Chapter 32: Going to the Chapel

Author's Note: I'm back! Hope everyone had a good week, whether or not you were celebrating. I'm so excited to get these next few chapters out to you all! Happy reading :)

It's a long night. Mum and Dad are already in bed by the time I also disapparate home, so I creep up the stairs to my room and close the door with a quiet click so I don't wake them. I don't know what Petunia and Vernon will tell them about tonight. I don't know what I'll tell them about tonight. They adore Potter so much and I don't want to sully their opinion of him, but if he doesn't come to the wedding, they're going to have questions.

And that's just the question, isn't it, I think as I strip the dress off and kick it into the corner. A lot of good it did me tonight. Will Potter come to the wedding? Right now, I truly don't know.

I just...

I had such high hopes. For all of it. For Petunia to loosen up. For her to want me to be at the wedding. For Vernon to treat me like an actual person. For Potter... for James...

I don't know. I just thought maybe I meant enough to him now that I could count on him. I was starting to forget Potter and just see James. And I want him to be James so bad.

But I guess that's on me.

Serves me right for trusting Potter.

I know better.

I brush my teeth, wash my face, and braid my hair for bed. Maybe I cry a bit more while I do so.

By the time I crawl under my quilt, my heart is broken enough that I know for sure.

Potter is not coming with me to the wedding.

Wednesday 28 December

Dear Lily,

I'm not really sure what to say except that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was late. I'm sorry I got so mad. And I'm sorry I broke my promise to you.

There's not really an excuse for me messing up dinner so much, but know I only had your best interests in mind. I hated seeing them attack you. You don't deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve the world.

I understand if you don't want me at the wedding anymore.

Forgive me.

James

"And James really can't make it?" Mum calls from the other side of the bathroom door.

"No, Mum! I already told you, he had some family stuff come up!" I shout back, carefully winding my long red hair around the hot barrel of the curling iron. It's been forever since I've used a curling iron. They don't work at Hogwarts, and, in any case, I never wake up early enough to put this much effort into my hair. The way I'd pulled part of it back for dinner on Tuesday was already a lot for me, and Emma putting it into that bun updo for Slughorn's party was downright extravagant by my usual standards. Still, for a wedding, I figure I can stand to do a little extra. Even if she won't appreciate it. Even if James won't be there to see it.

I stamp the thought away. I made my decision. I can live with it.

Even if his letter did make me cry again and reconsider my decision not to have him come.

In the end, I didn't respond and I set the letter on fire with my wand right there in my room so that his 'Forgive me' would stop staring at me.

And, you know, so Mum wouldn't see.

Because in the end, no one told Mum a thing about dinner. When she'd ask me about it over cereal yesterday morning, there was a moment I considered telling her everything. But when I'd looked up from a spoonful of corn flakes, she'd said, "It was so fun to have you all at dinner! I'm glad you all got to spend more time together last night." I couldn't bring myself to crush her enthusiasm

And my pride wouldn't let me admit that I'd been wrong about James after all.

So, instead, I said, "Yes, it was nice. Thanks for taking us all out."

And then, later that afternoon, after the Potter family owl had delivered his letter, I mentioned to Mum that Potter had written me. But instead of telling her about his apology, I fabricated a last-minute family party he and his family had been invited to – lots of extended family, big deal, all that. Never mind I have no clue about Potter's extended family. Mum bought the story, though she was quite sad James wouldn't be able to make the wedding anymore.

"Oh, Lily, now you won't have a date! I'm so sorry James can't make it. You two really do make quite the pair," she said, setting down the pen she was using to grade her students' end-of-term essays and looking up at me.

"It's not like that, Mum," I said wearily.

She gave me a look.

"I'll call Tuney and let her know," I said, not wanting to talk about Potter anymore. "Don't stress about it."

I'd waited to make that call until Mum ran to the store for some carrots and lettuce to make a salad for dinner before Dad got home. My dread settled deeper and deeper into my stomach with every number I dialed.

"Hello?" Petunia said from the other end. I took a deep breath before answering.

"Hi, Tuney."

Silence on the other end.

"Before you hang up on me, I just wanted to let you know Potter's not coming to the wedding on Friday anymore. So you don't have to worry about that. And I've already told Mum."

"You sure you don't want to back out, too?" she said.

"You'll barely even notice I'm there," I promised tiredly.

"Good."

