Author's Notes: I don't know much about weddings…I'm only a student. So, unlike many fics, I cut the pre-wedding part when the couples get cold feet and all. If I tried, I would have disappointed.
Ok, this is one of the more fluffy chapters in the story. Ugh, I have no experience in relationships at all. I thought it was the best way to stir the romance bit and increase the whole love triangle thing a notch, so here goes.
Oh yeah, and with regards to the timeline, I know it's a bit messed up, with the students getting their Hogwarts letters so early. Once again, I had little idea about summer holiday length, so, well, sorry it's so scrunched. Just pretend it flows smoothly please.
Disclaimer: The characters here do not belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of other authors, namely J.K. Rowling.
One pretty woman means fun at the dance. Two pretty women mean trouble in the house. Three pretty women mean run for the hills.
-Abel Cauthon, Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan
CHAPTER FIVE: THE WEDDING
The days leading up to the wedding were lost in a flurry of activity; training, Quidditch, chores and homework occupied Harry's day.
Soon enough, it was the wedding day, and Harry got up late in the morning at eleven o'clock, partly due to the previous night's activities.
Harry mulishly went to the dining room, not bothering to wake the loudly snoring Ron. When he got down, he was not surprised to see the Weasley parents sitting in the living room along with Hermione, Ginny and Bill.
None of them had noticed his entry into the living room so Harry silently walked into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice, reminiscing last night's dinner party.
Flashback
"Frederick and George Weasley! Get here at once!" Mrs Weasley screamed at the twins who were running wildly about.
Fleur was wailing loudly despite her fiancé's best efforts to calm her down. The part Veela's hair had changed from a beautiful, mystical silver into a disgusting greenish yellow which strangely reminded one of phlegm. Pimples had broken out over her face and her hands had become a deep shade of blue.
The twins were sniggering uncontrollably, and the other members of the family were amused as well, with the exception of the Weasley matriarch and her eldest son.
"For Merlin's sake! Your are ruining your brother's wedding eve!" Molly Weasley shrilled even as the twins tried to escape from her tirade.
However, being a mother, she knew a particular charm which summoned her two mischievous sons back to her. Grabbing them by the ear, she screamed angrily into their eyes, though she showed no remorse that her soon-to-be daughter-in-law's disfigurement, only that her firstborn's wedding eve was spoiled.
"Aww…come on Mum," George whined, "It's Bill's last day as a free man."
"Yeah, from tomorrow onwards, he'll be joining the ranks…"
"of bound,"
"trapped,"
"pitiful,
"married men." Fred finished
"YES, AND I HOPE THAT YOUR WILL ONE DAY FOLLOW HIM! THIS IS NO EXCUSE TO SPOIL THIS WONDERFUL NIGHT FOR THE BRIDE AND GROOM! YOUR HAD BETTER CHANGE FLEUR BACK IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL-"
Fred interrupted her, "Jeez, Mum, it was only a harmless prank."
"Yeah, we wouldn't dare to harm the lovely Veela,"
"Who's becoming our sister-in-law,"
"In less than twenty-four hours."
By now that same part-Veela was glaring furiously at them, but was being withheld by Bill whose eyes did not display the same kind of anger, only annoyance. As Molly Weasley berated the mischief-makers, the rest of the family continued with the meal, chuckling as quietly as possible whenever they saw Fleur's dishevelled state or were reminded of Mrs Weasley's infamous temper.
"I vill not stand for zis, Bill! Your brothers ar zo…incorrigible! Look at vat they have done to my clothes! Zees is…horrible!" She shrilled, causing the youngest Weasley to burst out in a fit of laughter.
"Vy don't see vat is zo funnee, Ginee." Fleur spat out, her French accent breaking throughout her speech.
"Then look at a mirror!" The red-headed girl retorted, making almost everyone else at the table choke on their food. To call the situation hilarious would be too great an understatement. It was a circus of hubbub and laughter.
