A/N: If you have not yet done so, please check out my two most recent one-shots, Face and The Ravenclaw Three.
I own nothing. Thanks to JJ Rust for the inspiration to have Daphne "usher" at Bill and Fleur's wedding, even if spectacularly unsuccessful! And thanks to stella8h8chang for beta-ing this chapter (as she has done for this entire story now!)
Chapter 10: The Happiest Day of Their Lives
"Dammit!"
Ginny brushed off the train of her gold bridesmaid dress. The thing kept getting wrinkled and her legs kept getting tangled up in it.
"Stupid dress. Hate this eff—"
"Stop it!"
Ginny looked up, expecting to be reprimanded for her language. Peering into the room at her right, she saw her brother, Bill, talking to someone very sternly.
"I can't help it, Bill. I can't help feeling—"
"Ron, listen. You can't keep beating yourself up like this."
"I was bloody there!" Ginny heard Ron growl, "I could've stopped Greyback from attacking you." Ginny could hear Ron swearing and pacing about the room.
"But you went to help Ginny."
Ginny closed her eyes, swallowing a lump that had appeared in her throat. She steadied her breathing; she didn't want to alert them to her presence.
Ron didn't seem like he could respond to Bill's point. Instead, he continued to mutter to himself, and Ginny heard a series of thuds as his shoes hit the wall.
"You did the absolute right thing." Ginny noticed Bill's voice, softening as he went to stand by Ron, trying to assuage his guilt. "If we had to do this whole thing again . . . if we had to fight them today, I would have done everything exactly the same. I would've done everything in my power to keep you and Ginny safe. And I would've expected you to look after her."
"You should listen to him, prat." Ginny finally stepped through the doorway.
Ron's brow darkened. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to hear you continuing to blame yourself." Ginny shook her head. "Ron, Bill's right about all of it. Don't keep doing this to yourself. Don't keep thinking this was your fault."
"Had I been in your shoes, I would've done whatever I needed to do to look after Ginny." Bill put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "This family's always been about looking out for its younger siblings. I looked out for Charlie. He looked out for Percy. We all looked out for you . . . and you took care of Ginny—"
"Er . . . what about Fred and George?"
Bill shrugged at Ginny's question. "I just thought they were raised by a pack of wolves."
Ron and Ginny both snorted.
Bill chuckled for a little bit, and then his face fell. He chewed on his lip for a few moments, and she had to stifle a smile from popping out inappropriately on her face.
(The prat's just like Ron sometimes.)
(Or maybe it's Ron who's just like Bill?)
Bill looked back up at his youngest brother. "You went to help our sister, Ron. Actually, I remember you yelling for me first. When Greyback had attacked me the first time." he gave Ron a sad smile. "You didn't run away from the fight, even though it wasn't your fight to face. You were worried about me and your sister." Bill's eyes moved between him and Ginny for a few moments; she saw his eyes glisten in the mid-morning sun.
"Not only do you need to stop blaming yourself, but you need to know this," Bill said with such seriousness that Ron averted his eyes. "I am so bloody proud to be your brother. Even though I can't help but think of you as my baby brother, my . . . my Ickle Ronniekins," the two brothers stood face-to-face, both looking at each other, and Ginny noticed both of their eyes were growing more and more wet. "Ron, you've grown up—" Bill's voice hitched and Ginny's own chin shook as her eldest brother's did. "You are a man."
Ginny wiped at her eyes. She was certain her makeup was going to be smudged, but her tears couldn't be stopped; her heart swelled up as she stood here, bearing witness to Ron asking for forgiveness that didn't need to be given. And Bill, on his wedding day, making sure Ron would not walk out of this room carrying the tremendous burden of guilt upon his skinny shoulders.
She had never been more proud of either brother.
"B-Bill . . . I should've done more—"
Bill gave him the tightest and firmest hug he could possibly muster. He thumped Ron on the back a couple of times. "You were great, Ron. You did exactly what you needed to do. And I can't say it in many more ways than that."
Ron returned his brother's hug, and Ginny saw his shoulders shake a little bit.
