Chapter Text
Godric’s Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 6th, 1999
“Ron! There you are!”
That was Harry’s voice. Ron Weasley turned and smiled at his best friend. “Yes?”
“I was looking for you!” Harry exclaimed as he joined Ron on the grass. “I checked every room in the house and in the tent!”
“I told you I was going to check the lawn,” Ron said, shaking his head.
“That was fifteen minutes ago! Why would you still be here?”
Because the Potter’s home, as well as the wizarding tent they had erected next to it, was a madhouse. Ron didn’t say that, though. “Who used to say that you couldn’t be too thorough when you were checking out a location?” he asked instead with a grin.
Harry rolled his eyes. “That was years ago! And we’re behind the strongest wards I’ve ever seen, outside Hogwarts! The odds of anyone being able to break through Bill’s wards, and Mum’s, and whatever spell Dumbledore cast on the house…” He shook his head.
Ron chuckled. “I wasn’t worried about anyone attacking us.” Who would be crazy enough to attack a wedding that Dumbledore and half the Ministry were attending?
“You weren’t?” Harry blinked.
Ron suppressed a sigh. His best friend wasn’t paranoid any more, but he still was more ‘cautious’ than most. “I was just checking the preparations here,” he explained. And getting some fresh air and quiet. That out here, the odds of getting dragged into helping with something he had no clue about were low was a welcome bonus.
“Ah.” Harry nodded. “So, is everything ready here? We’ve got an hour left to fix anything if it isn’t ready.”
“Everything looks fine,” Ron said. “Well, it looks like it is supposed to look.”
“The flower decorations weren’t my idea,” Harry said.
“I know.” Ron grinned.
“Laugh it up. I’m pretty sure Lavender took notes.”
Ron winced at the thought. The flowers were… exotic. And, as Lavender had explained to him, twice, the latest fad in Paris. But he still thought they looked ridiculous. What was wrong with faeries, anyway?
“Anyway,” Harry said, “I need you inside. The tent, that is. I can’t get into Hermione’s room - some odd rule for a wedding, or so I’ve been told - so I need you to get in and check if Crookshanks snuck inside.”
Ron blinked. “You lost Crookshanks?”
“I didn’t lose him,” Harry replied through clenched teeth. “He just… wandered off for a bit. And I can’t find him in the house.”
“He might have been gone mousing,” Ron suggested. The Potters’ backyard bordered a nice piece of woods, after all.
“I already checked that,” Harry said and raised his wand. “Accio Crookshanks!”
No cat came flying towards them. “Why’s the cat present, anyway?” Ron asked.
“Because Hedwig will be raining rose petals down on us, and he got jealous. At least Hermione claimed that. So, he gets to carry a basket of rose petals as well and go in front of her.”
“I thought Céline would serve as the flower girl?” Ron said.
“So did I,” Harry replied with a shrug. “But I’m not the one organising the wedding.”
That was true. And neither was Ron organising the wedding - that was, as far as he knew, handled by Lily and Mrs Granger. And Mum. He sighed. “So, you need Crookshanks.”
“Yes. Well, I just need to know if he’s in Hermione’s room. If he is, everything is fine.”
“And if he isn’t?”
Harry grimaced. “He has to be in there. It’s the only place left.”
“Alright, I’ll ask.”
“No!” Harry shook his head. “Just check, don’t ask. I don’t want the others to know that I’ve... that I don’t know where Crookshanks is.”
“You want me to ‘covertly’ check if Crookshanks is in Hermione’s room?”
Harry nodded with a smile.
Ron sighed again. “Alright, but you owe me for this, mate.”
“I’ll do the same for you at your wedding!”
Which wasn’t scheduled yet - hell, Ron had just proposed a month ago!
But Harry was, obviously, not in a state to handle this, so Ron nodded and walked over to the wizarding Tent in the Potter’s yard.
A scarred man was standing in front of it, and Ron sighed again. Moody might be the best Auror in the Ministry, but he was also so paranoid, he made Harry and Hermione at their worst, shortly after they had returned from the pirate island, look laid-back and relaxed.
And as expected, the artificial eye turned to face him before he had even gotten any closer than ten yards. “Weasley.”
“Yes.”
The man’s natural eye narrowed. “Or someone looking like him.”
“Yes.” Ron sighed. “Who would have had to pass through the wards on the place.”
The man scoffed. “I’ve got my eye on you.”
“Yes.” Ron nodded and stepped past him into the tent.
