I apologize for this delayed update guys. I hope you haven't lost interest in the meanwhile and thanks for waiting patiently.
Farida: Thanks for everything!
Moriah: Your suggestions are excellent. I have tried my best to take them into consideration in this chapter. Thanks!
AnonyMouse: I'm really sorry for the late update. Unanticipated circumstances forced so much work onto my shoulders that I could hardly find time to write. Thanks for taking your time to review though and for your patience till now.
Naharissya: The wedding is being hurried because, although Dumbledore died a mere three days ago, life has to continue—especially, because the threat of Voldemort is so great. Moreover, we cannot forget that Harry's magical protection will lifted on his seventeenth birthday, which is rapidly approaching. Much needs to be done before that—so life is really on fast forward now. Thanks for your review, and I love your suggestions. Don't worry about making your reviews long because the more substance in a review, the better and more useful the review is, right? Thanks again!
Rasal: R.A.B is in the sixth book, near the end. Thanks for reading and I'm glad you understand my story.
All the rest of you have my special thanks for reviewing!
Chapter 2: The Wedding
Next morning was busier than any Harry had had so far at the Burrow. Friends of the Weasleys began to arrive early in the morning and were creating a big fuss about the wedding—plundering about the house that had only moments ago been finely decorated. Harry, Hermione and Ron had been appointed as the maintenance squad; they rushed about muttering charms that replaced flowers in their now empty buckets, that made the spilled water disappear, and countless other pieces of adornments to repair themselves. There was so much to do that Harry completely forgot about his unusual experiences from the day before.
It was indeed a great achievement for all of them to finally get to the breakfast table. Mrs. Weasley, who had earlier panicked about possible food shortages, had spread all the food and managed, by persistent and painful requests, to settle down all the guests at the table (The table, which might not have accommodated even six people, had been magically enlarged by Lupin and now comfortably seated at least thirty people). With great difficulty, Harry and Ron had found two empty seats next to each other and took them before anyone else could.
Breakfast went rather quietly. Pumpkin juice was tasty, but not in the morning. The moment Harry had managed to gulp down some of it he felt the urge to throw up. Worse, the atmosphere was very dense with chatter, what with everyone crammed so closely together. Harry felt he needed fresh air as soon as he could finish the juice—which of course would require time. Across him, Ron seemed to have the same impression. With an unpleasant smirk, he swallowed several mouthfuls of flakes and unfortunately, on his fourth serving, another guest tried to reach for a drink across the table and in the process knocked over Ron's plate. Ron gave him an indignant look, got up and left. Still attempting to drink the remainder of his juice, Harry ardently hoped that the place of the wedding would be more commodious.
But as he walked toward the wedding hall several hours later, he began to doubt that the accommodations would be any better. Men from the ministry's Marriage and Divorce Department had come by and set up a "hall" in the middle of the Weasley's Quidditch practice area. In effect however, there stood a shabby and haunted-looking wooden house occupying a very small portion of the field. It appeared so small that it might have been difficult for even a bedroom to fit in it. But the ominous glint that overshadowed the house made it look so unconventional and so eccentric, Harry doubted very much that anyone in their right minds would want even their closet there.
"Wha!" Ron exclaimed once they entered through the doorway. "I was beginning to get depressed by how it looked from outside."
"Ron," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone, "we've seen such arrangements at the Quidditch World cup."
Harry simply gazed in wonder. Hermione might be right, but the arrangements in here were really incredible, especially considering how it looked from outside. The light from five magnificent chandeliers illuminated the hall in the most cordial way possible. Intricately designed chairs and tables, made of beautiful mahogany, were spread ubiquitously near the walls. Decorations, predominantly red and yellow in color, outlined the enormous ceiling and enchanted balloons drifted of their own accord from one place to another, as though in a well rehearsed procession. At one end of the hall, the chairs and tables came to an abrupt end, giving away to a dazzling iridescent carpet floor on which colorful lights from a catwalk above bounced about creating a most effervescent effect. The place teemed with hundreds of people, lost in the fury of intimate and innovative dances urged on by the rhythms played by the Harpies.
"Hello, Harry," Harry literally jumped in surprise. Professor Slughorn's sudden greeting was not the only cause; he realized that he had actually walked from the entrance to the table now in front of him without any conscious thought.
"Hi, professor," Harry returned the greeting, recovering from his surprise. Next to him, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks of why-is-Slughorn-here? That wasn't very hard to explain—Slughorn found places at all parties.
