Chapter 6: Wedding Warning

Harry yawned, scratching his head and looking around Ron's room, making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. He even checked under the bed, but found nothing. Satisfied that he'd packed everything he locked his trunk and spelled it to float after him. He left the room, walking down the steps to the main room. There were people everywhere, Charlie waved to him from the opposite side of the room. He was sitting with Hermione and Nadia on the sofa, their packed belongings with them.

Harry walked over, depositing his trunk among their things, and flopped down on the chair across from them. "Alright, Harry?" Charlie asked with a grin, slapping Harry on the shoulder hard enough to jolt him. Charlie obviously didn't know his own strength.

"Yea." Harry replied. "It's just--bothering me, you know? Not even the Burrow is safe anymore." he looked down at his hands. "If Jack hadn't shown up--"

"Ah, yes, the infamous Jack, I still haven't met her." He looked around the room as though he expected her to pop out of one of the walls.

"Haven't seen her?" Hermione echoed him. "I wonder where she's gone to." she chewed on her lower lip.

"Maybe she's on Order business." Ron piped up, walking over to join their little group.

"Dunno." Harry shook his head. "I think that we would've heard something. It's not like she's exactly covert or anything."

"Fair enough." Ron nodded.

"Besides," Hermione pointed out in her superior tone, the kind that she used whenever she was "stating the obvious" in her opinion. "It's not as though she's anonymous. She couldn't exactly be going undercover, now could she? You saw the way the Death Eaters reacted to her."

Harry shrugged, looking at Ron who shrugged back. "Ah, well, I just hoped to meet the girl who killed Shoupe."

"Shoupe?" Harry asked. "Whose that, then?"

"He was a dark wizard, real powerful-like. Used to be the right-hand of You-Know-Who. Almost as bad as. Story goes that Jack met up with him in Scotland and they had some sort of an 'epic battle,' he nearly killed her, he did. Anyway, a couple of hours and about 5,000 pounds collateral later she took his head off with a sword."

"A sword?" Hermione repeated.

"Yea, sword of Gryffindor or something." Charlie told them.

"You mean the one that I pulled out of the sorting hat?" Harry sat forward. "How would she've gotten it."

"Probably same way you did, Harry." Hermione pointed out. "You saw how Fawkes reacted to her. He probably got her the sorting hat too."

"So then why put it back afterwards?" Ron asked thoughtfully. "Powerful thing, that sword, took out a Basilisk like butter, why would Jack put it back in the hat."

"Probably for someone else to be able to use it." Hermione reasoned. "If she hadn't then Fawkes couldn't've brought it to you when you needed it."

"Guess." Harry nodded slowly.

"Oy, what you all moping on about?" George called, trotting over to them.

"Looks like a symposium over here. Look, you've even got the 'Thinking Man.'" He clapped Harry on the shoulder, who had been propped up by his arm on his knee, which he promptly dropped embarrassedly.

"We're just talking about Jack." Hermione explained.

"Oooh, Jack…" George said in a sappy voice.

"She's soooo purdy." Fred said in the same voice. "I wonder what she'd be like, then."

"She's a fighter, that one." George pointed out.

"Oh, will you two stop it." Hermione said imperiously. "That is quite inappropriate. What would Ms. Avvor say if she knew you were talking about her like that?"

"Thanks?" George suggested. His brother sniggered and they both tromped back to whatever they were doing.

"Alright, then?" Mrs. Weasley hustled up. "We all ready? Let's get going."

"How're we going to get there?" Ron asked. "It's not as though the lot of us could fly on brooms. It's the middle of the day and there's a whole load of people. We'd be seen."

"Alaster has been kind enough to provide a portkey. It'll take us to just outside of the city, after that, I'm afraid, we'll need to walk."

"All of us?" Ron asked, shocked. "The Muggles are bound to notice."

"Not all of us are going right now." Mrs. Weasley explained. "It'll be you, Harry, Hermione, your father, Moody, Remus and I." she explained. "The others will come in increments of thirty minutes."

"Still, that's a lot of people." Ron grouced.

"We'll make do. It'll only be a mile walk anyway."

"A mile? And we have to carry our trunks?" Ron exclaimed.

"Yes, we'll carry our trunks. We couldn't get cars from the Ministry since they still don't approve of the Order, but we have to make do." he smoothed her dress. "Alright, then, lets get going."

