Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my name isn't J. K. Rowling...which means that I own nothing. While you guys read, I'll go cry in a corner about the fact that I didn't create this marvelous world and these amazing characters.
The death of Mad-Eye hung over the house in the days that followed. I was always expecting him to come through the kitchen door like the other Order members did when they came for a quick bite to eat or to relay news. Whenever they came to relay news, mum would always shoo me out of the kitchen to do some task for the wedding since she didn't believe I should be able to hear about what the Order was up to since I was underage.
I took a kind of vindictive pleasure when mum forced Harry and Hermione to help the rest of us with the wedding. I knew the trio was planning something together and by making them keep constantly busy and apart, mum was hoping that they wouldn't have enough time to plan this mission and then they would have no choice but to return to school. Obviously mum hadn't met Ron, Harry and Hermione because they were a stubborn lot and they would leave for this mission, ready or not.
Every day at breakfast, mum would give us a list of things that had to be done that day. So for the next few days all I did was polish the fancy old silver, clean the regular cutlery, help de-gnome the garden, help Fleur, mum and Hermione match up favours, ribbons and flowers by colour, do laundry, dust the entire house, and help mum cook for everyone staying at the house.
I was thankful for the work mum was making me do all day because it made me tired enough that I fell asleep right away into dreamless sleep. Before I had this constant work to occupy my mind, I would lay awake, always thinking about Dumbledore being dead, or the scars on Bills face or how I still craved Draco's arms around me even after everything I knew he was capable of now.
I sometimes cried myself to sleep for my glaring mistakes but usually I wouldn't allow myself to cry. Usually, I would just berate myself in my head for how stupid I had been. My nightmares continued too but instead of Voldemort killing my friends, it was usually of the picture Harry had painted in my mind of how Dumbledore crumpled over the tower and I would scream and cry and try to grab him but Dumbledore always fell.
"I think mum thinks that if she can stop the three of you getting together and planning, she'll be able to delay you leaving," I told Harry as we set the table for lunch two days before the wedding.
"And then what does she think will happen?" Harry muttered. "Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?"
So that's what the trio were planning to accomplish! They were going off to somehow kill Voldemort. I figured that was the case but it was different hearing it confirmed.
"So it's true?" I said. "That's what you're trying to do?"
"I-not-I was joking," said Harry. He was a terrible liar.
Our conversation had been whispered so we both jumped when the door kitchen door opened and dad, Kingsley and Bill walked in.
We were often joined for dinner by other Order members since our house had replaced Grimmauld Place as the headquarters. Dad had explained that after the death of Dumbledore—who was the Secret-Keeper to Grimmauld Place—everyone who Dumbledore had told about the location of Grimmauld Place became the Secret-Keeper. Since there were twenty people Dumbledore had told, the Fidelius Charm was weakened since there were too many people who knew the location. Dad said that before Mad-Eye died, he set up curses against Death Eaters on Grimmauld Place just in case Snape told the Death Eaters the location.
Mum and Fleur brought the food to the table and we all tucked in. I found myself happily sitting between Bill and Tonks and I dug into my chicken with gusto. With all this constant work, I found myself always hungry.
"No news about Mad-Eye?" Harry asked Bill.
"Nothing," replied Bill.
Lupin and Bill had been unable to find Mad-Eye's body so we weren't able to hold a funeral for him. Bill had taken it hard but I had assured him that it had been dark and with the confusion of battle, no one would have been able to locate the body.
"The Daily Prophet hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body," Bill went on. "But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."
"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry asked dad.
Dad shook his head.
"Why?" pressed Harry. "Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?"
"The latter, I think," said dad. "Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as his is, now that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."
"Yeah, why tell the public the truth," Harry spat.
"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" asked Ron angrily.
"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," dad replied. "Terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumours going around; I for one don't believe that the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile, Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day. I just hope he's working on a plan."
We moved on to talk about the wedding while we finished eating and then mum served apple tart after she had cleaned away the dirty plates.
"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur once everyone had been served. "For ze wedding," she added after seeing Harry's blank face. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."
"Yes, good point," said mum, scanning her long list of jobs she needed done before the wedding. "Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"
"Why?" exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"
"We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man—"
"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left—"
"Don't talk to your mother like that," scolded dad. "And do as you're told."
I laughed to myself at Ron's stricken face and by the grin on Bill's face that he was trying to hide; I knew that he was laughing to himself too.