And then she did hang up.

At this point, I'm not even sure I want to go the wedding anymore. It probably would have been easier to go along with Petunia's wish that I skip it from the beginning.

But that would have crushed Mum – her two girls blatantly renouncing the relationship she had no control over losing when her sister died.

And also... I really didn't want to be the outsider in my family yet again. I just wanted to go to the wedding and feel like I belonged there, feel like I wasn't misfit, the problem, the root of contention.

I finish curling the last section of hair, then carefully gather up most of my curls into a high pony-tail and secure it with a deep-blue ribbon that matches my dress. I tousle it with my fingers a bit, and then I use my wand to set the whole thing. I need this hair to last all day. Magic – better than the best hairspray.

One last day. Then I can put this whole wedding mess behind me.

Petunia and Vernon are getting married in some old manor-turned reception hall in seven hours. From what Mum's told me, it's quite lovely, and they got a good price on it, but the trade-off is that it's way the heck in the middle of nowhere.

"Are we sure anyone's going to drive this far to see Petunia get married?" I say a couple hours later as we're bouncing down a dirt road. My and Mum's dresses sway from where they're hanging in the back of the car, carefully protected in garment bags. We're meeting Petunia and the rest of the wedding party at the venue several hours before the ceremony to help her get ready. I'm really glad magic is holding my hair together, because without it, my hair would certainly be a static-y, snarled mess after this car ride. We left the regularly paved roads a half hour ago and ever since, it's been all bumpy country roads, snow-dusted fields, and cow pastures rolling by the windows dotted by the occasional farmhouse or copse of trees, bare branches garnished with ice. We're lucky the snow earlier this week didn't turn to a storm and we only got a dusting, otherwise this drive would have been near impossible.

"Of course," Mum says, clutching the handle of her door. "Auntie Ruth would never miss a wedding! And I know Vernon invited several work buddies he promised would be there."

"They'd better," Dad says, his voice shuttering along with the car. "Otherwise, I'm demanding a refund on their meals."

The road turns to gravel and the view out the windows suddenly clutters with trees. The silver and white landscape switches to green, the snow unable to penetrate the dense growth. We take a final bend in the road and Dad says, "Ah, there we are."

"Wow," I say.

For a split second as the manor emerges fully into view, with its stone walls and many frosted windows sparkling in the winter sunshine, I think of Hogwarts and am struck with a feeling akin to homesickness. And I wish so badly that James was going to be here.

"What do you think?" Mum asks, twisting to look at me.

"It's incredible," I say.

Dad parks the car in the VIP parking area nearest the manor. I turn when I get out, taking in the full splendor of the place.

The manor sprawls in a small clearing set in the grove of trees we'd driven through. The grounds around it are landscaped with hedges lining the walkways and small evergreens around the exterior. It's smaller than it had initially appeared, but with the snow dusting everything like powdered sugar, it looks almost magical.

"Mum! You're here!" Petunia comes hurrying out the front door, wrapped in a silky peach robe, and throws her arms around Mum. "And Dad!"

"I can't believe this day is finally here!" Mum says.

"No crying yet, Mum," Petunia says. "Come inside, Lizzie and Diane are already here, and you can meet Vernon's sister."

Without a single glance at me, she drags my parents inside.

Right.

This wedding will be anything but magical.

As promised, I've stayed well out of Petunia's way so far. Mum pulled me upstairs to help Petunia get ready, but there were enough girls in there for me to hover unobtrusively on the edges, letting Petunia's girlfriends and Marge do most of the fawning. Vernon's sister Marge, looks remarkably like him: same blonde hair, same ruddy cheeks, same fleshy build. She even has a mustache like Vernon, though hers is much wispier and finer, and her demeanor is similarly unpleasant.

As soon as I can slip away, I wander the ballroom, where both the ceremony and reception will take place, marveling at the vaulted ceiling, polished dark wood floors, and stone arches around the many windows, and helped the catering crew set up chairs and tables in the dining room. When no one's looking, I use magic to set up a whole table and its eight chairs. If only Petunia wasn't so against magic, I could have single-handedly put together this whole wedding in an hour. The cake might have been tricky (I'm not the best with kitchen spells) but still. It would go so much faster. Overall, though, it's not a bad way to pass the time, and I don't have to interact with Petunia or Vernon, but then Mum finds me.