III

Twenty minutes later the lot of them were lugging their trunks through the streets of London. They got some weird looks, although Mr. Weasley had managed to nab them a few trollies. Harry had pointed out that it would look even stranger, them dragging trollys from the railway, but he'd said that it was better then carrying them.

"Here we are." Mr. Weasley said, looking up at the dingy row of townhouses. "Now then, shall we?" they started towards the house that materialized between two others. Unlocking the door they all hurried inside, assaulted by the smell of dust and mold. Apparently their year away hadn't done the house wonders.

"Home sweet home." Ron whispered, looking over at Harry. "Thank god we've only got a week here before school." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Here's the room asignments…" Mrs. Weasley started.

"Room assignments?" Ron repeated.

"We haven't got enough rooms for all of the Order, and we want to keep them all here, so we're going to be tripling up. Harry, you're with Ron and Shaklebolt." Harry and Ron exchanged a look. It could've been worse, but still. "Hermione, you'll be sharing a room with Jack and Ginny." Hermione looked at her two friends desperately. They shrugged. (Ron didn't understand how she could be upset, sharing a room with Jack) "Remus, you'll be with Alaster and Charlie." she informed them. "Luna will be bunking with Tonks and Melony, and the rest will be worked out upon arrival.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to share a room with her." Hermione grumbled to her friends. "Can you imagine?"

"Yea." Ron smiled dreamily, Hermione elbowed him. "What, it's better then having to share with Shacklebolt. He'll probably be up all night sharpening his wand or something like that." he rolled his eyes.

"But still!" Hermione exclaimed. "I heard Remus say she liked to drink too much." she shook her head.

"Oh, will you look at this place! It needs a good dusting." Mrs. Weasley fretted. "We leave for a year and it's just as bad as when we found it." She sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, very well, we'll have to clean. Go put your things in your rooms and lets get started."

"Mum, we only just got here!" Ron complained.

"Best not argue with her, boy." Moody said with a smile, patting Ron's shoulder. "Now go put your things away."

"You too, Alaster." Mrs. Weasley said, her strange ability to look down on a man a foot taller then her in motion.

Moody sighed. "No rest for the wicked." And began to tromp on the stairs.

Harry and Ron went to their room, the same one that they'd occupied last year. Harry couldn't help but look down the hall at where Sirius' room had been, remembering him in here with Buckbeak. "C'mon, Harry." Ron said, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders and steering him away. "Lets get unpacked before mum develops an aneurism." he glanced down at the door Harry had, shaking his head sadly.

Ten minutes later they were all down receiving their cleaning assignments. Ron, Harry and Hermione were assigned the living room and given dust cloths. When Ron had asked why they couldn't magic the dust away Mrs. Weasley had explained that nothing was as good as a good rag and some elbow grease.

They began to polish the mantle and sweep away the dust on the couch. "Can you imagine this?" Ron piped up. "You-Know-Who is out there planning who-knows-what and we're in here dusting." he complained.

"Oh suck it up, Ron." Hermione said, sneezing from a billow of dust as she tried to clean the rug. "Id could be worse." she said, her nose clogged.

"Yea, how?" Ron asked.

"Kreacher could still be alive." She pointed out.

They agreed on this mutually and for about five minutes they worked in cheerful silence.

"So this is where the git was raised. Explains a few things." Jack's voice came. She was standing in the doorway, a backpack on her back, looking around, Remus standing beside her. "Like the smell." she commented.

"Jack, just lay off Sirius, alright?" Lupin glanced over at Harry. "The boy's just lost his godfather a year ago. He's not ready to hear about his adolescence." he said in a voice only Jack could hear.

Jack sighed, looking over at Remus. "For you, fine." she sighed. "Well lets get this fucked up Gilligan's Island minus one habitable, shall we?"

"Gilligan's Island?" Remus repeated, reaching for the reference.

"Well we've got Gilligan," she indicated Ron, "Skipper too," she nodded towards Moody who had stepped out of the kitchen, "the millionaire would've been Albus, and his wife," she stepped aside, letting McGonagall step in. "The movie star," she indicated Harry "(by fame of course, not looks)" she added at Remus' confused face, "The Proessor," she pointed at Remus "And Mary-Anne." she indicated herself. "Here on Gilligan's Island." she sang the last bit, throwing her bag on the uncleaned sofa, bringing up a bit of dust. "Bit dirty, isn't it?"

"We're cleaning." Hermione said dryly. "You want to help?"

"Not especially." she replied evenly. "But when duty calls." She picked up a dust rag dramatically "one must answer."