The Delacours arrived the following morning at eleven. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were already tired out as we trouped into the backyard to await the visitors. It was sunny out and I could feel myself starting to sweat even though I was dressed in jean shorts and a tank top.
I had never seen the house looking so clean I decided as I looked around. The yard had been raked, the garden had been pruned and de-gnomed, the usual collection of rusty cauldrons and boots had been replaced by two new Flutterby bushes and the chickens had been shut away.
The Delacours couldn't come straight to the house since a huge assortment of enchantments had been placed on our house by the Ministry and the Order. So dad had to meet the Delacours on a nearby hill where they would arrive by Portkey.
Bill and Fleur came to wait with us but we didn't have to wait long. The first sound of their approach was a high-pitched laugh which I was surprised to figure out came from dad as he appeared at the gate a moment later. He was laden down with luggage and was leading a pretty blonde woman in long, leaf green robes. She couldn't have been anyone but Fleur's mother.
"Maman!" cried Fleur, rushing forward and embracing her parents. "Papa!"
Once she let go of her parents, Fleur stooped and gathered her sister into a tight hug.
Monsieur Delacour was nowhere near attractive as his wife; he was a head shorter and extremely plump, with a little, pointed black beard. However, he looked good-natured. Bouncing on high-heeled boots towards mum who was standing behind us, he kissed her twice on each cheek, leaving her flustered.
"You 'ave been through so much trouble," he said in a deep voice. "Fleur tells us you 'ave been working very 'ard."
"Oh, it's been nothing, nothing!" trilled mum. "No trouble at all!"
I huffed and crossed my arms angrily while Ron aimed a kick at a gnome that was poking out from behind one of the Flutterby bushes.
"Dear lady," said Monsieur Delacour, still holding mum's hand between his own plump ones and beaming. "We are most honoured at the approaching union of our two families! Let me present my wife, Apolline."
Madam Delacour glided forward and bent to kiss mum on the cheek also.
"Enchantée," she said. "Your 'usband 'as been telling us such amusing stories!"
Dad gave a maniacal laugh; mum threw him a look, upon which he became immediately silent and assumed the expression appropriate to the sickbed of a close friend. I giggled at the effects of Fleur's mum's Veela blood on dad.
"And, of course, you 'ave met my leetle daughter, Gabrielle," said Monsieur Delacour. Gabrielle was Fleur in miniature upon my closer inspection. Fleur said that Gabrielle was eleven and she had waist-length hair of pure, silvery blonde and big blue eyes. She gave mum a dazzling smile and hugged her and then threw Harry a glowing look while batting her eyelashes.
"Well, come in, do!" said mum brightly. She ushered the Delacours into the house and left the rest of us to follow behind. Bill and dad took care of the luggage and then joined us around the table as mum served the Delacours tea.
With the Delacours now staying with us, the Burrow was now overstuffed. Mum and dad were now sleeping in the sitting room after insisting that Monsieur and Madame Delacour take their bedroom. Gabrielle was staying with Fleur in Percy's room and once Charlie arrived tomorrow from Romania, he and Bill would be staying in their shared room. Hermione and I were sharing my bedroom while Ron and Harry were in Ron's room and the twins kept their old room.
I was thankfully tired every night from preparations for the wedding so that Hermione never had to deal with one of my nightmares. It would have been a mess explaining why exactly I was dreaming about Dumbledore's death.
Charlie's arrival the next day was an excellent diversion from being in the crowded house since he liked to spend time outside. Once I greeted him with an enthusiastic hug, I snuck down to the lake for a walk with Charlie and Bill, happy in the company of my oldest brothers.
Once we returned after an hour of sitting and talking in the shade of the trees, mum sent me to check that all the fancy linens were cleaned while she sat Charlie down for a haircut.
That night was Harry's birthday dinner. Since having it in the kitchen would have stretched the house to its breaking point, mum decided it was best to have it out in the garden. Tables were placed end to end and the twins had bewitched purple lanterns with a large number 17 on them to float over our heads. Lupin, Tonks and Hagrid showed up for dinner and sat and watched Hermione decorate the garden with her wand by draping purple and gold streamers over the tree branches.
"Out of the way, out of the way!" sang mum, coming through the backdoor with a giant Snitch cake floating in front of her. She was suspending it with her wand instead of risk carrying it over the uneven ground.
"That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh, it's nothing, dear," she replied fondly.
