Disclaimer: Everything here (besides the few things you don't know) belongs to JK Rowling, creator of the worlds of Harry Potter.
A/N: Well, my friends, the end is near, and this story must soon face the final curtain. This is the last chapter. Next week will be the Epilogue and that is where Tale of a Time Long Gone must end. This is not a final goodbye to you all, but prepare yourselves for it, as I must myself…
Chapter is from Ceri's point of view.
Enjoy!
Chapter 30 – In Life and Death
"Nowadays, young witches and wizards prefer the various Muggle ceremonies over the traditional Wizard Bonding. They deem it too complex and too tedious to follow.
"In the olden days, however, all magical folk were married by the ancient lore.
"The conductor of the ceremony was always the village or community elder - a man, of course. In the conductor's power was to annul the marriage, were it deemed unworthy. The conductor had a staff of office - a cleanly cut branch of Oak or Birch - and he usually wore a wreath of oak leaves around his head.
"The ceremony was an intricate procedure, containing many texts, incantations and oaths. It is widely believed that it was created by Merlin, and while his name is blessed throughout the country, many a young wizard and witch had cursed him while standing for hours just so they could be wedded…"
- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown
"What… did you say?" Ceri let out with difficulty, not quite believing her ears.
"I said no, Ceri," Godric said firmly.
Never in her life did Ceri doubt her father's judgment. Until now. He always seemed to her fair and reasonable, but - but this!
"No?" much like her mother, when angry, her voice became deceptively calm - right before she would shout herself hoarse. "You will refuse me this one wish? When I never asked one thing of you?"
"I will not have this man as your husband!" he thundered.
Even though she would never admit it, Ceri was frightened at that moment. A fear so strong that it had overridden her anger as it engulfed her. For her, Godric Gryffindor was simply a grand name which had some vague connection to her - a title given more than a name. She had never seen in him what others had seen, that frightening spectacle of the battle against the Council. To her he had always been that cheerful man with the mane of black hair and twinkling eyes that had held her up on his shoulders so that she would be able to watch her mother dueling Aunt Helga in occasional exhibitions meant to teach the students the realities of battle. He was always the one to crack a joke at the dinner table and cause her to splutter her food on everything and everyone around her, making her mother sigh exasperatedly and clean the mess with a whoosh of her wand. The same man who had chased her around the school in an impromptu game of hide-and-seek or taught her how to play Wizard Chess. Her father.
Not this time, though. Now his wild mane seemed to move in a nonexistent gale and his blue eyes received a frozen edge, one she had only seen directed at people who came demanding things of him without any right. He seemed to stand up straighter than she had ever seen him and to fill the entire room with his presence. She now saw for the first and only time the image everyone else had seen whenever looking at him. Not a loving father, not a gentle man with nothing but admiration in him, but the great wizard and fearsome opponent of Ambrosius, Godric Gryffindor.
"It's not your choice to make!" she bravely confronted him, though her voice felt too squeaky to her ears. "I love him!"
"You know nothing about love!" he spat, his eyes blazing as he strode nearer her, making her back away unconsciously. "You are not even eighteen."
"Since when does love know boundaries?" she demanded, now on firmer ground, glad to be given that opening, now thinking herself able to make a stand. "You married Mother late - but Grandmother and Grandfather were married at seventeen! She told me!"
"Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga!" he roared just like the lion he had chosen as his symbol. "You will not marry this potter's son and that is my final word on the subject! I will not hear you utter his name in my vicinity, and so help me Merlin, I will do whatever is necessary to keep him away from you. Do not give me cause to do this!"
She could practically feel the eyes of all her forefathers staring down at her disdainfully in the mere tone of her father's voice, telling her she is the shame of their line. Her determination to stand against his decision wavered, her body knowing that which her mind refused to admit. Glancing at her brother for support, and finding no comfort in those unusually cold eyes, she let out a mute cry of despair and ran out of her father's study and out, through the empty, cold corridors, to the grounds of the Castle. She needed to be out and by herself for a while, to recompose herself, to make a plan of attack. She needed to think clearly, but all she could do, so she found as she fell to her knees by the tree on the shore of the lake, was cry bitterly, knowing that there was no swaying her father once he had decided on something.
She went to her father first because it seemed to be the logical thing to do. Her mother was a dominant figure in her life, that much was true, but her father was always the one whose approval she looked for since it was always slightly easier than going to her mother. Mother had always been a strict person. Loving, but extremely stern. Now she deemed it a terrible mistake.
