CHAPTER 65: CEREMONIES AND SECRETS
After some time, he and Daphné had to briefly leave their guests to visit the other banquet rooms reserved for lower-ranking guests. The rooms were less decorated, the dishes less shiny, the buffet more traditional and less refined, but again, the atmosphere was convivial, and guests immediately crowded around them to greet them more or less solemnly.
"Gabriel!" Nicolas exclaimed joyfully, approaching him and then pulling him into a hearty embrace, scandalizing some puritans. "Good God, what a crowd! I didn't think I'd get to see you today! And Daphné! Always a pleasure to see such a lovely young lady... Oh no, a lady now!"
"The pleasure is shared, my dear Nicolas," she said, blushing slightly at the attention forming around them. "I hope the meal suits you..."
"For sure! It's on another level than the academy's mess rations!" he immediately assured her.
"Will you lower your tone, fool!?" Juliette scolded him, giving him a slap on the shoulder as she passed by. "Everyone is watching us!"
"Come on, what's the problem? It's logical that everyone is watching us; Gabriel and Daphné are the married ones, I remind you," he said, massaging himself through his uniform.
Juliette just rolled her eyes before conventionally congratulating her friends, but their exchange quickly stopped in front of the crowd of people they still had to greet. Harry would have liked their conversation to last longer, or even for all four of them to go out into the park to walk together more peacefully. Still, it was currently impossible to be alone without someone following him everywhere trying to talk to him. He couldn't remember how many hands he had kissed or how many times he had bowed his head respectfully to greet a guest, but the pain he felt in his neck was indicative of the repetitive nature of this gesture.
It was only after another hour of greetings that he could finally approach his other mother and Remus, curiously standing apart in a corridor as they nervously discussed a subject they refrained from developing when they saw the newlyweds approaching.
"Harry," she greeted him with a smile as she took the liberty of hugging him. "I would have liked to tell you sooner, but congratulations on this marriage!"
"I would indeed have liked to have you by my side today rather than relegated to the last benches of the chapel amid other anonymous guests," he said with an obvious hint of regret. "I really regret that you couldn't have a better role on the most important day of my life..."
"Too many questions would have been raised about my presence if I had had the privilege of sitting in the midst of all these crowned heads," she told him calmly, with no resentment in her voice. "I didn't want to spoil your wedding with unnecessary questions, and I don't hold it against your mother for not insisting with the king to keep me by your side."
Harry slowly pulled away from her, still looking dismayed by this situation, but Lily just tenderly rearranged a few strands of his hair while continuing to smile.
"You look gorgeous, my dear," she said, looking him up and down. "And you too, Daphné," she added, turning her head to her while seizing her hand. "You make a wonderful couple."
"Thank you, Madame," Daphné replied, also offering a smile.
"Come on, we're not at this level of formality anymore for a few hours now; you can also call me mom now," teased her now mother-in-law with a wink.
Embarrassed, Daphné just managed a vague "yes, Mom" while blushing, much to the amusement of the adults present, and her husband comfortingly stroked her arm.
"I still think you should have been my witness for this great occasion, Remus," Harry said, turning to his godfather.
"We've had this conversation many times, Harry," he reminded him calmly. "As with your mother, too many questions would have been raised by my presence, and especially by this crucial role in your wedding. Just imagine for a moment that you would have chosen one of your academy friends for this role. The effect would have been the same as if it had been me in that place; A stranger present with the groom who has no notoriety among your mother's friends or the king's. There was more grandeur, more prestige even in the idea of being assisted by His Highness than by a man unknown to all, and it will undoubtedly be much more beneficial for you in the future among this man's contacts."
"For financial interests, certainly, but as for matters of the heart, I can assure you that I wouldn't have taken long to make a choice between you two if it had been allowed to me," his nephew affirmed with a weary voice.
"I don't doubt it," Remus confirmed, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, Harry."
Harry returned her smile, and despite the scars crossing his face, which a bit of makeup had slightly softened, his nephew suddenly felt like he had never seen his godfather as happy as in this moment. Calm, rested, and not at all preoccupied by his lycanthropy, Remus even seemed to have rejuvenated, and this observation greatly pleased Harry.
"What were you talking about before we arrived?" he then asked, shifting his attention back to his mother. "You both seemed concerned about a topic important enough to separate yourselves from the rest of the guests and converse in an isolated spot."
"Nothing important," Lily immediately assured him, although the tone of her voice seemed to assert the opposite. "We were thinking about the expenses incurred for this day and the mountain of work that would await the servants when all of this is over."