The entrance hall was big - not quite as big as the lobby of the hotel in which Ron and Lavender had stayed during their visit to France last year, but bigger than any tent he had seen before. The Potters hadn’t skimped on their guest quarters. Everyone had a suite, and there were a lot of guests. Not counting Hermione’s family members and friends who didn’t know about magic - they had to stay at the inn in the village, of course. But between Céline’s family and Fleur’s, and all the Potters’ relatives and friends who wouldn’t take the Floo Network back to their homes in Britain at the end of the day, they needed the space.
And Harry had checked every room here? Ron shook his head. Well, he had a task, and he would do his best to accomplish it.
*****
“Can I come in?”
That was Ron’s voice! Lavender Brown jumped up from her seat and dropped the Witch Weekly Wedding Special - she knew the issue by heart anyway.
Everyone was dressed, so… “Is Harry with you?”
“He doesn’t even dare to enter the tent.”
Good! “Come in, then!” Hermione yelled.
The door was opened, and Ron stepped inside with a shy smile.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione demanded, turning to stare at him, which caused her train to drag over the floor and almost snag on a side table.
“Uh… nothing,” Ron said. He was lying, though - Lavender, of course, could tell. “Harry just wanted a status update?” And he was looking around.
“You didn’t lose the rings, did you?” Hermione asked with narrowed eyes.
“What? No!” Ron pulled a small box out of his dress robes’ pocket. “They’re here!” He opened it to check, and Lavender saw that he was a little relieved. But if he wasn’t looking for the rings, what was he doing here?
“Oh, Crookshanks!” Ron beamed at the cat, which was lounging in a corner, still digesting the salmon fillet Hermione had fed him today - ‘to celebrate the occasion’. “I didn’t know you’re here.”
“Of course he’s here!” Hermione said at once. “We have to show him how to carry the basket.”
“Ah.” Ron nodded. “So, everything’s on schedule?”
Lavender winced as Hermione huffed. “No! The florist is still stuck at the checkpoint. Why they didn’t come an hour ahead of the time, I don’t know - we clearly told them that there’d be delays due to security! But did they listen? No! We should’ve gone with a muggle florist.”
“I thought the flowers were already mounted,” Ron replied.
“Yes, but those were the decoration. We’re talking about the bouquet and the rose petals!”
“You didn’t order them from the same florist?” Ron blinked.
Then he winced when Hermione glared at him. “No, we didn’t!” she spat. “And we still haven’t heard from the limousine your father is preparing.”
“Oh, yes. Dad might have lost track of time… I’ll go call him to check!” Ron started to make an exit.
Lavender waved at him and got a quick smile in return, but her boyfriend - her fiancé! - quickly disappeared out the door.
“Honestly!” Hermione huffed. “It’ll be a miracle if this doesn’t end in disaster!”
“I’ll be fine,” Lavender told her. “Sit down before you ruffle the robes.”
Grumbling, her best friend sat down again. “Nothing a spell won’t fix.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Lavender quoted her friend. “That’s what you said when the first florist had suggestions about the bouquet.”
“Yes!” Hermione glared at her for a moment, but Lavender kept smiling. Brides always were nervous before the wedding. She had no doubt that she would need a Calming Draught before her own. Of course, Hermione had refused the draught - she didn’t want to be ‘under the influence’ on her special day.
The door started to open, and Hermione jumped up again, wand pointed at the door. Lavender gasped - but Luna, who entered, only smiled. “We’re back!” she announced, ignoring the wand aimed at her.
Ginny, who followed Luna inside and closed the door, shook her head, though. “Really, Hermione! As if anyone would dare to attack the wedding of the year in Britain!”
“You can’t assume that. Humans do the stupidest things,” Hermione retorted as she stashed her wand in her dress robes again. “I half-expect Malfoy to try to crash the wedding.”
Everyone giggled at that. “Is he back in Britain, anyway?” Ginny asked as she sat down and pulled out the box of chocolates they had brought from Honeydukes.
“Not according to James,” Hermione said. “He’s still in New Orleans on his ‘grand tour’.”
“Perhaps he’s using the fact that he has no brains to get close to the local zombie population?” Luna speculated as she picked up two pieces from the box before handing it over to Hermione.
Hermione picked one, then another, and ate both with almost savage speed.
Lavender grabbed one for herself and watched Luna sit on Ginny’s lap and feed her with another one. She wanted to ask what a lack of brains had to do with zombies - nothing she remembered from Defence had mentioned a preference for brains - but decided against it. That was probably just Luna being Luna.
“Ah!” Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.
“See? I told you, chocolate makes everything better!” Luna beamed at her for a moment before feeding the next piece to Ginny.
“So… still no rose petals. I might have to conjure some to show Crookshanks what to do,” Hermione said.
“Are you sure he’ll understand?” Ginny asked.
