Author's Note: I thought this was going to be a normal-lengthen chapter… which, granted, for me, is about twenty pages long. I completely forgot about the chapter about the New Years party at the Woods'. And by "the" chapter, I mean the two chapters that resulted from the fifty-page chapter that was too long to post on Mugglenet at the time. So, this chapter and the next chapter are like that: it's one event and is supposed to be one chapter, but I can't make you all (or the moderator) read forty pages at once. Without further ado….
Chapter 16: Binding
"That's a nice picture of the castle," Ian said, looking over my shoulder at a picture of Hogwarts I was hanging to dry.
Most photographers at the Daily Prophet preferred to develop their pictures alone to prevent their colleagues from seeing the bad photographs they'd taken that week. The bad pictures were inevitable. News is hard to capture in a film clip. Imagine trying to capture a story in one frame of that clip—even if the subjects in the frame can move. Yet, even though all of us photographers knew that all of us took bad pictures, most of the people at the Prophet tried to hide it. It was a pride thing; I could understand that.
But Ian and I had no reason to hide our pictures from one another. He'd seen my first pictures. I'd helped him develop enough rolls of film to see some of his not-so-great shots. Truth is, we'd gotten used to each other's company and preferred to have someone to talk to in the dark room. It helped keep the rather monotonous task of developing film from getting boring. I looked forward to seeing Ian, which I only got to do while I developed my pictures each week.
"Thanks. My first picture for my Hogwarts beat. It'll look great next to the catching headline 'School Closes for Summer,'" I said sarcastically.
Ian laughed good-naturedly. "That's an important story."
"Happens every year. As if anyone needs the reminder. I highly doubt the professors or students are going to care to read about the end of term in our paper."
"Not every story has to be earth-shattering."
"Yeah, well…you have to say that. You cover sports."
"Ouch," Ian said, but he laughed. He was more than used to my abuses of the sports section, which I hardly ever really meant. "That coming from the Hogsmeade photographer turned wedding photographer."
"Oh, shut up," I said seriously, turning away from my string of drying photographs to give Ian a dirty look. It did no good. His back was turned and he was shuffling through photos to find the ones worthy of charms.
"Anyway," I added, turning back to my work, "I still have the London beat. Cuffe's letting me keep it over the summer. So he'll be paying me for something."
"Too bad. There's a lot of money in wedding photo—ow!"
"Oh, I didn't hit you that hard," I said, moving my hand away from the back of his head.
"Anything interesting happening at Hogwarts?" Ian asked, catching the hint that a change of subject was in his best interest.
"You mean, other than a student dying?"
Ian paused. "Oh, yeah."
"'Oh, yeah,'" I mimicked. "Guess that's all I should expect when his death was hardly a footnote in the paper."
"Well… other things kind of overshadowed the story…." Ian said slowly, knowing I wasn't going to like his comment, even if it was true.
"I'm not saying it should have been the front page headline. I'm saying his death should have had a headline."
"Yes," Ian agreed. He paused even longer than he just had. "Know him?"
"No," I said. I stopped hanging pictures. "Knew who he was, of course. Didn't know him personally."
I knew I'd sounded relieved. I was glad I hadn't known Cedric Diggory personally. I'd gone to the school on the last day of term to take pictures of the students leaving the castle to get into the thestral-drawn carriages. It was obvious that the school was reeling from the loss. I pitied those who had known Cedric. I knew how they felt… how they would feel for a long time. I wouldn't have willingly taken any of their places.
"I see," Ian said.
I knew what that meant. It meant that he knew there was more than I was saying. He knew I was glad that I hadn't known Cedric, and he knew why I was glad. A few months previously, I'd asked him why he never talked about the Weasleys, despite knowing Bill fairly well when they were younger. At first, he'd tried to get me to believe that he didn't want to bring up Percy, which made no sense; I complained about Percy's lack of communication periodically. It had gotten to be routine. I complained about it more for the sake of complaining than because I was actually still angry with Percy for burying himself in work. That's just the way Percy was. No reason to take it personally.
"Do you remember how I said I didn't remember you from Hogwarts?" Ian had asked, avoiding my gaze.
"Yes."
"That was true. But I do remember you being at that funeral. …Dan's funeral."
I had winced slightly. "Not my best moment."
Ian still didn't look me in the eyes, but he said, "I remember thinking you were taking it very bravely." A Gryffindor could say nothing kinder to another Gryffindor.
I never told Ian anything else about Dan and me. Ian never asked, but I think he suspected a lot. That brief conversation made us better friends. We'd clearly established what our conversations could not cover, which opened up a world of subjects that we could discuss.
I absently gazed at a picture that I'd taken of Hogwarts at dusk, debating whether or not to say what was on my mind. "Dan didn't get an article, either."
"I know," Ian said.
We worked in silence (except for Ian's charms) for a few minutes. I quickly worked myself out of the sadness I felt after thinking about how the people who were missing Cedric were feeling.