"You were wrong in going to Godric first, dear child," a quiet voice startled Ceri out of her moodiness, confirming her inner thoughts. She whirled around to face her Aunt Helga who was leaning on the other side of the tree with her arms crossed, to all purposes staring at the cloudy sky.
The older woman was always a favourite of Ceri. She was always cheerful and had a kind word to whoever needed it. She had time for everybody - not just for her own children who were like cousins to Ceri. She was almost like a second mother to her, pampering her as her mother rarely did. She did not wonder how she could have known of Ceri and Godric's argument. The three founders of Hogwarts always seemed to know everything that went around them, whether it was their business or not.
"Why?" Ceri asked timidly, partly knowing the reason and afraid to meet her aunt's eyes.
"Because such things are best taken to Rowena first," Helga said lightly, kneeling beside Ceri and touching a soft hand to her cheek. "She would have had no trouble at all making Godric listen and accept that which is so obvious, if only you would have gone to her first. She had been keeping it a secret for very long just so you could be happy. Don't prove her wrong."
It was something that Ceri had not expected. "But Mother always does everything Father tells her!" she burst, unable to stop herself.
Helga raised an eyebrow. "Does she, really? Isn't that curious? I never noticed that."
"Doesn't she?" Ceri asked in puzzlement.
Helga laughed. "Oh, love, you have so much yet to learn. You children think you know everything about everything. It reminds me of your mother when she had been younger. But truly, Ceri, Rowena Ravenclaw? Do something Godric Gryffindor tells her to do without argument? You have got to be jesting. It is the other way around. Oh, naturally Rowena lets him tell her things and order you children around, but why do you think he changes his mind so often, saying he reconsidered the next day? There is an art to that, as I understand it. I never needed it with Ilar, but your parents being who they are… Go to your mother, dear. See if he does not change his mind."
Ceri was not sure of how to take Helga's words. It always seemed to her and Ryan that their mother deferred to their father a lot. It looked like the natural way of things in the house. The idea that it was actually the other way around was strange even to consider. She would need to ask her mother about that 'art' of hers - that is, after she would see if it really did work, and at the moment, her doubts were great.
"Where can I find Mother?" she finally asked, lifting her eyes to meet those of her aunt.
"Where else?" Helga chuckled, patting her shoulder and then getting up to her feet so that she could leave. "In her drawing room, studying this or that. You should know better than ask, Ceri. You know your mother well."
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"Mother?" Ceri called softly, a slight tremour in her voice. Where did that disturbance in her voice come from? She never had any trouble conversing with her mother and surely not since Rowena had witnessed Aiden and Ceri doing certain things that should not be mentioned to Godric in a deserted corridor. They had many a conversation concerning the physical side of a relationship after that, and Rowena had set certain boundaries to that, causing Ceridwen to blush quite a bit with her bluntness. Only now did Ceri truly perceive what a mistake it had been to go to Godric instead of Rowena. Rowena had known it was coming a long time before Ceridwen did. Aunt Helga was right.
She was standing in her mother's circular drawing room, her eyes darting this way and that, wondering where in Merlin's name could her mother be. "Mother?" she called again, this time the tremour growing much more pronounced, her voice wavering this way and that like a young tree in the wind. "Are you in here? Aunt Helga said you will be. Mother?"
"Up here, love," a voice drifted hazily from the direction of the ceiling.
Startled, Ceri looked up and her eyes widened in shock when they met the sight above. Glued to the ceiling was her mother. Her auburn hair, so much like Ceri's own, fell from its careful binds, streaming down in shiny waves. Her skirts were gone, replaced by a worn pair of Godric's old trousers. One hand was holding a palette, and the other was stretched before her. She was painting.
"Do close your mouth, dear," she said without looking down, squinting at a vine she had outlined with a charcoal stick, a brush loaded with green paint poised fractions of a distance from the ceiling. "It's impolite."
Ceri closed her mouth, knowing too well to disobey her. She had the tendency to glare when angered. Many a student learned very early on that when Headmistress Ravenclaw was glaring, it was better for them to sit down and be quiet - or else. That imminent 'or else' was the only way in which Ceri had ever seen her mother assert herself, and thinking it over, she realized that this was quite enough. She should have known better. Mentally cursing herself, she found a padded chair not covered with books or parchments and settled down to wait.
With a sigh Rowena released her brush. The small object remained floating in the air, while Rowena herself sank back to the ground gracefully.
Ceri had always admired her mother. Her confident grace and quiet presence figured highly in Ceri's life. Even now, clad in a man's clothes, she held herself with dignity surmounting that of all the pampered little princesses that filled the halls of the Castle these days. Each one of those princesses lost their arrogance once faced with Rowena Ravenclaw in one of her moods.
