Hey, quick update, no? At least, compared to the last one… The usual disclaimer applies: It's not mine. Honestly. It's JK Rowling's, except for one itsy bitsy little quote from Ernest Hemmingway. I kinda stole that.
The next two weeks passed all too quickly for Harry. It had been easy to accept a post as a teacher, but actually fulfilling his promise would be another matter entirely. He was apprehensive as to what the students would think. Some would certainly consider it a great affront to have someone their own age teaching them. Professor McGonagall contacted him once more by owl, telling him that she thought it best not to stick to the usual curriculum, but to teach all years the best defenses against what they would most likely encounter with Voldemort back in power. Hermione gave a delighted squeal when he- mostly to himself- said that he ought to draw up some kind of lesson plan, and approached him an hour later with a complete outline of what he was to teach.
"Wow, Hermione," Ron said, looking over Harry's shoulder, "maybe you should teach the class."
"Basic jinxes, shields, Unforgivable Curses, Dementors, dangerous magical creatures… Ron's right. You can take the post."
Hermione shook her head. "You're better than me at Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry, you really are. You got an Outstanding O.W.L., and I only got Exceeds Expectations. You taught the D.A., and you've… you've defeated Voldemort so many times…" Harry flushed; he did not like this subject.
"Let's go have lunch," he said quickly. "Ron, your mum was putting together some sandwiches…"
Bill's and Fleur's wedding was planned for the twenty-third of August, a Saturday. Harry was rather excited; he had never attended a wizard wedding before. Come to think of it, he'd never attended any wedding before. The Dursleys had never bothered to take him along. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur went to Diagon Alley two weeks before the wedding to get Fleur a gown. Bill ordered a tuxedo, which he brought home from work one day and tried it on. Hermione and Ginny excitedly showed Harry pictures of the garden where it was to take place, and Bill started getting nervous.
An expectant, nervous excitement permeated the air the day before the wedding. Ginny and Hermione were practically giddy with delight, and Bill was walking around with a dazed expression on his face. Fleur was spending the day with her family, who had recently come from France, and Fred and George arrived from their shop in Diagon Alley, warmly wringing Harry's hand and presenting Bill with a gift that contained a silver ring, with words circling the edge of it, saying, "Kiss the Bride."
"In case you forget to kiss her when you get up there," George told him.
"Don't worry," Fred added, "if you do it all wrong, we'll cause a diversion, so that no one's attention is on you."
Bill grasped their heads and slammed them together, grinning. "I don't even want to know what kind of 'diversion' you'd come up with."
"Ow," said George.
"No call for that," Fred muttered, massaging the side of his head.
Harry awoke on the morning of the wedding with a sense of apprehension in his stomach, as if some sixth sense were trying to tell him something. He passed it off as anticipation of the upcoming event and rolled out of bed. Ron was already downstairs; his bed was empty. Harry quickly dressed and made his way out of the room.
Downstairs was a bustle of activity. Fleur was there, exuberantly talking about that afternoon while her mother, Claire Delacour, rolled curlers into her hair and Hermione arranged a vase of flowers. Ginny was grumpily sitting still for her own mother, who was doing something her wand to make Ginny's long, red hair curl into an elegant bun. Harry felt the familiar swooping sensation in his stomach when she smiled at him. Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister who was ten years old, was humming softly and stroking the silky gown that she was to wear, a pale pink one with pearl-colored embroidery. Ginny had an identical one and was very disgruntled about having to wear it, though Bill had managed to talk her into it.
"Oh, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley called as he entered the kitchen, "come here, Claire has ordered some robes for all the boys. Come try yours on."
She laid down the brush and beckoned him into the sitting room, where five sets of identical dress robes hung over the arms and backs of various chairs. Ron was in there, trying his own on.
"I still think they look like dresses," Ron muttered while his mother's back was turned.
The dress robes were dark green embroidered with cream and with Ron's worst nightmare sewn around the hems: lace. He looked at his wrists in disgust. "Did they have to have lace on them, Mum?"
Mrs. Weasley shot her son a reproving glance. "Of course. Special occasions call for lace and embroidery."
"Yes, but for girls," he protested.
Mrs. Weasley ignored him and picked up a set of dress robes. "Here you are, Harry. Try them on and tell me how they fit."
Harry pulled the robes over jeans and t-shirts. They felt as though they had been made for him. "They fit," he told her.
"Good," she said in satisfaction. "Claire was so kind to get all of this, she and Aleron are paying for so much…"
Aleron, Fleur's father who only spoke French, had entered just at that moment, and looked quizzically at Mrs. Weasley, having heard his name mentioned. She just smiled winningly at him and kissed his cheek. He smiled back and said something in French.
"Oh, yes, quite," Mrs. Weasley agreed, even though she didn't speak French, and bustled out of the room.
Harry pulled the dress robes off and looked at Ron, who was staring at his own in utter hatred. "It's okay, mate, it's only for one afternoon."
"Yes," Ron muttered, "but it's going to be the longest afternoon of my life."
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Bill looked dashing in his crisp, white suit (he'd taken out his fang earring), Fleur looked more beautiful than Harry had ever seen her (indeed, Ron couldn't stop ogling), and everyone else present seemed to have forgotten everything depressing for the afternoon. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, he looking rather depressed in his lacy dress robes and she beaming excitedly. Fred and George sat next to Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (who was crying happily) on Ron's other side. Aside from about sixty of Fleur's friends and their families, many people from the Order of the Phoenix had shown up to witness the wedding. Tonks and Lupin were there, as were Mad-eye Moody, Professor McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sturgis Podmore, Elphias Doge, and Mundungus Fletcher. Mrs. Weasley's face had fallen slightly when she'd seen the last addition tagging along, but ushered him into the garden anyway.
The garden itself was beautiful. It was a huge semicircle, with its open face towards the soaring cliffs that plunged down to greet the seas. Directly from the gate through the huge black fence ran a small stream, which passed directly through the semicircle and dropped off into the ocean. Around the edge was a ring of evergreens, through which paved paths twisted, wound, crisscrossed, and intersected, all emerging on the other side of the trees to find another ring of rosebushes. These were occupied by tiny, glowing fairies of all different colors, which flitted around their heads as they passed, leaving behind them a wake of shining dust, which, when walked through, left one with a feeling of euphoria. Past the rosebushes was a huge grassy area, at the center of which was a small waterfall, formed by the brook that rushed past, and in front of the waterfall, a bridge spanned the water. Behind the bride, with their backs to the cliffs, were lined about a hundred chairs.
Harry watched as Fleur and Bill, from opposite sides of the stream, walked towards each other across the bridge after the final words were uttered. Bill, as if in a daze, slowly lifted the veil and kissed her passionately.
There was tremendous applause as they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace. Harry looked around at all his companions, everyone who had come to watch, and something within his heart lifted. He knew, right then, that Voldemort could take away almost everything from him, from the Weasleys, from the Order of the Phoenix, from anyone he wanted, but he had no power, however much he tried, to snatch away their love. He could never smash their love. They could be beaten, shattered, destroyed, but not defeated. Never defeated.