The two Weasleys broke apart and wiped at each other's faces.
"Aw . . ." said Ron, in a rather strangled voice, "You're crying like a girl."
Bill smacked him across his chest, the heel of his palm still rubbing his wet eyes. "Hey! I'd watch it there. You're crying as much as I am."
Ron snorted and sniffled. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Ginny cuffed him gently on his arm. "Ron — those're your dress robes!" However, she couldn't help but giggle.
Bill gestured over to Ginny. "C'mon, Gingersnap! Group hug?"
Ginny grinned and scurried quickly over to Bill and Ron and the eldest Weasley smothered his two youngest siblings in his long, strong arms.
"Bloody . . . stupid . . . futu-i!"
Daphne paused.
(What the hell?)
"Dammit! Dammit – dammit – dammit!"
She saw Charlie Weasley struggling with his tie in front of a very unhelpful hallway mirror. "Dearie, didn't your father ever teach you—"
"Yeah, but I apparently forgot!"
"Well!" the mirror huffed back at him.
"Er . . . Charlie?" Daphne walked toward the struggling Weasley brother. "Need help?"
Charlie looked at her with a rather desperate expression. "D'you know how to tie a tie?"
Daphne shook her head.
"Shite!" he huffed. He kept tugging and twisting the thing until the knot he thought he had made fell apart. The strip of fabric hung pathetically around his neck.
"Okay, can I borrow your hands for a sec?" Charlie didn't wait for an answer; instead, he grabbed her right hand and made her hold the part where the thing overlapped each other.
"Just hold it there for a moment—"
"Yeah, s'not like I was busy or anything."
Charlie flexed his jaw at Daphne's sarcastic tone. After a couple of minutes, he had managed to pull tight on the new bow that he had finally been able to knot with the extra set of hands.
"So, proper tie operation isn't something they teach you on the dragon reserve, eh?"
Charlie snorted and smirked. "Not a whole lot of dress robe functions when you're studying giant, fire-breathing reptiles." He patted down his dress robes. "Well? Do I look dashing enough?" and he flashed what he must have thought was a roguish grin.
It was Daphne's turn to snort. "Your fly's open."
Charlie's face flushed and he looked down. "Oh, balls!"
"Yes, indeed." She chuckled.
Glaring back up at her, Charlie readjusted himself. "Well?"
She nodded approvingly. "Manageable enough."
"Hey. Is that Mum's dress?"
Daphne looked down at her garb. "Um, yeah. Molly let me wear it today. I didn't have anything really nice, or anything really wedding-appropriate." Her hand brushed against the dress. "This is kinda pretty," she mumbled.
Charlie gave her an approving smile and two thumbs up. "Ya look good."
She blushed. "Th-Thanks."
"No problem. Let's get downstairs and see if they need anything." Charlie beckoned to Daphne and together, they made it down to the kitchen to see if there was anything that needed to be done before three o'clock — and to make sure the hors d'oeuvres tasted delicious before the guests arrived.
The first wizarding wedding she had ever been too also happened to be the first actual wedding she had ever attended.
Daphne couldn't stop thinking about how pretty everything was. The marquee had been beautifully decorated with fresh flowers, golden chairs and a purple carpet that designated an aisle. The witches and wizards in attendance wore their absolute magical best. And everyone had genuine smiles permanently stuck to their faces.
Neither Auntie Muriel's accusation that Molly and Arthur had taken to adopting "common street urchins", nor clutching at her pearl necklace fearing Daphne would take it, had ruined her experience.
Nor had her brief, unsuccessful stint as an usher sullied her day.
"Aargh!" She had gotten thoroughly fed up with one very stubborn, very immature Weasley cousin who refused to stop running about the marquee and hitting the other guests with balled-up fists. Daphne had angrily shouted at the boy, "Sit with your blasted family, or I'll magically suture a pair of troll testicles to your chin!"
Charlie and the twins had decided she might be better off dealing with people she was already familiar with, and had relieved her of her ushering duties.