"Well?" Rowena asked after putting down her palette, her hands on her hips. One of her greatest flaws, Ceri perceived, was her impatience for dilly-dallying, but she had to admit that even that had its charm at times. At least that way she got things done twice as fast than if she would have allowed it. Rowena did not hold with people wasting her time. "What is it, child?"
"Mother, I…"
"It's about Aiden, isn't it?"
Ceri was not surprised. Surprise at her mother was something she had lost a long time ago. It always seemed like Rowena knew everything about everything - just as Aunt Helga had suggested. Ceri remembered all those times when Ryan had attempted hexing her behind their mother's back. Rowena had always stopped him, even when it seemed like she was engrossed in some old, dusty tome. It had aggravated both children to no end at times - especially when they had wanted to sneak out at night and frighten the new students.
She took a deep breath. "Yes, Mother, it is."
"Let me guess," Rowena said wearily, bringing a hand up to rub her temple, a motion that had become a trademark of hers throughout the years. "You thought it was a good idea to ask your father for permission to marry the boy, and he almost had your head for it? Not surprising, really."
"How… how did you know?"
"Call it woman intuition," she said dryly. "I've known your father for over twenty years, Ceri, and I had any number of arguments with him over your dear boy, though he never quite realized they were arguments. He does not approve of your choice, as you have discovered at your cost. I suppose I should have informed you of this earlier, but I had too many other things to do."
"What about you, then, Mother? Do you disapprove as well?" Ceri asked in a small voice, somewhat stung by the indifferent words.
Rowena laughed, and Ceri knew that everything will be all right. She never grew tired of hearing her mother laugh. When she had been little she used to try and make her mother laugh as many times as she possibly could. "It is not my business to approve or disapprove!" Rowena said, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Your choice is undisputedly yours, and I trust you with all my heart. As you have asked, however, I will give you my opinion.
"I am extremely fond of Aiden, and as he had been in my own House, I grew to know him better than your father did. He is a good boy, and an honourable one, though I do believe you have swayed him off the honourable path a couple of times since you have met. He is bright and will be able to keep his own with you, and definitely with your father and brother.
"So, in short, yes, I approve of your choice and will be happy to call Aiden my son."
Ceri felt tears dripping down her cheeks.
"Oh, hush, love," Rowena said softly, enfolding Ceri in her arms, making it all better. "Everything will be all right. Now, listen carefully. Go to your room, wash your face, do your studies, rest, and tomorrow everything will be as it should be. I promise you that."
Ceri went to sleep early that night, but her sleep was not restful. Her dreams were hectic and frightening, all ending with her father's blue eyes glaring at her, his lips spelling words of shame.
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Ryan would not speak to her the next morning. He got out of his bed very early in the morning, and though she picked her head up to receive a good-morning kiss, he ignored her and left their room. She was understandably distraught. In many years, Ryan had never failed to show he cared for her. He had always been there for her, but now… she was afraid of getting her father's agreement at the cost of her brother.
As she entered the dining room for breakfast, Godric all but ignored her, his face a thunderstorm. It seemed like he was taking his anger on his food, stabbing it with his knife repeatedly. Stricken, she sent her mother a sideways glance. Rowena's eyes were trained on Godric, and were clouded. She was frowning, and Ceri's heart sank just a little. Maybe putting all her trust in her mother was not such a good idea as it first seemed.
She did not have any appetite that morning, but her mother insisted on her eating all the same. Ceri felt like a little girl once more, being told that she must not get away from the table before finishing all that was on her plate. Rowena had always been adamant on that account - making sure her children ate well, whether they wished it or not. Then she told Ceri to take herself outside and find Ryan, straighten things out with him. There was an undertone to her words, but for the life of her, Ceri could not think what it meant.
Doing as she was told, she wrapped a cloak around herself and left to look for her brother.
It did not take her long to find him, though he attempted to be elusive, covering his tracks. She, however, did not bother at all with tracks. She did not need them. He was exactly where she had expected him to be - in the place she had dubbed, a long time before, when they were both children, his 'brooding place': a small enclosure of rocks to the shore of the lake where he could sit unnoticed, away from his sometimes pestering sister and their somewhat eccentric parents. Now he was standing at the water's edge, staring into the distance, his hands clasped behind his back, still as a rock. A dark figure against a grey shore, cold and alone.
"Ryan?" she called softly.
She saw his shoulders stiffening, but he did not turn.
"Ryan, please turn around?"
He ignored her.
Feeling her temper rise, she gritted "Turn now, or I'll make you turn."
