Tripping Down the Aisle
Chapter Six: The Wedding Planner
***
Saturday, 22 October Six months, two days
James did not see the point of his attendance at the meetings with the wedding planner. As he told Lily several times, he could not care less about the flowers or the food or the band or...well, whatever else was involved in planning a wedding. All he cared about was Lily's attendance. That was it.
But every time he brought this up, Lily said that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't involve himself with his own wedding. James responded by saying that, if he ever did regret that, he would content himself with memories of the wedding night.
Whenever he pointed that out, he ended up sleeping on the sofa. Or, if the argument escalated to a high enough level, at Sirius's.
So here James sat, next to Lily, slumped over in his seat simply because he knew it annoyed her, and also because he was too bored to worry about correct posture. Not that he ever really bothered with posture.
The wedding planner was a middle-aged woman (although she still insisted that she was twenty-seven) by the name of Adeline Corrington, or "Addy", as she practically begged them to call her. She had short, bottle-blonde hair, tiny gray eyes, and eyebrows that she routinely shaved off and drew back on with black eyebrow pencil. As of late, she had started drawing them rather unevenly, so that the right one was a little bit longer than the left, and the left was arched more than the right.
These eyebrows were a major distraction to James, who had little to no interest in today's topic (whether or not to have attendants) as it was. He kept trying to tune into the conversation between Adeline and Lily, but would start unconcsciously concentrating on Adeline's circus-freak eyebrows. He kept wondering if she would notice if he brought out his wand and Transfigured them into caterpillars....
"James," Lily's sharp voice said, interrupting his fantasy. "James, are you listening to me?"
"Sure," he responded, blinking. "And, love, I agree one-hundred percent."
Lily raised an eyebrow. Her eyebrows, luckily, were normal. He was afraid that he might have to step in if she started shaving them. "That's great, Jimmy, but Adeline--"
"Oh, please, call me Addy!" the wedding planner interrupted, flashing a false smile.
"Addy," Lily amended, pronouncing the word with great distaste that the other woman failed to notice, "just asked you whether or not you wanted attendants."
James stared curiously at his girlfriend. "Well, of course I want people to come, Lily."
In spite of herself, Lily smiled. "Different kind of attendants, James. A best man. Groomsmen."
This he could be interested in. James straightened in his seat. "Well, I told Sirius he was going to be my best man when we were thirteen, so..."
"That's what I thought," Lily said authoritively, leaning back in her chair. "So, yes, attendants for James."
Adeline made a note in her folder and turned the page. "Oh," she said, laughing a little in surprise as she read something. "Oh, this can't be right....you're...twenty?"
Oh, there it was again. She asked this every single time they came in. James could not wait for January, when his birthday came and he could tell her that he was twenty-one. Of course, that would be a small victory, but it would be a victory all the same.
Lily blinked once before replying, "Yes. Neither of us has had our birthday in the past three weeks, Ms. Corrington."
Adeline smiled in sickeningly false manner. "Of course. And you are....living together?" She blinked up at them innocently.
Lily didn't even bother to reply. She merely sighed, her eyes flashing.
Adeline dropped the subject and quickly turned a page in the folder. "Hmm," she muttered to herself as she perused the page carefully through her horn-rimmed spectacles, "Ms. Evans, have you started looking for your wedding dress yet?"
Lily looked up from her lap. "What?" she blurted in surprise.
Adeline smiled up at Lily with false patience. "Well, you are planning on wearing a wedding dress, correct?"
Lily gritted her teeth. "That depends," she said. "I could wear a tea towel, if you prefer."
Putting aside the fact that he would not mind in the slightest if Lily wore a tea towel anywhere, James tried, "What--what Lily means is," he said tentatively, realizing that if this continued for much longer Lily would bring out her wand and possibly curse off the stubble that was Adeline's eyebrows, and that might be too much for James to take, "it's October. Isn't that a little...early...to be looking for a dress? With the--with the wedding in June...and all?"
Adeline looked shocked that he even suggested such a thing. "Mr. Potter," she said, her voice breathily patronizing, "a wedding dress is the greatest thing a woman will ever wear. It has to be perfect, and that often takes months for the bride to find one to her liking....and," she deliberately turned her tiny eyes to Lily, "it takes some women more time than others."
Lily set her jaw.
James was still stuck on the part of Adeline's speech where she said that a wedding dress is the greatest thing a woman will ever wear, or he would've been indignant on his girlfriend's behalf. Obviously, Adeline had never seen Lily in last anniversary's white lace confection. Oy.