However, Daphne found herself forgetting all the rough spots once the ceremony had started. And she couldn't suppress her smile, her euphoria as she watched Bill and Fleur become husband and wife, and then as she watched their reception unfold before her eyes.
"Weddings are wicked," she said, mostly to herself.
"They are, aren't they?"
Daphne looked over. Tonks was leaning against the pole next to her and gave her a wink.
"Wotcher, Daphne!"
Daphne grinned. "Enjoying yourself?"
Tonks sighed. "I am . . . I just sort of wish Remus and I had been able to have a wedding too. Nothing fancy like this, but something in front of our families and friends — er, well, the family and friends that're decidedly not involved in Death Eater activities." Tonks shook her head. "Would've been nice to have everyone there."
Daphne gave her a small smile. "At least the two of you are together."
Tonks wriggled her eyebrows. "Too right!" She sipped on her water. "You should go tear it up!" She gestured out towards the dance floor. "Go snag some single bloke out there or something and dance your little heart out—"
"Oh . . . er, I'm not really much of a dancer."
"Ah! Well, all you need is a little spirit! Or spirits, as it were."
"Huh?"
Daphne watched as Tonks hustled up to a waiter and ordered a glass of firewhiskey for her. The Auror handed her the glass and raised her own up.
"A toast!"
Daphne lifted her glass. "Okay. What do we toast to?"
"To-oo . . . ?" Tonks looked around with lips pushed to the right side of her face. "To life, love, and—"
"Shagging!"
Charlie Weasley's exclamation startled both Tonks and Daphne and they jumped up in the air, practically spilling their drinks.
"Dammit, Chuckles!" Tonks swatted at him while he laughed like a fool. "Don't do that!"
"So, what are you two lovelies gabbing about over here? And why the bloody hell did Remus leave you behind?" Charlie said as he kissed Tonks on her cheeks.
"He didn't . . . he's right here," came a soft, masculine voice behind them.
All three turned around and watched as Remus Lupin guided up next to his wife and slid his arm around her. Daphne noticed that, compared to his wife, who was just glowing, Lupin seemed—
(Is diminished the appropriate word?)
(Depressed? Despondent?)
"Remus! Doing all right?" Charlie held out his hand and Lupin shook it vigorously.
"Never better, Charlie." Lupin said in a softer, less enthusiastic voice. "Romania treating you well?"
"Can't complain. Dragon's are getting a bit restless, though. Typical summertime dragon-fever and hot-headedness."
Remus smiled and nodded at Charlie. "Daphne!" Lupin certainly sounded enthusiastic as he addressed her, but Daphne couldn't help but think that his face didn't quite match the forced enthusiasm his voice seemed to have. "How are you doing? Find any new Muggle tunes?"
Daphne flashed a genuine grin at Lupin. "I have actually. If you love The Beatles and The Who, I could recommend a couple of good, trendy Muggle bands that would give you some, er . . . credibility on the street," she said, smirking.
"Unfortunately, Daphne," Tonks said, eyeing Lupin very carefully, with a grin favoring the right side of her mouth, "he's more of a bloke with traditional tastes." She winked at him, and Lupin finally chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes.
He then looked at Tonks' drink. "Dora, dear, is that . . . ?"
"Water, Remus. It's just water with a little lemon."
"Oh . . . okay, fine." The band started in on a new song. "Dora," Lupin held out his hand to his wife, "would you give me the pleasure?"
"Thought you'd never ask!" Tonks plopped her glass in Charlie's hand. "Chuckles, you don't mind, d'ya?"
Charlie rolled his eyes and chuckled in amusement. "Could I stop ya if I tried?"
"Not if you wanted a face full of my Bleeding Blister Hex! I'll make that ugly mug as red as your hair!" Tonks pinched his cheeks together, squishing his face and causing his mouth to form a very misshapen "O".
"Oi!" Charlie said to the laughing Tonks and Lupin. "No way you can make this face ugly!" Smirking at them, he placed the glass on a tray held by a waiter just walking by.
"Quite the party!" Daphne spoke, rather loudly, as the music was continuing to swell.
