Thanks to the Reviewers: And here we go: Professor Weasley, Nathonea, Kiyoko, Chocolate Muse, Snicks, Caroline X, Sailor Leo, the Marauders' Legacy. Schnoogles to the lot of you. Schnoogles as well to Rhianna for letting me cameo her in this part. :D
Friendly Neighbourhood Disclaimer: You-Know-Who, Ginny and the rest of the peanut gallery belong to JK Rowling and assorted publishers. I'm just screwing with their personalities/psyches.
Chapter Notes: Wizard weddings are fun things to make up. You take a pinch of a traditional church one, add a dash of a handfasting, mix well and hand to the local High Priest/Priestess. Or something like that. So yeah, I kind-of used the idea of the Wiccan handfasting for P&P's wedding. Ballroom dream scene very much inspired by the bubble-ballroom scene in Labyrinth and the masquerade scene of The Phantom of the Opera. And the ink-tipped roses? Well, that idea is a whole 'nother story. See, one day, I was sitting around and there were roses on the table from me mum's birthday. And I was bored with my calligraphy set. So I take a rose and dip in ink and then I . . . get very off-track. Story beginning now. Presto!
Will someone please inform those annoying pop-up ads that they need to bugger off while I am searching for Savage Garden lyrics as I am too lazy to transcribe my own? Seriously though, story now.
We twist and turn where angels
burn,
Like fallen soldiers we will
learn
That once forgotten, twice
removed
Love will be the death, the
death of you.
~ Tears of Pearl, Savage
Garden
"Ginny, up!" The two words were the first ones that awakened Ginny the following day. Blinking in her bed and stretching her arms, Ginny wondered why she felt so tired. Then the memories of last night came rushing back. The diary and the note. She stopped, lying stock-still in her bed. However, that paralysis only lasted a split-second. Instantly, she threw back the covers and raced toward the window. Flinging it open, she looked down at the ground, half-expecting the diary to be where she had let it drop. But the hedges were clean of any small black books.
A smile slowly spread across the freckled face of Ginny as she stood at the window.
"Oi, aren't you supposed to be getting ready, Gin?" Her happy thoughts were interrupted by the rather loud voice of George from below.
"What?" Ginny blinked, her line of sight changing so that she saw her older brother.
"Stop staring out the window. I know the hedges are a bleeding lovely sight first thing in the morning, but Hermione's here and you two have to help Penelope get ready." George yelled back.
"Will you stop yelling?" Percy walked up to George. His hair was disarrayed and he looked rather frantic, with his wide eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses. "You're supposed to be helping Charlie set up the chairs!"
"Relax, Perce, we still have five hours." George grinned.
However, that only seemed to cause Percy's panic to rise a few notches. "Five hours?" His voice rose not only in pitch, but in volume. "Oh, Gods, I have so much to do!" With that, he hurried off in the direction from which he had come.
Ginny shook her head, laughing. She then ducked back inside her room and closed the window. She then quickly changed into some old clothes, after all, she was going to be dressed up soon enough, so she didn't really need to worry about her appearance now.
"Ginny!" There was her mother again.
"Coming, mum!" Ginny called downstairs, before preceding down the staircase herself.
The sight that met her eyes could easily be defined as surpassing chaos.
"Out, out, out!" were the first words that Ginny heard from the room. "Out!" And clearly, they were directed at her. Eyes widening at the general hubbub of things, Ginny ducked back into the hallway. Where she was almost immediately run over by Percy.
"So many things to do, so many things . . . " he was muttering to himself. And talking to one's self is not too healthy. Well, at least he's not answering himself, Ginny rationalized.
"Every thing all right, Percy?" she asked rather hesitantly.
Percy stopped and turned to stare at her. He blinked, as if just noticing she was there. "Oh, Ginny. Uh, Penny's in the bride's tent. You should go there too, get ready and help her get ready. I have so many things to do." With that, he turned and hurried off to somewhere else.
"This is going to be a long day," Ginny predicted half-heartedly as the sound of a rather loud crash emanated from the kitchen area. She sighed and walked outside, to where the tent where the bride and her bridesmaids and attendants were getting ready.
And she was right. Between last-minute dress adjustments, making sure everything looked perfect, helping her mother in the kitchen and quite a few miscellaneous other things, the time of the wedding was almost right on top of hem before Ginny noticed.