"James," Lily said tightly, "are you ready to go?"
"Yes," he said quickly. He thought that the white lace corset...thing...was still in Lily's dresser. If they escaped fast enough, he might be able to convince her to wear it for him. "Yes, I'm ready."
"Take me home," she instructed, narrowing her eyes dangerously in Adeline's direction, "before I sink to her level."
She didn't have to repeat it.
***
Sirius drummed his fingers on the booth table in the Three Broomsticks, where he was waiting for Hestia to arrive. He had already gone through four martinis when Madame Rosmerta had kindly cut him off, asking him whether or not he really wanted to be drunk when Hestia did show up. He was now nursing a glass of water.
He hadn't exactly lured her here under false pretenses, he told himself. So he didn't specifically want to talk about the Order, which is what he had told her he wanted to talk about in the owl. They could talk about that, though. Use it as an introduction to the asking out.
Sirius had never really been nervous about asking a girl out before. James said that it was probably because, with the other girls, he always knew what the answer would be before he asked. And he was right.
It wasn't that Sirius was arrogant. He was, in a sense, but he had certainly become less so as the years passed. He suspected that that was Lily's fault. But he had never cared about being arrogant before, he wasn't about to start.
Probably.
But right now he was...really, really nervous. His palms were sweating, he kept messing with his hair (James was really starting to wear off on him), and there was a very cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sirius half wanted Hestia to walk in the door, and half wished she'd stay away.
Too late for that. She entered the room, wearing a plum-colored cloak and long, dangly silver earrings that stood out against her dark hair. Sirius saw her before she saw him, which was lucky, as the sight of her caused him to choke on his water. He regained himself and waved her over, hoping she couldn't see the droplets of water too much against his green sweater.
Hestia smiled as she slid into the booth, facing him. After Madame Rosmerta brought her a Butterbeer, giving Sirius an encouraging wink before she left, Hestia asked, "So...what exactly did you need to talk about? Does," she lowered her voice, "does Dumbledore have...leads? About...about my sister?"
Her dark eyes were shining hopefully, and she bit her lip, clutching the tankard tightly.
Sirius paused, wondering if he maybe should've been up-front with her. "Hestia, I....no, there--there aren't any leads."
She dropped her eyes, took a long, jerky sip of her drink and muttered, "Yeah, I...I just....don't want there to be...be any Death Eaters. It's not my sister. I just wouldn't....wouldn't want someone to get away with that. Killing someone. It's...no one should get away with that." She didn't appear to be talking to him, merely thinking out loud.
Sirius was quiet as she drank. This was a bad idea, it really was. But Sirius was stubborn, always had been, and so he found himself saying, "Hestia, can I ask you something? You know, other than 'can I ask you something'?"
She smiled faintly at him as she reached for a napkin. "Sure."
Sirius nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. So, listen." He faltered, and found he couldn't say anything after that.
Hestia blinked at him, reaching up to tap her left earring, making it swing back and forth. "I'm listening," she told him.
He laughed nervously. "Yeah, I know. Um...I know you're not...you're not seeing...seeing anyone, and I....I'm single, and you're pretty and I'm...well, I'm pretty, too, and...well...I was just wondering..."
Hestia covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, no," she said softly, her voice muffled slightly by her hand.
No, no, not 'oh, no', nothing good ever comes from 'oh, no'. Sirius felt hot and stupid and quite possibly the most embarrassed he had ever felt in his life, and that included the time Moony had walked in on him...well, never mind about that; living it once had been bad enough. "But wondering is stupid, no one should ever wonder anything ever," he muttered, running a hand through his hair again.
Hestia lowered her hand, a smile playing at her lips. "Sirius," she said.
"Yeah!" Sirius replied, forcing a grin, his voice too bright to be believable.
"Sirius, any girl would be lucky to have you."
"Hmm, so did you write the book on how to turn guys down or are you just reciting this verbatim?" Sirius snapped, his temper getting the best of him.
Hestia didn't lash out at him as she could've--should've, probably. "I know you're upset with me," she told him, and her voice was comforting, soft, almost motherly. He hated her. A little bit. "But just hear me out."
He didn't say anything, but looked down into his almost-empty water glass.