"Mom, you've never been able to lie, and I can confidently say that right now you're still doing it," her son replied calmly. "If it concerns you or someone in our family, I have the right to know what it is. And before you use that excuse, I can assure you that it won't spoil our celebration either."
Taken aback by Harry's perspicacity, but more so by the anticipation of the arguments she was about to put forward, Lily glanced at Remus for a moment, as if asking for permission to disclose what was bothering them. With a shrug from him, she let out a deep sigh before speaking again, looking less calm than before.
"I... I expected to know only the people directly related to you or Daphné for this wedding, and I had no illusions about their identity or the people who might accompany them," she began with a tense voice. "However, someone I absolutely did not expect was also there, and I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing..."
"You're talking about Professor Snape?" Daphné immediately inquired, surprising everyone. "Far be it from me to blame you, but during his introduction, I couldn't help but look in your direction to see if you were aware of his presence. I, too, couldn't keep from being quite surprised by his arrival, but evidently, he is indeed one of your mother's guests, Gabriel."
"I'm not really worried about it, but I was like you surprised," he conceded. "Mother knows what she's doing, and if she deemed it necessary for him to come, there probably wasn't any danger. But I would have liked to know, and I'll mention it to her as soon as the opportunity arises."
"He's a Death Eater," Remus darkly reminded them. "Who knows if he's not here to spy for Voldemort."
"And for what purpose?" Harry asked. "We don't even know if Voldemort has actually returned from the dead, and even if he has, it would take a miracle for him to link the Potter family in England to the De Savoie family in Lamballe."
"I don't believe in coincidences," Remus persisted. "Of all the places on this planet, we had to run into him today. It's too much of a calculated move to leave aside the possibility that he's here for something other than making an appearance on behalf of the Principe family. I didn't even know he had Italian origins..."
"Exactly, Remus, this wedding is, to my great regret, one of the most prestigious of the year. It's not surprising to see part of the European nobility attending," Lily reasoned.
Remus said nothing, but his nephew's argument did not seem to have any effect on him. He kept the same serious and skeptical look as at the beginning.
"In any case, he'll never see beyond Mom's disguise," Harry reminded him. "The spell cast on Mom's face will last as long as she can keep it in place, and I have no worries about her magical abilities. He'll never know it's her, let alone that her other children are here too."
"Forgive me for worrying about your well-being, the three of you," his godfather sighed. "All these stories about Voldemort, these rumors circulating among the werewolves I've met... it's been bothering me for a long time now."
Harry clearly couldn't blame him, so he simply nodded his head, looking at him with a grateful expression. Despite his detached and indifferent appearance, he too kept in mind the idea that perhaps Voldemort was indeed there. But Matthew was of the opinion that Matthew was his main target; only a possibility, however slim, could make them targets to approach in order to achieve his ultimate goal. But for that to happen, the Dark Lord would have to make the connection between a boy who had disappeared many years ago and a newlywed French prince.
"We should return to the banquet; the meal was not over," Daphné reminded him, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"You're right," he agreed with a smile. "Mom would kill us for not honoring our guests and our role as hosts, and you could even be the target of her wrath now that you're her daughter-in-law."
"Then we better hurry," she said immediately. "I don't want to be the target of one of those spells she's so fond of when it comes to punishing you."
Harry chuckled slightly, then, giving a final glance to his two other parents, he led his wife towards the main banquet hall where, as they expected, the crowd resumed even more vigorously than before. Barely a foot was set in the room when new courtiers came to see them to solicit a meeting, make a request, or simply be courteous, and it took them long minutes of battle to reach their place where the journey should have taken only a few seconds.
The afternoon unfolded in a succession of new dishes, encounters, and various discussions. The king seemed particularly attentive to ensuring that Harry met foreign dignitaries sympathetic to the royalist cause in the conflict between Louis XVIII and Napoleon. The approach seemed, at first glance, conventional, and the topics discussed were entirely ordinary. However, the undertones regarding the emperor's plans for his European neighbors and the state of his troops suggested to Harry that even the slightest piece of information, no matter how mundane, would quickly spread from mouth to mouth to other kings and emperors on the old continent. Therefore, he remained mostly vague, rightfully arguing that he was not sufficiently acquainted with the man governing this country to know in advance the ideas he might have in mind or even the troop movements he might make at the slightest alert on the borders.
A ball subsequently took place, though brief since the most important one was scheduled for the next day to conclude the week's festivities. Once again, Daphné and Harry were the main participants, having to inaugurate it. Initially together, Harry later danced with his mother, stepmother, the queen, and many other ladies, some of whom seemed literally on the verge of ecstasy at the chance to dance "with such a handsome young man." Daphné, too, had to endure without flinching the compliments of the men who served as her dance partners. The minuets and other joyful dances followed one another for so long that Harry's feet hurt, but he had to comply with this obligation with a smile and never show the slightest annoyance as long as someone came to ask him for another dance... And there were many.