Fleur, quite naturally, was outraged by her bridesmaid's statement, and stormed into the Burrow, still in her morphed form. With a heavy sigh, Bill followed her into the house.
"Come on, dear, you know how Fred and George can be. Don't let their harmless prank spoil the day." He said as he saw his beloved sniffing on the couch and proceeded to sit next to her.
"Zat vas the final straw, Bill! Zey have marred zis great night! I cannot and vill not put up vif your family's mish-mash any longer!" She yelled, clearly incensed. "After zis wedding, we go to France. Over zere people are civil, and know how to treat a couple viff respect." She finished haughtily.
Bill, not wanting to upset his wife-to-be by arguing with her about his family, asked her, "For how long, love? I wouldn't mind it as our honeymoon; I heard that your native country is quite a romantic place."
Fleur, obviously pleased by his statement, replied, "Ove course France is ze most romantic vlace is the vorld." Turning to Bill and giving him a pointed look, she added, "But for more zan our honeyvoon. Ve vill stay there for a year, at least, until your familee accepts ve as a woman who deserves vespect."
Bill was alarmed by this, to say the least, but decided to tag along. This woman was trying his patience, but at least he could still floo to the Burrow once in a while…
End of Flashback
With those thoughts he went back into the living room, where he greeted those there and was in turn wished a good morning. Harry didn't know what they were discussing before that, and they were now silent, so he decided to open some discussion.
"So, Bill, I haven't gotten to ask you yet. How many people are we expecting for the wedding?"
The eldest Weasley son looked rather troubled as he replied, "Fleur was very insistent about inviting a lot of people. I believe just about everyone she has spoken more than a word to is coming, including Beauxbatons friends and relatives she has hardly seen before. I'm expecting a grand reunion of epic proportions." Shaking his head, he carried on, "I managed to worm my way out of getting too many of my friends. Now that You-Know-Who's about, it isn't safe for so many people to gather like that."
"But Fleur refused to listen to sense, and insisted that people uninvited would feel offended. As if they'd care whether they attended her wedding when some of You-Know-Who's Death Munchers pop up and torture them." Ginny added with disdain.
Bill, who was obviously rather troubled, spoke up, "Effectively, yes. Fleur's a French noble, so it's expected of her to have a large wedding. In fact, she even told me once that her relatives looked down on her for marrying me, due to our wealth." Everyone in the room grimaced; the Weasley's money was an extremely touchy subject, as Harry had found every time he offered to give them his money.
"So we can expect something in the range of…a hundred, perhaps?" Harry inquired.
It was Mrs Weasley who replied, giving an additional look which looked like a wince.
"Actually, Harry, more like few hundred. Dumbledore has offered to set up wards and defences around the ballroom and garden, and aurors will be stationed around the perimeter. Minor adjustments have been made to accommodate the number of people, thanks to Dumbledore."
Harry nodded his head in affirmation, his features still displaying his shock. It was going to be an…interesting wedding, that was for sure.
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Catcalls and joyful tears accompanied the moment when Bill kissed Fleur. Even Molly Weasley was dispensing tears of motherly pride, with her husband's arm around her.
"Bill was right," Harry thought, "there are easily three hundred people here."
Dinner was soon served and, before long, everyone was happily stuffing a fusion of French and English cuisine into their mouths, with the occasional exotic dish. Harry shared a table with the bridegroom's family, and was merrily having light talk with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
Harry was dressed in the black robes he had picked out in Diagon Alley, with red trimmings and splashes of gold dancing nearer the bottom. Inside he wore a formal white shirt accompanied by a pair of black pants. Ron, who was seated beside him, also wore a black dress robe, but his had fewer decorations around it. Hermione was in a simple light blue dress which complimented her brown hair and eyes nicely, while Ginny was in a strapless golden dress, exemplifying the molten lava which was her hair.
Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder.
"Hi Harry." Said a very familiar voice from behind him. Harry, already having a strong suspicion as to who the person behind him was, spun his head around and proved his suspicions true.