"Take a seat Harry," the Professor invited him, smiling and pointing to an empty seat next to himself. "Ron, Hermione, feel free to join us."
"Thank you professor," Hermione offered, looking slightly disappointed. Ron simply muttered under his breath and took a seat next to Hermione and Harry guessed by their reactions that they clearly had no intention to spend any time with a teacher.
They finished several plates of a variety of foods and conversed thoroughly on several subjects, ranging from the last party Harry had attended with Slughorn to the death of Dumbledore, when suddenly a beautiful and slim figured girl in a dazzling dress came sprinting towards them.
"Why are you guys sitting here?" Ginny blurted before she reached the table. Then, suddenly registering Slughorn's presence, she amended politely, "Hello professor, I thought they would like to join the dancing," and pointed toward Ron, Harry and Hermione.
"Sounds fun," Hermione said brightly looking very relieved.
"Ah…yeah I would love to dance," Ron added in spite of the fact that he was a very bad dancer.
"Well of course, fellows! What's better than a joyous dance after such a nice meal?" Slughorn was already on his feet. "But that'll mean that I have to get a partner," he looked pensive, but added, "I'll join you fellows in a moment," and walked off in a hurry.
"Let's get lost before he finds us again, shall we?" Ron said eagerly.
"So you hate him all of a sudden, do you?" Ginny mocked. Harry had lost his voice since her arrival and refrained from saying anything as a result. Hermione seemed to guess as much.
"No, but Ginny, who wants to spend a wedding with a teacher, when the alternative is to spend time among ourselves?" she said, as they started walking toward the dance area. Harry had a fleeting vision of himself dancing with Ginny, but he crushed the feeling immediately.
"Hermione?" Ron asked uncertainly, as they reached the dancing floor and the lights began to shower them randomly.
"Sure," Hermione said, reaching out and taking hold of Ron's outstretched hand. Ginny and Harry were left standing on the side lines as Ron and Hermione disappeared in the crowd. Harry thought he had glimpsed Hermione attempting to fix Ron's movements several times already.
"Ginny?" Harry wasn't sure what he was doing.
"Yes, Harry," Ginny looked over at him, her voice as firm as ever.
"Come," Harry said, extending his arm. There was a smile on her face, a tear trickled down from the corner of her radiant eyes, then her hand was reaching for his and before he had time to realize any of this, he found himself in the middle of a tumultuous dance with her effulgent loveliness beside him, rocked on by the resounding music.
It seemed as though only a few minutes had elapsed before Harry and Ginny were on the sidelines again, utterly exhausted and panting hard.
"But Harry," Ginny said suddenly, a sarcastic tone ringing in her voice. "We can't be together anymore, remember?"
"No, you're right. We can't be together—at least not until Voldemort's gone," Harry raked his brain for an excuse. "But we're not together, Ginny. We were just dancing together, that's all," he said unable to produce anything convincing.
"Ah! There you are!" Professor Slughorn was panting harder than either of them. But the lady next to him was by far a more intriguing sight.
"This here is Les—Mrs. Lemon, fellows," Slughorn continued excitedly.
"Hi," Ginny said cordially. Harry gave her a welcoming smile. Mrs. Lemon seemed too shy to offer anything more than a smile herself, and clung sheepishly on to Slughorn.
"I thought we would get a bit of fresh air folks—been in here for a while now. Care to join us?" Slughorn looked Harry in the eye, expectantly. Ginny gave him a look of hopelessness.
"We'll join you in a bit, professor," Ginny said indecisively.
"Yeah…um…once we catch our breath," Harry confirmed, feigning several large gulps of air. Slughorn looked disappointed but thought better of attempting to persuade them any further.
"Of course," he said with a wave of his hand. "Take your time."
He walked off with Mrs. Lemon still clinging nervously to his hand. Harry gave a sigh of relief; he wanted to spend time with his immediate friends—not a teacher. Why was Slughorn so stuck to him today anyway? Unable to answer, he turned his attention back to the dance.
"Harry," Ginny said softly from beside him. There was urgency in her voice.
"Yeah?" Harry turned to face her.
"Wasn't Professor Slughorn wearing red shoes when we saw him earlier?" Ginny asked.
"Er…yeah, I think so," Harry said trying to remember. He looked about for Slughorn and his partner to confirm his conjecture, but could not find them within his range of vision. They must have gone outside already.