Hestia pulled on the end of her earring. "Sirius, any other time, I would love to go out with you. I really would. We have a lot in common, you're good looking, and you're younger than me, which would give me a lot of bragging rights." She smiled a little. "But the timing is....well, to put it bluntly, the timing is bloody horrible. Sirius, whenever I'd see you, I'd see my sister's face. You, unfortunately, are going to be one of the things I think of when I think of this time in my life...and that's not your fault. But it is something I have to deal with." She cocked her head a little. "If the circumstances were different," she said, lowering her voice, "if it were you who met me like this...you'd see your brother, wouldn't you?"
Sirius glanced up at her, meeting her eyes, trying to imagine her as Regulus, trying to imagine Regulus as her....
And maybe it was just the martinis, but for a moment, he could.
But it wasn't eighteen-year-old Regulus; he didn't look like he had the last time Sirius had seen him...
Regulus was eight and Sirius was eleven, it was September first, and Sirius was leaving. His trunk was packed, his first owl, Lovey (he had let Regulus name her), was perched upon the trolley, and he was going! He was actually going, had the train ticket in his pocket and everything.
Regulus wanted to go, too.
"Aw, don't cry," Sirius said to his brother, crouching down to reach his level. "I'll be back. Holidays and stuff."
Regulus sniffed, his blue eyes filling with tears. "But...but you won't be here for my birthday."
Regulus's birthday was in two weeks, and, indeed, Sirius would not be there to jump on his brother's bed with whistles and noisemakers, singing 'Happy Birthday' and swinging him around the bedroom quickly before their mother woke up.
Sirius bit his lip. "I'll send you a present," he declared. "A really good one...something great. It'll be better than me being there."
Regulus studied his brother, eyes still brimming with shining tears. "Could...could you get me...candy?"
"More than you can eat!" Sirius said, switching his weight to his right foot. Crouching like this got tiring after a few minutes.
"Promise?" Regulus asked warily.
"Promise."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?" Regulus pressed.
Solemnly, Sirius crossed his heart. "Consider it crossed."
Regulus sniffed again. "Okay," he said.
Sirius beckoned his brother closer. "And just you wait," he whispered. "In two more years, you'll be coming with me."
Regulus nodded seriously. "Two years is a long time."
"Not that long," Sirius promised.
"Okay," Regulus said again. "Okay."
Sirius looked up at Hestia, who was smiling sadly. And while he did not accept the reason...he understood.
****
Chapter Six: The Wedding Planner
***
Saturday, 22 October Six months, two days
James did not see the point of his attendance at the meetings with the wedding planner. As he told Lily several times, he could not care less about the flowers or the food or the band or...well, whatever else was involved in planning a wedding. All he cared about was Lily's attendance. That was it.
But every time he brought this up, Lily said that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't involve himself with his own wedding. James responded by saying that, if he ever did regret that, he would content himself with memories of the wedding night.
Whenever he pointed that out, he ended up sleeping on the sofa. Or, if the argument escalated to a high enough level, at Sirius's.
So here James sat, next to Lily, slumped over in his seat simply because he knew it annoyed her, and also because he was too bored to worry about correct posture. Not that he ever really bothered with posture.
The wedding planner was a middle-aged woman (although she still insisted that she was twenty-seven) by the name of Adeline Corrington, or "Addy", as she practically begged them to call her. She had short, bottle-blonde hair, tiny gray eyes, and eyebrows that she routinely shaved off and drew back on with black eyebrow pencil. As of late, she had started drawing them rather unevenly, so that the right one was a little bit longer than the left, and the left was arched more than the right.
These eyebrows were a major distraction to James, who had little to no interest in today's topic (whether or not to have attendants) as it was. He kept trying to tune into the conversation between Adeline and Lily, but would start unconcsciously concentrating on Adeline's circus-freak eyebrows. He kept wondering if she would notice if he brought out his wand and Transfigured them into caterpillars....
"James," Lily's sharp voice said, interrupting his fantasy. "James, are you listening to me?"
"Sure," he responded, blinking. "And, love, I agree one-hundred percent."
Lily raised an eyebrow. Her eyebrows, luckily, were normal. He was afraid that he might have to step in if she started shaving them. "That's great, Jimmy, but Adeline--"
"Oh, please, call me Addy!" the wedding planner interrupted, flashing a false smile.
"Addy," Lily amended, pronouncing the word with great distaste that the other woman failed to notice, "just asked you whether or not you wanted attendants."
James stared curiously at his girlfriend. "Well, of course I want people to come, Lily."
In spite of herself, Lily smiled. "Different kind of attendants, James. A best man. Groomsmen."
