Part Twelve
The entire week ahead of the wedding, Ailene was becoming more and more neurotic. It was hard for her to focus on her work and her students. Marden did his best to calm her down and give her proper words of wisdom, but it wasn't helping. She constantly played the worst case scenario in her mind day after day, of screaming and crying, of being thrown out of the wedding hall by mysteriously magical forces. She also held a bit of a grudge against Marden, he seemed very calm and collected in the given days before the wedding.
It wasn't easy for Marden at all. In fact, he was just as apprehensive, especially for Ailene. Marden felt guilty for dragging Ailene through all of this, but he wanted to do things the proper way. He didn't want to go behind his parents back, even though he had been for these last few months. He wanted to be open and honest with his parents. He was set in his way of choosing Ailene to love and no one else, and he was going to go through with it, no matter what it took.
The pair revisited Diagon Ally, to Madame Malkin's for dress robes. Ailene found a particular pair of robes of a beautiful shade of lavender with embroidered lace flowers around the waist line that dwindled down to the hem. Although the robes were absolutely beautiful and she had no issue with wearing them, she'd much rather wear a beautiful dress than looking a little frumpy.
"Is this something I have to wear?" Ailene asked Marden, who looked on as he watched Madame Malkin measure her and adjust the robes with a quick flick of her wand.
"Well, yes, this is what us Wizards wear." Marden answered her in a hushed voice. "And if you want to make a good first impression on my family, it'd be best to look the part."
"But I'm not a witch, I don't know why I have to pretend to be."
"Shhhh, keep your voice down." Marden said to Ailene. "Not everyone is okay with a Muggle in the Wizarding world." He whispered, Madame Malkin nodding in agreement as she shuffled away, leaving Ailene to look at herself in the mirror. She placed an equally beautiful witch's hat that perfectly matched her robes. Marden came to stand next to her.
"You look beautiful. And it's only for the wedding, any other time you can wear whatever you want...or nothing at all." He smirked, looking at Ailene through the mirror.
Ailene answered by giving his bum a pinch.
The days of the week ticked by until it was now Sunday. It was inching closer and closer to two o'clock, the time of the reception. Ailene paced in her flat, Marden's owl slowly watching her as she made her way from the window, peering out onto the street below before turning back and walking to her sofa. She was starting to sweat in the rather heavy robes, and she kept spraying herself nervously with her perfume as to not start to smell. The heeled boots she had on started to make her feet ache, and as the time went on, she felt her heart rate increase.
She had no appetite whatsoever, only having a few too many cups of tea in the morning, only making her more jittery.
Then, there was a knock at the door. This was it. It was time. She shakily reached out and opened the door, Marden standing there with very elegant dress robes, his normal curls slicked back much smoother than usual.
"Ready?" He asked her, leaning down to peck her lips.
"No, not really. But I guess I'll have to be." Ailene answered honestly.
They walked all the way to the Leaky Cauldron and he led her to a massive fireplace at the one side of the pub. Marden grabbed a small pot from the mantle place and held it out to her. "This is Floo powder. This is how we are going to get there. I trust you enough to do this."
Ailene shifted her confused gaze from the pot of dust to Marden.
"Repeat after me: McKinnon Manor, Dalnessie."
"McKinnon Manor, Dalnessie." She repeated, trying her best to imitate his sudden Celtic.
"Now, watch me." Marden said, tossing the powder from the pot into the fireplace, great green flames roared to life. Ailene felt a brisk cool breeze billow out of the fireplace from the flames.
Marden stepped inside the flames and looked at her.
"MCKINNON MANOR, DALNASSIE!" He yelled, and the next second, he was gone.
Ailene stood alone in the pub, people not paying to much mind to her, which she assumed because this was a normal way of transportation, or that she blended in quite well with her robes.
She took a deep breath, hitched up her robes and stepped into the flames. They were as cool as the air they created, like a fresh morning in March. She stood tall, and with a deep breath, she spoke:
"MCKINNON MANOR, DALNASSIE!" All of the sudden, Ailene felt like she was sucked into her vacuum cleaner at home. Her intestines were being spread like butter, stretching in every which way. She tried to open her eyes, and when she did, she saw that she was in what seemed like a plummeting elevator. She saw living rooms, dining rooms, studies, offices, drawing rooms, all kings of rooms shoot veritically until the 'elevator' suddenly slam to a stop. Her feet hit concrete, her lungs fill dust and soot. She felt a hand grasp onto her arm and pull her out of the great green flames, all the while she coughed and sputtered.