“Of course! He’s the smartest cat there is!” Luna replied at once. “Right, Crookshanks? See how he doesn’t even glance at the chocolate? He knows it’s bad for him!”
And he also had stuffed himself on a pound of salmon - which Luna was aware of. Then again, she thought that no matter how full you were, there was always room in your stomach for sweets. And thinking of Sweets… “Leave some for Céline!”
Luna pouted but put the piece she had grabbed back into the box. “She isn’t even here yet!”
“But she will join us soon,” Lavender told her. “And she was already complaining that she couldn’t join us at the hen night, so we certainly can’t let her miss Honeyduke’s!”
Luna frowned again, then nodded. “That’s right. That would leave her with the worst impression of Britain, which could impact the Franco-British relationship. For the good of the Alliance, we have to sacrifice our chocolate!”
“I don’t think that the Alliance Against Slavery will suffer if we deprive Céline of chocolate,” Hermione remarked, “but it would be rude.”
“Don’t ignore the danger - wars have been started for the tiniest reasons. Why, once a war broke out over a fairy!” Luna retorted.
Lavender blinked. She shouldn’t ask, but she had to know. “When was that?”
“That was the second war between Magical Massachusetts and the Hamptons Hegemony, as it was known at the time,” Luna explained. “A thief stole the favourite fairy - and the Christmas tree it was decorating and the gifts - from the Master of Magical Massachusetts and then sought sanctuary in the Hegemony. They refused to extradite him which caused a war.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly like a war over a fairy. But it served to distract Hermione from the fact that the bouquet and petals still hadn’t been delivered. Lavender checked the time. If they didn’t arrive in another five minutes, she would check with the checkpoint.
And see if she could find Ron.
*****
Everything was fine. Crookshanks was shaking the basket in his mouth a bit too much, but that wasn’t a problem. He was the smartest cat she knew; he would do fine. And show up that evil owl. At least the bouquet and petals had finally arrived - and in the quantities and style that she had ordered them.
Hermione Granger took a deep breath. She was ready for this. Everyone was ready for this. They had been planning this for months. Lily and Mum knew what they were doing. As did Molly. This wasn’t their first wedding. A few minor problems were normal, and no reason to despair. She could trust them to handle it.
Even though Hermione really preferred to handle things herself. Or let Harry do it. But this was their wedding, and they couldn’t deal with everything. Not even with most things.
“Relax, Hermione,” Luna said. “Everything will be fine.”
Hermione snorted and recast her hairstyling charm. She knew that one perfectly - she had crafted it herself, after all. Just for this wedding. Though Witch Weekly had already asked to publish it afterwards. It was Hermione’s most significant sale since she started working as a spellcrafter. That her fame - and Harry’s - played a significant part in her getting this deal irked some, but a sale was a sale, as Lily had taught her.
That she was starting to become known more for being Harry the star Seeker’s girlfriend, soon to be wife, instead of for her own merits - despite the work she had done for the Alliance - was a little more vexing. But she was confident that this would change once she crafted more complex spells. She certainly had enough ideas! Things would work out. She and Harry had gone through much worse than that, after all.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Was that Lavender returning? “Yes?”
“’Ermione?”
Oh, “Come in, Céline!”
And Céline entered. The girl had grown in the three years since her ordeal, but she was still a little girl. Barely into Beauxbatons. Although she had a wand of her own now that she proudly carried. She had bounced back very well from her kidnapping. Of course, knowing that the Barbary Coast pirates had been decimated by the Alliance last year would have helped with that. It certainly had helped Hermione.
“’Ermione!” Céline moved to hug Hermione but stopped after a few steps. “Oh, pardon! The clothes…”
“It’s OK,” Hermione replied. “Did you sleep well?”
“Oui - yes!” Céline nodded twice, her head bobbing up and down and sending waves through her own quite elaborate hairstyle. Then she pouted. “But I get annoyed still for missing the party!”
Her English was much better than Hermione had expected, but there was still room left for improvement. And, as Hermione had thought, Céline was still mad about missing the hen night. “Would you like some chocolates?” Hermione asked, pointing at the box - and ignoring Luna’s sad sniffling. She was pretty sure that her friend was faking it.
Céline’s eyes lit up, and she all but rushed to the side table, grabbing some chocolates. A small bite later, she closed her eyes and made appreciative noises that could’ve come from Luna. “Délicieux!” She grabbed a few more pieces, then took a seat next to Hermione.
Meanwhile, Luna grabbed the box and upended it, but only two pieces of dark chocolate fell out, prompting another sad moan.
“Qu’est-ce qui ce passe?” Céline asked, looking at the witch. “Est-ce qu’elle a mal?”