This he could be interested in. James straightened in his seat. "Well, I told Sirius he was going to be my best man when we were thirteen, so..."
"That's what I thought," Lily said authoritively, leaning back in her chair. "So, yes, attendants for James."
Adeline made a note in her folder and turned the page. "Oh," she said, laughing a little in surprise as she read something. "Oh, this can't be right....you're...twenty?"
Oh, there it was again. She asked this every single time they came in. James could not wait for January, when his birthday came and he could tell her that he was twenty-one. Of course, that would be a small victory, but it would be a victory all the same.
Lily blinked once before replying, "Yes. Neither of us has had our birthday in the past three weeks, Ms. Corrington."
Adeline smiled in sickeningly false manner. "Of course. And you are....living together?" She blinked up at them innocently.
Lily didn't even bother to reply. She merely sighed, her eyes flashing.
Adeline dropped the subject and quickly turned a page in the folder. "Hmm," she muttered to herself as she perused the page carefully through her horn-rimmed spectacles, "Ms. Evans, have you started looking for your wedding dress yet?"
Lily looked up from her lap. "What?" she blurted in surprise.
Adeline smiled up at Lily with false patience. "Well, you are planning on wearing a wedding dress, correct?"
Lily gritted her teeth. "That depends," she said. "I could wear a tea towel, if you prefer."
Putting aside the fact that he would not mind in the slightest if Lily wore a tea towel anywhere, James tried, "What--what Lily means is," he said tentatively, realizing that if this continued for much longer Lily would bring out her wand and possibly curse off the stubble that was Adeline's eyebrows, and that might be too much for James to take, "it's October. Isn't that a little...early...to be looking for a dress? With the--with the wedding in June...and all?"
Adeline looked shocked that he even suggested such a thing. "Mr. Potter," she said, her voice breathily patronizing, "a wedding dress is the greatest thing a woman will ever wear. It has to be perfect, and that often takes months for the bride to find one to her liking....and," she deliberately turned her tiny eyes to Lily, "it takes some women more time than others."
Lily set her jaw.
James was still stuck on the part of Adeline's speech where she said that a wedding dress is the greatest thing a woman will ever wear, or he would've been indignant on his girlfriend's behalf. Obviously, Adeline had never seen Lily in last anniversary's white lace confection. Oy.
"James," Lily said tightly, "are you ready to go?"
"Yes," he said quickly. He thought that the white lace corset...thing...was still in Lily's dresser. If they escaped fast enough, he might be able to convince her to wear it for him. "Yes, I'm ready."
"Take me home," she instructed, narrowing her eyes dangerously in Adeline's direction, "before I sink to her level."
She didn't have to repeat it.
***
Sirius drummed his fingers on the booth table in the Three Broomsticks, where he was waiting for Hestia to arrive. He had already gone through four martinis when Madame Rosmerta had kindly cut him off, asking him whether or not he really wanted to be drunk when Hestia did show up. He was now nursing a glass of water.
He hadn't exactly lured her here under false pretenses, he told himself. So he didn't specifically want to talk about the Order, which is what he had told her he wanted to talk about in the owl. They could talk about that, though. Use it as an introduction to the asking out.
Sirius had never really been nervous about asking a girl out before. James said that it was probably because, with the other girls, he always knew what the answer would be before he asked. And he was right.
It wasn't that Sirius was arrogant. He was, in a sense, but he had certainly become less so as the years passed. He suspected that that was Lily's fault. But he had never cared about being arrogant before, he wasn't about to start.
Probably.
But right now he was...really, really nervous. His palms were sweating, he kept messing with his hair (James was really starting to wear off on him), and there was a very cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sirius half wanted Hestia to walk in the door, and half wished she'd stay away.
Too late for that. She entered the room, wearing a plum-colored cloak and long, dangly silver earrings that stood out against her dark hair. Sirius saw her before she saw him, which was lucky, as the sight of her caused him to choke on his water. He regained himself and waved her over, hoping she couldn't see the droplets of water too much against his green sweater.
Hestia smiled as she slid into the booth, facing him. After Madame Rosmerta brought her a Butterbeer, giving Sirius an encouraging wink before she left, Hestia asked, "So...what exactly did you need to talk about? Does," she lowered her voice, "does Dumbledore have...leads? About...about my sister?"
Her dark eyes were shining hopefully, and she bit her lip, clutching the tankard tightly.
Sirius paused, wondering if he maybe should've been up-front with her. "Hestia, I....no, there--there aren't any leads."