"Well, I just saw him wearing black ones. I mean, he didn't change his clothes or anything else," Ginny observed.
"I doubt he'd have bought an extra pair of shoes for this occasion," Harry said.
"That's suspicious," said Ginny. "Think we should raise the alarm?"
"No, not yet. I mean, Slughorn changing into different shoes is not really impossible is it? No need to make everyone panic just cause we have a whim here."
"We can't just let this go, Harry," Ginny urged on.
"We're not going to, Ginny—under one condition though. You have to let me investigate this alone," Harry said.
"Alone?" Ginny said sardonically. "I'll never let you."
"Well, then we can just ignore the matter," said Harry firmly.
"Really Harry?" Ginny mocked. "You seem like you just don't me to come along."
"I thought we settled this before," Harry said, recalling their conversation from Dumbledore's funeral. A pang of pain shot through him as he was forced to remember the professor's death. "I remember telling you that I don't want to risk anyone anymore," he choked.
"How are you risking my life when we're not even sure this issue is a threat," Ginny pressed on. "If you don't want to come with me Harry, I'll look into this myself."
Ginny was about to walk off but Harry discovered that his hand had suddenly clasped her shoulder, without any conscious effort.
"We'll go together," Harry said, pulling out his invisibility cloak from beneath his robes. He knew that further attempting to persuade her against her will would be futile. The best he could do now was protect her.
"We'll put that on once we reach the entrance to the hall," Ginny said, pointing to the cloak. "People are bound to notice if we just disappear right here."
"But if that wasn't Slughorn, he might've placed booby traps even before we reach the entrance," Harry replied.
"We'll go to the sidelines and put it on, shall we?" Ginny suggested.
"Yeah, good idea," Harry approved.
Having donned the cloak, Harry and Ginny proceeded toward the entrance. The hundreds of people, running about everywhere carelessly, conversing animatedly and knocking over chairs and tables in the meanwhile, slowed their progress. It took nearly ten minutes to reach their destination, by which time, Harry was sure the real Slughorn would have sent someone into the hall urging Harry to come out. But again there was the possibility that he wouldn't have.
The area near the exit was deserted; most of the people were now dancing. Several chairs lay upturned along a table near the door—next to which also were several empty bottles of wizarding drinks scattered across the floor.
Now as Harry stared intently at the door, attempting to discern any signs of a booby trap, he realized for the first time that it was translucent from the inside. In fact, he thought he saw several birds fly by a moment ago.
"Are those shadows from outside, or is this an enchanted screen?" Ginny whispered from beside him, voicing his own concerns.
"I have a feeling that it's enchanted to show the outside," Harry replied.
"So what are we waiting for, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"If Slughorn and Lemon were really waiting to trap us, it wouldn't be wise to go barging through the door," said Harry.
"We're invisible, Harry," Ginny said, as though there was nothing more obvious.
"Exactly, since when did a door open by its own accord?" Harry responded.
"But no one is here to open the door for us, Harry. We'll never get through it," Ginny protested.
"We can create a diversion," Harry tried to sound convincing.
"Or we can just open the door very quietly and step out. No need to complicate everything, really," said Ginny.
"Yeah, that is what you are going to do," Harry replied. "You take the invisibility cloak and open the door. Keep your wand at the ready."
"And you expect to do you usual heroic charge do you?" Ginny sounded incredulous and derisive at the same time.
"But you're coming with me too! If anything, you'll be able to shoot surprise spells from under the cloak," Harry explained. Ginny continued to look at him scornfully. "You know this is a waste of time Ginny," he shoved the cloak aside, slightly irritated at her response. "If you do your part, I will be thankful. But if not, I'll move on by myself."
There was a shuffling noise and before Harry could make any sense of it, the door flung open before him. Recovering from the surprise quickly, Harry whipped out his wand and cautiously peered outside, knowing that Ginny too was doing the same next to him.
Harry carefully observed every part of the Quidditch practice field. He gazed up and down the trees and searched for every slight disturbance in the leaves and every little noise that he could hear. But his results were not satisfying—Slughorn and Mrs. Lemon were not to be seen. Suddenly, the door began to close beside him.
"Ginny?" Harry whispered.
"Stupefy!" came the reply from under the cloak. A jet of red light shot from her invisible wand and headed for a tree straight ahead. The force of the spell made the tree shake so violently that Harry might have concluded, under different circumstances, that it was a whomping willow. He couldn't make out why Ginny had shot the spell though.
