AN: Hey guys. Sorry for the long delay. I know, it's been a month. I'm sorry! I'm going to try and see if I can still to a two-week update schedule – would that be good for you guys? Also – this was just a vague thought – if I made a twitter account for Wooden Words, would you guys be interested in following that? With more rapid information on updates, etc? Or is just good for you? Tell me in reviews, or PM me.

AN2: RonScorpiusLover MAKE AN ACCOUNT. DO IT.

AN3: Dress sizes mentioned are in UK sizes – thus, 10 = US8, 8 = US6, 6 = US4.

Chapter Fifteen

Settle Down

I want to settle down – won't you settle down with me?

Ringringringringringring.

"Oliver, can you get the phone?"

I glanced at my reflection, turning on the spot. My hair was just not cooperating today.

Ringringringring.

"Oliver! I know you know how to use it!" Oliver had surprised me with how rapidly he made everything normal again. I'd come home to an apartment full of that delicious popcorn smell, and my favourite movie – The Princess Bride – already queued up. The only thing that had changed, in fact, since Oliver's little outburst was a tiny, awkward shift in our relationship. We didn't touch as often, didn't hug as often. There was just a strange, uncomfortable distance – and whether that was my doing or his, I don't know.

Ringringringringring-

"OLIVER." I yanked open the door in time to see him pick up the phone, looking bleary.

"Yeah?"

I rolled my eyes. Talk about Mr. Charisma.

"Oh, hi, Alicia. Yeah. Yeah, she's right here." He handed me the phone and yawned hugely.

I held the phone a little away from my ear – I knew from experience that Alicia was both loud, and not quite the most adept at muggle technology.

"Hi, Alicia. No, he just woke up, I think. Yeah. Oh. Oh! That's – wow. Really? That's great!"

Oliver looked perplexedly at me. I waved a hand at him and frowned into the reciever.

"Wait. When?"

I turned to our calendar. (Glamour photos of Nimbuses. It came with our copy of Which Broom. I mean, really, what did you expect?)

"Seriously? Alicia, that's – oh my god. Alicia. That's a month away. Okay, okay a month and a week. Whatever. You're insane. I – yes – okay!"

I held the receiver away, staring at it in disbelief.

Oliver waved a hand in front of my face.

"Katie? What's up? What'd she say?"

I blinked up at him, processing as fast as I could.

"I gotta go. Bye!" I said, suddenly, and sprinted out the door.

xoxox

"I just don't see it, Alicia."

I looked at Angelina, lounging out next to me, who shrugged.

"To be honest, I don't either. Does this mean we're not proper girls?"

"You know, I don't know, Angie." We pondered together.

"Seriously, you guys? Okay. Look. Cream, off-white, ivory, eggshell! They're so different!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Leesh. Aren't wedding dresses just supposed to be – y'know – white? Isn't that some sort of symbol? Like, innocence or purity or something?"
"Yes, well, Alicia sure isn't pure anymore –" Angelina waggled her eyebrows at me.

"Hey!" Alicia cried, throwing a pillow at Angelina's head with a chaser's unerring aim. "I am perfectly ladylike in all I do." She said, crossing her legs primly.

I snorted incredulously.

"At least I don't snort." She cut at me, brown eyes crinkling.

Eh. Fair enough.

"That hurt, you know." Angelina said crossly, rubbing her forehead. "I'd forgotten how hard you throw."

"Do I really snort that often?" I was reflecting on my own – many – unladylike habits.

Angelina and Alicia exchanged looks.

"Not to be rude, Kat…" Alicia started,

"And you know how we love you," Angelina added.
"But all the time." They chorused.

They burst out laughing.

"Ugh," I groaned. "You've been spending too much time with the twins. You're gonna start finishing each other's sentences. It'll be sickening." Angelina grinned.

"Okay, but seriously, guys." Alicia pulled her fabric swatches back out, a serious look returning to her face. "Which one do you think is prettier?"

"Oh, not this again, Leesh." Angelina moaned.
"Is George really going to care?"
"George? Psh. It's my wedding dress! I care!"

I chuckled as I flopped back onto the couch. Typical, fashionista Alicia.

"You two are no help." She pouted.

"Nope." Angie agreed cheerfully, dangling her feet over the armchair arm.

"Hm. Well then, I won't bother you with what I've been thinking about for your dresses… I'm sure it'd only bore you." She sighed dramatically, sweeping her sheaves of parchment and fabric into her arms.