"Where are the others?" I asked, noticing the absence of Charlie, Bill and Fleur.
"I'm right here little sister," said Charlie, strolling through the grass to the tables. He was running his hands through his new, brutally short haircut and looked sheepish.
Bill and Fleur followed behind him and as Bill passed, he playfully rumpled my hair. I shot him a glare as I fixed my hair and he grinned at me.
"Hi, Hagrid, how's it going?" asked Charlie, sitting beside Hagrid.
"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin?"
"Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."
"Wha—Norbert's a girl?"
"Oh yeah," said Charlie.
"How can you tell?" asked Hermione.
"They're a lot more vicious," explained Charlie. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his voice. "Wish dad would hurry up and get here. Mum's getting edgy."
I looked over to mum to see that even though she was trying to talk to Madam Delacour, she kept glancing towards the gate.
"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she said to everyone gathered in the garden. "He must have been held up at—oh!"
A silver light streaked through the sky towards us and landed in the middle of the table. The light took the shape of a weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke in dad's voice.
"Minister of Magic coming with me."
Once the message was relayed, the Patronus dissolved.
"We shouldn't be here," said Lupin at once. "Harry—I'm sorry—I'll explain some other time—"
He grabbed Tonks' wrist and pulled her up and away. They reached the fence, climbed over it and vanished from sight. Mum wasn't the only one to look utterly bewildered.
What was going on with Tonks and Lupin?
A second later, dad appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour. They strolled towards the group and while dad moved to stand by us, Scrimgeour halted in front of the table.
I had only ever seen Rufus Scrimgeour once at Dumbledore's funeral and he only looked slightly different now. He still looked like a grizzled lion but he was thinner, paler and more tired looking.
"Sorry to intrude," said Scrimgeour. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."
He looked to the Snitch cake then looked to Harry. "Many happy returns."
"Thanks," said Harry stiffly.
"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour went on. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."
"Us?" questioned Ron, surprise evident in his voice. "Why us?"
"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said Scrimgeour. "Is there such a place?"
"Yes, of course," said dad, trying not to appear nervous. "The, er, sitting room. Why don't you use that?"
"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour said to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."
Mum and dad exchanged a worried look but held back as Ron led the group into the house. Once they were gone, everyone started talking as they tried to figure out what Scrimgeour wanted with Harry, Hermione and Ron.
About twenty minutes later, Scrimgeour stormed out of the house and disapparated past the gate without looking at any of us. A second later, Harry, Hermione and Ron returned to the group, all holding something in their hands. Ron was gripping something that looked like a lighter, Hermione was clutching a book to her chest and Harry was holding something gold.
"What did Scrimgeour want?" asked dad.
"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the content of his will."
I gulped at the mention of Dumbledore but no one took notice. They were too busy passing around the items and trying to figure out why Dumbledore would have given Ron the Deluminator, Hermione The Tales of Beedle the Bard and Harry a Snitch that he had apparently caught his first ever Quidditch match. Apparently, Dumbledore had also given Harry the sword of Godric Gryffindor but Scrimgeour had refused to pass it on to Harry.
Mum tentatively interrupted everyone's theorizing. "Harry, dear, everyone's awfully hungry and we didn't like to start without you...shall I serve dinner now?"
Everyone ate rather hurriedly, sang a hasty chorus of "Happy Birthday" and gulped down the cake. The party broke up soon after and while Hagrid went to pitch a tent in a nearby field, the rest of us cleaned up the garden for tomorrow.
Once finished, I climbed up to my room, changed into sleep shorts and a tank top before Hermione returned to our shared room and went back downstairs. Mum and dad were talking quietly in the kitchen and they didn't even look up as I padded past them into the living room.
I had come to find a book to read from the small bookshelf but I was surprised to instead find Bill and Charlie lounging in the armchairs, each holding a glass of firewhiskey.
"Hey, Gin," they greeted in unison.
I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow to Bill with the sternest expression I could muster. "Shouldn't you be in bed? You are getting married tomorrow."
Bill raised his glass to me before taking a sip. "Just warming up my feet."
I moved around from behind the sofa and plopped down on the cushions. "Getting cold feet?"
"Nah, they're toasty warm."
"What are you doing down here?" asked Charlie. "Aren't you supposed to be getting your beauty rest or something for tomorrow?"
"I'm not the bride," I scoffed. "Anyways, I think I'm pretty enough."
"Fleur's going to murder you tomorrow if you even have a shadow under your eye," laughed Bill.