"Okay, Maria goes out first, then it's you Ginny, then goes . . . " Ginny nodded as Penelope told them what to do for the umpteenth time. It was almost time for the actual ceremony to start.
The curly-haired bride fell silent for a moment as the strains of music began to trickle into the tent where she was. "Maria!"
"I know, Penny," one of Penelope's friends grinned. "My turn." She stepped out of the tent and out of sight.
Ginny mentally counted to ten, then followed the dark-haired girl. She was quite nervous about tripping or doing something equally stupid that would generally cause an imperfection in the wedding. Right before she was about to walk down the aisle, she was met by Oliver Wood, who flashed her a smile and then took her arm. He was one of Percy's ushers at the wedding, which was unsurprising, as they were good friends. As she walked, Ginny made sure to take slow, careful steps that would give her no cause to trip. Not for the first time, she wondered if Penelope had only made her a bridesmaid in her wedding because Percy had asked her.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today," the minister-like person presiding over the wedding was an official from the Ministry of Magic. In front of her was a table that held the items that were commonly used in a wizarding wedding. Ginny had only been to one other, which had been her Aunt Persephone's wedding. There was the cord, which would be wrapped around the hands of the bride and groom, the official's wand, the pair of wedding rings, the goblet of water, the small cake of earth, the candle and a feather.
Ginny heard the murmur of the crowd sitting in the chairs. She looked at the people for a moment, before turning her eyes to see Penelope walking down the aisle in her long, immaculately white wedding robes. She was being escorted by her father, who had such a grin on his face, if it got any wider, it would very likely crack his face. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Percy grinning like a mad-man. When Penelope reached the altar, she hugged her father before turning to the official.
The official - her name was Rhianna Rouxal - looked at the bride and her father, "Penelope Rowane Clearwater, is it the truth that you come to this of your own free will and accord?"
Penelope nodded, "yes, it is true."
"With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?" Rhianna continued.
"She comes with me, her father, and is accompanied by the blessings of her family," Penelope's father said.
"Very well," Rhianna nodded. She picked up the cord and tied it loosely around the wrists of Percy and Penelope. With a tap of her wand, the knot in the white cord disappeared and it was a whole circle. "With this cord, round in it's shape of eternity, I tie thy hands in presence of all here. It is a symbol of your love."
Rhianna then turned to Penelope once more and Ginny shifted slightly. The shoes she was wearing were uncomfortable. They had been fine for the first hour she had been in them, but now they were just plain killing her feet. She wondered briefly if she could just slip out of them and stand there in her dress. After all, it was floor length. She fidgeted now. Weddings were really boring, once you got down to it. Especially if you were one of the attendants and you were expected to stand there for quite some time, being perfectly still and smiling a fake smile.
"But nothing's going to happen," Ginny muttered to herself.
"What?" one of the other attendants whispered, giving her a curious look.
Ginny shook her head in reply, to signal nothing. She sighed once more. But then again, whenever someone says nothing is going to happen, something - usually of the worst kind - most likely will.
"By the powers of the earth, the wind, the flame and the water, I bless these rings." Rhianna was saying now. She tapped her wand to each of the four items representing the elements, then tapped the pair of rings. The rings seemed to glow for a moment, then stopped. She handed them to Percy and Penelope who put them on each other's ring fingers.
Instantly, the cord around their wrists vanished. Ginny had to smile as the newly married couple kissed. It was good for them to have such happiness now. Now, it was time for the reception at a hall that Penelope's parents had rented. Which meant there would be food, something Ginny felt herself in need of.
There would be Portkeys to take them there - well, the people who couldn't Apparate, which Ginny was among the numbers of. As the wedding party dispersed, she heard snippets of conversation.
"Such a beautiful wedding," her mother was saying to one of her friends.
"Of course," her mother's friend replied.
"Can't wait to go to the reception, I'm starved." That voice was all too recognizable as Ron's. He was talking to Harry and Hermione. Hermione was searching for something in her pockets.
"Where is it?" she asked, her tone somewhat frantic.
"Oh, hey, Gin," Ron noticed his sister.
"Hi," Ginny smiled back. "Standing for two hours in high heels isn't advised."