I shot up. "What?"

"Oh, no you don't." Angelina was up too, gazing at Alicia raptly.

She grinned mischievously. "So selfish. Only interested in your dresses –"

"Oh, shove it, Alicia. Show us!"

"You really want to see?"

I shot her a look.

"Oh, okay. But it's just a first draft, a rough sketch. You know." She rifled through the massive pile and pulled out a single sheet. "Here." She held it out to us.

It was a carefully sketched fashion illustration – a slender, stylized girl wearing a cocktail dress.

"Oh, Leesh. Wow."

The dress was a light silvery-grey fabric, a carefully pleated full skirt drifting lazily about the girl's knees. A brighter silver underskirt glittered through the chiffon as the girl waved up at us, beaming. The fabric twisted into folds and knots across the bodice, nipped in with a dark sash.

"Turn around," Alicia said to the girl, who cheerfully complied, spinning round in a swish of fabric.

"Ooh!" The dress, halter-top and sweetheart in the front, cut to a deep, long V in the back. The sash tied into a bow mid-V, floating in a bare back.

"This is so cool, Alicia." Angelina said, "I love it."
"Hang on," I'd noticed a familiar signature in the corner. "Did you draw this, Leesh?" Angelina turned back to the sketch, surprised.

Alicia blushed.

"You did!"

"Alicia, that's awesome! You designed this? Hang on-"

"Are you designing your dress, too? Wait-"

"Have you done this before? And you haven't told-"
" – shown me any before? HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN FRIENDS, WOMAN?"

"Woah!" Alicia held her hands up against the sudden onslaught. "Woah, chill out, guys. No!" She covered my mouth to stop me speaking. "Nu-uh. Sit. Down."

We complied.

"Okay." Alicia took a breath. "1) I did. 2) Yes, I've been thinking about designing my dress, too. 3) No, never before. 4) Never been any before – I mean, apart from doodles in notes – so… no. 5) Almost 10 years, I think? Right?" She looked from one face to the other. "That was all of them, right?"

"I-"

"I think that was, actually." Angelina was frowning in concentration, clearly counting backwards in her head.

"But Alicia! This is so cool! We'll have custom-made dresses? This is so exciting."

"Seriously, Alicia, why'd you start with swatches of the same color of white? When you had all of this?"

"So when do we get to see these in real life?"

"You guys! What is with you and the crazy questions today?" Alicia was looking hassled again.

"BECAUSE WE ARE EXCITED AND THIS IS HOW I SOUND WHEN I AM EXCITED."

"Look, I am literally exploding things downstairs and that hurt my ears."

We spun round to see a tousle-haired Fred leaning against the banister, arms crossed.

"Fred!" Alicia's papers went flying as she jumped in surprise. "Is George with you? I hadn't realized you were all done. He shouldn't – see all this –" She dove around, scooping up papers in a frenzy.

Fred looked amused. "It's not the morning-of yet. He can still see you." He watched Alicia's frantic scrabbling a little bit longer before adding, gently. "Alicia. He's not coming upstairs."

"Oh," she sighed in relief, sitting amongst the piles. "Oh. Good."

In the midst of Alicia's panic, I'd almost missed Angelina's sudden reaction. The moment we'd caught him in the doorway, she'd been transfixed, her face had been full of some strangled emotion. Even while Alicia drew Fred's attention, Angelina's eyes had never left his face. It felt strangely private – like something I shouldn't have seen. I frowned. I'd told Fred that Angelina would never let Alicia's engagement really upset her – but maybe I was overestimating her. In the silence, though, Fred turned to Angelina, his eyes automatically on her face and her expression was gone, like it had never been. She smiled at him, and the whole strange moment vanished.

"So… what's up?" Fred glanced around the room. "All the screaming?"

"Oh, Fred." Alicia shook her head. "Never get married. It's so stressful." Fred blinked. Alicia blanched. "I mean, I didn't mean –" she shot a quick look at Angelina, suddenly stony-faced. "Uh. Dresses!" She grinned weakly.

"Yeah!" I jumped in, shooting a look at Fred.

He vaulted over the back of the couch, landing next to Angelina – seriously, is everyone more athletic than me? – in a puff of dust. He slung an arm about her shoulder. "So, dresses?" He said, in a mock-girly voice. "I love dresses. What about flower arrangements? Calla lilies are simply marvelous."