"Looks like you're having your own celebration!" Charlie pointed to her half-full glass.
She nodded. "Trying to get into the spirit of things!" she shouted and raised her glass.
"Cheers, then! To new friends. And . . . Mum and Dad, for continuing to pick up strays!" Charlie guffawed and Daphne glared at him, but drank a big gulp of her beverage.
"Hey," Charlie said suddenly, and he grabbed her arm. "Look over there. Fred and George are trying to chat up some of Fleur's Veela friends. We should go over there and put an end to that, tout de suite! "
Giggling, Daphne downed the rest of her firewhiskey and followed Charlie out to the other side of the room.
Both Charlie and Daphne crept up behind Fred and George, who had allowed themselves to fall completely under the Veelas' charms.
"You and your bruzzer make 'ow much wiz your joke businezz?" one particularly beautiful Veela asked; her friend stood behind her, making sickly googly eyes at George.
"Well," Fred said, his thumbs holding onto the lapels of his fine dress robe, "I'm not one to brag, but let me just say that we have one of the best dragonskin wardrobes you'll find—"
"Okay," Charlie leaned towards Daphne, whispering, "on two, I want you to throw these," he put two small parcels in Daphne's hands, "in the vicinity of Fred and George's arses. On three, I'll cast the Bubble Charm. Got it?"
Daphne looked down at what Charlie had just given her, and a devilish grin grew on her face. She knew fully well where this was going to go. "Ab-sol-lute-ly!"
Charlie grinned. "Right . . . one – two –"
Daphne threw the small-range Fart Bombs right at Fred and George's buttocks.
"Wha' the—?!" Fred turned around . . . but he was too late.
Charlie's Bubble Charm enveloped Fred and George and the Veela girls; all four of the Bubble's captives were coughing and gagging. The two Veelas were fanning their faces and desperately trying to find a way out.
Charlie ran around to where the girls were. Flicking his wand a few times, Daphne watched as the two girls stumbled out of the Bubble — and right into Charlie's arms.
"Are you all right?" he asked them in a deep voice. Daphne stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle her laughter.
"Oh!" exclaimed one of the Veela.
"Ou-Oui, Monsieur. Merci!" The other Veela who had been goggling at George now looked at Charlie as if he were the last wizard standing and she had gone without any companionship for the past two years. Her friend was also giving Charlie the hungriest of stares.
"Mmm. You are very strong to 'ave caught the both of us!" her friend said in a breathy voice.
Charlie looked at them sheepishly. "It's nothing. I have to keep up my strength . . . for the dragon reserve and all."
"Oooh!" came the awed chorus from the Veela girls.
"You work wiz dragons?" the Veela on Charlie's left asked him. "They are such dangerous creatures!"
"Yes, they are." Charlie spoke in an effortlessly humble tone, "Strength and quick reflexes are absolute necessities when you're dealing with them. Or else, you'd risk a most certain death." He looked at both girls with such a serious expression, that even Daphne almost fell for the act.
"C'mon," Charlie said with a gentle smile for his new companions, tweaking both of their cheeks with his finger. "Let's get you two outside for a breath of fresh air." And as he ushered the girls outside of the tent, he turned back to look at Fred and George, who were still stewing in the putrid-smelling Bubble.
With a smile to his brothers, and a wink and wave to Daphne, he and the girls disappeared.
The Bubble around Fred and George finally evaporated, and the twins gasped for fresh, non-fart-smelling air.
Daphne gasped for air as well; she couldn't catch her breath, as hard as she was laughing.
"OH! O – oh – oh – ho – ho – ho – HAH!" Daphne couldn't stop her hysterics, and looking at both Fred and George's furious expressions.
"Ya – hah – ah!! Ya should've s-seen . . . oh my Godric! Charlie's the master, that's all I'm saying!" Daphne sniffed and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. She breathed out twice and regained her composure.
"You!" Fred pointed at her. "That wasn't . . . wasn't—"
"What?" Daphne tried to rearrange her face to the picture of innocence.
"Nice!"
"Yeah," George piped up. "We are your bosses, after all, Greengrass. Those are grounds for sacking you!"