“No,” Hermione told her. “She’s just greedy.”
“I’m not greedy! We just don’t have enough chocolate for everyone!”
“And who went to buy a box?” Ginny asked with a faint smirk.
Luna pouted at her. “I miscalculated.”
“Well, if you had bought muggle chocolate, you could’ve duplicated the pieces,” Hermione pointed out. They weren’t charmed against that, after all.
Luna froze for a moment. “But they aren’t as good as Honeydukes!”
“I wonder how you’re planning to survive in the Amazon,” Ginny told her. “They won’t sell Honeydukes there.”
“I know! But chocolate was discovered in the New World - they are bound to have the best chocolate there! We’ll boldly go and discover new magical delights!” Luna raised her chin and looked at the ceiling. Presumably.
“I thought you’d be looking for the Lost Golden Jaguar,” Hermione said.
“Yes,” Ginny replied. “This is just… logistics.”
“It’s a second objective! In case we don’t find the Lost Golden Jaguar.”
“Lost Gol-den Jaguar?” Céline asked.
“Ginny and Luna are planning an expedition to the Amazon basin to look for a legendary animal.” Last seen during the time of the Conquistadores, who had hunted the animals to extinction for their fur. At least that was the opinion of most Magizoologists. Luna and her father disagreed, of course. And Ginny was going along because it would be an adventure.
“Oh. C’est dangereux?”
“Not really,” Luna said with a smile.
“Yes,” Ginny said with a grin.
“Yes.” Hermione nodded.
Céline nodded as well in obvious approval. Well, she was French. More Gryffindor than most Gryffindors. Hermione still was convinced the only reason that the French delegation for the Triwizard Tournament had been paired with the Ravenclaws had been Dumbledore’s fear that they would pair up with the Gryffindors instead, if left to their own devices, and edge each other on to even worse antics than usual.
Another knock at the door. “Yes?”
“It’s me!” Lavender opened the door a moment later. She was freshly styled, both makeup and hairdo - yes, Hermione thought, definitely snogged Ron.
“The limousine has arrived at the inn,” her friend announced.
Hermione gasped and checked the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go and join her parents!
*****
“Hermione and the others have gone to the inn,” Ron told Harry Potter. “The limousine has arrived.”
Right. Half an hour to the ceremony. Harry looked around. The first guests were starting to arrive. The first guests who weren’t involved with helping out at the wedding, that was. Half an hour left. Everything looked fine. But looks could be deceiving. “What about the bouquet and the petals?”
“They were delivered already. Everything’s fine.”
Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron. Everything wasn’t fine. It couldn’t be.
“Wow, Harry, you’re shaking like a Patagonian Twitching Bush.”
Harry frowned and turned around. Rose was smirking at him. “Finally managed to get into your new robes?” he asked.
“No, I’m wearing transfigured pyjamas… Of course! And it wasn’t any trouble!” his little sister shot back. “It’s a wonder you managed to dress yourself. You look like you couldn’t hold a glass of water without spilling half of it.”
That wasn’t true! Harry glared at her. Not that she was impressed, of course.
“Being nervous is normal for the groom or the bride,” Ron said. “It’s their big day, after all.”
Rose huffed. “It’s just a wedding. And Mum and Dad are making sure everything works out.”
She had no idea! “Just wait until yours!” Harry snapped.
Rose scoffed in return. “I’m not planning to marry anyone any time soon!”
“Who would want to marry you, anyway?” She and Neville were currently on the outs again, Harry knew.
“Harry!”
He winced. That was Mum. He hadn’t noticed her sneaking up on them. Damn! Sirius would never let him forget that. And Moody…
“Apologise!”
“Sorry, Mum.”
“To Rose!”
“Sorry, Rose.”
“No, you aren’t!”
“Rose!”
Ron shook his head, snorting. Harry frowned at him. This wasn’t funny!
He looked at Mum. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied with a smile. “I’m just checking up on you. Also, a little warning: There are some fans gathered in the street.”
Harry groaned. “Can’t Dad send them away? Or curse them?”
“They’re wearing muggle clothes, and the wedding isn’t a secret,” Mum replied. “Unless they are carrying signs about Quidditch or otherwise threatening the Statute of Secrecy, there’s nothing we can do.”
Not legally, at least, and Harry didn’t really want to risk legal trouble on his wedding day. “I’m not famous amongst muggles,” he objected. “That should be enough to threaten the Statute! At least enough for Dad to arrest them all.”
“The muggles will think it’s just a joke,” Ron said. “Especially after we used that excuse for stag night.”
Harry winced while Mum shook her head, and Rose snickered. He didn’t want to be reminded of anything related to stag night.