The afternoon quickly turned into the evening, and a fireworks display was set off in the castle gardens, under the admiring gaze of the guests. For the most part, they contented themselves with observing it from the windows, while others chose to venture closer. For long minutes, loud and colorful explosions followed each other at a sustained pace amid the "Oohs" and "Aahs" of those lucky enough to see it. However, Harry paid as much attention to it as to the gleaming look of happiness on his wife's face, standing next to him. Like the child she still was at heart, she watched with excitement as the rockets rose into the air and exploded a few seconds later.
"I thought you would like this little attention," he whispered discreetly, smiling slightly. "Mother wanted a small illumination of the park with lanterns, but from the start, I had in mind a grand finale like this."
"It's wonderful," she said with delight. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble for me; it must have cost you a lot."
"Consider it my first big expense in your honor. No one has ever complained about my expenses in the past, so I have every right to treat myself to this little pleasure for once."
Daphné's smile widened even more as she tightened her grip on her husband's arm and turned her attention back to the fireworks. However, her good mood slowly began to fade as the evening continued, and it was not difficult for Harry to understand why. As the meal concluded, he noticed that more and more eyes turned towards them as a certain deadline approached. He suppressed the urge to sigh at the thought, but there was no need to try to escape it: the bedtime ceremony would soon begin. Already informed by his now stepmother, Daphné was not faring much better, and a exchanged glance between her and her husband confirmed that he too greatly apprehended this moment. Through this act, their union would be definitively anchored in the minds of everyone, and even though the process was becoming outdated, this custom still took place in some old families, and to his misfortune, Harry belonged to one of them.
Trying nevertheless to put on a brave face, Harry attempted to participate in the festivities and light-hearted conversations that took place around the table and in the room. He laughed at the remarks of some, intervened in the discussions of others, and gave his point of view on a debated topic. Throughout the meal, as the host and the reason for the presence of all these people in his castle, he was aware of the importance of the image he projected. Even if being the center of attention did not please him, everyone agreed at the end of it that he was an excellent host. It was less evident for his now wife, but her restrained silence and Olympian calm were more assimilated to a certain shyness that did not displease anyone. After all, as the most puritanical guests said, the wife was there above all to honor her husband, manage her home, and remain discreet when he had to illuminate everyone he met with his presence. The result of this evening approached this view greatly, according to them.
Suddenly, and like a signal, the king stood up, lightly tapping his glass with a spoon, managing to silence all present in a few seconds.
"Dear friends, it is now time for our charming newlyweds to retire to their apartments," he said solemnly.
The announcement brought smiles to some faces as Harry and Daphné, aware that a little speech would be greatly appreciated, also stood up to address them.
"Allow me, on behalf of my husband, to thank you for your presence on this special day for both of us," Daphné began in a surprisingly calm tone. "The positive reception you deigned to give our invitation is a pledge of good faith and sincerity regarding the feelings you bear for our family."
"Or the feelings they bear for the king," Harry thought to himself, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
"We will not forget this gesture when the time for gratitude comes, but for tonight, I invite you to enjoy a little longer the entertainments organized by our dear parents," she continued. "May you find occupation and any amusement you desire. Good evening, everyone."
Harry inwardly praised his wife's already-acquired talents as a hostess, but he couldn't help but notice that Daphné's grip on his hand suddenly loosened the moment she finished her impromptu speech. A smile crept onto his lips at the relaxed pressure, but it quickly disappeared as he had to accompany the king towards the exit.
Exhausted but mostly anxious, Harry allowed himself to be led one last time towards his quarters. A row of nobles with bowed heads accompanied him on his way as their group moved away from the festivities of the feast to venture through the castle. Not once did he glance in Daphné's direction, certain anyway that he would only see the same distress in her face, and especially not to disturb her further. He merely gave her a final kiss on the hand as a farewell before their group split in two, and the men followed him into the same room as this morning.
Again, Harry entered, but this time, it was about undressing him and bringing him his nightshirt. As before, the king took precedence over others in the final gesture, but some were honored to assist him in removing certain items of clothing. Blushing slightly in the faint glow of the candles in the room, Harry found himself almost naked again, chilled and intimidated by those somber faces in the darkness. He almost welcomed the brilliantly white shirt that Louis XVIII handed him.