His head straightened and she could see the resoluteness in his stance. He was set on ignoring her, even if it would be the last thing he ever did. She would have to make him turn, because in the name of his stiff-necked pride, inherited from their father, he would not turn by himself, and that, as far as she was concerned, was unacceptable. She picked up several small stones from the ground, smoothed by years of touching water, and took careful aim. She had always been a good shot - better than any of her friends, and definitely better than Ryan.
"Listen to me, my dear, imbecilic brother," she growled, throwing a small stone at him, only very narrowly missing him - narrowly enough to catch his attention, "and listen to me carefully. I love Aiden," -she threw another stone, making him dodge as he half turned to face her- "and there's nothing you," -another stone- "or Father," -and another- "or anyone else for that matter," -and another- "can do to make me change my mind. I have loved him for so long that you would faint to hear the number of years. I am going to marry him with or without your blessing, because, frankly, though I love you and Father dearly, I could not care less of what you think of this marriage. If I have to elope, then I will elope - don't think I will not. Mother, I'm sure, would approve.
"My life is with Aiden, and I don't care at all what you might think of him. If you hurt him - if you even threaten to hurt him, I will hurt you tenfold. Are we clear on that? I love you, Ryan, and I'd rather have you by my side when I marry, but Merlin help me - if you make me angry, you will rue the day our parents conceived you.
"I don't have anything else to say to you. Come talk to me when you are ready to be mature and to accept the fact that Aiden will be my husband and your brother at that." Huffing, and after using all her stones to accent her points, she left.
She did not even have to wait twenty heartbeats before she heard running feet behind her. She did not stop or slow down, but made him trot in order to catch up with her.
"I'm sorry, Ceri," he muttered, not meeting her eyes as she glanced his way. "I have no right opposing your choice."
"Too right you are," she said heartlessly, but seeing the stricken look on his face - and the bruise caused by one of the stones that did not miss their target - she softened her words. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I'm glad you have decided to come to your senses."
"I'm glad as well."
"I had no doubt that you will see it my way, you know," she said, a grin starting to appear on her lips.
"Oh?"
"I always had you wrapped around my littlest finger, after all."
"Why, you-" he mock-growled and then, with a wicked smile on his handsome features, he turned on her and, reaching out, started tickling her mercilessly.
With a squeal, she bolted, trying to avoid his evil fingers.
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"Invite the boy."
Ceri thought that she must have heard wrong. Perhaps she had grass clogging her ears after her mock fight with Ryan, or perhaps she was dreaming - that was quite possible as well. Just last night her father adamantly refused to even hear of the possibility that his daughter would marry a potter's son, and only that morning he had completely ignored her. How could he have changed his mind all of a sudden?
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said," he growled, his eyes flashing, "-invite the boy."
Ceri flinched, thinking her father's anger was directed at her, but as she turned, preparing herself to go and pay a visit to Aiden in the Ravenclaw quarters, she caught sight of Rowena, leaning on the doorway to Godric's study, her arms crossed. Godric's eyes were on her, and they were ablaze.
As she left her parents' rooms, she could clearly hear her mother's voice piercing the loud silence. "You could have done it more graciously."
She could not hear her father's reply, for it was said in a low snarl. Ceri would have given a lot to know what her mother had told him while she was having fun with her brother. Not something that he liked to hear, it seemed. She could not remember ever seeing her parents at odds like that. They argued a lot, that much was true, but never like this.
"Godric Gryffindor!" Rowena's voice rang, pulling Ceri out of her pondering, startling her. "When that boy comes here, you will be pleasant, you will be polite, and I do not want to hear another word from you on the subject. Are we clear?"
Alarmed, Ceri closed the door behind her and went to find Aiden.
She had never heard her mother issuing orders to her father. But now she realized that what Aunt Helga had told her the day before had to be true. The tone her mother had just used had apparently made her father, begrudgingly as it was, defer to her all the same. She felt hope flood her.
Her nervousness returned, however, as she approached the tapestry which covered the entrance to the Ravenclaw quarters and separated her from the man she loved. What would she tell Aiden who was anxiously waiting for her to tell him that she had obtained her father's blessing? He did say, after all that they had to have his blessing for this. As much as she enjoyed threatening Ryan with elopement, she knew that this was not an option as far as Aiden was concerned. He wanted her father's consent. Worse, he wanted her father's approval. Men could be so frustrating.
"Thestral Wing," she murmured to the maiden on the tapestry and as it moved stepped into the Ravenclaw Commons.