“See, if you hadn’t signed up with Puddlemere but had taken a boring job at the Ministry, like Dad, you wouldn’t have to deal with fans,” Rose said. “Although if they knew how their star Seeker acted when he’s not flying, they wouldn’t be your fans any more.”
“Rose!”
“Sorry, Mum! It was just a joke.”
“Haha,” Harry said. She was such a brat! Wouldn’t she ever grow up?
“And it’s not true. Catching the Snitch seven times in a row in the league would have made you famous no matter what you did outside the pitch,” Ron said. “Puddlemere mainly won the cup because of you.”
Harry sighed. His friend was correct, of course. He was about to contradict it anyway, but then he spotted Neville coming towards him, followed by Mrs Longbottom.
“Hey, Harry! Ron. Lily.” Neville smiled at them while his gran exchanged greetings with Mum. “Hello, Rose.” His smile faltered a little.
“Hi, Neville!” Harry beamed at him. “Glad you could make it.”
“As if I would miss this!” Neville laughed.
Rose snorted. “Yeah, the wedding of the year.”
“Well, it is,” Neville said. “Have you seen the crowd outside?”
“A shameful display”, Mrs Longbottom commented with a deep frown.
“They’re just fans,” Ron said.
“Stupid fans,” Rose added.
Neville frowned. “Well, they’re just excited about the most successful Seeker in his first season in fifty-seven years.” He looked around.
“The others are with Hermione and will arrive with her, muggle style,” Rose snapped. “I’m going to check on Dad.” She scowled as she left.
Neville frowned for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “I wasn’t aware that Rose didn’t like muggle style weddings.”
Harry suppressed a sigh. They would get together again, as usual, but to be on the outs on his wedding day… It was as if Rose had planned this. Or was their most recent spat because of the wedding? Harry wanted to ask, but… Rose would hex him, wedding or not, if she found out.
“Ginny and Luna will be off to their first expedition soon,” Ron said, trying to change the subject.
Neville, predictably, only sighed in response as he looked towards the house while trying not to hide it.
And Harry had to press his lips together not to comment on how stupid Neville and Rose were being. Well, it wasn’t really his business - it was just annoying.
As annoying as the wizard approaching them.
“Mr Potter! Smile, please!”
Harry forced himself to smile. “Hello, Mr Smith.” He didn’t like the Prophet’s photographer - the man worked for Skeeter as well - but playing nice was the best way to avoid a negative article. Although the Prophet might think twice these days about slandering Harry or Hermione; even Skeeter wasn’t keen on drawing the ire of Quidditch fans. If Harry did well at the World Cup, he might even become untouchable. On the other hand, Skeeter would likely go after Hermione then, trying to stir up trouble.
Smith finished. “Have you seen Desmonda? Mrs Bartlemout?” he added with a look at Ron and Neville.
“Last I saw her, she was talking to my husband,” Mum told him.
“Right! I need a picture of the Head Auror as well! Thank you!”
And Smith was off.
“Does he know where your dad is?” Ron asked with a snort.
“Do I care?” Harry replied with a grin and a shrug.
He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes left. The Weasleys - those not already involved in the wedding preparations - would arrive any minute now.
And then… then… He sighed again. Everything would be fine. It had to be.
*****
She appeared in the room at the inn her parents had rented. Ginny was already there - she had insisted on going first - but Hermione Granger had followed her at once. She also had her wand out, just in case she had to obliviate a member of the inn’s staff, but they were alone with her parents. “Mum! Dad!”
“Hermione! You look so beautiful!” Mum gushed as if she hadn’t helped pick the dress Hermione was wearing. “The limousine arrived,” Mum went on. Then she flinched when Luna appeared over the bed with Céline. Both of them squealed with glee when they bounced on the mattress.
Hermione ignored their antics. “I know, Mum,” she told her mother. “That’s why we’re here.”
“We’re a bit early, though,” Luna chimed in as she slid off the bed. “But we can fly around the village while we wait, can we?”
“It’s a muggle limousine,” Hermione told her - even though her friend would be aware of that. “It can’t fly. But we can drive around, I guess.”
“Yes!” Luna cheered. “Is it the same car we used for hen night?”
“No.” That one needed a bit of cleaning and repairing, after all. Even after several cleaning charms and one Mending Charm. Luna loved cars - like many purebloods, as weird as it seemed - but she shouldn’t be allowed to drive. And chauffeurs should know better than to let her drive. Too bad the man wouldn’t be able to learn from the incident since he had forgotten all about it.
“Aw.” Luna pouted.
“I bet it’s even better!” Ginny said. “Right?”
