A/N: Thank you to the (few) people who reviewed! I'm terribly flattered.
"Wake up, mate," Ron grunted from his side of the room. Harry rolled over and groaned.
"Why, what time is it?" Harry noticed that Ron had his face hidden in the shadows. "I thought we went to bed pretty early."
"Oh, we did, but mum wants us to help with the decorations."
Decorations? "Wh—what decorations?" Harry felt himself panicking slightly. He realized, for the first time, that this was the first wedding he ever attended.
"The flowers, the chairs, making anti-intrusion spells look pretty," said Ron with a grimace, "the usual."
Harry sat up and ruffled his hair, watching Ron pull on his socks and shoes. He grinned suddenly. "Hey, you're okay with Bill marrying Fleur, right?" Ron never seemed to quite shake off the side effects from being around a part-veela. Hermione never seemed to quite forgive Ron for acting like a blind, deaf, and mute around Fleur.
"Why! Do you reckon that I'm not alright?" Ron said anxiously. "Do I look like I care too much for her—I mean, for the wedding?"
"Ron, it's perfectly natural to fancy a veela," Hermione's voice purred from the door. She was carrying a load of laundry. "You're an adolescent, and still very immature. Why else does she only affect you?"
Ron flushed. "I don't—I don't fancy Fleur," he began hotly. "I thought we went over this before, 'Mione!"
Hermione ignored him. "Here are your dress robes—no Ron, you're wearing your new ones—and clean socks. Mrs. Weasley wants you to keep them nice up until the last minute, so don't wear them yet."
"Um—Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. "What does it mean by helping to decorate?"
With a loud crack, Fred and George apparated into the room. "Hey, look, we're all here!" exclaimed Fred with contagious cheer.
"Up yet, Harry?" said George pleasantly. "I'm rather tired of Mum shouting only at us."
"What do you mean, only you two?" Ginny huffed, emerging from the doorway with white flowers tangled in her hair. "I don't see you guys being yelled at for having too much hair."
Ron glared at everyone. "Hey, we don't need any help getting dressed here!"
Harry was quite aware that he was in his pajamas in front of Ginny. He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it. "We'll be right out, don't worry."
Hermione, George, and Fred apparated, leaving Ginny looking annoyed. "I hate it when I'm the only one who has to walk down the stairs." She turned around and left, yanking an entwined rose out of her hair.
Harry and Ron finished dressing in the comfortable silence that followed. Harry stopped in front of the window, puzzled. He knew there was something missing—
"We got rid of that ghoul in the attic," said Ron behind him, as if reading his mind. "We paid a few professional exterminators—Mum's really happy about Dad's promotion now."
"There are paid professionals who get rid of ghouls in attics?" Harry said relatively calmly. He was quite used to remarkable statements said in matter-of-fact way.
"Oh, yeah. They do ghosts, poltergeists, and disembodied voices, too—" Ron paused, stretching his arm to the top of this dresser to snatch at his wand, "—although for poltergeists they ask for a lot more. Imagine trying to chase Peeves out of Hogwarts."
They jumped when a shriek rose from the field just outside of their window. Hurrying over, they saw a cloud of darkness enveloping Mrs. Weasley and the twins racing gleefully away from her.
"Looks like they need our help." Harry watched Ron apparate, and apparated himself. Technically, since he hadn't passed his apparition exam, he wasn't supposed to, but the Ministry gave precious little attention to apparitions these days. In the case that an illegal apparition occurred, it was dismissed as something unavoidable, especially with Death Eaters running around.
Outside, the blanket of Peruvian Darkness Powder had dissipated, revealing a Mrs. Weasley swelling in rage. Mr. Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet distractedly and bumping into chairs that George kept conjuring from afar to place in his way on purpose. Everyone else was running around trying to get things set up.
"Who else is coming, by the way?" asked Harry, turning to Ron.
"Some of the Order, I think, but not all, because Moody doesn't like the idea of putting all of the members in one place. Too convenient, he says. But I know for sure that Tonks, Lupin, and Fleur's family are coming."
Harry understood Moody's concern. After all, Death Eaters could penetrate through Muggle-repelling charms. He decided after a moment of consternation that everyone needed some relief.
Fleur stood next to the arch that she and Bill were supposed to be married under. A wrinkle appeared on her otherwise flawless forehead.