Then, in perfect timing, Harry and Daphné returned at the same time to their room. A glance at her confirmed to the newlywed that his wife was just as bewildered and uncomfortable as he was about the turn of events. Both headed towards the bed, where they knelt for a final prayer before climbing in. A chaplain had previously blessed the bed by sprinkling holy water while people now jostled for available spots to get a better view of the princely couple slipping between the sheets. The king and Marie-Louise had accompanied the two lovebirds to their bed, and as his mother threw them an almost apologetic look, Louis XVIII couldn't help but give Harry a smile full of innuendo about what was going to happen that night in that room.
Each closed the two curtains on either side of the bed before closing the third with a swift motion, plunging them into complete darkness. However, this last curtain was immediately reopened, allowing the curious to lean slightly and watch with their sharp eyes the two young people who had just gone to bed. Intimidated by this, Harry looked in Daphné's direction to see how she was handling this ceremony, but he didn't have time to see anything other than vacant and resigned blue eyes before the curtain was closed a second time, this time a few seconds longer than before.
A third opening was made a few moments later, luckily the last of this long ceremonial. Harry could see through the multitude of faces those of his loved ones, equally intrigued by what was happening. His sister seemed herself perplexed by what was happening to her, and the slight gleam of fear in her eyes suggested that she might be imagining herself in the same situation a few years later, even if she had the fortune of being only a girl and moreover the youngest in her family. Her ceremony would at least have the merit of being much quieter than his.
The curtains were drawn for the third time, but unlike the other times, the footsteps belonged not to the curious eager to see this princely couple lying side by side in the same bed but to all the guests now heading towards the exit to finish the evening with a good drink. The tumult of conversations and a few giggles took time to disappear, but the noise was eventually masked by the closing of the double door, leaving them finally in total tranquility, alone in this immense room where one had to imagine throughout the castle that the marriage would finally be consummated.
This prospect, however, did not rejoice Harry, even though he had been prepared for this event for months. Strangely, he didn't feel ready to act so soon, and especially by obeying only the established protocol and not his own will. Daphné, to make matters worse, remained perfectly still beside him, seemingly ready to submit to him, and in the total darkness of their bed, Harry was unable to know if her face also reflected this apparent resignation that stood out from her as vividly as if he could touch her.
"Daphné, I..." "N-no, Gabriel," she interrupted in a small voice. "W-we have to do it..." "Not if you don't want to," he immediately cut in. "I've never forced you to do anything you didn't want to do, and certainly not for such a reason am I going to change my mind about it. Daphné, if you don't want to, if you don't feel ready to take this step yet, then I won't force you," he said gently, caressing her face. "I don't want to do anything that might cause embarrassment to my wife, especially if she is not consenting. You only have to say a word, a whisper, or even a gesture indicating your opinion on the matter, and I'll obey..."
"But your family?" she pleaded in the same timid and fearful voice. His tone, though internally painful, still made Harry smile, amused and pained at the same time by her voice of a frightened little girl who clearly needed reassurance and comfort.
"Mother will understand, or at least I hope so," he said, as if trying to convince himself. Sooner or later, we'll have to get on with it and conceive the long-awaited heir for my relatives, but we have plenty of time for that, and for my part, I don't think it's wise to become a parent at our age, especially when you're not yet graduated from Beauxbatons. Can you imagine attending classes with a child in your arms?"
"No, it's true," she said. "But we can't lie about such a serious matter..." "Why lie?" he inquired. "I know the question of the future of our family will be raised, and a male heir will have to see the light of day sooner or later, but given the current situation, it would be very difficult for me to fulfill my role as a father. While our mothers could perfectly assist you in the role you seem to be destined for, this child must be a wanted child, not one conceived out of compulsion and duty. As for the act itself..." Harry pretended to think, but the solution was already apparent to him:
"Mother once told me that the king boasted the day after his wedding of having honored his wife eight times during the night, but no one was fooled. I think we could use this trick to our advantage, although I would never claim such a number. After all, His Highness couldn't blame us for using such a stratagem since he himself has used it in the past."
"Turning his arguments to our advantage, you are very clever, my dear husband," Daphné chuckled, seeming much more relaxed. Then she approached him, snuggling against his chest, and placed a tender kiss on his lips to which he eagerly responded.
"Am I allowed to be forward with you, my dear?" she whispered.
"Oh, but you may, just try to be wise and kind to your husband, or else he might flee the marital bed in the face of such eagerness," he teased in the same playful tone.
Smiling, Daphné nestled even closer to him, and exchanging long kisses and caresses with Harry, she, like him, eventually fell asleep after a few minutes, never hearing, a few meters below, the guests raising their glasses to the ceiling and exclaiming aloud:
"To the newlyweds!"
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