Chapter 15 – The Joining of Hearts

Chaos reigned in the Weasley household on the morning of the wedding. Fleur was in Hogsmead with her parents, Jaques and Elodié, and sister Gabrielle, but with all the hasty comings and goings at The Burrow, anyone would have thought that both bride and groom were preparing in the same house. Out of the whole family, Fred and George were the only ones who were managing to ready themselves with minimal fuss. Mr Weasley was, as always, attempting to convince his wife that the entire weight of the wedding arrangements did not rest on her shoulders.

"But Arthur, you don't understand!" she babbled frantically, almost tripping over Crookshanks on her way across the kitchen, "We have only two children who are anywhere near ready! Ron had only just finished in the bathroom the last I saw of him, and it wasn't even twenty minutes ago when Ginny was still tripping around in her nightdress! She's a bridesmaid, for goodness sake!"

Mr Weasley was quite used to this. A delicate touch was needed.

"Calm down, Molly dearest," he said, struggling with his late father's most handsome tie, "As you are no doubt fully aware, our daughter will be reaching the ripe old age of sixteen in less than a week. I have every confidence that she is now perfectly able to dress herself for any occasion in plenty of time."

This was not enough to convince Mrs Weasley, who was determined to fluster herself and all those around her as much as possible.

"But we have less than an hour before we have to leave!" she insisted, "Am I the only one who wants this wedding to happen today?"

Her voice was carrying upstairs, receiving many sighs and groans along the way.

"I wish she'd just take a sleeping draught and ask someone to wake her up when the ceremony starts," muttered Ron, pulling on his dress robes inside out.

Ginny just nodded, only the weakest suggestion of a smile on her face. Ron had been starting to worry about her again. It had just been over the past few days that she had been far too quiet, and at first he thought there was more trouble between her and Harry, but this was the one thing of which she had vehemently assured him otherwise. She had not so much been keeping to her room, but most definitely keeping to herself. Something was wrong. Then again, Harry seemed to be a bit out of sorts as well. Only speaking when spoken to and driving to distraction at every opportunity, this was not the Harry he knew. Perhaps they had some kind of telepathic connection to control each other's mood? Whatever the reason, he'd be getting to the bottom of it as soon as all this wedding hysteria was over and done with.

Meanwhile, it was nearly impossible to concentrate on a single thought within such a hive of activity. Ron had been keeping well out of Hermione's way after she had changed her hair for the fourth time and began asking for his opinion. As far as he could tell, she would look stunning no matter what, but this was not an answer she wanted to hear at the moment. He muttered grumpily under his breath as he straightened his robes and dragged a brush through his hair, which had recently grown to a point where he now needed to tie it back, something Bill had been doing for some years.

Harry was trying to avoid everyone except Hermione. He would have been concerned about this angering Ginny, but she had been distancing herself from him too. He knew that he would probably end up telling Hermione first about Percy's death, and that he would certainly need the moral support when he came to tell the Weasleys themselves. And so, as he put the finishing touches to his own robes, he found himself taking an unusually strong interest in his friend's hair and make-up, simply as a distraction from the nausea that plagued the pits of his stomach.

"Hmm…maybe the darker purple would be better," he suggested, watching Hermione performing tinting charms on the roots of her hair, "It would definitely go well with your dress."

As grateful as she was for Harry's advice, Hermione was slowly coming to the conclusion that either something was deeply troubling him or he had received a heavy blow to the head during the night.

"Those ringlets at the side look great," he continued, "Perhaps a few more stars on the necklace? I love that lace you've put around the – "

"Harry!" she snapped, "For the sake of your masculinity, I would seriously recommend that you stop right there! I don't know what's got into you today, but it can't be good! And why aren't you giving Ginny a hand?"

"Oh, is it suddenly a crime to help out?" he replied, trying to sound as offended as possible.

"You're talking to someone who has been mending your glasses since you were eleven," she smiled sceptically, "so don't trying telling me that you're just being your normal helpful self."

Harry could see that this tactic was getting him nowhere. Conceding defeat, he sat down and raked his fingers through his hair, his thoughts drifting into very unpleasant territory.

"Listen Harry, just tell me what's bothering you," she said comfortingly, "After all we've been through, it can't be anything that you can't at least share with me or Ron."