"Well she'll be short a bridesmaid then."
"Want a glass of firewhiskey?" offered Charlie, getting to his feet. He poured me a glass and then sat back down. I took a sip and the liquid warmed my cheeks pleasantly.
"So after tomorrow, it'll be your turn to get married," I said to Charlie.
"I prefer dragons to woman," he said.
Bill choked a little on his drink. "You do not prefer dragons to the company of women."
"I prefer dragons to the notion of marriage," said Charlie, shrugging. "I don't believe I'm the marrying type."
"C'mon," I said. "I'm sure Bill would love to introduce you to some of Fleur's Veela cousins."
"Bill actually just told me that he would before you came in," said Charlie.
"And who knows," said Bill, turning to me. "Maybe you'll meet a bloke."
I scoffed at that notion. I took a larger sip than last time of the amber liquid as an image of Draco flooded my mind.
"Is it true what Ron told us, then?" asked Charlie.
I rolled my eyes. "Never believe anything Ron tells you about me."
"So it's not true then that you broke up with your steady boyfriend named Dean Thomas and then turned down Harry when he asked you out?" pressed Bill. "Because you wanted to be single for a while."
I giggled to myself that my two oldest brothers were gossiping like old ladies. "Yes, that's all true but I'll tell you what I told Ron; who I date and what I do with them is none of your business."
"Actually," said Charlie. "It is our business."
"See, you're our little sister," said Bill. "Our only sister, actually."
I finished off my glass of firewhiskey and set the glass down on the table beside the couch. "And now I know I could never come to any of my brothers for guy advice."
"Our little sister needs guy advice from us?" Bill asked.
"From the stories I've heard, you're quite popular among the opposite sex at school," said Charlie. "What would you need advice from us for?"
I was inches away from spilling my guts out about Draco to my two brothers. Maybe it was the firewhiskey that was causing it or maybe it was because I felt perfectly comfortable with Bill and Charlie.
Bill had always been my favorite brother when I was growing up and nothing had changed in that aspect even though we were both older now. Charlie and I had always been close since he was the one that taught me how to read and he would play airplane with me. In fact, I was kind of sad that Bill was going to be married because, in a sense, it felt like Fleur was taking Bill from me. I also hated that Charlie would be going back to Romania a day after tomorrow.
I gulped and stuffed my feelings down. Now was not the time to tell them about Draco, what role I had played in the attack of Hogwarts and how I could be blamed for Bill's scars and Dumbledore's death.
I shook my head. "It was a rhetorical question. I don't have any guy in my life that I need advice about."
"If you ever need any questions, you can come to us," said Charlie condescendingly.
I giggled. "I'm perfectly capable of figuring out guys on my own. But I'll be sure to take you up on that offer if I'm ever desperate."
Bill and Charlie both drained their glasses and stood up. Bill held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. "C'mon Gin. I think we all need as much sleep as possible for tomorrow."
"Fine," I grumbled.
I followed Bill and Charlie through the kitchen where mum and dad were still talking and up the stairs. They stopped at my door to wish me goodnight.
"Goodnight Gin," said Charlie, playfully ruffling my hair. I batted his hand away, feigning anger. Charlie didn't believe for a second and he laughed.
Bill leaned down and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight Ginny. I'll save you a dance or two tomorrow night."
"You better," I said. "After all, I am your little and only sister."
Charlie patted me on the head one more time before Bill and Charlie started climbing the stairs to their bedroom.
"You better save me a dance too, Charlie," I called up the stairs.
I could hear Bill and Charlie laughing as they climbed the stairs and I grinned to myself as I entered my bedroom. I wasn't surprised to see that Hermione wasn't in the room. No doubt she was up in Ron's room with Ron and Harry.
I was feeling particularly nice towards the three of them despite their stupid idea that they would drop out of school and kill Voldemort so I left the lamp that was on my nightstand turned on for Hermione so she wouldn't trip in the dark when she returned.
With my tired eyes and alcohol warmed cheeks, I quickly drifted off into a pleasant dream where Draco wasn't a Death Eater or a Malfoy and I could tell my brothers everything I wanted to about him.
Review! I would really like reviews because when I need a pick-me-up, I actually just read all my enthusiastic reviews and they make me smile.
So next chapter is the wedding and I was really excited to write that because I love weddings :) Anyways, once I reach 90 reviews, I'll post the next chapter!