"I'll keep that in mind," her brother replied dryly. "Hermione, what are you looking for?"
"My bracelet," Hermione said, her expression growing more and more worried. "It must have fallen out of my pocket."
"We'll help you look for it," Harry said.
"Of course," Ginny chimed in. "It must be around here somewhere." She paused, confused for a moment. "Did you try a Summoning Charm?"
"Yes," Hermione said, beginning to look sharply at the ground, "but it didn't work."
However, before the four of them could start to look for Hermione's missing bracelet, Ginny's mother had hurried over to them.
"There you two are," she smiled. "Come along, now."
"What for?" Ron was curious and puzzled.
"Because Penny's about to toss her bouquet and you two are unmarried." Molly Weasley said, taking each girl by the arm.
"Mum, I'm only fifteen!" Ginny protested as she was led away from her mother.
"And I've only started dating," Hermione chimed in.
"It's a tradition," Molly Weasley insisted and let go of the girls as they reached the destination.
"Mum, it's a stupid one," Ginny tried a last-ditch effort to get out of the silly tradition.
"Stupid or not, it is one," Molly Weasley smiled, then walked away.
"All right, is everyone ready?" Standing on a platform a few feet away was the bride herself. Penelope smiled slightly self-consciously and fiddled with the bouquet. It was made of different shades of roses, picked for their different meanings. Yellow ones, pink ones, white ones and red ones. There were sprigs of other small flowers amidst the roses, but she didn't really remember the names of them. "Well, here you go."
With that sentence, Penelope tossed the bouquet into the small crowd of single, unmarried women. It bounced a few times as some of them scrambled for it at the same time as others. Ginny stood in silence, watching a few petals fall off the roses as they were all but manhandled by the females.
Of course, most surprising to everyone there, was that the bouquet fell from the hands of the scrambling women. Into the unexpecting hands of Ginny Weasley, who seemed to be the most surprised out of everyone.
Ginny blinked as she looked down at the bouquet. There seemed to be a few people talking in disappointed voices, but they sounded farther away than they were supposed to. And the smell of the roses seemed to be stronger than it should have been. It was sickly-sweet and almost like a haze around her. As she looked down at the roses, the tips of them seemed to be growing darker and darker.
Almost like someone was dipping them in ink.
That was when the sharp, throbbing pain in her fingers set in. With a slightly cry, Ginny released the bouquet and it fell to the ground. As it fell, a few petals came loose and the flowers seemed to loose their ink-stained tips.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" Hermione was asking. But she sounded so far away
Ginny looked down at her hands and saw the spots of blood flecking her fingers. "Pricked my finger," she said, rather dazedly. She picked up the bouquet, careful to hold it so that she didn't get any more pricks from the thorns.
"That's not right," Penelope was by them now. "The flowers were charmed to be thorn less."
"Let me see," Hermione requested and Ginny complied by handing over the bouquet.
Hermione examined the stems of the roses as Ginny herself examined her hands. There were about a dozen little cuts from thorns, all of which seemed to be stopping bleeding soon.
"There aren't any thorns," Hermione handed the bouquet back to Ginny, sounding confused.
"That's odd," Ginny said, looking back down at the flowers. They were normal, absent of any ink staining.
"Here, loves," another woman broke in on their conversation. "A Portkey to the hall." Hermione took it and the woman walked off, presumably to hand out more Portkeys.
"I think I'm just going to go lie down," Ginny said, "I'm not feeling well."
"But you'll miss all the fun," Penelope protested.
"I just don't feel well," Ginny insisted, heading toward the house. She walked through the people, hurrying almost to the point of running.
Something was wrong. The world wasn't supposed to be spinning around like this. Especially on the staircase. Ginny stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. She could hear the chatter outside gradually decreasing as the Portkeys began to take effect. She slowly continued to go up the stairs and only stopped when she reached her room. The bouquet of roses was placed on her dresser and she herself sat down heavily on her bed, her breath becoming shallow.
Maybe a glass of water would do her some good? It was a random thought in her head, snatched at because it offered some sort of sanity. As she stood up, her world felt like it was spinning again. She closed her eyes and it felt like she fell backwards until she bumped into something. Opening her eyes, she saw a crowd of people surrounding her.