Soft music filled her ears, and she felt fresh air all around her. She slowly opened her eyes, her lungs working themselves out, and saw that she was in a massive room, and it's décor could only be described as something straight out of Windsor Castle. Ailene looked all around at the great magnificence before her eyes fell onto Marden, his eyes full of concern.
"Are you alright?" He asked, dusting her off and revealing the pure Lavender color of her robes once more.
Ailene quickly accounted for all of her limbs and then her head, and miraculously, she was okay.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." She said, and then looked around at all of the strange faces that watched her, some already engaged in conversation about her. Marden adjusted her witch's hat on her head, and gently plumped her blonde curls.
"You look beautiful." Marden said with a smile, and Ailene looked back at him with a smile. "Thank you." She responded, but still looking nervously around. Marden turned and began walking out of the room and into an equally grandiose hall, the ceiling as high as the Sistine Chapel. Ailene peered at all of the portraits on the walls, and they looked back at her with the same amount of curiosity. She glanced and noticed that the portraits all had names that ended in McKinnon. Many wore kilts and other very Scottish garb of red and green tartan.
There was a room they slipped into, it was a much smaller room, and there sat Euphemia in an eloquent, pure white ball gown at a ornate vanity. Other witches stood around, adjusting her dress while the bride fixed up her makeup.
"Oh thank goodness you came in one piece." Euphemia walked over to them, and she took Ailene's hands with her own before she curtsied to her. Ailene followed her lead, curtsying back.
"You clean up nice, Muggle." Mia teased with a smile, quite different from their meeting over tea a week ago.
"Now, let's go over how this is going to go." Mia said, taking both of their hands now.
"Mother and Father will be seating by the fireplace, they are accepting our gifts and gratitudes as well as greeting guests. You will both be in line to greet them, and there you will introduce Ailene to them. The only thing I cannot plan is their reaction, as well as everyone else's." Mia explained before looking between the two of them. "The Potter side of the family might be a bit more accepting, but I can't really say for ours."
Ailene nodded, her stomach doing summersaults as Euphemia went over the plan, suddenly feeling very dizzy.
The door then opened slightly, a very plump, ugly creature that was no taller than a toddler came waddling through the door with a cup of tea.
Ailene couldn't help it, she really couldn't. What came out of Marlene's mouth could only be described as blood-curdling.
Once Ailene calmed down after being introduced to Mitzy the House-elf, the pair was ready for the moment they were waiting for. Ailene found it hard to stand still in the long line, she would get an occasional glance here and there, but the amount of whispers about her seemed to subside, for now.
They were in a massive ballroom, tables filled the hall yet it still seemed like there was still so much space. Euphemia and Fleamont sat at their own sweetheart table in front of high windows that looked out into an enormous garden, the large fountain changing colors in the distance.
"So, this is your home, I'm assuming?" Ailene asked.
"Yes, I grew up here, all of us McKinnon's did." He responded, looking down at her, the palms of their hands exchanging sweat.
"I didn't know you were so rich..." She thought aloud and Marden laughed.
"Yeah, rich." He said as if the word was poisonous. "It's really not as great as it seems. We could never fit enough people in this house to fill it completely. And for what? To look good in the eyes of everyone else?" He asked rhetorically, shaking his head. "I'd never choose to live in a place like this."
Ailene kept quiet, taking a step as the line moved forward, inching closer to what felt like Ailene's inevitable doom. Within a few more steps, Ailene could spot Marden's parents. His father was a plump man, with long, curly white hair and and an even longer beard. He was not in dress robes, in fact he was adorned in complete Scottish attire; a kilt and tartan of the same green and red as his ancestors. His mother was thin and elegant looking, a witch's hat bigger than Ailene's sat on the top of her head. His mother was beautifully aged, her long robes spilled out into the floor in front of her. Marden was the spitting image of his mother.
Three more steps. Ailene could feel her stomach twist and turn into knots, with the not-so-strange feeling that she was going to vomit.
Two more steps. Ailene was sweating profusely.