"Zees eez too small," she decided after a while. She flicked her wand casually, and a magnificent, gilded, canopied one took its place. Mrs. Weasley, turning around, looked as if she'd been run over by a truck. She closed her eyes, and Harry could tell that she was counting to ten.
"Fleur, dear, don't you think that it's—well, that this is a little too much?" Mrs. Weasley said with clenched teeth and a forced smile. "It will take the attention away from that beautiful dress and tiara."
Fleur considered this, another wrinkle appearing on her nose. She tapped her chin and placed a delicate hand on her hip. She then smiled broadly.
"You know, I theenk zat you are right!" With a small pop, the old archway reappeared, the grand one disappearing.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had just joined them, surveyed the scene with amusement.
"Almost makes you want to avoid getting married, doesn't it," said Hermione. Ron glanced swiftly at her. Harry noticed a faint smile lurking around Hermione's mouth with a jolt. "Well . . . looking at this crowd, it doesn't."
Ron and Hermione, huh, thought Harry. It was too preposterous to even think of; his two best friends getting married was a notion that Harry quickly erased from his head. (A/N: smirk)
A few hours later, Harry rushed up to Ron's room to wash up and dress. He was sweaty from de-gnoming the garden while Mrs. Weasley plucked various bunches of flowers, muttering and humming alternately. Ron was stuck with arranging the flowers and binding them to the rows of chairs with a sticking charm, which Hermione secretly redid behind him with her own.
Harry had just finished pulling on his dress robes, trying to dry his hair. He finally retreated to using a towel. It was one thing to not be allowed to dry his hair with magic, but it was quite another to be allowed and founding out that you were incapable of doing so. Rubbing his hair morosely, he heard a sharp rap at the door. He just strode over to open it when Ginny flew inside.
Her long red hair was elaborately curled, flowing down her shoulders. Harry gazed for awhile, and finally managed to cough out:
"So no white roses in your hair?"
Harry dimly registered Ginny's nostrils flaring before she began to fume. She shook out a dress in front of Harry and thrust it at his face.
"This is what she wants me to wear!"
It was the "pale gold" dress that Fleur mentioned last Christmas. It was a very beautiful affair, silken and light, but the cut was—flattering, to say the least.
"I think it looks . . . fine," said Harry uncertainly. "Why don't you try it on, Ginny?"
Ginny swept the dress from his face, and tossed her hair. She rolled her eyes and muttered "Men!" under her breath. She turned around to leave, and eyed the towel hanging by Harry's side. Pointing her wand at his hair, she sighed. Harry immediately felt his wet hair dry (perhaps to a bit of an extreme; it assumed a straw-like texture). (A/N: Remember in book VI, we found out that underage magic would only be caught if there were no wizards around, so Ginny's drying spell would not have been detected.) Before he could utter a sheepish thanks, she left. Ron suddenly materialized.
"Saw that, didn't you," he said furiously. "NO little sister of mine is going to wear something like that!"
Harry tried to nod his head in agreement. Fortunately, Ron was pacing around the carpet, shaking his head. "She can't be serious. Gabrielle is, like, eleven!"
They heard Mr. Weasley's wearied voice from below. "Boys, hurry up! Your mother wants you down right away to—er—inspect you."
Ron was still breathing heavily when they apparated to the now-ready lawn. Mr. Weasley looked apologetic as his wife hurtled at them, brushing Ron's hair and clucking impatiently at Harry's hopeless case. She adjusted their collars and picked off nonexistent specks of dust lovingly, and drew back to admire them. Harry was just beginning to feel self-conscious when Hermione, in her new lavender robes, met up with them. She seemed to blush slightly under Ron's gaze, but gently ushered out a young girl from behind her.
"This is Gabrielle, Fleur's sister." Hermione smiled indulgently down at her. "Gabrielle, do you remember Ron and Harry? Ron was underwater with you a few years ago during the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry saved you."
Gabrielle was the spitting image of her older sister. Harry could tell that she would be just as lovely as Fleur, and hoped that Hermione's affection wouldn't disappear because Ron had another veela to deal with.
"Hello, 'Arry, and Ron," she spoke, revealing rows of tiny, perfect teeth. Her dress, Harry saw with relief, was less of—or rather, more of—a dress than Ginny's. A bouquet of white roses and lilies was dangling elegantly from her fingers. "It eez wonderful to meet again. Well, I must 'elp my sister get ready."
