Chapter 2

Old McDonald Was A Wizard (E-I-E-I-O)

Harry was already awake and nearly dressed when a pounding on his door startled him.

"Ron! Harry! Wake up! We are going to be late!" Harry opened the door and found himself facing a very surprised Hermione. "Oh." She said lamely. "You're already up."

Harry nodded, for this seemed the only appropriate response to her obvious statement.

"Where's Ron?" She asked, looking around the room. If Harry didn't know better he would think she looked almost disappointed.

"He's in the shower. He should be done soon. Don't worry Hermione, we won't be late."

Hermione looked relieved and replied "It's just that I promised Mrs. Weasley and Fleur that I would make sure you boys got to the fitting on time.

The entire bridal party, ushers, assorted Weasley family and various hangers-on had appointments at Madam Malkin's for a final fitting. Fleur and Bill's wedding was in a few days and Fleur and Molly were in a tizzy of preparations. Harry was a bit put out that the women didn't trust himself and Ron to manage to arrive on time. When he voiced this slight, Hermione responded by merely raising one eyebrow.

"What?" Harry asked indignantly, entering the hallway. "Ron and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves!"

Hermione looked at him sadly and shook her head "Such delusions. Shall I begin listing the many times I have had to cover for you two, or will you just admit defeat now?"

Harry was, thankfully, saved from being forced to admit defeat by the appearance of Ron. Or at least, Harry assumed it was Ron standing behind him. Hermione was staring at a spot just behind Harry's left shoulder. She looked somewhat stunned, and was breathing a bit heavily. Ron came closer, wearing nothing but a towel. He looked at Hermione oddly, then continued on past Harry into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Harry looked from the closed door to Hermione, and something clicked.

"So. You finally figured it out, have you?" He smirked at Hermione.

She shook her head at him. "I've known all along. It's your daft friend in there who can't see it."

"Then I guess its up to you to help him along Hermione.

She looked a bit petrified at the notion, but recovered quickly. "Stop teasing me finish getting dressed." She said firmly. Harry merely continued to smirk at her. "Go on then!" Harry conceded defeat. After all, he knew better than to get into a battle of wills with Hermione. He hadn't ever won against her, why keep trying?

Thirty minutes later, the trio was ready to depart. Hermione had since lost that mysterious flush in her cheeks, and her breathing rate was back down to normal. They all stood in the drawing room, and with one soft "pop," another loud one, and a small bit of complete silence, they apparated away.
Seconds later they appeared in Madam Malkin's to find a scene of complete and utter chaos. Weasleys, robes, Delacours and harried shop assistants were scattered about the small store. Numbers were being called out, Fred and George were trying to slip Canary Crèmes to just about anyone foolish enough to trust them, a sulky Gabrielle was sitting in the corner, and above all else, Fleur was sitting smack in the middle of the chaos, on the floor, crying her eyes out. She was wailing something about her dress being "'orrible." Ron and Harry froze in the middle of it all, on stimuli overload. Hermione, of course, swung into action. She summoned the Canary Crème that Fred was trying to give to Fleur's little cousin, picked up a screaming child and handed it to the frantic mother searching for her, and snagged a hassled-looking shop girl.

"Excuse me, miss" she said politely. The frazzled girl stopped and glanced at Hermione. Hermione took this as permission to continue speaking. "Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, ushers for the Delacour-Weasley wedding, are here for their 10:30 appointment. Shall we wait outside until someone is available to assist them?"

The shop girl nodded gratefully.

Hermione then made her day by adding "And we will take those two with us." She gestured at Fred and George. The shop girl looked like she wanted to kiss Hermione, but contented herself with nodding and moving on.

