Chapter Two

The Wedding

Harry followed Ron and Ginny up the spiral staircase of the Burrow, his mind still focused immensely on the death of the Dursley's. When they turned into a room, he noticed Hermione sitting, stroking Crookshanks ginger, fluffy coat, and just perched on the windowsill, was his own, snowy white owl – Hedwig. The three ambled into the room, slamming the door shut behind them, and joined Hermione on the ground.

'Oh, hello Harry,' Hermione begun, as her hairball of a pet crouched and huddled into her stomach. 'What happened at the Dursley's? You sent this letter—'

'Yeah,' muttered Ron, running a hand through his fiery-red hair. 'What did those Muggles do this time? Barricade your bedroom door up?' he continued, with just a hint of a snicker forming over his face. Harry bowed his head, thinking of a way to explain, but as he glanced from Ginny, to Ron, to Hermione, he knew he'd have to tell them. What kind of trouble would he get into for using spells outside of Hogwarts?

'Well?' Ginny ushered him on.

Harry sighed, and then replied: 'They're dead.' He watched as a hand flew over his bushy-haired friends' mouth, then as Ginny's eyes widened. Ron, on the other hand, apparently didn't seem fully comprehending of the sentence Harry had told them. Harry had no idea which way to take it … he couldn't be upset because he hated his aunt, uncle and cousin … but he couldn't be glad for their death — that would be sinking to Lord Voldemort's twisted level.

'C'mon, Harry,' Ron said, glancing around for support on the fact Harry was lying, or being sarcastic in some sick way. 'We know you hate them, but you don't have to pretend they're dead. Though you'd be better off, those damned muggle, I say, should burn in—'

'They are dead! Really!' Harry retorted, pushing his round, shattered spectacles up his nose a notch. 'These Inferi bombarded Privet Drive – thousands of them – they got into the Dursley's home and killed them. I managed to escape, but left my trunk behind.' He reached for his wand at his belt, and wrenched it out, pointed it directly between his eyes and muttered quietly: 'Reparo.'

'Inferi?' Repeated Hermione, a quizzical expression formed over her face. There was a short, yet eerie silence, which the four used to gather the information. 'But – in broad daylight?'

'It was pouring it down. There was no light … hardly,' Harry answered, relieving his friend of confusion. 'Anyway … I think there's a pattern here.'

'What?' Ginny spoke, for the first time since he arrived at the Burrow.

Harry took a deep breath, shuddering off the dripping water aloft his raven-black hair, then spoke: 'First my parents, then Sirius, then Dumbledore now the Dursley's. I know they weren't much of protection, but I was said to be completely safe there. All my protection has been killed off – all of it, and all that's left is me.' Harry paused, drinking in a sympathetic look from Hermione, and faces from Ginny and Ron that said 'oh-come-off-it-Harry!'

Harry glanced about the small, triangular room they were situated in. A miniature bed was placed down, held securely against the stained-looking, yellow right wall, and aloft the sullen, damp floorboards. A small, circular window peered out, Victorian patterns fashioned around its boarders. There was not much special about the room, and the house especially looked much more decent on the outside than the inside. Quickly realising he had had his wand out; Harry tucked it back into the gap between his jeans and belt.

The tension was increasing with every uncanny second as the four remained quiet. Then, Harry decided to speak once more. 'What if I don't kill Voldemort? What if Voldemort kills me?' Harry ignored the interrupting shudder from Ron. 'There won't be another Boy Who Lived episode will there? If Hogwarts doesn't open, then what? The whole world lives in fear until someone magically defeats him?' Harry pondered angrily.

'Harry, what are you talking about?' Ginny murmured devastated, 'You're talking like it's already over, for gods' sake.' Harry looked up, unconvinced. If Dumbledore had fallen that easily to one of Voldemort's mere followers, how was a seventeen-year-old boy going to defeat the strongest, Darkest Wizard alive? The odds were very slim, though thinking of his friends and families' death only brought anger, and a bitter sense to want to kill their murderers quicker.

Harry stood, pacing restlessly around the three, and not before long, leant discreetly against the pane of glass. The humid weather of August was batting menacingly through the transparent window, hitting Harry's back with full force, though he chose to remain there, ignoring the slight discomfort.

