The Lupin-Weasley wedding was going to be the stuff of dreams. Set in the ginormous dining hall of 12 Grimmauld Place--a room that was at least as large as the Great Hall of Hogwarts and twice as grand due to the great pride the Black family had taken in decorating their family home--it was to cater to at least a hundred families and be the largest event of the year without doubt. Ginny had remarked to Hermione more than once that it was a good thing they had found the hidden sections of the hall several years back or it would never have been large enough to cater everyone.
Victoire and Teddy had secretly both admitted to the kids that they had hoped for a much... much smaller wedding, preferably with only immediate family and close friends present, but Fleur insisted that it was a matter of prestige among her French peers. Deciding that there was no way they would let Fleur outshine them in any prospect of this wedding, Ginny decided to invite all the important figures acquainted with their side of the family as well, including several famous Quidditch players--she had once herself been a player for the Holyhead Harpies before retiring to take care of her children at home and continued on as a reporter for Quidditch with the Daily Prophet--journalists, influential members at the Ministry of Magic and--
"The Malfoys?" Rose gasped as she read the guest list. "Why did you invite the Malfoys?"
"As much as I hate to say it, Ted is related to them through Tonks."
Rose opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to believe what she was hearing. Such a happy occasion marred by the Malfoys' presence?! "But even Aunt Tonks used to hate them--we all do!"
"Honey, we do not hate the Malfoys," Hermione corrected her sharply as she and Victoire looked through a book of cake-ideas for the reception party. "In fact, Mrs. Malfoy and I work together on a daily basis at the Ministry."
"Oh yes, you are so close, in fact, that you're even on first-name basis with her, aren't you?"
Hermione looked up at her with a sigh, removing her spectacles from the bridge of her nose. "I do not understand why you hate the Malfoys so much! It's all your dad's fault, isn't it? I swear I--well, it doesn't matter! The Malfoys have been invited whether you like it or not. Now stop pouting and help your aunt with the seating arrangement. Now, Tory, my dear, what do you think of this one--three layers topped with fairy dust and a magical fountain?"
Rose wanted to keep arguing, but she knew when a battle was pointless to fight and she would rather not waste time on pointless battles. So she took a deep breath to calm the boiling hatred in her gut and looked down at the seating chart. With a quill, she assigned the Malfoys to the table farthest at the back of the hall for the ceremony. She also took great pleasure in the fact that Aunt Fleur was currently arguing with her mother--"Three layers are nearly not enough! My Victoire needs at least a seven-layered cake--zere are going to be so many people zere after all! And a fountain? What a silly notion--I remember Bill and I 'ad phoenixes fly off of our wedding cake--zat was so beautiful! It is all right, 'emione, we don't expect you to 'ave good taste in cakes. Yours was tres droll, after all."
She did feel intensely bad for Victoire though who was stuck between the two women and looked ready to burst out crying with the daggers they were glaring at each other. She looked at Rose with an increasing sense of desperation, practically crying out for a rescue. Unable to stand that look she was receiving, she suddenly blurted out, "Ted was looking for you! I almost forgot to say."
"Oh, 'e can wait. Zis is important."
"No, no," Rose stumbled around for a better excuse. Wasn't a man wishing to see his fiancé reason enough to let the poor girl go? "He--err--wants to talk to her about something. Something very, very important. I think it had something to do with the ring?"
"Oh! 'E must've finally found the perfect one--go, darling, go! Oh, and make sure it is grand enough--not some silly family 'eirloom or anything."
"What is wrong with family heirlooms, Fleur?" Ginny asked her. "If I remember correctly, you wore my Great-Aunt Muriel's tiara for your wedding."
"Yes, and it was a ghastly thing, I tell you!" Fleur touched her perfectly soft silver hair and shuddered daintily. Both Hermione and Ginny looked just about ready to kill her.
"Here, I'll take you to him," Rose jumped out of her chair and led Victoire away. As soon as they were out of the doors, Victoire pulled her into a tight hug. "You... are a life-savior!" She said dropping a kiss on her cheek. "Be my maid of honor? Oh, and don't tell anyone yet--Niqi will have a fit if she realizes I picked you over my own sister as my maid of honor."
Rose laughed. "Thought you'd never ask. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone--your secret's safe with me. Now, let's go and find Ted so Mum doesn't see us wandering around and realize we were lying."
"Someone call my name?"
"Ted! You leave me alone with my mother one more time and the engagement is off, I swear--!" Victoire wailed out as Ted turned the corner. He looked pleasantly surprised as she headed for his neck with outstretched hands. He caught them in his and laughed, pulling her into his embrace. "They're awful, I swear! This wedding is going to be a disastrous battle between Mum and Aunt Hermione and Ginny over who gets to bring more guests, who finds the best cake, and who bloody gets to say 'I do'."
Ted frowned. "I hope the last one will get to be you at least."
"I don't know," Victoire shrugged sarcastically. "Don't be surprised if you see them fighting their way down the aisle and find me tied up and stuffed into the attic upstairs."