Angelina giggled.

"Oh, you're awful. That's funerals, Fred. Calla lilies aren't wedding flowers."

"No?" he'd resumed his normal voice. "Well, bugger all. No wonder Fleur looked at me so askance when I bought her that bouquet."

"Actually, they're both!" Alicia held up one of her many magazines. "It says here that-"

"And dear lord, I think I hear George calling me." Fred turned. "I'm sorry, dear. It's the testosterone. I hear the bridal magazines open and it just blocks off the ears. You look beautiful."

Angelina raised her eyebrows.

Fred pulled her in for a kiss, then jumped off the couch again, waved jauntily at us and bounded back down the stairs.

Alicia shook her head. "Rude."

xoxox

Alicia's reasons for setting her wedding so incredibly soon were pretty much nonsensical to me. "This way Mrs. Weasley can't overplan too much – I love her, but, well…" and "We just don't want to wait!" sounded ridiculous. It took us a little while before she admitted that her decided-upon priest – the same little man that had married Bill and Fleur, apparently – was only available in June or December of this year. And Alicia "...just couldn't have a winter wedding!"

Angelina shook her head. "These are a lot of hoops for one guy, Alicia. Besides, there cannot possibly be that many weddings in wizarding Britain this year." She looked at me, vague bafflement on her face.

"I don't know! He just gave me two dates, and said take them or leave them! So I took it!"

Between the three of us, though, we thought we could pull if off. I had stacks and sheaves of paper for Madame Malkin and various other dressmakers, ready to work with us to fabricate Alicia's sketches. Angelina was rapidly flicking down a list, adding up expenses with a practiced eye.

"This is going to be costly, Leesh."

"I know."

Angelina glanced up at her. Alicia had her practiced puppy-dog eyes on.

"Those don't work on me and you know it. We'll make it work – not for the face-" she staved off Alicia's victorious expression with a wave – "But because you're my best friend."

"I love you, Angie!" Alicia jumped over to Angelina, flinging her arms round her and kissing her cheek.

"Ow! Watch it!" Angelina said, quickly shielding her stomach. Alicia bounded back up, still beaming.

"Oh, Katie – I need your measurements. I've already done Angelina."

"Right." I hate measurements. It's always awkward, even when it's your best friend putting their hands places that are suddenly and inexplicably ticklish. Alicia became suddenly professional, muttering to herself busily as she worked.

"Katie,"

"Hmm?"

"Katie, what size are you?"

"Um, 10, I think?"

"That's what I thought. Well," she put down her measuring tape cheerfully. "Quidditch has done you well. You're a 6, now."

"I'm sorry?" A six? I'd never been a six in my life.

"Yep." She grinned. "Look at you!"

I laughed deliriously. "You're kidding. That's fantastic." Angelina grinned too. "You do look better. Not that you were fat before, y'know." I waved a hand at her, not even caring.

"Quidditch is brilliant. I'll have to thank Oliver." Oops. Oliver. I'd left him at home in a state of complete bafflement hours before. I looked about guiltily. "You know, on that note, I should probably be heading out. I never told Oliver why I leaving and it's been hours."

Alicia's face sobered a little. "Oh, if you must. But please come back – there's tons more to do."

Angelina nodded wide eyes at me, mouthing "Save me," over and over again.

I grinned. "I'll be back, I swear. I wouldn't leave you guys high and dry." Alicia jumped up again at the word high.

"That reminds me! One last thing, Katie." She disappeared into her bedroom; Angie and I exchanged looks as thuds echoed from the door. "Found them!" she yelled triumphantly, before darting back into the room.

Dangling from her fingers were two beautiful, sparkly, silvery, sequined, spiky deathtraps.

"No." I backed away, eyes wide.

"Yes." Alicia's eyes sparkled evilly.

"I'll break my ankle, Alicia! Those have to be at least three inches!"

"Four and half, actually."

My jaw dropped.

"I can't walk in that!"

"Oh you can, and you will. Because I am getting married, Katie Bell, and that gives me the right to go bat-shit crazy on your arse for the next few weeks, and if I say you're gonna walk in these heels down that aisle, you know what?" she all of this fast, and low and fierce.

"What?" I watched her fearfully.

"You'd best be running in them."

And she grinned a terrifyingly sweet and innocent smile, handed me the heels and ushered me out.

Feck.

Settle Down - Kimbra