'Anyway, when's Bill's and Fleur's wedding?' Harry enquired, hastily changing the subject before anyone else, especially Ginny, could give him a piece of their minds. Harry thought he noticed a glint of jealousy in Ron's face, but after he blinked it seemed to disappear. 'Last term they said they were going to still go ahead with it – they're sticking to that aren't they?'

'Yeah,' answered Ron distastefully, standing to face Harry. 'They're getting married today.'

'Today? Wow … but – if they were getting married today, why didn't you pick me up from the Dursley's yesterday – or better, last week?' Harry enquired, now suddenly realising that the experience at Privet Drive could have clearly been avoided.

There was another moment of quietness, before Hermione miraculously broke it. 'We were going to bring you to the Burrow today, so that …'

'So that we could surprise you,' Ron continued hurriedly. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but interjecting before he could speak, Ron said: 'C'mon, let's go to the field in the back. I'll show you the area where they're holding the wedding.' And yet again, before Harry could say any word of disagreement, his ginger haired friend, Hermione and Ginny were already standing up straight, and scampering out onto the landing.

Harry followed on, retreating down the staircase, past a talkative Mr and Mrs Weasley and Tonks, down the twisted, packed hallway and out into the gleaming, radiant sunshine as he had done just minutes prior. It had been a very long while since he had laid eyes on the Weasley's field of a back garden – its luscious coating of grass covering for as far as Harry could see.

The Weasley's had clearly worked on their yard additionally, with an extraordinarily far-distant vegetable path, which circled a large amount of the rural area, and at the far-end, stood a fluorescent white coloured balcony – flowers were attached easily to the upper tier, and on the lower, steps were placed down. Two long lines of parallel, scarlet material led up to the balcony, and on either side of them, wooden, dirty stools had been situated to face the veranda. Four beautiful, and positively tall plants that Harry had learned about in Herbology were planted on either side of the porch-like-building, and written in a banner, were the words 'Fleur and Bill Weasley'.

For a family whom hated Delacour, they sure had gone through a lot to produce a spectacular wedding for her. There were benches surrounding the wedding area, and sat on them, were wizards and witches, of whom Harry had never seen or even heard of before – yet he guessed they were from Fleur's side of the family, for each of them shared something in resemblance to her. Harry scanned the gardens, and soon, found Lupin, speaking almost … light-hearted to Charlie Weasley. Farther along, he noticed Hagrid and Gwarp standing – probably because they could break the fragile chairs if they sat on one.

There were some people, whom all had badges stuck firmly to their white suits, and magenta ties – they had no indication of what side of the family they came from at all, or that they were even related to anyone in the Burrow. Mad-Eye Moody was sat rather grumpily in clothes so neat, tidy and suitable, his gruff, scarred face clashed terribly, and finally, looking just past him, Harry noticed Bill speaking to what looked like a priest in a long, white and holy shawl and a dress-like gown.

Harry followed Ron, Hermione and Ginny towards one of the benches near Lupin and Charlie, and took a seat. As he sat down, he remembered something he needed asking, so turning to his friends he spoke. 'Hey, when Tonks Apparated to Privet Drive, I noticed she was holding something gold. It could be like that necklace Katie had last year – you know, the one that put her in St Mungo's for months?'

Harry paused, drinking in the quizzical expressions from Hermione, Ginny and Ron. They chose not to reply.

He continued: 'it could be something from the Dark Arts! The same thing could happen to Tonks. Oh yeah – and Dumbledore had a ring last year that burned his hand!' Harry expected his friends to nod in approval, and start chattering about what Voldemort's next course of action would be, and how they were going to stop it. Instead, rather shockingly, he received a round of oblivious laughter.

Harry snarled as he watched them snigger between themselves, and then he looked back at the Burrow.

Cutting Hermione and Ron and Ginny free of their amusement, Harry exclaimed: 'It isn't funny!'

'Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry,' Ginny said, calming her laughing quickly, 'you need to chill – are you really that cautious?'