“We rented the top of the line model for this,” Dad said. “Can’t let our relatives show us up, can we?” He grinned.
“Gabriel!” Mum shook her head. “It’s not a competition.”
“That’s not what your dear cousin Michael thinks,” Dad replied. “I had to listen to him bragging for hours at his son’s wedding, remember?”
“Yes, I do. You complained for hours afterwards, remember?” Mum smiled sweetly at Dad.
Hermione chuckled as her dad pouted.
Céline looked a little lost - she probably hadn’t understood everything. Hermione bent down to explain to her. “My father wants to impress my family.”
“Ah!” The little girl nodded eagerly. “Without magic?”
“Yes, without magic.” Hermione nodded. Céline had taken the absence of magic - most magic - at the wedding better than some of Harry’s extended family. Some of the complaints, really! As if you couldn’t have a wedding without a centaur’s blessing! Most wizarding weddings didn’t have that - the custom had gone out of style two hundred years ago, after a drunk wizard had insulted the centaur and had been shot with an arrow. At least the sources Hermione had found when she had been researching wedding customs claimed so.
“Alas!” Dad sighed theatrically. “A few curses would be just the thing for dear old uncle Albert.”
“Gabriel!”
“I’m just joking.”
“It’s not funny.”
Well, neither was great-uncle Albert. But you couldn’t choose your family. The worst was that her relatives would only see an old cottage, not the well-kept wizarding home. And while the Potters had been living here for centuries, which would usually impress Hermione’s relatives, Harry’s family had a rather… eccentric reputation amongst the muggles. And she knew that Albert wasn’t the only one who thought that Hermione was marrying someone unsuitable for her, just the most vocal one. It was almost ironic, considering how many wizards thought the same of Harry marrying her. An attitude that hadn’t improved with Harry’s growing fame as the best Seeker in Britain.
“So, car ride now?” Luna beamed at them.
“Yes,” Hermione said. “Let’s get… Crookshanks?” She looked around. “Crookshanks! Where did you go?”
Luna pointed to the bathroom. Hermione quickly - relatively quickly; her dress wasn’t really made for moving fast through a cramped hotel room - went to check. Crookshanks was in the bathroom - in the sink, actually. Drinking water. Oh, the poor thing - he must have been very thirsty! And hungry, too! “You should’ve told me!” she exclaimed, reaching into her hidden pocket to pull out a small can of tuna from her emergency supplies. It wasn’t quite cat food, but it would do. A quick Duplication Charm and a Cutting Charm later, Crookshanks was enthusiastically eating the tuna straight out of the can.
“You know he’ll expect more of the same now whenever he wants,” Mum told her. “You spoil him.”
“I don’t!” Hermione protested. Crookshanks deserved a treat for being so good. And another once he finished spreading petals on the ground.
Mum sighed and shook her head. Ginny was grinning, Dad was also sighing for some reason, Céline wanted to pet Crookshanks and was trying to squeeze past Hermione, and Luna was… staring out of the window. Presumably at the limousine.
Hermione went back to the centre of the room, where she had put down the basket with the rose petals. “Alright. Once Crookshanks has finished eating, we can take the limousine and drive around in the village until it’s time for the ceremony.”
“Yay!” Luna was at the door in a flash.
“Luna! Wait!”
“What?”
“We can’t just leave the room since the staff never saw us entering it,” Ginny explained.
“Ah.” Luna nodded. “So… we’ll have to modify their memories to make them remember us arriving by car and going up to the room here.”
“No,” Hermione objected. “We’ll apparate to the nearby corner and walk to the inn.”
“In your dress?” Luna frowned. “That’d look suspicious.”
“In my dress,” Hermione replied. “People won’t be suspicious - they’ll simply assume something went wrong with our schedule.”
“Are you sure?” Luna didn’t look as if she believed her.
“Yes,” Hermione replied. “It’s a big wedding; people will readily believe that we mixed up the cars or something and had to walk.” Especially her nosy cousin Melissa.
Well, Hermione smirked as she redid her hair and her dress with a flick of her wand, Melissa could think what she wanted. Hermione knew better, after all.
And she was marrying Harry today! Nothing could ruin this day for her!
*****
Where was Hermione? It was… well, it wasn’t yet time, but still! Harry Potter clenched his teeth as he tried not to fidget.
“Relax, mate,” Ron whispered next to him. “Hermione will arrive on time, not early.”
“I know,” Harry snapped back through clenched teeth. But he couldn’t help worrying. What if some deranged fan attacked her? Or pirates? Harry and Hermione were sort of symbols for the Alliance Against Slavery, after all. Of course, anyone attacking them would provoke a harsh reaction from the Alliance, so it would be counterproductive, but not everyone was rational. And what if some radical activists wanted to fake an attack to raise more support? There were countries in the New World where slavery was still legal, after all.