Almost as soon as she entered she was engulfed in Aiden's arms. He bent his head to kiss her, but she reluctantly yet resolutely pushed him away. She knew she would see the hurt in his eyes were she to look up, and therefore kept her eyes down.
"I have yet to get his consent, Aiden," she said, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. She felt her lip curling into an involuntary pout and her voice trembling again. She never felt this vulnerable before. She gathered the courage to look up at him, and what she saw almost broke her heart.
"Oh," he said, his bright eyes suddenly downcast. "He doesn't want a Muggle-born as his son, does he?"
"That's not it," she grimaced, remembering the bad days before Uncle Salazar had left. "He never agreed with Uncle Salazar on that matter. He doesn't care you are Muggle-born. He just doesn't want a potter's son as his son. Father has his… peculiar views of things. He claims to think equally of all, but in fact his highborn education often gets the better of him. Grandmother always says that it was her fault, since she was always too busy with matters of the highborn class to take into account what kind of ideas it might put into his head."
Seeing his broken expression, and feeling his hands letting go of hers, she had to say something. Tightening her grip on his hand, she said "However, he is willing to give you a chance. You're to have tea with us this afternoon. Have a light conversation with Father, and make him see what a loveable man you are, all right? I have faith in you. It all depends on the impression you make, so try not being too nervous."
She felt his grip tightening on her fingers again in return and she hid a smile. "I'll meet you outside our quarters at four past noon sharp."
He nodded, though as she left, his eyes had a somewhat haunted quality to them. Having seen the other side of her father the day before, she now did not feel bewilderment at his apparent anxiety. There was cause for worry wherever Godric Gryffindor was concerned she now knew. Yes. The impression Aiden would make would be central to Father's decision. And if he failed, Ceri guessed that not even her mother would be able to make him move again.
When she met Aiden that afternoon outside her parents' quarters he was wearing a nice blue doublet and had brushed his hair carefully. He looked wonderful, but she did not think it would be quite enough for her father. Aiden was very nervous, his eyes darting from one side to another, his hands restless as he strode toward her.
"All right?" he asked almost breathlessly as he closed the distance between them. There was a tremour in his voice, and it took all Ceri could do to stifle a wince. Being nervous was a thing that her father was sure to spot immediately and dislike. She forced herself to smile.
"You look wonderful," she assured him. "Are you ready?"
Wrong question, she surmised, as he turned a slight shade of green at the prospect. He did nod, however, and gulped down, then taking a deep breath. "Let's go."
And so they went in, and the door shut ever so fatefully behind them.
An hour later Ceri could not believe her eyes, nor could she believe her ears. Godric and Aiden were sitting side by side, exchanging jests and tales of their adventures in the wide world - or at least the British Isles. Her father had completely transformed within the course of that one hour.
He was now polite, friendly, laughed at Aiden's recollections of his school days and all in all, seemed to like him.
She supposed it had something to do with her mother sitting next to her father, holding his hand. A wifely gesture if she ever saw one, but she doubted that was what her mother had in mind. For what could be called the first time in her life, Ceri saw both her parents as they really were: the greatest witch and wizard of the time, entirely equal in their power, each stubborn and set in his or her ways. This time, her mother had the upper hand.
She watched Rowena curiously, intent on seeing what made her father this obedient. Her mother was wearing her favourite dark blue gown which complimented her still slim and attractive figure, her hair in a respectable bun as it always was when in company. She was smiling and laughing with the rest of them, but her eyes were hard and that hardness was solely directed at Godric, for every time she spoke to Aiden or to Ceri and Helga, their expression softened. She would not relent and certainly would not take any nonsense from her husband. Not this time.
More than once Ceri saw her father glancing in her mother's direction. Every time he did that, her eyes grew even harder and she squeezed his hand in what appeared to be a very painful way.
"You see how well she plays him?" Aunt Helga whispered in an amused voice. The woman had inserted herself into the meeting without an eyebrow being raised from either Rowena or Godric. That was just the way it worked at Hogwarts. Everyone knew that.
"Plays him? She practically bullied him into it!"
"That is what your father needs, dear. He never responds to subtler ways. You mother says he's thick, but I believe he merely enjoys ignoring her. It's his little way of getting back at her. When Aiden and you would grow to know each other as a couple, you will find your own ways of expressing your utter possession of each other."
"Why did they get married if they always fight?" Ceri marveled, starting to feel miserable.
Aunt Helga chuckled softly. "Oh, Ceri. You have so much to learn - I have told you that before. Godric and Rowena love each other fiercely. They just happen to be the most stubborn people in the world. So they fight and argue. Sometimes Raven wins, sometimes Godric does."