'What do you mean? I told you!' Harry muttered in confusion, 'it could burn her hand like Dumbledore's, what's so funny about that? I thought you'd have seen it my way – but even after Dumbledore's death, me being right about Malfoy the whole time, and Death Eaters infiltrating Hogwarts, you still don't believe me?' He could think of what it was… 'Tonks tried to hide the gold thing from me twice – it has to be something…'

Hermione sighed, and then spoke up, 'Harry, it was a ring,' Harry was on the verge of interrupting her, but she nattered on. 'An engagement ring.'

Harry felt his face light up a shade of red, watching as Ginny let a quiet giggle out. Somewhere between the sensation of embarrassment and bewilderment he stared, then said: 'Engaged? Engaged to whom?'

Ron was now wearing his 'stupid-isn't-it?' feature as he answered: 'Lupin.'

'Lupin?' Harry glanced from Ron to Remus Lupin, watching for his hand, and there, was the same gold ring that Tonks wore. Slightly confused, yet comprehensive of this news, Harry continued: 'But isn't it a little … early?'

Ron shrugged, followed by Ginny rolling her eyes. Hermione answered: 'didn't you hear that argument in the Hospital Wing last term? They've obviously been considering it for a long time, haven't they?'

Harry cast his mind back, to the time at the end of last year, when everyone had been attending to Bill's werewolf incident. Fleur had been so wrapped up in her little, dramatic speech about still loving a werewolf, no one expected Tonks's outburst about her admiration towards Lupin. Harry turned his focus to Ginny – how he wished he could still continue their relationship, how luxurious and comforting it had been the previous term, sitting by her side in the grounds, huddling up to her. Ginny had given him the happiness he had been yearning, craving for his whole life … but it couldn't continue.

Voldemort would surely, after finding out Harry and Dumbledore had discovered his very weakness, he would surely be after anyone, to blackmail Harry into quitting the hunt for the Horcurxes. When he gazed at the beautifully radiant hair, and warming face of Ginny, he simply felt a horrible sensation within – not the sensation he had felt before going out with her – but one that said 'she's long gone, you can't be with her again. Forget it.' But sometimes, Harry found himself battling with himself inside his head.

Stop thinking about her.

But just a few months wouldn't hurt.

You said you broke up with her for her own safety!

Yes, but what about my needs?

You need Ginny to be safe!

It was murder roll playing arguments over and over, and no Harry was so close to hugging her, even kissing her, he knew he couldn't – those days were over. A weak breeze brushed against the four, their clothes swaying somewhat, and almost as if the weather were corresponding with his thoughts, the clouds leapt before the sun, and raindrops, so lightly, almost one rain drop every half a minute, fell.

'Oh great!' Ron exclaimed, holding the hood of his jumper over his long, tangled hair. 'Raining – it's just typical isn't it?'

'We're still doing the wedding outside aren't we?' Ginny enquired, looking from Hermione to Harry to Ron. 'There's no space inside!'

'Well, we're going to have to aren't we? It's just everyone will get a little wet.' Hermione answered.

'A little wet? More like drenched!' Ron's voice was grump and angry for some peculiar reason. Harry, Ginny and Hermione copied Ron in holding hoods and jumpers, or even paper over their head, as the rainfall began to strengthen.

There was a hysterical shriek, as Mrs Weasley and Fleur ran inside the field, accompanied by Mr Weasley, Tonks and a bundle of Ministry Officers and Aurors. 'We'll have to do the wedding now!' Mrs Weasley announced, clapping loudly as Bill, Fleur and the priest retreated to the Alter, and the onlookers took their places in the white, gardening chairs. Mrs Weasley ran into the centre isle, flicking her wand into the air and muttered a spell under her breath. An invisible roof covered the entire area, free of rain.

Harry followed his friends to the back of the set of chairs, and took a seat, lifting his head so that he could just see over the Auror in front of him. There was a round of applause as a piano appeared just to the left of the balcony, and humming gracefully from the musical device, came a rhythmical tune, which sounded extremely familiar to the song played in Muggle Weddings.

That was when Fleur probably realised that she should be standing at the back of the isle, walking down gradually, instead of standing firmly in front of Bill at the Alter. There were a few sniggers from the younger audiences, but they died down hastily as the Married couple looked around hopelessly. The music ceased, finishing on a rather long, sharp note, and that was when the priest held his hands in the air, just above the heads of the couple, then lifted a thick, tattered, white book from the alter.