"Oh, that won't be good, Ted," Rose winced. "There are dead bats and droppings and a ghoul that will drive Tory crazy within the hour!"
"We could elope?"
"And be swiftly disowned from both your families, yes," Rose responded.
"How about we confront them and tell them that all we want a simple wedding with only family and friends?"
"Ha, like that will help, the invitations have been sent out already."
Victoire and Ted both turned to her with rather annoyed looks. "Why did I ask you to be my maid of honor again?" Victoire asked her.
Rose grinned. "I'm just trying to keep things in perspective. Isn't that what the maid of honor supposed to do?"
"Come here--" Ted grabbed her around the neck as though he was going to choke her and tousled her hair.
"Ted! Watch out--Fleur will kill you if you mess up the maid of honor's hair merely weeks before the wedding!"
"I'm the groom--"
"Like she'd care!" Rose replied snidely. Ted joined in with Victoire's laughter and let Rose go.
"Come on, Tory, let's get you out of here for a while--let the maid of honor deal with the battle of the Matron Witches."
(0)
When the day finally arrived two weeks later nestled into the tender snow-falls of mid-January, it was to see both the bride and the groom safe and unharmed--as well as out of the ghoul-haunted attic--and all three Matron Witches calm and composed. Well... as calm and composed as they could be as they battled their own hectic minds instead of each other. The children, as well as George, Angelina, Harry, Ron, and Bill, had decided that it was far too perilous to attempt civil interaction with any of them. "Bloody Percy," Ron muttered after getting a sound lecture for an hour from his wife about the importance of a properly folded table-napkin. "Smart bugger left long before the wives got crazy--always knew exactly when to escape."
They had all decided to resort to running as many errands out of the house as possible or playing Quidditch in the back-yard. When the day came, though, none of them were spared from various chores and duties preparing the house for the guests.
The first of the guests had started arriving the previous night--Andromeda Tonks, Ted's maternal grandmother, Fleur's parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Gabriella Delacour-Marks and her oldest son, Guy. The next morning, Percy and Audrey came back again--met with more grumbling from Ron--and a slew of more family members. As per Angelina's suggestion, Rose, Dominique, and Lily had shut themselves in with Victoire to avoid getting caught in the cross-fire between the Matron Witches. Very talented with the wand, Niqi styled Victoire's hair for her, pulling the thick waterfall of silver-blonde into an elegant collection of curls on top of her head with soft whisps framing the sides of her face.
"Tory, you look absolutely gorgeous," Rose exclaimed as she helped place the final pins into place in her hair. "Oh, and Mum wanted you to wear these in your hair--something borrowed." Ginny Weasley had given her the small diamond-studded hair pins that she herself had worn at her wedding.
"Rose, she's probably going to fall flat on her face walking down the aisle--are you sure you want those pins sticking into her head when that happens?"
"Niqi!" Rose and Lily both turned to the girl with sharp remarks. Tory looked like she was going to puke any moment. "Your sister is not going to fall anytime this evening and even if she does, Ted will be there to catch her."
Tory laughed softly but Rose could easily tell how much more her stomach had knotted over the past minute compared to before.
Meanwhile, mayhem was breaking out downstairs.
"Butterflies--not fireflies, butterflies! The room is going to be too brightly lit for fireflies to be floating around!" Hermione looked just about ready to slaughter the next helper from the DeLilah's Wedding Inc. who would have the misfortune to pass by her. Either that, or breaking the large jar full of fireflies that had just arrived at the doorstep.
"Hermione, relax--we can dim the lighting," Ginny suggested.
"But it will throw off all the color-coordination!" Molly Weasley gasped. Her thick white hair was pulled back tightly into a don't-mess-with-me bun and she looked like she wanted to join Hermione in cold-blood murder.
"I agree!" Fleur cried out. "Ze pale peach in sunligt is beautiful--put it in darkness and it turns the color of vomit!"
Rose winced as she came down the stairs. She had come down to help her mother and aunts with anything that needed to be done, but it seemed as though now was not the best time to interrupt. Especially adding her grandmother's presence into the Terrible Trinity had just about driven everyone over the edge by bed-time last night. She turned on her heel and walked back upstairs, wondering where the hell to go now. She did not want to be downstairs with her mother, but Victoire had asked for a moment to herself. The poor girl was so nervous that she had decided to take a nap--with a protective charm over her hair and face so as not to mess up the make-up--to calm her nerves. Rose doubted she was actually able to sleep, but silence and peace was something she undoubtedly needed at the moment. They were things that everyone needed.
She paused on the first landing and heard the boys laughing loudly down the corridoor. At least they were enjoying themselves. She just hoped James and Albus were not poking as much fun at Ted as Niqi had been one more flight up with Tory. She walked up to the third floor, heard Mr. and Mrs. Delacour arguing heavily in French and kept walking.