Daphne cocked her eyebrow and grinned at the pair. "So me helping your brother thwart your shagging plans for the evening can get me tossed from your shop?" She crossed her arms and shook her head, continuing to smile at the oafs. "Oh, I clearly need to take lessons from Charlie on how to get you two all riled up!"
"Wha's goin' on here?"
The thundering footsteps behind the twins signaled the presence of Rubeus Hagrid. Daphne gulped. She had never been in the presence of this massive bulk of a half-breed, and despite Harry, Ron and Hermione vehemently defending the oaf, she couldn't help but be scared that he might trample her accidentally.
"Hagrid!" The twins greeted their friend roundly, forgetting their annoyance at their female situation — or lack thereof.
"Fred! George! You two stayin' outta trouble now, righ'?"
George scoffed. "Hagrid, really!"
"You'd think you'd know us better by now." Fred shook his head.
"Everyone always suspects the twins. The world could end, and all wands would be pointed right at us, George."
"Fred, it just goes to show how genius is either unappreciated or misjudged in its time."
"Oh, quit yer bellyachin'!" Hagrid said, and his beard twitched. "The both of yer's so melo-dramatic!"
"How are you doing, big guy?"
"Oh, well . . . I can' complain. Things 're getting' bad ou' there, though. I'm jus' tryin' to carry on, doin' wha' Dumbledore asked me ter do . . . an' take care of personal matters." The half-giant patted his heart, and Daphne felt an odd twinge in hers. She, however, remained quiet. Daphne didn't know Hagrid as well as the others did, and she really was quite unsure if she could just talk normally to him, or if she would need to speak slowly to him so he could keep up.
He was half-giant, after all.
"So, can you believe Skeeter, eh?" George nudged Hagrid with his elbow.
The gentle half-giant made a noise between a snort and a growl. "I mean no disrespect ter women anywhere, but tha' Skeeter's a righ' piece o' work. That unauthorized 'biography' of Dumbledore's a total crock! She's go' no right intrudin' inter matters she don't know nothin' about." Hagrid gave a great, indignant grunt. "Jus' a money-grubbin', dirty lyin' snake, that one — oh! Daphne Greengrass! Pardon the whole 'snake' thing . . . don' take it personally."
Daphne was a bit shocked at hearing the groundkeeper use so many multi-syllabic words, that she completely missed the supposed insult; also, she was rather surprised he was speaking to her. "Er, uh . . . that's all right," she mumbled.
Hagrid smiled at her. "I'm glad tha' Molly an' Arthur 'ave taken to care for yeh. Ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid leaned toward her, "I'd though' ter myself that yeh were gonna be trouble fer Harry and Ron and Hermione." Hagrid patted her shoulder with his huge paw and Daphne felt her knees buckle. She tried to smile, but the acute pain was making her wince. "Yer a good girl, Daphne. I think yer tryin' here, an' tha's all they want from yeh." Hagrid gave her a big smile and Daphne returned it — despite the fact that now her shoulder was terribly sore.
"Umm- . . . th-thanks."
Hagrid gave her a nod and turned to talk to the twins.
Daphne pondered for a few moments what had just happened. This had been the first official conversation that she had had with Rubeus Hagrid, and she had to admit that holding a conversation with him had been far different from what she thought it would be. Hagrid actually sounded rather intelligent . . . well, more intelligent than she had thought. Daphne simply hadn't realized that Hagrid was capable of real human emotion or thought; he had misjudged her as she had misjudged him, but his heart seemed to be all right—
"Knut for your thoughts?"
Daphne spun around and saw Ron smiling at her, and Hermione flushed with exertion from dancing.
"Daphne! Having a good time?" Hermione asked her.
"Yeah. This whole wedding stuff's wicked. I think I was wrong about your 'biggest' friend too."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Who? You mean Hagrid?"
Daphne nodded. "He seems, I dunno . . . pretty nice."
"Hagrid's the best!" Hermione exclaimed after she had just swallowed a big gulp of butterbeer. She let out a refreshed sigh. "Hagrid's heart is as big as he is."