Then suddenly, Harry perceived the threat. Behind the tree, a tall bush, green in color, stood wavering incongruously in its place. There was no breeze nearby. More obvious however, was the wand that was mounted on one of the thorn's petals, looking like a moribund twig; it was placed in much the same way Uncle Vernon sometimes pointed his rifle. There was no hand holding it however, or wait! There was the faint outline of a hand—its transparent nature indicated that its owner must have been placed under a disillusionment charm.
Absorbing all this in less than a second, Harry kicked the door aside and ran outside. He had brought Ginny into this! How could he, after all that he had said to her about how he no longer wanted to risk lives?
His move seemed to have boosted the confidence of his adversaries, as they suddenly jumped from behind the thorn. Harry couldn't believe his eyes.
"The famous Potter has fallen for the trick has he?" sneered Bellatrix Lestrange, waving her wand simultaneously to close the door to the hall. The beautiful ornamentations vanished behind it, once again hidden by the ominous walls of a small and dilapidated house.
"No Granger to think for you now, is there Potter?" added Draco Malfoy, smiling with satisfaction. Harry would have loved to punch out all his teeth.
"SECTUM SEMPRA!" he cried, wielding his wand like a sword in front of him.
"Not so fast Potter," Lestrange said in a belittling tone that Harry loathed in every respect. She lazily flicked her wand and blocked the curse as though it had no significant power.
"All you have to do is be the nice and heroic Chosen One that you are," Malfoy smirked, contempt rippling throughout his features and unmistakably resonating from his eyes. "And your tragedy will be read in all wizarding publications from this day and on."
Malfoy's jubilation at the prospect of making fun of Harry with impunity was short-lived however. A sudden flash of silver light hurled from nowhere right into his chest. His hands and legs folded together, his expression went berserk, and with an awkward motion, he collapsed in a heap onto the grassy ground.
Bellatrix was on the move immediately. There was a hint of fear in her eyes—perhaps caused by the knowledge that some invisible presence was firing spells. Harry's plan was working after all.
"That's enough Potter!" she shouted, whipping her wand around and muttering something. A purple light emitted from the tip and soared toward Harry.
"Protego!" yelled Harry. The curse went flying back to Lestrange, who dexterously maneuvered out of its way.
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, going on the offensive but knowing full well that any curse he said aloud would be easily deflected by the death eater. He concentrated all his attention to perform a SECTUM-SECUMPRA curse nonverbally.
"Impedimenta!" shouted Ginny from behind him, still secure behind the invisibility cloak. Bellatrix just waved her wand lazily once more. Harry was still trying to focus all his attention on the nonverbal curse.
But within these few crucial seconds, Lestrange managed to perform an anti-hex on Malfoy, who immediately got to his feet and brandished his wand. All thoughts of nonverbal spells left Harry's mind at this new threat—and opportunity.
"Levicorpus!" Harry shouted, putting all the will he could muster behind the curse. Malfoy didn't get a chance to utter the curse that he had been on the verge of performing but rather discovered very abruptly that he was in fact hanging up-side-down, wand-less. He groped around for a hold but there was none to be found.
Unfortunately, Harry lost time taking in this rather amusing scene, in which Lestrange, once again proving her speed, performed a counter jinx and placed Malfoy back onto his feet. In another abrupt swoosh, he was beside Bellatrix—who had yanked him there magically.
"Stupefy!" Ginny said in attempt to distract the older death eater. It didn't work however, as Lestrange simply moved aside and let the bolt of red light disappear behind several trees. Then abruptly, Harry heard a shuffle behind him. He turned around just in time to see Ginny trip over a drinking bottle that had been on the ground. The distraction cost him—and Ginny. The force and abruptness with which he was jerked off his feet knocked the breath out of him. Ginny, meanwhile, had tangled up in the invisibility cloak and exposed her head, upon which, Harry witnessed to his horror, Malfoy shot a curse he had never heard before.
He saw the splash of blood on Ginny's face, the sudden whiteness that overcame her eyes, and the intake of a deep breath. But he saw no more. He found himself being compressed into a small tube with Lestrange's hand tightly bound to his own elbow.
Side along apparition.
Note: I cannot promise quick updates anymore because the school year is approaching—and especially junior year in high school can get pretty intense. I believe my next update can be expected October 1, 2006.