He looked up at her, having ruffled his almost shoulder length hair back into its usual scruffy state.

"There is something wrong. Something very wrong."

He slowly got up and headed for the door.

"But this isn't the time," he said, without turning around.

As Harry ascended the stairs to fetch his new dress shoes and the cloak that Bill and Fleur had given him, he narrowly avoided a collision with Ginny, who suddenly steadied herself against the wall in the act of rushing downstairs. Neither of them had looked the other in the eye properly for nearly three days, but Harry was now mesmerised at the sight before him. In fact, he was wondering how Fleur would now be able to distinguish herself as the bride.

She was dressed in a long, flowing bridesmaid gown of silvery white Elven silk. Her hair was partially held back with a comb carved from a dragon tooth, and around her neck lay a delicate string of emeralds that brought out the green sparkle in her eyes. She gave a nervous smile as she saw his reaction, and looked awkwardly down at her feet.

"Ginny…" he stammered, battling with an urge to propose marriage to her right then and there, "You look really…nice."

It was almost like when he had first seen the dancing Veela at the Quidditch World Cup three years ago, but this time there was no illusion that made him feel like this. His mind was not playing tricks on him. This was magic of the most natural kind, but Harry was intensely frustrated that he had not given her a more fitting compliment. For just a few moments, he had forgotten why it had been so difficult to face her.

"So do you," replied Ginny, with only a fleeting glance back at him.

She wanted to say more. She wanted to grab hold of him and kiss him. But something just didn't feel right. Something inside her was telling her to stay away. Giving a small, and vaguely ridiculous curtsey, she edged past him and hurried down to find her mother. Harry couldn't have felt angrier with himself if he tried. All he could think was that he had pushed her away. He had been so determined to keep the terrible truth about Percy from her that he had left her estranged.

With just a few minutes to spare, all residents of The Burrow were gathered in the kitchen ready to depart. The wedding was to take place in a large clearing near the edge of Tockington Forest on the outskirts of Bristol. Both Molly Weasley and Elodié Delacour had agreed that it was the perfect setting, although Fleur's whole family had initial misgivings about the festivities being held in England at all. Mrs Weasley had of course been fretting over matters to the very last moment, something that had made Fred and George want to perform more than a few Confundus charms on her.

"Alright Ginny, just hold tightly on to my arm," she said, taking a last nervous glance around to ensure that nothing important had been left behind.

Bill shook his head in exasperation.

"Mum, will you just relax and accept that everything has been taken care of? From the look on your face, anyone would think you were on the run from Azkaban."

Mrs Weasley turned on him sternly.

"There's no harm in making sure that everything's in order for your big day. There's been a lot to think about, you know!"

It was time, decided the groom, to exert a little authority.

"My big day will be absolutely perfect, so long as you can just take the day off and enjoy yourself, for all our sakes!"

His mother looked at the rest of her family, all of whom were now smirking in agreement.

"Oh, very well!" she sighed in resignation, "Are you ready Ginny?"

Mother and daughter then disapparated from the kitchen, closely followed by the others. They reappeared suddenly in the middle of a deserted field about a hundred yards from the edge of the forest. As Harry recovered from the experience that was still relatively new to him, he nudged Ron.

"Why couldn't we just have apparated into the forest? It would've saved us a walk."

Ron smiled as he whispered in reply.

"Just a precaution, so no one goes walking straight into a tree."

As the group approached the woodland, Harry could see the glow of what appeared to be strings of green firelight floating in mid air. It was certainly a comfort to know that the celebrations would be surrounded by muggle-repelling charms. He could only imagine the panic that would ensue if any locals were to stumble across a party of witches and wizards starting what they thought to be a real forest fire.

They walked through the first cluster of trees and found themselves looking upon a truly awe-inspiring sight. Benches of redwood tree trunks had been laid out with rows of very comfortable-looking satin cushions for the guests to sit on. A light, twinkling downpour of snowy stars had been suspended above the clearing in a manner that reminded Harry of the first time he had seen snow in the great hall at Hogwarts. Hermione was amused at the procession of peculiarly dressed French gnomes that marched along the aisle sprinkling silvery rose petals. A very grand chair had been placed beyond the front benches for Tiberius Ogden, the senior Wizengamot official who was to conduct the proceedings, and as they took in their surroundings, Ogden himself strode briskly up to them in his flowing cream coloured robes, smiling from ear to ear.