She rarely came to the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place--it was just too far up and she had never thought to visit here as only Harry and Ginny roomed here in Harry's godfather's old room to her left. The corridor was just as well-lit as all the other floors, but much quieter as it was so far from the explosion of voices and noises downstairs. She sighed, feeling relieved at the opportunity to escape it, and walked down the corridor. It was lined with portrait after portrait of very old-looking wizards and witches, most of who were sleeping. She recognized one or two here and there--Phineas Black who had once owned this house, a couple of friends of her parents' who had died during the Second Wizarding War, and--
"Ah, Ms. Weasley."
Rose stopped in awe as Professor Dumbledore spoke to her out of his portrait, laying down a piece of parchment he had been reading. He replaced his half-moon glasses on his nose and smiled down at her with a twinkle in his eyes. She had only seen him a handful of times before--on Chocolate Frog Cards, in a portrait in Headmistress Lovegood's room, and in several books she had studied over her years at Hogwarts. This was the first time she was able to hear his voice. She rather liked it--like an old grandfather's.
"Professor Dumbledore."
"Oh? I'm glad you remember me. I haven't seen you here in over twelve years."
She had seen his portrait before? She had no memory of it. He almost seemed to read her mind and laughed. "Yes, your father brought you to meet me when you were only five. I'm sure you do not remember--it was quite some time ago."
She smiled. "I-I don't often come up to this floor," she admitted.
"Oh, no need for excuses now. I understand that youngsters these days have much more to do than visit old dead men in portraits--as they have in all days, actually."
"Well, I'm quite jealous of your life, truth be told. Wish I could just relax, read a book, and go to sleep instead of the havoc downstairs."
"Havoc? And what exactly is going on downstairs? I'm afraid I have found great solitude in this sturdy frame here and don't leave it as often as I doubtless should."
"Oh," she laughed. "My cousin Victoire Weasley is getting married to Ted Lupin. The wedding is today at five."
"That's correct. Harry told me about that only a few days ago, but what can I do? I'm an old man with thin mental powers."
"I'm glad I could remind you then."
He simply smiled at her. She rocked back and forth on her feet, her gaze traveling to the other frames whose residents seemed undisturbed by her presence. She should ask him. By everything that her parents had told her, if there was one person who could give her an answer, it would be Professor Dumbledore. Her father spoke of him as though he was God and her mother did no less. So... she should ask him. But she felt so odd pouring her doubts out to a portrait--especially a portrait of someone whom she knew so little.
"Is something wrong, Ms. Weasley?"
Great. Now people could read her from within portraits as well. "W-Well, not really," she replied. "I just... I had a question, I guess."
"And you believe I have the answer."
"Do you?"
"I will be able to answer that question when I hear what you have to say."
She licked her lips, still feeling incredibly stupid. People in portraits could walk and talk, but she didn't actually know if they held the same characteristics as the person did when they were living. There was a possibility that this portrait-Dumbledore didn't even know what had happened after his death. How would he be able to answer her questions?
It was really quite unnerving that he was remaining silent for so long. Did the man have no end to his patience?
"Well," she sighed, "I-I've just been noticing that--I know this sounds odd--but that magic has been disappearing." And from there, she spilled out the entire story. By the end of it, she could not remember whether she had even stopped to take a breath. When she looked up, it was to see Dumbledore staring off into the space over her shoulder, looking rather pensive. She breathed a sigh of relief--the second person she had told her problem to who had not laughed in her face. Perhaps the notion was not as unbelievable as she had thought.
"Is it time already--?"
"I'm sorry, Professor?" What was it time for? And why was he so surprised that it was 'time already'?
He snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to her, his gaze softening again. "An ancient man, off his rocker, simply muttering to himself, Ms. Weasley. Please do not mind me. Now, what you describe does not sound unbelievable at all, but I'm afraid I cannot tell you much about the subject as I know very little myself. Instead, I will suggest a book to you--you read often, don't you, Ms. Weasley? I can see it in those marvelous blue eyes of yours--just as smart as your mother, aren't you? So I will tell you to find a book called Tales of The Aruichi. I believe you shall find some answers in there at least. The rest are for you to decipher in your life."
She frowned, confused by what he could have meant, but before she could respond, she heard her mother's magnified voice ring throughout the corridors, calling her name. She jumped a foot into the air as the portraits awoke with similar starts before her.
"What the bloody hell--oh, Rose!"
She grinned at the portrait place two to the right of Dumbledore's. "Hello, Uncle Fred."
"Is that your mother?" He asked referring to the voice. "You tell her to go stuff it and let the poor dead men sleep in peace at least until the ceremony."
She laughed. "I'll be sure to say those words to her verbatim."
He winked.
"Rose, haven't seen you in forever, my girl."
"Hello, Sirius. Attending the wedding tonight?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Now I suggest you hurry downstairs before your mother skins you alive."
"Yes, sir," she grinned. She looked back to Dumbledore once again, smiled, and was about to turn away when he called her name again.
"Ms. Weasley."
"Yes, sir?"
"You have grown to be quite a remarkable young lady. Do not be afraid to search for your place in this world because you will surely find it."
She simply nodded, not knowing how else to respond, and hurried down the stairs again.