Gigi Ardeur hadn't changed much, since her days at Hogwarts. She still took pride in herself for intelligence, she still had a tendency to think before acting (most of the time), her temper was still fiery when provoked, and she thought she continued to harbor contempt for Fred Weasley. Even now, at 25 years of age, it hadn't disappeared. Although it had grown dormant, and the woman barely remembered the extent of her dislike, it was still inside, just waiting for the opportunity to spill out again.
Today was a nice opportunity. Paige McOwen was Gigi's best friend, and had been since childhood. On this fateful summer day, the vibrant young female was to be married, to none other than George Weasley. They were very much in love, and neither of them had any real idea of the disaster that would engulf the wedding party. For the element of surprise, neither would tell the other whom their side of the wedding was, as far as Maid of Honor and Best Man were concerned. Naturally, then, neither Gigi nor Fred had much to go on to know who they would be paired with. Until the actual wedding ceremony, that is.
Miss Ardeur had just arrived where Paige and George had decided to have everything: the Burrow. If a church had been aware of their magical heritage, they certainly wouldn't have been granted any access to the sanctuary for this. It went against religions, wizardry and such. So the Burrow had been chosen, and it was only now that Gigi began to wonder, with a sick feeling that settled in her stomach, what Fred's part in the ceremony would be. Lord knows he would have one; he was George's twin brother, after all. Please let it not have to do that much with me, she thought, I'm still not exactly fond of him.
As she walked closer to the Weasley family home, she could see her friend on the porch. Paige was cuddling with her husband-to-be, looking rather happy indeed. Gigi would've had to admit that they made an adorable couple. For a fleeting moment she was even jealous of the love her dearest friend had found, and bitter disdain churned inside of her with such thoughts. Love had not been too kind to Gigi. 25 years old, and she hadn't had anything close to a relationship since Hogwarts, and that had only been quick, pointless dates to various balls.
Nobody liked a perfect kid.
Gigi pushed the negativity out of her mind. This was Paige's wedding day, and Gigi would not let her bad luck dampen the mood. Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions, were they not?
"I thought the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding?" Gigi asked as she drew closer to the couple. Paige jerked her head off of George's shoulder and grinned, with a wave.
"Yeah, well, we're the exception," she replied. She had her fingers linked with George's and squeezed his hand happily, to which George returned the sign of affection and smiled.
"You need to get ready, then," he said, and moved to stand. He tugged Paige up with him, and she nodded with a light smile of her own. "Go on. We can't get married if we don't do anything." After a quick kiss, Paige had grabbed Gigi's hand, and pulled her along to the bride's area.
"So how does it feel to be getting married?" Gigi figured she could at least try to be happy by making conversation, and Paige's happiness was overwhelming. A grin was plastered onto her face and it didn't seem like it would be leaving anytime soon.
"Oh, Gigi, it's wonderful," she said, in a blissful sigh. "George is amazing. He's incredibly dedicated and loving, and it's so obvious how much he loves me. This just verifies it all." Gigi bit back her spiteful remarks on how she was left alone, and forced a smile.
"Well, I'm very happy for you. Really, I am," she confirmed, as she looked over the gorgeous white gown that Paige was to wear. "Remember how we'd always dream of being Maid of Honor at each other's wedding? At least it's coming true for one of us."
"Oh, Gigi," Paige sighed. This time it wasn't as cheerful. "Don't think like that. Your guy is bound to come along sometime." Gigi shrugged. Did she believe what Paige was saying? After this long and not even anything past first dates, Gigi was having second thoughts on the whole "Prince Charming" Theory. Perhaps she needed to cut back on what she wanted. Not every guy that came along could meet up to every single one of her expectations, immediately. If she stopped being so picky, maybe – probably – she would have better luck in the romance field.
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't talk like that when we're supposed to be getting ready – Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to have this on by now?"
Eventually, the girls were ready, and the ceremony could begin. Due to a slight inconvenience, however, it wasn't close to starting.
"There is no way I'm being escorted by him," Gigi insisted, a miserable look present on her face.
"You don't have to," Paige began, pausing before she went on. "The Maid of Honor walks by herself." Well, that was a relief. Gigi allowed herself to relax.
"I can live now." Paige seemed to hesitate, then. Gigi couldn't imagine why. What was there for Paige to possibly hesitate over?
"There's one thing, though… You have to dance with him." Ah, well, that was something to hesitate over.
"What?" Gigi cried in horrified shock. "I have to dance with Fred? Paige! How could you go through with something like this?" The bride rolled her emerald eyes in slight apathy.
"In case you forgot, Gigi, this is my wedding, and no offense to you, I'm not going to go out of the way to make sure you're happy. Save it for when you're the one getting married." She turned and walked away, in the direction of her potential mother-in-law.
Wow. Paige was being quite unsympathetic to Gigi's feud. Gigi just stood there, at first, as the words sunk into her mind. Basically, she was stuck dancing with Fred, whether she wanted to or not, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. As the saying went, "grin and bear it."
Of course, it wasn't as if Fred was any happier about it than Gigi was.
"Her?" Fred groaned, while he ran his hand back through his ginger hair. "You've got to be kidding me." George shook his head, although reluctant to do so.
"I wish I were, mate, but I'm serious," he said. Poor Fred. he thought. At least they don't have an arranged marriage like medieval times. Fred groaned again. Not Gigi Ardeur. Anyone but Gigi Ardeur.
"Blood hell," grumbled the disgruntled male. "I might as well dance with a werewolf."