III

The next day dawned cold and dark. They were woken up at five a.m. by the pounding on the door of Mrs. Weasley. "Is it time already?" Ron complained, rolling over on the floor (he and Harry had agreed to take turns using the second bed in the room, deciding it was a bit poncy to share it and not willing to risk asking Shacklebolt alternate his).

"Yup." Harry stood up, walking over to the bathroom and getting some water.

"Wake me up when it's over." Ron flopped back down, wincing at the hardness of the wooden floor. "Ow." he complained.

"Your brother is getting married. I would think that you would be looking forward to this." Shacklebolt commented, already half-dressed in his dress robes.

"Not a big ceremony person." Ron rubbed his injured shoulder. "Besides, he'll be just as married at 2 p.m. as he will be this morning."

"Up, up!" Mrs. Weasley's voice shrilled, she was obviously on edge. "I won't have us be late." and with that she walked away.

"Bloody hell, you'd think it was important or something." Ron grumbled.

III

Harry yawned sleepily, the sun had barely risen over the horizon and the air was still wet with dew. He'd had another dream last night, a bad one, and hadn't been able to get back to sleep afterwards. When 5 a.m. had rolled around and Mrs. Weasley had come knocking at their door he'd already been laying in the dark for three hours.

He wondered if he'd ever be able to get a full night's sleep again.

And now they were all gathered in a clearing in the middle of the woods behind the Burrow dressed in their finest robes. Ron was tugging at his at the moment nervously. "Do I look alright?" he asked.

"You look fine, Ronald. You looked fine five minutes ago and you're going to look fine when you ask us again in five minutes." Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. It looked like she hadn't slept much the night before either.

Harry saw Ron eyeing Hermione and knew that it wasn't just out of annoyance. Hermione had once again grown prettier over the summer. Her hair had turned an attractive shade of dirty blond, and she'd obviously found some sort of treatment for it so that it now hung down her back neatly. It was still a bit wild, only now it looked almost intended to be. Her face had cleared up and she'd grown some more curves, neatly displayed beneath a fitted robe set which she'd explained her parents had paid to have custom made. It seemed her father had opened a private practice over the summer and they were far more financially stable.

"So what's going to happen?" Harry asked.

"It's all so very romantic." Luna glided up behind them. "Don't you think?" she looked around. "I went to my cousin Oma's wedding last year, it was a bit more fancy then this, but I think this is nicer. More intimate."

"Yea, whatever." Ron mumbled. "Look, Harry, all you need to remember is to think about the people you love, alright?" he said. "It isn't hard. If it were people wouldn't be getting married so often."

"Honestly, Ronald, you are so dull." Hermione sniffed, looking over at where Charley stood chatting with the woman he'd brought from Romania. It was rather obvious that she liked the man, Harry could understand why. Charley was nice, funny, and intelligent, he just hoped that Hermione wouldn't get her heart broken. He was, after all, twenty-five, he would hardly start dating a seventeen year old.

"What?" Ron asked angrily, tugging at the lapels of his robes. "I hate these things. They're so itchy." he complained.

"Suck it up, little bro." George grinned, appearing behind him.

"Oy, Harry, how's it hanging?" Fred grinned identically at Harry.

"Alright, I s'pose." Harry replied uncertainly.

"We just got here." George told them. "It's soooooo romantic, isn't it?" he said in a sappy voice, not unlike Luna's.

"Yea, love is in the air. I think I'm going to be sick." Fred stuck his finger down his throat and gagged. "Speaking of which, want any more vomit pills?" he held out his hand towards the three. "Great for getting out of class."

"No thank you." Hermione crossed her arms.

"Oy, is that you Herms'?" George asked.

"Naw, couldn't be, it's a woman." Fred replied, peering at Hermione.

"Ha ha." Hermione said dryly, although she blushed a slight shade of pink. "You think you're so funny."

"Oh…" Ron's awed voice cut through the crowd, his eyes on the entrance of the field which was marked by a small overhang of white wicker laced in pink flowers.

The group all turned to watch Remus enter with a very imposing, very breathtaking Jack. She had elected not to wear robes, even though it'd been explicitly stated in the invitation (Harry got the distinct impression she hadn't done it just because it was required). Instead she'd worn a white Greek-style dress with no sleeves. It wrapped around her bust line and tapered at the waist only to continue down her body, hugging her thighs and ended at her ankles. There was a slit up the back halfway up her calves, and a gold trim around the hem and top. Around her arms were matching armlets, gold, and also greek-style. Her hair was pulled up on the crown of her head, curletts spilling over her forehead. "Bloody hell." Ron whispered, his eyes wide.