After much discussion, the twins were finally "persuaded" to come along nicely and wait outside. They passed the time by discussing the WWW (business was booming) and the latest products, a line of trick cosmetics that were guaranteed to make every girl look her worst. There was foundation that gave the appearance of warts and spots, waterproof mascara that would leave tracks down the girl's face as if she had been crying all afternoon, and lipstick that was guaranteed to come off on everything, especially men's dress shirts. They had borrowed the catchphrase directly from a Muggle line of cosmetics "Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's a Wizard's Wheeze"

Nearly forty-five minutes passed before an assistant called them in to be fitted. Most of the crowd had left, leaving only Bill, Fleur, Gabrielle (who was still sulking in the corner), Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Several tape measures began to go about their business, measuring the four boys unaided. The same shop girl who Hermione spoke with earlier was sitting behind the counter, grumbling about needing a headache potion.

The tape measure working on Harry stopped what it was doing and began to flutter mid-air, flashing different numbers. The numbers must have meant something to the shop girl, for she rose and retrieved a garment, handing it to Harry. It resembled a cross between his Hogwarts robes and a Muggle tuxedo. The girl gestured to a curtained off area. Harry took that to mean that he was to try on his robes back there.

Following the unspoken instructions, Harry crossed the room and entered the small cubicle. Kicking off his trainers and removing his clothes, Harry changed as quickly as possible. He exited the cubicle and found himself under the close scrutiny of Fleur, Mrs. Weasley and the shop girl, whose name he soon discovered was Ethel. The twins and Ron had disappeared. Harry assumed they must have received their robes in the short time it had taken Harry to change

"Ethel, I think the hem needs to be taken up a bit." Mrs. Weasley said, fussing with the bottom of Harry's robes. "Other than that, I think they look lovely. Don't you agree, my dear?" She added to Fleur.

"I agree Mrs. Weasley. 'arry looks vehry 'andsome." Fleur added throatily. Fleur and Molly had become quite close since Bill's accident. They were seen to be agreeing about all kinds of things in all kinds of places together. Fleur-the-Fairy-Princess and Molly-the-Ultimate-Mother agreed especially strongly on one thing. The Delacour-Weasley wedding was to be the grandest event in recent memory. Every detail was to be perfect, and these two women had dedicated themselves and their lives to ensuring their success in this endeavor. However, the other three women accompanying them were not as committed.

Ginny, who had been determinedly looking at a rack of robes in the corner ever since Harry entered the store, said nothing.

Gabrielle, who was still sulking in the corner, also said nothing.

For once, the two girls agreed on something.

Meanwhile Hermione, who was neither sulking nor ignoring anyone, simply sat in the corner, devouring the large tome she had brought along as a bit of "light reading."

Bill, who was sitting in the corner, attempting to look terribly interested, did not comment. After all, the women present did not ask for his opinion, and as befitting his role as groom, he did not feel inclined to give it. Bill was proving to be a highly intelligent man, well suited for married life.

Upon the agreement of all the women present (except those who were busy ignoring, sulking or reading) and the unspoken agreement of the lone male, Harry was pronounced perfect and sent back to change.

Ninety minutes later, the Weasley-Delacour wedding party was finally outfitted. Ron had tried on three different sets of robes before finding one that pleased Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. George had "accidentally" set the sleeve of one pair on fire. Gabrielle was still sulking (Harry still had not ascertained why), and Ginny had yet to say a single word. But the afternoon could be called a success. Molly and Fleur could mark one item off their considerable list, and Hermione had finished her book. All in all, a morning well spent.

Molly and Fleur still had "a few small errands" to run in Diagon Alley, so the rest of the group, minus Fred and George, was sent to The Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch and to wait on them. Fred and George returned to their shop, while everyone else ambled along towards the pub, hungry and relieved to escape the wedding mania for a bit. Harry, who was walking along next to Bill, was amused to notice the interested glances Bill received from several young ladies along the way.

They arrived at the pub, surprised to note how crowded it was. The group was un-able to sit all together so Ginny, Gabrielle and Bill squeezed in at the bar, while Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together at a very small table. Harry mentioned the looks he'd noticed Bill receiving and was surprised when Hermione laughed.

"Well, after all, without Fleur with him, how are they to know he's engaged."

Ron looked faintly confused "I'd think that…you know with the…" Ron, looking very uncomfortable, pantomimed scratching his face. Hermione merely laughed again.