He began muttering groggily, yet somehow cheerfully in a language Harry could not understand – probably Latin, like churches would speak in many years ago for Muggles. At this point, Harry had already grown bored of listening tirelessly to the gaunt voice muttering Latin or whatever language he was speaking. He turned to Ginny, Hermione and Ron.

'What language is this?' Harry asked, turning to Hermione for a guaranteed, twenty-five paged long explanation.

'It doesn't have a name, or I don't think it does. Even so, it is similar to Ancient Egyptian. This language was spoken between wizards and witches over one thousand years prior to now.' Hermione explained, lowering his voice to a whisper. 'It so happens, that most funerals and weddings are spoken in this language – it's tradition … I guess Fleur requested it because the French were the ones who requested the language stayed. It doesn't matter … anyone here who has already been to a wedding or funeral and listened, will already know what the priest is saying. I doubt you Ron and Ginny would though – or any of the other younger people here.'

Harry, Ron and Ginny were gob smacked at the information Hermione had just pulled out randomly from thin air. They watched as the bushy haired girl returned her gaze to the front, where Fleur and Bill were now grinning uncontrollably at each other, and the witnesses were beginning to laugh a little between themselves. Harry guessed the priest had cracked a joke in the modified Ancient Egyptian language he was speaking. Quizzical, he returned his focus to Hermione again.

Tapping her shoulder, he muttered quietly: 'Can you speak it?' Still, expecting another long, descriptive explanation, he listened intently.

Hermione took a great breath of nervousness, now grinning as frenziedly as the couple before them. She spoke. 'Well – I can speak a little of it … most of it is hard to pronounce, especially most of what this guy is saying. But I can understand most of what he's saying. The teachers at Hogwarts would most probably have been taught this – and it would have surprised me if Dumbledore had known it either … that so to say, I couldn't Imagine anyone except people whom dedicate their whole life to this work, knows every word and letter in the alphabet.'

Stuck somewhere in confusion and awe of how much Hermione had learned behind his back, Harry returned his look back to the front again. Thirty minutes passed very slowly and boringly, during which time, the rings had been placed onto Bill's and Fleur's ring-fingers, and then followed shortly, was another speech, which Hermione explained was about the future for the two of them.

Harry could see tears spilling from Hermione's eyes, and turning to his friends, Ron merely rolled his eyes and Ginny smiled. They guessed the wedding was nearing to an end, and as it was, Ginny tugged on his jumper. Harry peered down, watching her redhead rest comfortably against him.

His insides tickled, squirming horribly yet satisfied as Harry spoke in a hushed voice. 'Ginny, you know, if we get by all this safe, could me and you…' he paused, glancing up at the front so he could get a good look at whether the wedding had finished yet. 'Could you and me start over? You know … the relationship?'

Ginny merely snuggled up further, remaining quiet with her arms pressed around Harry's back. He followed suit, resting his right arm against her shoulder, and the two of them stared up at the wedding front. Fleur and Bill were leaning in towards each other, and pecked each other lightly on the lips. There was an excitingly thunderous, lifting cheer and round of applause, as strange white objects that looked oddly like tissues flew into the air.

Everything seemed perfect – the moment – the cheering. Harry turned to Ginny once again: 'So, what do you say?'

'I say, wait and see.'

'Hmph. Just wait until—'

BANG!

Harry shot bolt up to his feet, turning his head quizzically yet alertly as an amber light fired just past him, barely scraping his cheek, and ending in a pounding loud crash as it hit the balcony. Screams of horror flew through the air, Harry's ears ringing violently as he felt tugs of his jumper. The Alter burst apart before his eyes, and Fleur, Bill and the priest, undoubtedly were thrown backwards onto the ground.

Everyone stood at this point, either glancing about to suspect the attacker, or attempting to aid the three whom had been targeted. Harry turned to face the back of the wedding isle, catching a glimpse of a rather, somewhat, smirking Tonks, but as he blinked, that feature disappeared, and was replaced oddly with a look of shock. There was a loud, fussy commotion, as people tried in their efforts to retreat from their seats and help Fleur and Bill.