"So if Mother would have been the one to lose-"
"Then I'd have stepped in," Aunt Helga said, her dark eyes serious, her tone firm. "You are almost one of my own in my eyes. I have watched over you whenever that pair was too busy. I still have a say in this, no matter what Godric wishes to believe, and I support your decision just as much as your mother does. He would not have been able to hold his position if both Rowena and I would have opposed him. Not if he did not want to spend the rest of his life as a petrified stump.
"However," the humour returned to her eyes, "I had no doubt that Raven would win this one. Godric loves you too much to really forbid this wedding. He might huff and grumble, but in the end he will give in. Do not doubt that, child."
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It took one afternoon to completely change Godric's view of the matter. Within the space of that one afternoon he had formed an entirely new opinion on Aiden. Suddenly Aiden became a welcomed guest in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quarters. He could be found there almost every evening, joining the family in their quiet time together, visiting for an occasional dinner or playing a game of Wizard Chess with Ryan or Godric. Losing repeatedly to Ryan made them fast friends. Ceri, knowing Aiden's skills in the game, had to stifle a chuckle every time the blond young man cheerfully acknowledged his loss.
Soon enough Aunt Helga and Rowena, along with Grandmother Ceridwen, Aunt Dahlia and a few women from the village, started planning the wedding that would take place during the Spring Festival. Ceri was alarmed by the seriousness in which they had all taken it. Apparently there was much more to a wedding than simply binding yourself to your spouse. There were gowns to make, flower arrangements to be obtained and created, wedding feast to plan and make, invitations to be delivered, music to be sorted and many other details that she had no idea where the older women got them.
As wintertime passed and the Spring Festival drew ever closer, she saw less and less of Aiden. Her father and Ryan had taken him to his home to discuss things with his parents, and two weeks after they had left, Aiden's mother, aunt and sisters found their way to the Castle and joined the planning crew, immediately falling into step with what the others had already planned. Ceri had no idea where Aiden was, but his sisters ensured her that he was still alive and well.
The wedding gown was completed a month before the appointed time and by that point Ceri felt that all she wanted was to run away and hide - possibly elope as she had threatened Ryan. Being scrutinized by a dozen women every day was not her idea of fun. They all had their views and they all had their comments to make. At some point Rowena had a very vocal argument with Aiden's aunt, Maire, which was only settled after a long negotiation, done by Aunt Helga and Donella, Aiden's mother. It was over the colour theme of the hall where the couple would be married. Maire very narrowly avoided being hexed.
And then, all of a sudden, as though no time had passed, the wedding day had arrived.
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Dear Merlin, was she really about to get married in only a few hours? She was only eighteen! What was she thinking? These were the first thoughts that ran through Ceri's head as her mother gently shook her awake at the crack of dawn.
She only had until midday to change her mind, and by the thoughts running around her mind, there was no doubt that she would do just so. Her mind was clogged with thoughts of running away and hiding until the next day, thoughts of going back to bed and put her head under the pillow, pretending this was not happening.
But it was happening. Dear Merlin, it was. She was practically dragged out of bed, served a hurried, light morning meal, knowing that a great feast would follow the Ceremony at noon and then hurried along to be washed, primped and readied for her last day as an unmarried woman.
Oh, Merlin.
She was thrown into a steaming bath, soaped and scrubbed and washed over and over again until she radiated pink. Then she was put into her undergarments and her hair was pulled and brushed, curled and braided until it satisfied whoever it was who was doing it - she did not recognize the touch. Her face was decorated with colour that she had never been allowed to put on and clouds of scent were applied to her unresisting body.
She had no idea who was making her ready, everything going around her in a blur. Before she knew it, she was stuffed into the richly embroidered scarlet silk that was her masterpiece of a wedding gown, and decorated with jewelry she never knew she had.
Everything turned round and round in crowds of smiling, chatting, loud women. She felt her surroundings become hazy and unstable. Her panic grew. Suddenly she did not know who she was or what she was doing there.
"Here, Ceri," someone suddenly addressed her directly for the first time that day since her mother shook her awake and she vaguely recognized it as Aunt Helga, her golden hair in an elaborate knot, her dark green gown accenting her unique eyes, which sparkled as she looked at her almost-niece. Ceri attempted to focus on her, but everything wobbled. "Take a look at yourself. My, but you are beautiful."
Ceri took one look at herself in the image Aunt Helga had conjured for her, and tears started splashing down her cheeks, unchecked.