"Lily! The photographer will be here in ten minutes and you're not dressed! Go get your dress on! You can use Petunia's room."

Yeah, not likely. I won't risk Petunia's wrath by barging back into her space. I slip into the bathroom instead, taking my dress with me.

"Honey, you look beautiful!" Mum says, when I find her outside with the rest of the wedding party a few minutes later. The photographer is setting up a tripod and checking the sun, anxiously alternating between tightening all the little knobs and watching the daylight slipping away. "Petunia! Come see your sister!"

Petunia looks at us from where she's chatting with Lizzy and Diane, two of her three bridesmaids (Marge was the third). She wiggles her fingers at us in a half-hearted wave, but Mum persists, beckoning eagerly. With a sigh I can see even from several dozen feet away, she extracts herself from them to greet us.

"Petunia, you look beautiful," I say when she gets near enough to hear, taking in her wedding dress with its gauzy sleeves, fitted bodice, and high neck, her veil perched atop her short blonde curls.

"You too," she says stiffly.

"Thanks," I say. One of my many errands last week had included picking out a dress. I wanted to stay in Petunia's color scheme, but not match her bridesmaids, so my midnight-blue dress is a couple shades darker. It's long, like theirs, but made of velvet instead of chiffon, and the flutter sleeves end at my elbows. Already, only being outside for a few minutes, I'm envying Petunia with her sleeves to her wrists.

"Oh, my girls!" Mum says, throwing her arms around both of us, squeezing us together. "I love you!"

"Mum!" Petunia says, pushing away. "You're going to muss my hair!"

"I can magic it, if you want," I say before I can help myself, reaching for my wand in the special pocket I'd charmed into my dress just to be able to carry it around. After nearly seven years in the Wizarding world, I feel naked without it. "It'll -"

"Absolutely not," Petunia hisses, her eyes darting side to side to make sure no one's heard. "There will be none of that. Not at my wedding, you understand?"

"Right," I say. "Sorry."

"All right, happy couple!" the photographer shouts. "If you want pictures before it gets dark, we need to start now!"

It's another hour later when I make it back outside. The sun has dipped behind the trees, casting everything in an early twilight and turning the already chill air positively icy. The ceremony will start in ten minutes, but I need a break. Too many pictures, too much playing nice and polite with Vernon's family, too many fake smiles for Mum and Dad, too much staying away from Petunia who glared at me anytime I got near her. I bet the few photos the photographer shot of our family will turn out... interesting.

There are still a couple guests trickling in through the front door, so I head out back instead to be alone. The trees stretch long purple shadows across the patchy snow and the first few stars twinkle overhead. My feet find a footpath that winds into the trees, my cluttered head seeking the solitude the woodland will offer.

Just a few more hours, I remind myself. A few more hours, and this wedding will be over. The drama with Petunia will be over. Petunia and Vernon will never have to talk to me after today if they don't want to.

I mean, not like either of them have talked to me today anyway. Vernon has deliberately avoided me, striking up conversation with whoever's nearest when I walk into the room, and Petunia's words have been limited to the absolute necessary. Mum and Dad have been too busy greeting guests, hoping everything's goes smoothly, and reveling that the wedding is finally here to notice. I'm glad for that, but it's made for a lonely afternoon.

Again, I can't help wishing James was here, if only because it would have made for a more exciting time. I picture Vernon's face if he'd showed up for pictures and have to laugh. Vernon would be livid. I think James would have helped set up tables with me too, and made a game of who could accomplish the most wedding tasks with magic without anyone noticing. Mum would have been thrilled to see him, though then I'd have to endure more of her comments about how nice we looked together. I can only imagine how many more she'd drop with us both dressed in our wedding attire... and then I'm thinking about James dressed in a tux, and I have to think about something else, because my brain gets way too confused about him when my heart is very much appreciating that mental image.

I can barely see the manor behind me anymore, the footpath has taken me that far into the woods. It's really dark under the trees, and the air bites at my exposed arms as it rattles through the needles and bare boughs. I shiver. Suddenly the solitude doesn't feel so soothing. Time to start back. The wedding will be starting in just a couple minutes, and Petunia might actually murder me if I'm late.

Crack!

In an instant, I'm surrounded.

I freeze, have just a split second to take in the four cloaked and masked figures that appear out of thin air, before I hit the ground.

Four spells shoot over my head, ricocheting off the trees into the darkness, and then I run.