Standing behind his chair was a fair-skinned girl who was slighter shorter than average, with eyes like midnight. Her coal-coloured hair was tied into a neat ponytail, and a dark blue dress was wrapped around her thin form. She had little in terms of jewellery apart from a silver necklace which held a pendent of a phoenix.
"Cho?"
"The one and only." She answered happily. "Hey, do you want to talk?" she asked, pointing at the garden with her thumb.
"Sure." Harry replied, getting off from his seat and failing to notice the murderous glares Ginny was shooting at the older girl nor Hermione's pensive look.
"Did Fleur invite you here?" Harry asked as they were getting through the crowded hall.
"Yes, she did. We had a nice chat at the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball while Cedric and Roger were getting drinks. Since then, I've spoken to her several times at the Ravenclaw table, and we've generally kept in correspondence." She replied.
"So, Cho…err…about last year…" Harry began once they were out of earshot, nervously ruffling his unkempt hair.
"No, Harry, I think we've settled it all in our letters." The Ravenclaw girl interjected, looking at him sternly. "I need to do two things. Firstly, I must ask you a question. Can we still be friends? As in, more than just acquaintances."
Harry donned a puzzled mask, clearly weighing what she had said. He had pondered the subject before, and had come to the conclusion that it would be best if she was just another friend like Neville or Luna. Now, however, seeing her being so open and understanding, he felt like changing his mind…
"Cho, I think you're a great person, but, well, some things can't be healed so fast. You're a great friend, but I don't think the friendship I share with you equals that of Ron, Hermione and Ginny." He explained patiently, trying not to stare into the dark orbs which were her eyes. "Still, I consider you as good a friend as, say, Luna, Dean or Seamus. There I some things I cannot talk to you about, and things I cannot trust you to do, but…"
"It's ok, Harry, I understand." She said with a forced smile on her face. "As for what I must tell you, well, you ought to know that no matter what happens, you'll have people on your side. My family doesn't quite want to concern themselves with You-Know-Who, but I'm on your side all the way."
"Thanks, it means a lot to me that…you know…people want to help me…" He said, blushing under her penetrating gaze.
She released a slight chuckle. "It was nice talking to you, Harry. Oh, it looks like they're dancing now, may I have one with you?"
Harry nearly blanched. First of all, he couldn't, for the life of him, dance. He did not possess his parents' natural grace on the dance floor, and any experience involving swaying, waltzing, or in any way moving with music with a partner, was destined to be embarrassing. Secondly, it was Cho. "Mixed feelings" was probably the only way he could describe what he felt about Cho. And Ginny.
Bloody women! He inwardly swore. And bloody flaming cursed wretched apocalyptic troublesome hormones!
Was he becoming a girl-obsessed adolescent? Ugh, bad enough he had to kill the darkest and second most powerful wizard alive, he had to deal with feelings of lust and love. Was nothing in the life of Harry Potter ever simple?
I swear, if anyone ever writes a biography about me, he or she had bloody better include that one of his greatest hurdles in battling Voldemort was puberty.
"Harry, are you ok? You're becoming red in the face." Cho said concernedly.
A pair of green eyes immediately looked towards Cho's face, and after a heavy breath, Harry said, "Oh, it's nothing…but, I can't really dance, you know."
Cho smiled. "Don't worry that's fine. If you step on my feet too often, though, I'll make sure you pay." She told him, before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the dance floor before beginning a strange waltz.
Now that Harry thought about it, if there was something which compared to nightmares of facing Voldemort, it was dancing. He was completely lost as his arm was around Cho's waist while the other was holding her hand. The steps were foreign, and he spent more time looking at his feet, which still betrayed him by stepping awkwardly on other people from time to time. Ok, he didn't make a mockery of himself, but it was, in the purest sense of the word, downright embarrassing.