"What is it? What is it, Ceri? Is anything wrong?" a multitude of women surrounded her immediately, clucking over her head, making her tears fall in an even greater flood. What was going on? What was she to do? The tears came down and refused to be dammed. She wanted out.
Dimly, she could hear Aunt Dahlia say "Someone bring Rowena here immediately. She's the most qualified to take care of this."
Minutes later, she could hear her mother's voice enquiring as to what was going on and why they were not all doing their duties with the wedding almost upon them. Then she appeared in Ceri's view, her brow frowning and her hazel eyes narrowed.
"All of you, if you have nothing to do here then get out or I shall hex you out. Get going! We have a wedding to make! Helga, go oversee the hall," her mother snapped at the surrounding women. Almost as though a spell had been uttered, the space around her cleared, and the sound of feet hurriedly leaving the room was heard. Her mother had that effect on people.
She could hear her mother sighing and felt her kneeling by her, only then realizing she had sunk to the floor in her bout of tears.
"What is the matter, Ceri?" Rowena asked softly, her fingers wiping away the tears, smoothing her hair away.
"I… I… I can't do it!"
"Why not?"
"Because… bec-because m-my gown is-s r-ruined!"
"Ruined? Why is it ruined?"
Ceri gestured violently at the coppery-embroidered scarlet gown, showing her mother how wrinkled and creased it was. To her surprise, instead of clucking at her like the other women had done, her mother made a small, strange sound at the back of her throat. Looking up at her through her tears, she could see that the older woman's face was contorted in an expression of ill-subdued mirth. Seeing Ceri's hurt look, Rowena lost all restraints and started laughing.
"That's it?" she gasped through gales of laughter. "That is it? My dear girl, could you have found a more foolish excuse?"
Ceri was outraged. How dare her mother mock her so? She was desolate! She was in tears! It was her mother's duty to hug her and say that everything would be all right and that she could just go back to bed and forget the whole thing ever happened. She was not supposed to laugh at her misery, practically rolling on the floor beside her.
Then Rowena stopped laughing and quirked an eyebrow at her daughter. Ceri knew that look. It said that she needed to look back at this moment that had passed again and consider everything before opening her mouth and saying something completely idiotic. Numerous times she had tried staring her mother back, and failed each time. After looking away from her mother's eyes, she sighed. "I'm acting like a child and a complete fool, am I not?"
"Very well put, child," Rowena said with a smile, straightening her blue skirts. "Feeling any better?"
"A little," she admitted in a very small voice.
Her mother smiled at her, taking one of her hands in her own. "You look wonderful, my dear," she said softly, touching Ceri's soft hair with a delicate hand. "No need to fret. Now sit down and take deep breaths. If you muss your gown, do not fly into pieces. That's why we have magic. We can fix it with a wave of a wand. Now relax. You're doing the right thing, so stop thinking about it, all right?"
Nodding mutely, Ceri leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her mother was right. She was always right. There was no need to fret, worry or overexert herself. The mothers and sisters and aunts had everything under control. They seemed to enjoy going into pieces when a single flower went out of place, so why should she add to the commotion? Sighing, she relaxed her entire body and allowed the noise surrounding her to become a background.
Almost before she knew it, her mother was leading her to the Great Hall with her aunts and grandmother in tow, stirring her away from anything that could ruin her gown unwittingly. She could barely catch sight of friends and family standing, filling the hall before she was standing on a slightly raised dais, a very dazed-looking Aiden at her side, her father in front of her, splendid in his role as the conductor of the Ceremony, his face both serene and proud. She felt her mother release her grip on her elbow and settling by her side.
She had no time to think, no time to say anything to Aiden, no time to thank her mother. The Ceremony was already underway.
"Earlier this year, Helga, Rowena and I had traveled to London in order to say our final farewell to our friend and fellow Founder, Salazar Slytherin. Salazar was a great friend and a great man. I could not have had a better companion throughout the years than him.
"Were he still amongst us, Rowena and I would have asked him to be the Conductor of Ceremony in our daughter's wedding, for he was the eldest among us four and as good as her uncle.
"Unfortunately, Salazar had passed away, and this occasion is tinted with sadness because of it. Also, because of it I have taken upon myself to conduct the ceremony. I will trust no other to hand my daughter to her future husband. That said, it is time to begin." With those words, something in Godric had changed. He stood straight, even more splendid in his gold-embroidered red robes, the ring of oak leaves around his head bright green against his black hair and the staff of the Conductor steady in his big hand. His face was clean of emotion. He was the very epitome of an official Conductor of the Ceremony.
"Are Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga Ravenclaw Gryffindor and Aiden Connor, the potter's son, present?" he boomed, heard in the farthest corners of the hall.