"Ronald!" Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"What? She looks like a bloody Amazon!" he hissed. "Absolutely gorgeous that one."

"Fred and I got a poll. Fred reckons that she's Remus' girl, I reckon that she isn't." George told them. "Want in?"

"I don't think that's all that they're betting on." Ron whispered to Harry with a devious smile, watching his older brothers eye Jack like a piece of meat. "Hell, if I thought I had a chance."

"Which you do not." Hermione reminded him before huffing off in search of Ginny.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked. Harry gave him a dry look. "What?"

"Well isn't it obvious?" Fred slung an arm around Ron.

"What's obvious?" Ron asked.

"The girl's got the eye on you." George winked heartily.

"What? No she hasn't--" Ron started, but Charley sidled up and interrupted him.

"Harry!" he clasped Harry's hand in a bone-crushing shake. "How are you?"

"Uh, fine." Harry rubbed his hand. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

A cloud passed over Charley's cheerful face, but he wiped it away immediately. "Looking forward to your last year at hoggy-warty Hogwarts?"

"Teach us something please!" Fred and George sang together (to different tunes).

"I guess so." Harry replied.

"I'm looking forward to getting out of there!" Ron piped in. "Charley, Nadia, she's Romanian, right?"

"Yea." Charley agreed.

"She's not--Gyp-o--is she?" Ron asked.

"Ron!" Charley punched Ron's shoulder, not at all gently.

"Ow, what? Is she?" Ron asked.

"What's Gyp-o?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's a derogatory term for a Gypsy, which she does happen to be." Charley replied. "It's used by small minded prigs who want to get their arses beaten." he gave Ron a warning glance.

"Better not let mum know." Fred told his older brother. "She'll throw a right fit, having a Gypsy in the house."

"Me, I don't mind so much." George replied. "Interesting people, Gypsies. Got a few ideas for some of our merchandise from them. Them, they don't trust anyone. They're good for hiding charms and warding."

"So Gypsies are witches and wizards?" Harry asked curiously, looking over at the short, dark haired, olive-toned woman.

"Naw, they're more like half-wizards." Ron told him. "They got magic, but it isn't strong. It's more belief then anything else. Got a lot of superstitions, don't like outsiders. Oh, they're pleasant enough, but they'll steal the chair out from under you."

"Ron." Charley growled warningly. "Don't let me hear that from you again." he looked at Harry. "Gypsies are witches and wizards, but not in the way you think of them. Their power comes from faith. They can't do any of the big stuff, like transformation of incantation, but they're bloody fantastic at potions and charms. Some of the best potion-masters in the world are Gypsies. A lot of wizards don't like them much," he glanced at Ron sharply, "because they're very protective and very poor. But more then that it's because they operate in the Muggle world. They aren't afraid to sell a Muggle a love-potion or a warding spell for the right amount of money. Officially they are not part of the Ministry or any recognized form of Wizarding government. However, the Ministry isn't afraid to use them if they need them--and if they'll consent." Ron snorted, earning him another sharp glance. "But they don't much like us."

"What about her?" he looked over at the Gypsy woman, who was now standing alone, Moody having left.

"She's a special case." Charley blushed a little. "She works with the dragon-studiers up in Romania. She's a guide, she knows where they hide. They know exactly where the nests are because they have to avoid setting up camp in their hunting grounds. That, and, they have some sort of a bond with the dragons. Don't ask me what, but some of the women--they can even talk to them."

Ron whistled. "Didn't know that."

"They're not so bad, once they trust you." Charley told him. "You should come over and talk to her when the ceremony's done." he offered.

"Sure, whatever." Ron shrugged.

Hermione showed back up a moment later. "It's about to start." She said, obviously excited.

An old wizard in light blue robes entered through the opening and crossed over to where a small, stone alter was set up, on it lay a wand, a knife, and a golden chalice. "Will everyone please form a circle." he called.

The guests began to spread out around the alter, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Fred and George all kept together, Charley crossed back to where Nadia stood.

There was a sudden mummer as Ginny entered. She wore all white, hair done up in a rather attractive way and studded with flowers. She held two ropes in her hands and blushed slightly when she realized that everyone thought she looked pretty. Harry tried not to. She crossed to stand beside the Presiding Wizard and waited silently.