"Welcome, welcome, my dear friends!" he exclaimed, shaking each one of them warmly by the hand, "Such a pleasure to be here, I can't tell you how delighted I was at the invitation!"

Harry had been looking forward to meeting Ogden, after hearing that he had been a strong ally of Dumbledore's in the Wizengamot. The man's very appearance was somehow a comforting reminder, the wisdom of many years showing in the lines and creases of his face, together with an altogether youthful twinkle in his eyes.

"Harry Potter," the wizard said as he made his way to the end of the line, "So we finally meet. I have heard many wonderful things about you from Albus Dumbledore. Alas, I fear his passing is something from which our world may never fully recover, but seeing you now, I believe it is no time to give up hope."

Harry smiled back at him, then gazed across the clearing at a group of witches and wizards who were dressed in a very different fashion to what he had been used to seeing in England. Far more shocking colour contrasts and bizarrely shaped dresses and robes. After noticing a head of striking, shimmering blond Veela hair, Harry guessed these to be Fleur's relatives. Ginny, who had also noticed them, was keeping her eyes peeled for the appearance of Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle. After seeing Gabrielle's birthday greeting to Harry, she wouldn't be standing for any over-friendliness from her fellow bridesmaid.

Bill walked with Ogden towards the front, followed by Charlie, who Harry supposed was acting as whatever the wizarding equivalent of a best man happened to be. He looked round and saw that Mrs Weasley was once again looking troubled. The crowd on either side were slowly shuffling into their seats, and more guests were now appearing from among the trees. Professor McGonagall arrived, accompanied by Lupin, Tonks, and Professor Flitwick.

As greetings were exchanged, Harry felt like his whole stomach was about to surge up into his throat as he overheard Mr Weasley comforting his wife.

"Don't worry; I'm sure Percy will be here soon. You know that whatever tension there is in the family, he wouldn't miss his own brother's wedding."

"I just wish I knew where he was!" Mrs Weasley wailed quietly, "I wasn't ready when he disappeared from the clock face. It was the same when Bill and Charlie moved out, and next it will be Fred and George…next thing you know, it'll be just the two of us and…"

Harry looked pleadingly at Tonks, wishing that he could have been anyone else at that moment. She gave him a look that he took to mean "Be brave." As he returned his eyes to the Weasleys, having never felt less brave in his life, he heard a soothing melody fill the air. Looking up, he noticed a variety of harps and panpipes beyond the benches on the groom's side, all of them enchanted to play themselves. Bill seemed to be the picture of calm, though glancing around, Harry could have attributed this to the music, as everyone seemed to be lost in it.

The melody then slowed in tempo and changed dramatically, and Harry felt Ron pull him to his feet as everyone else rose from their seats. It then occurred to him that this must signify the arrival of the bride. It was quite different from the muggle wedding music that he had heard, and even that wasn't something he had heard at an actual wedding (his aunt and uncle would have considered it an utterly ludicrous idea to extend a wedding invitation to him).

The first to pass along the aisle were Ginny and Gabrielle, wands drawn, firing showers of red and green stars into the air like silent fireworks. Harry was bewitched. He could feeling his heart pounding as Ginny passed him, and at the same time felt a ballistic rage that there was so much to threaten their happiness. That this perfect creature whom he adored so much might well have to stare death in the face as he would was simply to much for him to handle.

There were gasps of admiration and amazement as Fleur finally made her entrance. She wore a bridal gown with a very long train in startling white, with a sash of silver beads around her waist. Her hair simply flowed down the back of her dress, clipped back behind her ears with lilies. The veil she wore, promised to her by Mrs Weasley, was crowned with a halo of glowing golden fireflies. Ron could feel Hermione's grip tighten around his hand before his jaw had the chance to fall open. Fleur's mother, Elodié was speechless, clapping her hands to her mouth, and blinking back tears of joy.

The moment Fleur drew level with Bill at the front, the music ceased, and the congregation slowly took their seats again. Tiberius Ogden rose from his chair and addressed them.

"Honoured guests, we are here to celebrate the ever-sacred joining of hearts and souls between witch and wizard. Fleur and Bill will now declare their vows of loyalty unto one another."

As Bill dropped to one knee before Fleur, the only sound Harry, Hermione and Ron could hear was Mrs Weasley sniffing back her own tears, but they had all been prepared for this.