“Harry! Already at the altar? Can’t wait to finally tie the knot, huh?”
Harry turned. “Sirius!” His godfather had finally arrived! And with the likely reason for his late arrival. “Hello, Miss Browtuckle,” he added.
“Hello, Harry! Call me Mathilda.” The witch at Sirius’s side smiled widely at him.
Harry suppressed a grimace. As if he’d do that! Mum was watching, and she didn’t like Sirius’s girlfriend. Apparently, they had been at odds at Hogwarts. Some sort of rivals. Sirius claimed it was nothing, but Harry knew better - Mum wouldn’t be holding a grudge over nothing. It couldn’t be jealousy, he knew. Mathilda was a very attractive witch, especially in those French dress robes, but so was Fleur, and Mum didn’t have any problem with Fleur. Or Céline’s mother and sister.
Something must have happened at Hogwarts, but no one was talking about it, at least not to him. Not Mum, not Dad, Sirius claimed he didn’t know, Uncle Peter didn’t say anything at all, and Remus always changed the subject.
Well, it didn’t matter today. Today was his wedding day!
“And look who we dragged in!” Sirius went on. “Remus and Peter!”
Harry beamed at the two wizards approaching them. “You made it!”
“We wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Remus said.
“The Ottomans tried their worst but couldn’t stop them!” Sirius boasted, which earned him a sigh from Uncle Peter.
“I take responsibility for their late arrival,” Dumbledore - when had he arrived? - chimed in. “They were on an errand for me.”
So, they probably had been on a mission against the Ottomans. Harry nodded. He’d try to pry more details out from Remus later - Peter never let anything slip; not even to fellow members of the Alliance. Or Harry would do that if he weren’t marrying Hermione today. He smiled at the thought.
“Harry?”
“Oh, sorry.” Harry felt himself blush. “I was distracted.”
Dumbledore smiled. “Completely understandable, Harry. I haven’t known any man who wouldn’t be distracted in your place. Why, I remember your parents’ wedding as if it were yesterday…”
“Sirius! You finally made it?” And Dad was coming towards them. “We were expecting you much earlier!”
“James! I had to wait to make sure Remus and Peter would be on time!”
Harry snorted at the transparent lie. As did Dad.
Sirius frowned at them. “Well, we were just talking about your wedding, James.”
“What?” Dad glared at him.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I was just about to tell Harry how nervous you were at your wedding.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We should focus on Harry and Hermione’s wedding,” Dad said.
“I missed your wedding,” Mathilda pointed out. “I’d be happy to hear about it.”
Dumbledore beamed at her. “Why, Miss Browtuckle, dear James was so nervous, he accidentally vanished the rings when Sirius showed them to him to reassure him that he hadn’t lost them.”
“Nothing would have happened if you had actually trusted me to keep the rings safe,” Sirius cut in.
“You had lost them twice before!” Dad retorted.
“And I got them back!”
“Accidental magic? At your age?” Mathilda asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t accidental magic - James merely miscast a Vanishing Charm meant to clean a little dirt off the rings,” Dumbledore explained. “Instead, he vanished the rings and left the dirt. I transfigured the dirt into rings as a temporary replacement for the ceremony.”
Dad had closed his eyes, sighing. Remus and Uncle Peter were shaking their heads. Harry felt with them. His parents had exchanged rings that were transfigured dirt? This was… He shook his head.
“See? If you had used a proper cleaning charm, this wouldn’t have happened,” Sirius said, nodding to his own words.
“I tried one! But you managed to have them fall into Lily’s experimental potion!” Dad protested.
“Which shouldn’t have been at the wedding in the first place.”
“It wasn’t - you brought the wrong bowl!”
“They weren’t labelled.”
“They didn’t look at all alike. Did you think we were serving tar to the guests?”
“Well… I didn’t really know anything about muggle weddings…”
Harry snorted, as did Ron. And Dumbledore smiled and winked at them.
Then Hedwig landed on his shoulder, carrying a basket of petals in her beak, and the music changed from some hymn or other to ‘Here comes the bride’.
Everyone hurried to their seats, and Harry perked up.
Hermione had arrived!
*****
Hermione Granger could hear the music as the limousine took the last turn before the road leading to the Potters’ cottage. The musician was probably using an Amplification Charm. Not that the muggles would notice anything - they’d just wonder at the ‘discreet sound system’.
They drove past the small crowd of Quidditch fans waiting nearby. Hermione waved and smiled; most smiled and waved back. Those who disapproved of her relationship wouldn’t have shown up at her wedding, anyway. Trying to disturb a wedding? No one in the DMLE would prosecute anyone for hexing such gits. Especially if the Head Auror did it.