Nonetheless, he admitted to himself that the raven-haired girl was amazingly pretty. Strange how he took a while to come to such a conclusion, while most blokes would just gawk the moment they saw an attractive women. It had been the same thing when he saw Ginny earlier…
Flashback
Harry was reclining on the couch in the Weasleys' living room, opposite from the slightly longer sofa that Ron was on. They were waiting for Ginny and Hermione to come down, and Fred, George and Charlie had all gone to the nearby wedding hall already. They had been relaxing there for the past half an hour before they finally heard footsteps on the staircase.
Hermione was the first of the two down. Ron gave her a rather interested stare before rising up to meet her and holding his arm up for her. Both girls were amused by the gentlemanly gesture, but Hermione placed her hand on his arm all the same. She wore an azure blue dress with gradients of white, while her bushy hair was straightened and set in a brown flow.
Then came Ginny. Her hair was in a bun from which her auburn hair cascaded down to her shoulders in springy curls. Her golden dress fit her curvaceous form nicely, and as she proceeded down the stairs, a blonde French boy came from behind the couch to repeat the same gesture Ron had done.
That boy was Fleur's cousin, and was accompanying Ginny who was one of the bridesmaids. She looked at him and returned his dazzling grin with a warm smile, but her eyes flashed to Harry, who returned it with a weak smile.
"That French twit is damn lucky that Fleur paired him up with Ginny." Harry mused as he followed behind the two couples.
He had heard of love stories, where the man's knees would become weak and he would lose his tongue upon seeing his gorgeous lover. But this was different. Harry's feelings were somewhere in limbo regarding Ginny. Only as he saw her proceeding down the aisle in front of Fleur did he realise that she was stunningly beautiful, but even that hardly caused him to feel…love.
While Ron was busy stealing glances at Hermione, hoping that she failed to notice them, Harry was deep in thought. Thoughts regarding his feelings of affection and protectiveness towards a certain Ginerva Molly Weasley. And Cho…
End Flashback
If Harry was in a less public place, he would have groaned like a starving buffalo.
This damn better be added to my biography. "Harry Potter's thoughts regarding Ginerva Weasley and Cho Chang somehow fed off each other, and he could not fail thinking about the other if ever he thought about one of them." Light, what's wrong with me?
But his thoughts were cut short by a curt voice.
"Do you mind if I cut in?"
Cho returned the newcomer's cold tone with an obviously forced smile. "Of course not." She replied through gritted teeth, her expression obviously at odds with her answer.
And, before he knew it, there before him was a very attractive red-headed lady.
"Hi Ginny." He said cheerfully, hoping that he would be able to make light talk with her which would distract him from his perturbing thoughts.
It was not to be.
"What did you and Cho do outside?" She inquired, almost a hiss.
Harry sighed. Was Ginny jealous? No, she had gotten over him many years ago, and was probably angry because…of some strange female reason which eluded any man.
"We talked a bit, about what happened last year and all." Harry answered nonchalantly, pretending to focus on the dance.
Ginny was having none of it.
"And…" She probed objectively.
Harry sighed again. "We didn't kiss or anything, if that's what you're asking. She and I are just about over. She's a friend, but not like Ron, Hermione or you."
Feeling a desperate urge to change subject, he looked into her eyes and said the first thought which came into his mind.
"You look very beautiful tonight, not that you don't usually."
Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious. Me. Did. I. Just. Say. That? That hardly diverted from the topic but instead lead to an even rockier pathway to hell and eternal damnation with Ginny, Cho and my own feelings. He reflected, while keeping a glassy front. She probably thinks I'm some disgusting pervert…Ugh…I truly am clueless with girls.
Ginny returned his gaze with warmth and even a slight blush. "Thanks." She answered shyly, continuing with the slow dance.
Was she over him? Logical answer would be "yes." But Harry had found that many things in life didn't make sense, and any old bloke with a glimmer of perception and inferential capability would come to the conclusion that Ginny had feelings for him.
Ugh…I can't wait for school to start. And I seriously need to ask an adult about this. Hmm…probably Lupin. Reflected Harry, just as he finished the dance with Ginny.
He then excused himself, claiming that he required a drink, and allowed Charlie to dance with his sister. Nearby, he saw Cho dancing with some Frenchman, her back towards where Harry was. He wisely avoided her view and went outside, alone.