"I, William Adrian Weasley, take thee, Fleur Delacour, to be my wife. I solemnly swear to love and honour you, to die any death to serve you, and to let no force of nature or magic break this union."

The sniffing and quiet whimpering increased as Bill kissed Fleur's hand and stood up. Harry was beginning to understand this, for it was indeed a very moving scene. He could even see Hermione fighting it back. Fleur then in turn dropped to her knee.

"I, Fleur Delacour, take zee, William Adrian Weasley, to be my 'usband. I solemnly swear to love and 'onour you, to die any death to serve you, and to let no force of nature or magic break zis union."

As she rose to join Bill, Charlie stepped forward and handed Ogden a length of slightly blackened gold chain.

"Will the bride and groom please join hands?" he said, smiling broadly at the two of them.

As this was done, he wrapped the chain seven times around their wrists, tapping his wand on their joined hands each time.

"Permissum is redimio suum pectus pectoris quod animus" he muttered as he finished.

The chain then appeared to disappear into their skin, leaving a trace of blue light that vanished like a snake rapidly slithering away.

"I, Tiberius Ogden, of the Wizengamot of Great Britain, Order of Merlin second class, pronounce you man and wife."

As Bill delicately lifted the veil Fleur dispensed with all restraint, lunged forward and kissed him in a way that took everyone on the groom's side quite by surprise. An almighty cheer arose, and the music of celebration began. The crowd began to mingle in the middle of the clearing as the benches were transfigured into tables, on to which a great deal of food and wine was conjured. Harry could tell that no matter how important the ceremony was to magical folk, it was the celebrating they did best. He soon found himself face to face with Fleur's mother.

"'Ow wonderful to see you again 'Arry!" she cried, "Fleur 'as been telling us all about you, and Gabrielle 'as been so excited to see you. Gabrielle! Venez ici et dites bonjour à Harry!"

As Gabrielle approached through the crowd, blushing as she smiled at him, Harry felt a tight grip around his arm as Ginny felt the time had come to begin her role as guardian protector. He rested his hand on hers reassuringly.

"Bonjour…" said Gabrielle nervously, "Did you 'ave a nice birthday?"

"Erm, yes thank you," he replied, not quite sure how complex to make his answers, "So, how do you like it here?"

"Oh, I lurve England. Your friend 'Erminny 'as told me about your customs 'ere, but 'er French is not so good," she said, trying desperately to come out of her shell, Harry giggling to himself that Hermione was actually bad at something, "Ginny 'as told me zat you two are in lurve. She eez very…er…'ow you say…?"

After a quick whisper in her mother's ear, she turned back to them.

"Ah yes, she eez very…protective. Zere eez something she eez saying to me zat I am not quite understanding. Tell me, what does 'Hussy' mean?"

With a raised eyebrow at Ginny, and a guilty smile in return, Harry excused them as politely as he could.

The festivities continued well into the evening, and by the time Harry had finished meeting everybody, he thought he was drunk. The sights, the sounds, the aromas in the air, it was all so wonderful. Fred and George had been showcasing their newest fireworks, including some that spelled out the names of the bride and groom in multi-coloured flashes. It was only when he heard a very distraught Molly Weasley complaining that she had still not seen Percy that Harry remembered the grim task in hand. Watching Ginny smiling at him in the light of the lanterns and fireworks, he decided that he would have to get her on her own and tell her before he could tell the rest of the family. Yes, he thought, that would be best. The more he watched her enjoying herself, her eyes dancing and her smile radiating warmth toward him, the sicker he felt about telling her. But how would she feel if he kept putting it off? He cautiously walked over to her

"Come with me" he whispered in her ear.

"Harry, what is it? What's wrong?" she enquired, seeing the look on his face.

"We need to go back to The Burrow. There's something I need to tell you."

"But – "

"Please Ginny! It's really important."

She nodded and followed him. On the way, Harry got hold of Ron.

"Tell your parents that I've gone back to the house with Ginny, just in case they wonder where we've got to."

Ron gave him a quizzical look.

"Why are you heading back already? They're about to cut the cake."

"Save us a couple of pieces," he replied impatiently, "but please Ron, it's urgent."

Ron nodded, and the two of them hurried off into the trees and disapparated.