Whirling, twirling, spinning, dizzying. Her feet were spinning beneath her as she was being turned by the surging crowd around her. She put out her hands and tried to stop, but she only ended up with her hands flopping against the people. She felt helpless and everything was a blur.
Quite suddenly though, it stopped. She stumbled slightly, wondering why the spinning motion had stopped. She put a hand to her forehead, trying to quell the dizziness she felt. This wasn't right. Glancing forward, Ginny found herself looking at her reflection. Her brow creased in confusion. Had she inadvertently touched a Portkey that took her to the hall where Percy and Penelope were having their wedding party? She shifted her attention to the reflection of the crowd in the mirror.
"They aren't the guests," she realized. Not one of the people there was recognizable as a person who had attended the wedding. Her confusion only increased ten-fold. Everyone in the reflection was dressed elegantly, but there was something that was off about them. They all seemed to be wearing masks. Male, or female, it didn't seem to matter. They all wore masks that covered the top half of their faces. It was a blank, silver mask with not decoration at all. It was rather chilling, to see eyes peering out from behind those expression-less masks. She shivered. Not only were the faces chilling, it seemed that the temperature had dropped a few good degrees. And she was only wearing a light summer dress.
"Care to dance?" the voice was at her left and belonged to a stranger.
"Um, not really," Ginny replied, both wary and hesitant. There was music playing, but she couldn't identify the source. Or exactly what the song was. It sounded like a waltz, the three beat measures of the waltz was of the few things that she remembered from when Bill had taken piano lessons. Without further comment or questioning, the stranger who had been talking to her was suddenly whirled away by others.
A harsh laughter met her ears suddenly and Ginny's eyes searched to find who had laughed. It was the same tone he would use, but he wasn't there. And it wasn't his voice, anyway. It was a woman's voice. Quickly, she found the origin to be a pair of girls who looked to be around the same age as her. And they looked somehow familiar, even with the masks.
One had brown hair pulled back in a sleek bun and a mocking smile played on her lips. She had been the one who was laughing harshly. Ginny's eyes flickered to the other woman and saw that she had long, dark hair that was plaited. Both girls wore dresses, - the brunette wore one of periwinkle, while the darker one wore a dress of fuschia - not like dress robes, which Ginny had seen at the Yule Ball in fourth year.
The pair of women looked up at Ginny and smirked in unison. Then they too, moved off into the crowd, leaving Ginny standing alone once more.
Is there anyone here that I know? She silently cried, in her mind. Her eyes wandered to the large mirror once more, studying the crowd.
The room that she was in was reminiscent of a large ball room, but the resemblance to the Great Hall at Hogwarts was striking. Except the Great Hall did not have mirrors lining the walls. Or a marble floor. Or pillars in it. Ginny blinked, still rather confused. But her eyes roved over the mirror, looking for a familiar face. Or familiar hair, to tell her who was the face behind the mask.
That's when she saw them. Her family was on the other side of the room, sitting on some couches and some chairs. I thought they were at the reception, Ginny said to herself, confusion becoming mixed with irritation. Exactly what is going on?
"Well, I'm going to find out," she muttered to no one in particular. She was about to turn away from the mirror and go to them, ask them what was going on. But something in the mirror caught her eye.
Or rather, someone.
"Oh, dear gods, no." Ginny whispered under her breath as her eyes widened, but stayed focused on that one spot, on that one face. Flame red eyes stared back at her, a mocking smile playing on pale lips.
He was nearer to her than her family, standing completely and utterly still on the marble floor. It was as if he were the focal point of some painting, being the only stationary thing in a sea of whirling people. His pants were black and his shirt was white, like many of the other males in the room. He wasn't wearing a normal coat, but one that was long and red. It looked old-fashioned as well.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Ginny whispered, inching away from the spot where she was. She tried to take her eyes off of him, but it felt like her line of sight had been permanently altered to see him. As if he could hear her protestations, the cold smile on Tom's face grew.
She wrenched her gaze from him and looked over to where her family was. This time, she noticed they were all dressed in black and were sitting stiffly, like statues. I have to get to them, Ginny thought as she pushed her way through the crowd.
"Leaving so soon, love?" someone asked and before Ginny could voice her protestation, she felt herself be drawn into the dance.