A moment later the bride and groom entered. Fleur wore a long, pale green sheet dress, her silvery hair was free around her shoulders, a garland of white flowers around her head. She held Bill's hand, their intertwined fingers just above their shoulders. George wore robes of red, his hair, usually back in a ponytail was free, and around his head was a garland of leaves. There was a muted clapping from all the guests and Fluer nearly fawned. She was smiling so wide that her face was in danger of splitting, and there were tears in her eyes.

They walked through the circle and knelt before the alter, bowing their heads to the wizard. The old man took the wreathes off of their heads and lay them on the alter, taking the knife and cutting a small lock of hair from each of their heads. He lay the two wreathes next to each other, their circumferences barely overlapping to make a venn-diagram shape, he placed the hair in the space of the overlaying part. The couple moved to kneel facing one another, taking each other's hands. "Oh joyous day we are here together to witness this bonding of two young souls, for two are far more powerful then one. May your lives be filled with happiness and no evil befall you in your journey through life and death." he took the two lengths of rope from Ginny. "These cords represent your life, two, and yet equal. With these you are bound to the mortal realm, apart, separate, two entities." He bound Fleur's hands with the green rope. "Green, the color of life, of femininity, of reproduction, and of growth." he bound Bill's hands with the red cord. "Red, the color of passion, strength, masculinity, and destruction. There can be no life without destruction. There can be no destruction without there first be life to destroy. You are bound by mortal bodies and sexual constraints."

Harry watched, very interested. He'd never seen a ceremony quite like this. It was beautiful and sort of scary at the same time. What did he mean that they were "bound as two separate entities now?" Did Wizarding Marriage mean that you became one person? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sure fought enough to make it seem that way. He looked over at them, Mrs. Weasley was holding onto her husbands arm, silent tears falling down her face, a huge, silly smile on her face.

"Fleur DeLacour, do you, on this day of festivity and rejoicing, take this man, Bill Weasley, to be with you for all of your days? To become one, to create life, and to die?" he asked.

"I do." Fleur replied, her voice shaking, a tear streaking down her cheek.

"And do you, Bill Weasley, on this day of festivity and rejoicing, take this woman, Fleur DeLacour, to be with you for all of your days? To become one, to create life, and to die?" he asked.

"I do." Bill replied.

"So be it." the wizard tapped the ropes with his wand, instantly the loose ends connected with each other, red to green, forming only one cord. "Please raise your wands." he addressed the crowd. Everyone pulled out their wands and pointed them upwards. "Come to us, loved ones and ancestors. Those who came before, those who have passed during life. Come and sanctify this union of souls. Come and join this man and this woman. Join their souls as one." he called, raising his own wand. Harry closed his eyes, trying to think about the people that he loved that had died. His parents, Sirius, even Dumbledore.

For a moment nothing happened, Harry looked around curiously. Then, suddenly, a faint golden glow started spreading from his, and everyone else's wands simultaneously. The glow grew and surrounded them in a sort of golden barrier, everything shone and sparkled. There was a faint red glow all around Bill, and a Green one around Fleur, the two colors began to seep from their skin down through their connected hands.

A movement caught Harry's attention. He looked over at the barrier wall and realized that there were shadowy figures in it. They really had called their ancestors. He instantly began searching for his parents. For Sirius. For Dumbledore. But the shadows were too vague to make out.

"Drink from this cup, it represents life, it represents rebirth. It represents a new beginning." he held the cup to Fleur's lips, she drank, and then to Bills, who followed suit. They began to glow with a white light, bathing them until they shown brilliantly.

Suddenly there was a crack and the crowd gasped, a figure broke free of the barrier, throwing himself into the circle. Harry looked back at Fleur and Bill, who were blissfully unaware, obviously sharing some sort of a moment.

The figure began to solidify, Harry's throat hitched in his throat. It was Dumbledore! He looked around at the assembled group. He was speaking! Or at least his lips were moving, but the sound was almost inaudible. He shouted again, this time loud enough so that everyone could hear the whisper. "Trust the heirs! Trust the heirs!" he yelled.

There was another crack and the barrier fell, and with it Dumbledore's image and the white light around Fleur and Bill.

Everyone in the circle was breathless and shocked.

"You--you are now one." The Presiding Wizard gasped, obviously trying to finish the ceremony. "You are now married, kiss your bride." he indicated.

Bill leaned forward and kissed Fleur, squeezing her hands gently. When they broke they both stood and raised their arms, grinning.

But there was only silence.