The Alter was in shreds, and suddenly, a voice erupted from behind them: 'I'm so sorry!' Everyone turned, their eyes glaring at the person whose voice exclaimed the apology. Harry turned once more; almost each and every seat had been knocked over into the muddy ground, as their owners had abandoned their seats. 'I swear – I didn't mean – my wand – I.' Tonks was speaking, and already Ministry officers and Aurors were surrounding her, pointing accusing fingers at her.

'What just happened?' Hermione asked, standing beside Ron so she could observe the situation clearly. Harry walked hastily up to the circle of Ministry workers, followed shortly by Ron, Ginny and Hermione, whom all seemed to be in shock from the sudden change of atmosphere about the Burrow.

'Did Tonks do that?' Ginny asked, prodding at Harry. He didn't answer; he watched as a defending Lupin rushed into the argument, trailed swiftly by Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mad-eye, and many other adults as Bill and Fleur cleaned themselves down. There seemed to be no damage, except for an open wound on Bill's face, which had already been there from the werewolf attack prior term.

Shouting and cussing was being thrown about recklessly, Tonks stuck pin-point in the centre of it all. Harry turned his gaze to a rather flustered Hermione, then whispered: 'Was that spell…?' Harry paused; it had all happened so quickly – the red light firing just past his face … so close … he could feel an aftershock of pain from the spell in his jaw – but was so mild, he couldn't care less. 'Hermione – was that the Crucio curse?'

Hermione didn't reply instantly, her gawping was too intent on the group of huddled accusing and cursing. The shouting didn't die down – it lasted for almost an hour. Fleur and Bill had been sent into the Burrow to clear up and plan what to do next, and Harry, Hermione, the Weasley's and suspect had been detained in their rooms – or in Tonks's case, isolated in the dining room. Harry, peering out of the window and down onto the back garden, could still see and hear the muttering, but only in a hushed, muffled volume.

The sun was melting behind the horizon after another hour or so, and the raining had stopped completely, leaving a drowned set of arguing wizards and witches to discuss the recent set of events. Harry and Ron shared a room in the upper attic, surrounded gloomily by old, wooden sculptures, footlockers, collectables and a rather smashed-looking window. Redness shone vibrantly into the room, beating down in one, square-shaped location, but lit the room up a notch, brightening the contract of the once depressing debris.

Harry looked towards his redheaded, freckled friend, thinking his words through carefully, and then spoke. 'Ron, did you see anything at the Wedding?'

'Yes … I saw Fleur and Bill … and the Alter … and the priest. For god's sake, I couldn't understand that fool could—' Harry shot him a livid look that said 'don't-play-fool-with-me'. Ron sighed, and then continued. 'No … it happened too quickly. I only realised what had happened when someone screamed, because I wasn't looking at the front – I was talking with Hermione.' Ron froze, quickly adding: 'did you?'

'A bit,' Harry responded, grasping Ron's attention quite quickly. 'The spell scraped right past my face … hit the Alter. Tonks – I just dunno why she could have used the Crucio curse on a married couple.' Harry closed his eyes, thinking, 'she could have unintentionally done it. I mean, you know how clumsy she is.'

'Yes, but why on earth would she 'unintentionally' cast the Crucio curse? That is what the spell was – right?'

'I think so … it was a red light. That's Crucio.' Harry pondered aloud. 'But there are other red-lighted spells. It's just, when it skimmed my cheek, I could feel pain. Maybe she's under the Imperius Curse?'

'Doubt it. She's been acting pretty normal all day. She's back to her usual self – she was even hugging Lupin before. I doubt a Death Eater or whatever would use the Imperius Curse to hug Tonks's boyfriend.' Ron muttered, quickly adding with a smile: 'Unless they were desperate.'

'True … well, I just don't know. Anyway, I was planning on escaping the Burrow tomorrow – going to Godric's Hollow … wherever it is. Want to come?'

'Sure. Just remember to tell Hermione and Ginny and take your damned invisibility cloak this time.' Ron said.

'When have I ever left my invisibility cloak behind?'