One more step. She could smell his mother's perfume, it smelled of the same perfume Ailene's great-grandmother would wear at special occasions. Her piercing blue eyes fell on Ailene, and a look of question came to her brow as she noticed that this strange young woman was with her son. Marden was intentionally looking the other way.
They stepped up to the pair. "Mother, father." Marden said with a bow. "It would be my honor to introduce you to Ailene." Marden placed a hand on the small of Ailene's back and gave her an ever-so-slight push forward, Ailene taking that as her cue. Ailene stepped forward and curtsied them, and his parent's bowed their head in return.
"I had no idea that you had met someone, Marden." His mother remarked, scrutinizing Marden closely, before her gaze flickered to Ailene.
"Aye, ye seem to have found yerself quite a beauty." His father said rather graciously in a very thick, Scottish accent, taking her hand and pecking a whiskery kiss to her delicate skin. Ailene noticed that his wife did not have a Scottish accent at all, but an English one.
"Why thank you, Mr. McKinnon. It is an honor to be here on this joyous day, Mrs. McKinnon. I thank you for letting me be apart of it." Ailene responded graciously, cursying to them once more.
"Perhaps you should sit with us at dinner, so we may get to know you a little better?" Mrs. McKinnon offered, and the couple agreed.
Ailene's insides finally relaxed, as they moved on, but only temporarily
"That went surprisingly well." Marden said in a huge sigh of relief. "Maybe this wont be so bad after all." He said, mostly to ease his own anxiety.
Marden and Ailene got themselves a glass of champagne and found a corner to observe. A few members of the crowd found Marden and engaged in conversation with him, asking him all sorts of things about the Ministry of Magic, about the Department and different people that Ailene had never heard of before. Ailene could quickly tell who was a McKinnon and who was a Potter. The Potters were very jolly, good spirited people who almost instantly engaged Ailene along in the conversation with Marden. The McKinnons had the very air of aristocracy surrounding them. They held their heads up high and observed Ailene the same way that Mrs. McKinnon did during their procession. Ailene simply smiled kindly at them, offering them nothing to use against her.
Then, a rather large, young wizard spotted the pair from across the room and made a bee-line for them. "Been looking for you everywhere chap-" The rough wizard wrapped a rough arm around Marden's neck and ruffled him, but he quickly cut off as he looked over at Ailene. He practically towered over Marden, who was well over six feet tall himself, his blond hair clearly not combed, and there was a wild look in his beady, blue eyes.
"Who's 'is?" The wizard then asked Marden in clear, Irish brogue.
"Moody, I'd like you to meet Ailene. Ailene, this is my best mate, Allistor Moody."
Moody quickly removed his arm from Marden, looking a bit shocked at Ailene. He then ran a massive hand through his whispy blond hair, trying to smooth it out before smoothing out his robes. He took Ailene's dainty hand and bowed, kissing her hand with a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Ailene couldn't help but blush slightly as she bowed her head to him. "It's quite an honor to meet you, Allistor."
"Ach!" Moody then let out, standing back up straight. "Call me Moody, barely anyone calls me Allistor anymore."
Then Moody placed a large hand on Marden's shoulder before he turned both of their backs to Ailene.
"You didn't bother to tell me you had a pretty bird on your shoulder. You been holdin' out on me?"
"She's kind of been a secret to everyone..." Marden whispered.
Then Moody peered over his shoulder to Ailene, who could clearly hear their little conversation.
"She got any sisters?" Moody then asked aloud before Marden shook Moody's hand off of his shoulder.
Ailene smirked at all of this attention, she plumped her blonde curls before pursing her lips. "Even if I did, don't think they'd take the likes of you."
Moody then let out a laugh. "I like her." He smirked, fitting his hands into the pockets of his dress robes. "Known Marden now for almost ten years. Met when we were just little tykes at Hogwarts." Moody explained, placing an arm around Marden's shoulders once more. "Weren't in Slytherin, I hope?" Moody then asked Ailene.
"I'm sorry, I don't believe I know what that is..." Ailene shrugged her shoulder's, playing into Moody's game rather well.
"Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff? Now that you mention it, I don't think I've ever seen you before, and trust me love, I have a great memory."
"Your memory is suiting you rather well, for I am not a witch at all, but a Muggle."