"Don't be silly Ron. His scars are hardly disfiguring. Bill is still an extremely attractive man. Actually, the scars just make him look rather, well, dashing." Hermione looked slightly embarrassed to be admitting this, while Ron began to look outraged.

"So, you're fancying my brother now, is it?" He spat.

"Don't be ridiculous…" Hermione began, but Harry broke in.

"Oi! Guys! Break it up. Of course Hermione doesn't fancy your brother! He's engaged. Right Hermione?"

"Of course not." She confirmed. "Anyway, you should take it as a kind of a compliment. After all, excepting Fred and George, you and Bill look the most alike out of all your brothers." Hermione seemed to realize what she said half a second too late and began to panic. Fortunately the entrance of their waitress, coming to take their order saved her.

"Oh, great" She babbled "I'll have and order of fish and chips with a butter beer and I think that the boys are ready, aren't you? Do you know what you want or should we have the waitress come back when you are ready?"

Harry silently willed Hermione to breathe as he and Ron gave their orders to the confused waitress. The silence that followed was very awkward until the arrival of Bill, Ginny and Gabrielle broke it. The trio had failed to notice the patrons at the table adjoining theirs had finished and left.

The three newcomers sat down, and the awkwardness diminished somewhat. Well, as much as it could considering that Harry and Ginny were still determined to look anywhere but each other and Hermione seemed unable to look up from her place mat.

Gabrielle, who had finally stopped sulking, filled the silence with her grumbles. As it turned out, she was not going to be allowed to wear pink in the wedding. Apparently it was her best colour, but as Ginny was a redhead, Fleur would not allow pink. She claimed it looked "seemply 'orrible." Gabrielle, however, felt that the gold dress clashed with her silver hair, and this was terribly unfair. All in all, her chattering was worse than the sulking had been.

Sixty awkward minutes later, Fleur and Molly returned, shopping bags in tow (Literally. They had placed a "Follow Me" spell on their bags). The trio departed for Grimmauld Place, after several admonishments not to be late the next day. They had been enlisted to help make the favours to pass out at the reception. With two pops and a silent displacement of air, they were off.

The next afternoon Harry was sitting in the kitchen of the burrow, along with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Gabrielle working on wedding favours. The trio planned to spend the night there that evening, as the rehearsal dinner was to be the next day.

The favours to be were ornate silver picture frames containing Fleur and Bill's engagement photo and engraved with their names and the date of the wedding. Ginny and Gabrielle, unable to do magic, had the easy job of placing the photographs in the frame. Harry, Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, were using "caelio," the engraving spell. Hermione's spell produced a neat even script that flowed attractively across the frame. Ron's engraving tended to be backwards or upside down just as often as it was correct and Harry's were all just a bit crooked. Fortunately Hermione was as skilled in the counter curse as she was in the original spell. Secretly the boys felt that everyone would be far better off if Hermione would just do them all in the first place. Secretly, Hermione agreed.

As they were working, or attempting to work in some cases, Harry remembered something.

"Oh, I just remembered. We never did pick our classes for next term. McGonagall wanted to know our choices soon."

Ginny stiffened slightly in her chair while Ron simply looked stunned. "Hermione? Forget about classes? I never thought I would see the day." Hermione merely sniffed in response.

Crookshanks, who was staying at the Burrow until term started, made a point of snubbing Ron, then, feeling his point had been made, left, presumably in search of gnomes.

After much deliberation and debate, their classes were decided. They would all be taking Transfiguration and Defense Against Dark Arts. Hermione refused adamantly to give up either Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, so she would be taking both. Harry wanted to take Charms, so he was signing up for that. Ron felt that they should try to spread themselves out a bit, kind of a "Hey! Look at me! I'm at Hogwarts! Not Searching for a way to defeat Voldemort! No Sirree" as he put it. Therefore, Ron was going to take Herbology.

If Ginny wondered why they were taking so few classes this next term, she did not question it.

If Gabrielle cared one lick about their classes, she did not mention it.

At long last, the favours were finished. Harry had finally, after what felt like hundreds of mistakes, gotten his engraving almost straight and Ron was starting to get more letters facing the right way than not. They boxed up their efforts quickly and headed up to their respective bedrooms, as it was quite late.