She dropped her eyes, took a long, jerky sip of her drink and muttered, "Yeah, I...I just....don't want there to be...be any Death Eaters. It's not my sister. I just wouldn't....wouldn't want someone to get away with that. Killing someone. It's...no one should get away with that." She didn't appear to be talking to him, merely thinking out loud.
Sirius was quiet as she drank. This was a bad idea, it really was. But Sirius was stubborn, always had been, and so he found himself saying, "Hestia, can I ask you something? You know, other than 'can I ask you something'?"
She smiled faintly at him as she reached for a napkin. "Sure."
Sirius nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. So, listen." He faltered, and found he couldn't say anything after that.
Hestia blinked at him, reaching up to tap her left earring, making it swing back and forth. "I'm listening," she told him.
He laughed nervously. "Yeah, I know. Um...I know you're not...you're not seeing...seeing anyone, and I....I'm single, and you're pretty and I'm...well, I'm pretty, too, and...well...I was just wondering..."
Hestia covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, no," she said softly, her voice muffled slightly by her hand.
No, no, not 'oh, no', nothing good ever comes from 'oh, no'. Sirius felt hot and stupid and quite possibly the most embarrassed he had ever felt in his life, and that included the time Moony had walked in on him...well, never mind about that; living it once had been bad enough. "But wondering is stupid, no one should ever wonder anything ever," he muttered, running a hand through his hair again.
Hestia lowered her hand, a smile playing at her lips. "Sirius," she said.
"Yeah!" Sirius replied, forcing a grin, his voice too bright to be believable.
"Sirius, any girl would be lucky to have you."
"Hmm, so did you write the book on how to turn guys down or are you just reciting this verbatim?" Sirius snapped, his temper getting the best of him.
Hestia didn't lash out at him as she could've--should've, probably. "I know you're upset with me," she told him, and her voice was comforting, soft, almost motherly. He hated her. A little bit. "But just hear me out."
He didn't say anything, but looked down into his almost-empty water glass.
Hestia pulled on the end of her earring. "Sirius, any other time, I would love to go out with you. I really would. We have a lot in common, you're good looking, and you're younger than me, which would give me a lot of bragging rights." She smiled a little. "But the timing is....well, to put it bluntly, the timing is bloody horrible. Sirius, whenever I'd see you, I'd see my sister's face. You, unfortunately, are going to be one of the things I think of when I think of this time in my life...and that's not your fault. But it is something I have to deal with." She cocked her head a little. "If the circumstances were different," she said, lowering her voice, "if it were you who met me like this...you'd see your brother, wouldn't you?"
Sirius glanced up at her, meeting her eyes, trying to imagine her as Regulus, trying to imagine Regulus as her....
And maybe it was just the martinis, but for a moment, he could.
But it wasn't eighteen-year-old Regulus; he didn't look like he had the last time Sirius had seen him...
Regulus was eight and Sirius was eleven, it was September first, and Sirius was leaving. His trunk was packed, his first owl, Lovey (he had let Regulus name her), was perched upon the trolley, and he was going! He was actually going, had the train ticket in his pocket and everything.
Regulus wanted to go, too.
"Aw, don't cry," Sirius said to his brother, crouching down to reach his level. "I'll be back. Holidays and stuff."
Regulus sniffed, his blue eyes filling with tears. "But...but you won't be here for my birthday."
Regulus's birthday was in two weeks, and, indeed, Sirius would not be there to jump on his brother's bed with whistles and noisemakers, singing 'Happy Birthday' and swinging him around the bedroom quickly before their mother woke up.
Sirius bit his lip. "I'll send you a present," he declared. "A really good one...something great. It'll be better than me being there."
Regulus studied his brother, eyes still brimming with shining tears. "Could...could you get me...candy?"
"More than you can eat!" Sirius said, switching his weight to his right foot. Crouching like this got tiring after a few minutes.
"Promise?" Regulus asked warily.
"Promise."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?" Regulus pressed.
Solemnly, Sirius crossed his heart. "Consider it crossed."
Regulus sniffed again. "Okay," he said.
Sirius beckoned his brother closer. "And just you wait," he whispered. "In two more years, you'll be coming with me."
Regulus nodded seriously. "Two years is a long time."
"Not that long," Sirius promised.
"Okay," Regulus said again. "Okay."
Sirius looked up at Hestia, who was smiling sadly. And while he did not accept the reason...he understood.
****