"I have to go," she said, trying to get out of the stranger's grip.
"Cinderella isn't supposed to leave the ball until midnight," the stranger said, his tone like that of a warning.
"Please," Ginny said, looking over the stranger's shoulder to where her family was. Her eyes then darted around the room again, looking for Tom. She couldn't see him now. And the stranger was twirling her round and round and round.
"If you insist," the stranger smiled and released her from his arms. However, he sent her spinning into the crowd.
And in the crowd, she instantly bumped into another person.
"Sorry," Ginny murmured, placing a hand to her forehead to quell the dizzy spell that was taking her over.
"Quite all right, dear," someone took her hand away from her forehead and then placed another hand on her waist.
Ginny looked up into a pair of grey eyes.
"I've been waiting to dance with you, love." The new stranger smiled as he danced with her to the waltz.
"What?" This was quite confusing for Ginny. "Waiting for me?"
"Yes, but he's been waiting longer," the stranger said, with all the air of a wizened man.
"He?" Monosyllabic words seemed to be the forte of her vocabulary at the moment. Ginny looked at her family once more. They were still sitting like statues upon the couches. They hadn't even moved an inch from when she had last seen them.
"Yes," the stranger said, forcing her to move in time with him. However, he soon released her and spun her around. Instead of taking her back to finish the dance, the stranger left her to spin and stumble into the crowd.
This really is not fun, Ginny thought wryly as she stumbled and tried to keep her balance. When she was doing so, she backed up into someone. "Oh, sorry."
"Don't be, Ginny love."
With those words, she froze. Of all the people in the room, she had to bump into him. Of course, it was Murphy's law. Damn you, Murphy. Ginny thought. It was pretty much all she could do at the moment. It seemed that her limbs had stopped working. He seemed to always have that effect on her.
"Hello, Tom." Ginny whispered as she felt him place his hand on her waist.
"Missed me, love?" his mouth was right near her ear and she could feel the air from his lips when he breathed. The fingers of his other hand were twining around hers and she felt her own hand move to hold his.
Ginny remained silent. She tried to push his hand off of her waist, but it wasn't working. He was still too strong for her.
"Look at me, Ginny love." His tone was commanding. Which was all the more reason why she turned her face away from him.
"No." Ginny looked at her family. They were all turned to her now, looking at her with large, sad eyes. The expressions on their faces was akin to betrayal.
Without warning, he suddenly released her and she fell forward, without the support. However, she did not fall to the ground. Tom grabbed her arm tightly and wrenched her around to face him.
"Did you really think that you could get rid of me?" he demanded coldly. His face was set with anger, and his eyes were now a blazing coal colour.
"Let go of me." Ginny cried, pulling back. Her arm felt like it was going to bruise. Around them, the dancers continued to move in time with the music.
"Certainly, Ginny love." Tom pushed her away from him abruptly.
She fell to the ground with a thud which made her head spin. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead.
"You all right, Gin?" It was Ron speaking to her.
"What?" Ginny blinked, then shook her head a few times to clear every thing. The ballroom was fading and the familiar setting of her bedroom was surrounding her. She was currently in somewhat of a heap on the floor. "I'm confused," she muttered.
"You must have fallen out of bed," Ron said, holding out a hand to help her up. As she moved her arm, she winced. It felt very tender and was, she realized as she looked at it, starting to bruise slightly.
"Oh," seemed the only word in her vocabulary that was letting itself be spoken. She remembered coming upstairs to sleep, opting to miss the wedding reception because she didn't feel well.
"And you must have hit your arm on something," Ron added, looking at the fresh bruise on her arm.
"Yeah," Ginny replied. "I'm still not feeling all that well and . . . " she trailed off.
"Of course," Ron said, standing up. "Mum just told me to check on you." With that, he left the room.
A quick glance toward the window told Ginny that she must have been asleep. She blinked, clearing her head. Extremely weird, she thought to herself. I guess I should change into my pyjamas, though. It was a rational thought, the one that fuelled the actions of her getting to her feet. She walked over to her dresser and opened the drawer.
As she got out her pyjamas for the night, Ginny glanced at the bouquet. She paused. Someone had put them in a vase of water and arranged them. However, that wasn't the strongest change.
Now, the tips of the roses were stained with ink.