"My ward, Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga is present and prepared to give her life in Bonding to Aiden Connor, the potter's son and take his in return."
Ceri, even in her excitement, could swear she heard her aunt muttering to herself as she stepped back into the front row "I told them the girl would hate them? I hate them. What a bloody mouthful…"
After Aunt Helga, Aiden's uncle called in a booming voice "My ward, Aiden Connor is present and prepared to take Ceridwen Rosalind Helga Dahlia Ravenclaw Gryffindor's life in Bonding and give his in return."
"Very well, thus the Cycle is completed," Godric said and then took a deep breath, readying himself to a long and, so her mother had warned her, tedious ceremony." In ancient times magic was not given to humans. It was one with the earth, one with the sky, one with the water. The passing of magic unto humans had not been intentional.
"Up to this day we have no idea what had happened to cause this, but what we do know, is that once the magic had taken hold of the mortal bodies, it would not let go again. These two young people in front of us are living proof of that…"
Ceri did not hear the rest, or rather, did not listen. It was a long speech, enfolding within it the entire Wizarding history, Aiden and hers history and a whole lot of other things that meant nothing to her, including the occasional mutter of a spell. Instead, she allowed herself to be lost in Aiden's eyes. He was looking at her adoringly, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind she knew that her expression was not much different. She could not wait for the evening to be over and for a chance to be alone with him.
Her father, however, ignorant of those internal thoughts that were after all very personal, simply went on. She surfaced just in time to hear the conclusion of the Ceremony, and truth be told she only noticed because her mother elbowed her hard in the ribs.
"… Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga is an heir to two noble lines. She is a strong witch, powerful and knowledgeable. She comes to this marriage with her dowry, given to her by her parents, Rowena Catrin Deryn Ravenclaw and Godric Gawain Rylan Gareth Gryffindor, and by her brother, Ryan Gawain Salazar Rhys Ravenclaw Gryffindor, and by her guardians, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Ailill Searlas Slytherin. She comes as one who has completed her basic training in Hogwarts School, House of Ravencalw. What say you, Aiden Connor? Will you take Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga Ravenclaw Gryffindor as an equal partner to you in all aspects of life? Will you be by her side whenever she needs you? Will you treat her as she deserves or otherwise face the wrath all her relatives will invoke upon you and who will stop at nothing to pay you back for the wrongs you had done to her?"
Ceri was quite sure that the last part did not actually appear in the formal text of the Wizard Bonding Ceremony. In fact, the glint in her father's eyes spoke the complete opposite.
Aiden did not look scared. He looked straight into Godric's eyes and nodded. "I will, Lord Gryffindor."
Her father nodded, satisfied, and continued. "Aiden Connor is the son of a Muggle potter. Even though his heritage is not of high stature, he managed to ascend to greatness, and fulfill the promise of his powers. He has made us all proud to be the ones to teach him. He comes to this marriage with a bride price given to him by his parents, Donella and Connor the potter, and by his sisters, Aine and Aisling, and his guardians, Conall the smith and Maire wife of Conall. He comes as one who has completed his basic training in Hogwarts School, House of Ravenclaw. What say you, Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga? Will you take Aiden Connor, the potter's son, as equal partner in all aspect of life? Will you be by his side whenever he needs you?"
"I will, Father," she said with tears in her eyes.
"Then put your hands together on this staff and look into each other's eyes."
She never heard what her father had muttered, what kind of spell he had used, but when she let go of the staff, he said "The Ceremony is complete. Aiden Connor, the potter' son and Ceridwen Rosalind Helga Dahlia Ravenclaw Gryffindor are now man and wife in the eyes of all."
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Godric watched his little girl walking out of Hogwarts and towards the village where her new home had been built. Tears pricked his eyes. He did not want to see her go.
"We hate seeing our children walk away from us, Godric," he felt Rowena's arms snaking around his waist and her chin on his shoulder, her voice reverberating in his bones as she spoke. "But it is inevitable. We both had seen it coming a long time ago, even though we refused opening our eyes and accepting their feelings. Let her go, love, and be happy for them."
"I know I should," he sighed. "But she's only eighteen."
"I know, love. I know."
And so the sun set on the couple, bathing their tear-stained faces in a shimmering golden light. Perhaps a stage of their life, long and happy as it was, had just ended, never to return, but life went on, and they both knew that it was a life worth having.
What can I say? This is almost the end… did you like the last chapter? Please tell me what you think - as always, it is very important to me. Next week is the Epilogue! Hope to see you all there!
Hugs and kisses to all!
-Star of the North