Outside, where there was release from the horrible stuffiness of people who just didn't understand anything.
He walked pass the pond and the willow beside it, and went to the nearby mound instead. He needed somewhere breezy and panoramic, where he could gaze at the world around him.
He sat himself on a large rock, climbing up and letting his feet dangle inches from the ground. How was he to kill Voldemort? What was the "power" in the Prophecy? Why did he suddenly have feelings for Cho and Ginny?
For the third time that day, Harry gave a heavy sigh. He sought refuge in the deep sky above him, with stars scattered across its indigo plain and the half-moon a luminous beacon floating seemingly nearby. To top it off, it was a breezy night, a rare occurrence in the summer despite the warmth.
As the night wind blew through his messy and slightly overgrown pitch hair, gracing his dress robes with the dried leaves that tagged along.
He tried to dissect his feelings for Cho and for Ginny. Stories often told how wonderful a couple were and the happiness they found when together, but missed out the doubt which was felt before.
He loved Ginny's fiery spirit. She was a true Gryffindor, noble and fearless, yet she could understand him better than anyone else. They could talk about anything and everything they wanted, and awkward silences occurred rarely. She was realistic, yet wonderfully optimistic. She could knock sense into him when he needed it.
But she was sometimes so impatient and impulsive, jumping to conclusions. And she possessed the hereditary Weasley temper and stubbornness, much like her mother. Furthermore, they hardly knew each other; numerous secrets kept an unmentioned gap between Ginny and him.
Cho was a near opposite of Ginny. She could be calm, patient and cautious, but lacked Ginny's backbone and selfless bravery. She was incredibly kind and thoughtful, but was helpless on her own. Her positive impact on her fellow Ravenclaws was apparent during Umbridge' reign of terror. Then again, her friend, Marietta, was the one who ratted the group, Dumbledore's Army. And, of course, there were her frequent waterworks which exploded far too many times for a regular emotionally scarred girl.
But he hardly knew either of them! True, he had been hanging around with Ginny for a while, and he did get to know Cho a bit, so it probably wasn't a fleeting infatuation, but it was just too great a leap.
Harry shook his head roughly. He had already begun comparing them. What's worse, he realised, albeit belatedly, that they both had boyfriends – Ginny had Dean and Cho was with Michael Corner.
This was going to be messy…
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A few hours later, most of the guests had said their farewells while some, about a hundred, having a pleasant chat over a glass of wine or having too much of the drink to care that it was approaching midnight.
French generally considered weddings big affairs, and as the Delacours were practically aristocrats in Parisian society, the celebrations were likely to last most of the night, though food and drink were hardly a problem with the amount of money Fleur's family had insisted on putting into the event.
Of course, all the Weasleys were still around, as well as Bill and Fleur's close friends. The two groups talked from time to time, and it was really a lovely wedding for all involved.
Except for one particular Boy-Who-Lived who was still outside.
He had shifted from his position on the molehill and was now seated under a small tree, its pink flowers remaining from spring. It was far more comfortable here; the grass was softer, and the tree provided a strange yet protective feeling around the troubled teen. It was slightly further away from the wedding room, but not to the point where no one would hear him if he yelled.
There was a glimmer of surprise that no one had looked for him yet, but it was overwhelmed by immense gratitude to whatever divine being had allowed him this time of peace and serenity. His stability regarding everything had increased threefold; Sirius, Voldemort, love, friendship, Occlumency…
Finally, feeling contented with the peace he had obtained with the conflicting regions of his mind, Harry got up, tested his unsteady legs, and took a stroll back to the ballroom, enjoying the night air.
He tried to enter the room discreetly, and was partially successful, though he noticed two pairs of chestnut eyes focus on him. He sighed. It was going to be a very interesting summer.
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A/N: Ok, I admit, I hate doing such fluffy chapters, but it's integral to the story. Ah well, I don't blame you if you didn't like this chapter. Well, so long as you leave a review.