Harry took another sip of his wine after yet another Weasley made yet another toast. The world was starting to get a bit spinny, but it would be rude for him not to keep drinking if they were going to keep toasting!

The rehearsal hadn't been as bad as he expected. For him anyway. Being just an usher meant that he had few duties the next day. Ginny on the other hand had looked miserable. Fleur's mother, Bianca, and Mrs. Weasley had made her walk down the aisle at least half a dozen times, until she got it "right." Harry couldn't see any difference between the first time she walked and the last, but the women were finally happy. Then Ginny had been forced to stand at attention, holding a fake bouquet of flowers in extremely high heels for the better part of two hours.

Fortunately Harry had been sitting in the audience with Ron and Hermione for that entire time. Fortunate for two reasons: One, that he had been under the radar of the obsessive perfectionist women running this show, and two, that he could observe Ginny surreptitiously. She had looked beautiful even when grumpy. Harry tried to keep his thoughts far from her and their short time together, but he failed miserably. Even so, not a bad way to wile away the afternoon.

The rehearsal dinner, on the other hand, was the greatest thing ever invented, in Harry's opinion. The food was great, and it was a perfect opportunity for the friends and family of Fleur and Bill to basically just embarrass the hell out of them. Their family told embarrassing tales of the couple's childhood, disguised as "toasts" and after each one, everyone got to drink. Harry thought this was all a great idea. By the time deserts came, Harry was sloshed and happy, with a big plateful of treacle tart. He had never felt better.

He had never felt worse. Harry woke up the next morning with a dead rodent in his mouth. He tried to spit it out, then realized it was not a rodent, but his tongue. The action of attempting to spit caused his head to split in half and waves of nausea to roll through his stomach. He opened his eyes and decided that was a Very Bad Idea. Another wave of nausea attacked and he found himself dashing to the toilet. He made it just in time.

The cold tile of the bathroom floor felt strangely comforting. Harry decided that this was a good place to stay for a while. Until some more nausea hit, and he was forced to move again.

After some time, and a few more offerings to the porcelain gods, Harry felt better enough to venture downstairs. He immediately regretted it. The smell of scrambled eggs almost did him in, but he managed to win that battle. The real problem was the light. Sunlight streamed through the windows in the kitchen and Harry felt like he was going to die.

"Is it always this bright in the morning?" He mumbled.

Ron looked dumbly at him. He looked about as good as Harry felt.

Hermione clucked her tongue at him.

"Thank heavens we covered this in Transfiguration last term." She said, waving her wand. Where there was nothing, appeared a paper bag and two paper cups. The boys looked at her questioningly.

"McDonalds." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Muggle fast food. Just eat it, you will feel much better afterwards."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and reached for the food.

Harry opened his bag and looked at Hermione. "How are chips going to make me feel better?" He wanted to know.

Hermione sighed "Just trust me, ok?"

Harry ate a few chips, and did, in fact, begin to feel better. A few slurps of his coke later and he was convinced that this McDonald guy must really be a wizard.

"Hey Hermione," Ron said through a mouthful of chips "What book did you read this in? This is better than a hangover potion!"

Hermione turned red and refused to answer. Ron pressed repeatedly for an answer, and each time she seemed to get a bit more flustered. Finally Harry took pity and changed the subject.

"So shouldn't we be getting dressed? The guests are supposed to start arriving at four. I'm sure your mum and Mrs. Delacour are going to have plenty for us to do before then."

The trio headed up the stairs to get dressed for the day. As Hermione headed into Ginny's room, she shot Harry what was unmistakably a grateful look.

"So…" Ron began "How do you think Hermione knew about that Muggle stuff?"

"Well," Harry replied "I hear they have some pretty crazy parties at Durmstrang."

He dashed up the stairs and into Ron's room before Ron managed to work out exactly what Harry was implying.

a/n "i love emma watson" thanks for your review (; im not sure exactly what the "it" is you were asking about, but maybe this chapter answers your question? thanks for reading though!