"You'd better sit down, you two," said Hermione as they watched the girl prance daintily away. "Tonks and Lupin are already seated." She pointed at the cluster of tables.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron made their way to the Auror and old professor. Harry noticed that Lupin was looking less peaky than normal, and that Tonks had changed her short pink hair to glossy brown locks for the occasion. They waved at the three to their table.
"Wotcher, Harry," said Tonks. She was smiling again, and was seated very close to Lupin. Harry inwardly grinned at the fact that his father's last remaining best friend was not quite alone in the world any more.
"Quite a gathering today, don't you think?" They followed Lupin's gaze to what had to be Fleur's parents and the Weasleys trying to communicate. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, broken by a shaky laugh from Mrs. Weasley. A few words and several mimes later, they seemed to be getting along fine, although Mrs. Weasley was eying Mrs. Delacour's fairy-like shoes with disdain bordering on jealousy. A few paces from them, Charlie and Kingsley Shacklebolt were talking animatedly next to a brooding Alastor Moody. His special eye was roving around rather sickly, throwing an arm across Charlie and Kingsley occasionally and speaking intently in their ears. The two looked like they were humoring him.
The plush lawn was soon filled with a small amount of people, chattering and laughing easily. Harry found himself seated next to Great Auntie Muriel, whose protruding stomach made a shelf that she rested her hands upon. She was a kindly woman who had a tendency to pinch Hermione's cheek and kiss an embarrassed Ron at intervals. Finding Harry next to her, she was taken aback for a minute, but did not make any remarks denoting his unusual celebrity.
A hush sped quickly through the tables when Fleur, Ginny, and Gabrielle made their debut. Fleur carried herself with a smugness that left no one puzzled; Great Auntie Muriel's goblin-made tiara sparkled spectacularly in the sunlight, although it did not entirely eclipse Fleur's veela-induced beauty. Ginny smiled through her teeth, but Harry could tell that she was hiding a very disgruntled state of mind. He tried not to think too much about how—she—looked in her dress, which appeared to be altered carefully. He thought that it would be unseemly, especially with her brother sitting close to him, so he focused instead on Fleur's glowing tiara. It made his eyes hurt so much that he couldn't see, anyway.
(A/N: Ms. Rowling has yet to elaborate on wizarding weddings, so I'll zoom through the customary details.)
The ceremony was simple; Bill's and Fleur's "I do's" were very genuine, and left Mrs. Weasley in a pool of her own sobs. A pained expression flitted across the bride's father's face when the couple finally kissed, but he clapped hard with the rest. They stood up from their seats much later to watch Fleur and Bill walk, hand in hand, to a special clearing in the meadow. A bright array of sparks flew when they apparated, (although Harry missed it when he blinked his eyes. This was not something he expected.) which shaped themselves into a sign: "JUST MARRIED—OFF TO THE PYRENEES!"
By this time, it was dusk and the guests were becoming noticeably nervous. One by one, they hurriedly said their goodbyes to the Weasleys and Delacours, apparating suddenly. Even before the first star showed, the field was empty except for a few tipsy stragglers.
Mrs. Weasley cleared the table setting with a wave of her wand, nearly leaving Ron to tumble onto the floor. He scowled as he tottered unsteadily, trying to regain his balance after the chair disappeared from under him. Hermione grasped his arms tightly.
"It's your fault for not getting up to help with the cleaning." Ron scowled again, but a faint pink tinged his cheeks when Hermione released him a little too casually.
The night air was chilling; they were herded roughly inside by Mrs. Weasley. While they were standing around the fire in the hearth that only emitted light, Hermione looked up suddenly.
"You know, I've always wanted to go to the Pyrenees Mountains on my—"
Before she could drop another shameless hint, Harry hastily changed the subject.
"Does anyone actually know where Godric's Hollow is?"
A/N: Ron and Hermione are really much too young to be thinking about marriage, but then if you think about it, Fleur is only around twenty. And like Mrs. Weasley said in book VI, the threat of Voldemort was causing everyone left and right to rush into a permanent relationship. But I doubt that a lot will happen between them—Lupin and Tonks are first!