"Come off it, Fred. She can't be that bad. Besides you haven't seen her for eight years," George mused, with a light smirk. Fred looked at him incredulously and blinked.
"Yes she can, George," he said. "Yes she can. And you let me get stuck having to dance with her!" He glared at his brother in a hurt sort of way, and George rolled his eyes.
"It's for once dance. You're not going to die from one dance."
"You never know. She could be one of those psychopaths that kill based on their hate for someone…"
"Fred, Gigi's not a psychotic murderer hell-bent on getting rid of you because of how much she didn't like you at school," George sighed. Frustration in his voice was obvious, and he shook his head slightly. "Now will you please let it go so we can start the wedding? I'd rather not wait all day."
After a while, the wedding had gotten underway, and Paige was declared Mrs. George Weasley. It was true that there had been a relatively small number of guests, but the tradition of a greeting line was put into effect. The wedding party had stood there for a good hour, perhaps longer, chatting and laughing with people who cared to speak to them. Then came the reception, which was, in short, the part that both Fred and Gigi were dreading.
The food came and went. The toasts to the newlyweds flew by just as fast. The dancing came all too soon, and Paige and George had to practically drag Fred and Gigi with them.
"Will you stop being so immature?" Paige hissed in Gigi's ear. "It's the wedding party dance. You're the Maid of Honor, and Fred's the Best Man. Dance together, and stop being such a brat." Was she being a brat? Gigi wondered if she was or not. Something urged her to snap back at Paige and proclaim that she was certainly not being bratty or something so petty, but in truth, she knew she was being rather ridiculous about the whole thing. With a meek nod, Gigi decided she might as well cooperate. George had had something of the same short conversation with Fred, who had more than likely thought along the same lines as Gigi. Cooperation did indeed seem to be the best option here. They looked at each other, hesitant. Do I really have to do this? He's so…ugh. Gigi thought, cringing inside. Why did she have to pick her to be Maid of Honor? Fred wondered. George shot him a look, as the music began softly, which cued the couples to begin dancing. Fred now had no choice but to take up Gigi's hand, and now neither of them had any other option than to dance. The music intensified gradually in volume, so it could actually be heard. Gigi couldn't help but notice how happy everyone else seemed to be. Paige, who was significantly shorter than George, never took her eyes off of George, while he simply stared back at her. Neither of them seemed to take notice of anyone else's existence in the world right now. Cute. Gigi thought. I wish I could be like that with someone. A small smile had crawled onto her face by the time she looked away, and her eyes had only one person to land on: Fred, of course.
Ironically, thoughts that were uncannily like Gigi's were running through his mind. Look at them. he said to himself. They're perfect for each other. They really are, even if Paige is a prat… I guess she can't be all that bad, if George can love her as much as he does. He shook himself out of this emotional state of thinking, and looked down at Gigi. He noticed her hair, how dark it was and how the curls cascaded just so around her face and body. It came down to her mid-back. He noticed her eyes, how intense their silvery color was. A small, barely noticeable green ring went around her pupil, and he had to really search for that. She's really quite pretty. he thought. Wait a minute. What am I saying? This is Gigi Ardeur. She's not pretty! Fred abruptly tore his eyes away from hers and stopped the study of her face, watching those around him rather than the distracting woman in front of him, whose hand he was obligated to hold until the dance was finished and whose waist he was obligated to keep his arm around. Humiliating, considering the status between the two.
I forgot how many freckles he has. Gigi thought to herself, as she almost smiled. They're cute. His hair is gorgeous, too. It was hard to keep her eyes away from him. Hard, but not impossible. Gigi was managing to do so somehow, after all.
After a while, though, it was hopeless for the both of them, and their eyes traveled right back to straight forward and therefore at each other.
"You know," Fred began, "your eyes are really pretty." What'd you say that for? Bloody hell, Gigi isn't supposed to be pretty. You're supposed to be calling her Greasy and insulting her. Even with such thoughts, he couldn't help but smile a little when he saw the slight grin that formed on Gigi's face.
"Aw, thank you… Nobody's really commented much on my eyes before," she replied. In all honesty, she was exceptionally flattered, even if he was Fred Weasley and she still strongly disliked him.
"Yeah, they're like… the color of sickles," Fred went on, and instantly Gigi frowned. Sickles? Her eyes reminded him of silver sickles? Uh! Was that the best thing he could think of?
"Sickles?" she repeated him. Her facial expression clearly read 'you must be joking.' "My eyes remind you of silver sickles?" Fred's face flushed. That had been a brilliant move on his part. What kind of man compared a woman's eyes to a form of currency?
"At least I could think of anything at all," he muttered. God, this was embarrassing.
"You could've come up with something better than that!"
"It was the first thing that came to mind. Give me a break."
"You could at least apologize!"
"What for, trying to compliment you? You want me to say I'm sorry for trying to be nice to you?"
"I want you to apologize for comparing my eyes to money!"
Obviously they were mad at each other, and their voices had escalated to drown out the music – that was no longer playing, either way. The dance had ended a moment or so ago, and the argument between the two was watched by everyone. The concept of being civil toward one another had made itself scarce.
"Just shut up, alright? I don't want to hear you screeching at me over your stupid eyes!" Fred finally snapped, a glare shot at his verbal opponent.
"Fine! It's not like I want to deal with your hopeless immaturity, anyway!" Both of them turned and stalked off in the opposite directions.
Paige had witnessed all of this, and looked at George with a look of despair. This had been an utmost disaster, and both of them knew it all too well. At least, had either of them the need to be married again, they knew a mistake not to make a second time.