes to school in Stockholm and we speak Swedish at home so she hasn't had much experience."
"Do any of your friends speak English?"
"I went to school in Canada, remember?"
"Then why can't you write English?"
"Because I'm illiterate." Marit said dryly.
"No really."
"Because they focused more on magic there."
"So are we going to have to have two ceremonies?"
"No, we can do everything in English. Don't worry about the Swedes."
"Okay. Wedding planning is hard business. Hannah did all of ours, I didn't have to do anything but show up."
"Ha! Well this will be a bit tougher my boy. And Elisabeth is teaching herself Swedish so I think you need to get a move on if you're going to catch up with her."
"She surpassed me when she learned French. I'm content to spend the rest of my life as an unlearned moron."
Marit sighed. "At least brush your hair."
"I do! Three hundred bloody strokes a day. It's hereditary I tell you!"
"Don't settle for hereditary. I certainly don't. Now, I suggest we get Ruth out here to meet you before the first rehearsal-"