The limousine stopped in front of the Potter’s cottage. Taking a deep breath, she quickly moved her wand, casting a quick spell on her hair and another on her dress. Perfect. Dad had gotten out already. He walked around the car to open the door for her, then helped her climb out of the car without messing up her dress.
Hermione took a moment to marvel at the sight in front of her. The entire cottage was decorated with flowers and ribbons. The gate was topped with a big banner spelling ‘Wedding of Harry and Hermione’, and flowers - muggle flowers, in this case - formed an arch. Dad and Hermione entered, passing the wardline, then waited while Mum went ahead to take her seat, and Lavender, Ginny and Luna took up spots behind them. And Céline moved next to her.
She took another deep breath. This was it. Her wedding. To Harry.
“Relax,” Dad whispered.
She snorted. She had the right to be nervous. Then she felt something brush against her legs - Crookshanks! Carrying the basket. She smiled at her cat. He always knew what to do to calm her down!
Unlike the owl she spotted on the roof, looking down at her. Well, Hedwig would behave on this day. Harry had made that clear. Or Hermione would hex the bird.
The music changed again. ‘Here Comes the Bride’. Not a traditional wizarding song, but this wasn’t a traditional wizarding wedding. Hemione snorted again at the thought - she would’ve actually preferred a wizarding wedding since it treated both bride and groom equally, unlike a muggle wedding where her father was supposed to give her away. But her relatives would have asked questions about it. Not to forget that it would’ve also been seen as a slight against her parents by the wizarding public. And Hermione wouldn’t let anyone think that she didn’t respect her own heritage. Even if she disagreed with parts of it.
But she pushed those thoughts away. It was time. She let Dad lead her past the house to the backyard, where the ceremony would be held. Hedwig flew overhead and started dropping petals. Crookshanks took the lead, followed by Céline, both dropping petals as well.
She spotted Melissa staring at Crookshanks and suppressed a smirk. Her annoying cousin was obviously planning to use animals in her own wedding - should she ever find someone willing to marry her. Good luck with using muggle animals for that!
She kept from sneering at her cousin and simply smiled as they walked down the aisle. Harry looked great in his suit - cut like duelling robes, or close to it. If anyone from her family asked, this was the latest style in France. Or some new designer’s work. Next to him stood Ron, Neville and Dean, all dressed in a similar fashion.
And behind the altar stood the priest. He knew about magic, having been raised in the village and having officiated James and Lily’s wedding. Though theirs had been an even more muggle affair, as far as Hermione knew.
She forced herself to focus. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander. Melissa and the rest of her extended family would never let her forget it if she had a blackout in front of the altar.
She beamed at Harry as she reached the altar. He smiled back, and, for a moment, no one and nothing else mattered.
Then the music changed again, fading a little into a background melody, and the priest cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have gathered here to celebrate the union of Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger. A couple who has…”
Hermione tuned the man out when he started to recite a heavily edited retelling of her and Harry’s history together, starting at King’s Cross Station, and looked into Harry’s eyes as she remembered what had really happened. What they had lived through. Knockturn Alley. The Island. The wyvern. The pirates. And them falling in love. They had survived so much, done so much, and it had all started three years ago to this day.
How much had they changed from the two teenagers who had quarrelled in the shop in Knockturn Alley! Sometimes, Hermione still couldn’t believe it. But it was real. This was their wedding.
“...and so they have decided to spend their lives together as one family and have God bless their union,” the priest finished with a smile.
He wasn’t going to ask if anyone had any objection, of course. Having to curse a fool and then needing to obliviate half the guests would be a terrible way to start their marriage. Unless it involved hexing Malfoy.
“And so I ask you, Harry James Potter: Will you take Hermione Jean Granger to your wife, to love and protect no matter the danger, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Harry swallowed - Hermione saw his throat move - before he nodded twice. “I will.”
“And I ask you, Hermione Jean Granger, Will you take Harry James Potter to your husband, to love and protect no matter the danger, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Hermione ignored the butterflies in her stomach and firmly nodded. “I will.”
Ron took a step forward, presenting the rings. Simple, classic rings. Not yet enchanted - that would be a bad omen for the marriage. For some reason, Harry narrowed his eyes at the rings for a moment, but then he smiled, took hers and slipped it on her finger.
Hermione swallowed, then picked up his ring, slipping it on his finger.
The priest smiled at them. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Harry was leaning forward, tilting his head to the side. Hermione mirrored him.
And they kissed as husband and wife.
*****
The End.
*****