Ron nodded. "You won't find a bigger — or better — bloke!"
Daphne's lip twitched.
"Hey. Have you seen Charlie?"
Daphne eyes narrowed and she gave Ron a mischievous smile. "You never told me about how utterly brilliant he is! Showed the twins something, that's for sure."
Ron turned to Hermione. "Uh-oh."
"What do you mean 'uh-oh'?"
"When Charlie comes back home for any period of time," Ron said to both Hermione and Daphne, "a war of sorts erupts between him and the twins. Mostly it involves pranks and the usual fighting and goofing off. Drives Mum bonkers." Ron snorted. "Also involves a surprising — not to mention disgusting — amount of bodily fluids and functions—"
Hermione and Daphne raised their hands simultaneously. "We don't want to know," Hermione said.
"So, what happened with them?" Ron asked Daphne. She recounted the story from just a few minutes ago, complete with hand gestures and intriguing sound effects. Ron and Hermione collapsed on top of each other in a fit of hysterics.
"Oh, yeah," Fred said as he and George turned toward them. "Laugh it up, you three. We know where you sleep and where you live—"
Ron patted Fred on the shoulder. "Mate, you have to admit that Charlie's got some style when it comes to birds. Just admit . . . compared to him, both of you together are out of your league."
Fred and George narrowed their eyes at their little brother; their expressions caused Ron to lean back a bit away from the oncoming reaction. "Oh, we're thinking up a nifty little Whiz-Bang extravaganza, telling the whole world that Charlie Weasley's got a pinky-sized plonker and sucked his thumb until he was twelve. All in fireworks!"
"We could also say he wore nappies until he was ten and he still cries every time Celestina Warbeck comes over the WWN," George offered.
"Perhaps that he has some mysterious green blotches all over his—"
Ron halted them with his hand. "I don't need details." He shook his head at Hermione and Daphne. "This is about as bad as it gets."
Fred shrugged. "It's all out of love for our older brother."
"Not to mention a deep-seated need for revenge and blood!" George added.
"Well, that goes without saying."
The music continued on throughout the night. Ron and Hermione danced off and on and came over to talk to Daphne. At one point, Ginny Weasley decided she needed a dance partner during one of the faster songs and she dragged Daphne onto the floor.
"Blimey! You were right . . . you've got absolutely no rhythm!" Ginny yelled. "And I thought you loved music!" Daphne glared at the younger girl.
Bill and Fleur waltzed over, with Bill gracelessly tripping on Fleur's dress. As dashing as he looked in his dress robes, Bill's face shocked Daphne. She hadn't noticed that the scars really had healed up nicely, and they gave Bill a certain heft and gravitas to his appearance. She wasn't sure if it was possible, but Bill looked even manlier than ever before. And Fleur was positively glowing.
"Oh, Daphne!" Fleur kissed both of her cheeks. "I am so 'appy zat you are 'ere and celebrating wiz us!"
"Cheers, Fleur. Dunno if I told ya yet, but you look beautiful."
"Merci. I 'ope everyone is 'aving fun."
Daphne looked around. Seeing the clusters of people dancing and hanging on and hugging each other, and chatting and eating around the tables, it was clear that everyone was indeed having a grand time.
Daphne leaned in to Fleur. "Also, you should tell Bill that he looks quite dishy in his wedding garb."
Fleur giggled. "I 'ave told 'im over and over." She leaned in and cupped Daphne's ear. "I can 'ardly stop looking at 'im!"
Daphne giggled.
And suddenly, everything stopped.
Bill, Fleur, Daphne and Ginny's eyes followed everyone else's to the middle of the room. Daphne recognized after a few moments that they were staring at a Patronus – a large, silver lynx.
The voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt rang out over the marquee—
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
A/N: I couldn't find a better ending for this chapter than Rowling's own words. Shacklebolt's line is from the U.S. version of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, page. 159.
According to a Google search, "futu-i" is Romanian for "fuck". I do hope that's accurate. If anybody knows otherwise, please let me know. Thanks.