"I'm thinking of moving to Hogsmeade," I said. "It'll cut down on travel. Plus, I won't have to be in London very often when I lose the London beat."
"Would moving really be worth not having to Apparate to Hogsmeade every day?" Ian asked.
"No, but it would be worth being there if anything happens that is important."
Ian laughed quickly. "In Hogsmeade? How likely is that?"
I shrugged. All of my photos were now drying. I turned around so I could lean up against the center table and face Ian's back. "Depends on whether or not Dumbledore's telling the truth…."
Ian turned his head to the side. "You believe it?" He was clearly surprised.
"I don't know. While the kids were leaving the castle, I heard people talking about the speech Professor Dumbledore gave. Dumbledore definitely believes he's back."
"Doesn't mean it's true," Ian said.
"No." I shivered slightly, even though the Developing Potion brewing in the corner made the room quite warm. "I went to Hogsmeade's library after leaving the school. Looked at some papers from before You-Know-Who died. Or… disappeared, maybe." Another shudder. "I hope he's wrong."
"You-Know-Who doesn't seem to be back."
"No," I agreed. "Time will tell, I guess."
"I guess." Ian shifted his weight.
I was glad to see him give a sign of uneasiness. Ian was a Muggleborn, like me, so even though he would have been old enough, neither of us could remember You-Know-Who's first reign. Nevertheless, I was still highly unnerved by the stories Dumbledore was telling and was glad Ian seemed to be, too—I didn't want to feel cowardly.
"You ask Elliot to the wedding yet?" Ian asked, clearly trying to change the subject and choosing his current favorite topic because it was my least favorite thing to talk about.
"No," I said darkly. "I'm not going to. We haven't been dating that long—"
"A few months—"
"And he'd just be bored," I continued, ignoring the interruption. "I'll be taking pictures most of the time."
Ian laughed. I scowled.
"It wasn't my idea," I said.
"You still said yes."
"What was I supposed to say? 'No, Joan. I won't take pictures at Tara and Adam's wedding. In fact, I don't really even want to go'?"
"Of course not," Ian said. "You have to go."
"See?" I said.
"They should never have asked you to be the photographer. It's rude," Ian said, in what could have been interpreted as sympathy if one didn't know better.
Ian and I had been through this conversation before. It didn't matter. Ian found the situation highly amusing. I found it displeasing and had to vent frequently about the future situation Joan had set me up for.
"Truth is, I thought being the photographer would help me out," I admitted. "Having a job to do means I won't have to be as social."
Ian snickered. "Are you joking? You'll have to be around the bridal party all of the time. You'll get to be social with a camera in front of your face."
I groaned. "You could try to make it seem as if this wedding won't be hell for me."
"I'm sorry. Look… would you like me to come?"
I snorted. "You just want to witness everything, in all of its horridness, for yourself."
"No," Ian said, affronted.
I raised an eyebrow.
"OK, partially," Ian admitted, "but I could also help. Maybe make things less awkward. You could introduce me as a friend. You'd have to talk to me, which will give you an excuse not to talk to them."
"It's not that I don't want to talk to them. Just… under different circumstances."
"I'll gladly come," Ian offered once more.
"Thanks, but no thanks," I said politely. "You'd be just as bored as Elliot would be. And… I don't think there's a person on Earth I could bring to make this less awkward than it's going to be."
"It would help if you'd seen your friends in the past year."
"I know," I said. "I've written to all of them at least once. Late Christmas cards."
"All of them?" Ian asked, fully knowing the answer. He wasn't facing me and I could still see him grinning.
"Shut up," I muttered. "Almost all of them."
"Not Oliver," Ian said, unable to control his laughter anymore.
"Well… it's been a year. Maybe it won't be so bad," I said.
"Are you still angry with him?"
"A little," I admitted. "Maybe a little more than a little."
Ian started laughing even harder. "Oh, it's going to be bad. You still have time to get back in contact with him."
"I could," I said, nodding.
"You won't," Ian said, finally turning around to face me. "If I know you, you'll put it off as long as possible."
"Yes," I didn't try to deny his allegation.
"Well… look at it this way. It will be over in September."
"Lovely. A whole three months of dreading the wedding."
Ian smirked. "On the plus side, you've plenty of time to find a dress."
"You really are an ass," I said.
"Aren't all of your friends?" Ian asked smugly.
I laughed appreciatively. "Now that you mention it, yes."
Ian went back to his pictures, which were lying on one of the tables that line the walls of the dark room. "Wonder what that says about you—ow!" He spun around on his heel, clutching the back of his head. "I knowexactly what it says about you!"
I grinned. "Yes?"
He grasped for words for several seconds before giving up. "You're lucky I'm too nice to call you any of the words that just came to mind."
I nodded once. "I'm sure I am," I said with false sincerity.
"Sure you don't want me to come to that wedding?" Ian asked, preemptively putting his arms up in defense.
"Get back to your work," I said, laughing.
I spent all summer dreading the beginning of school. I was reasonably sure I was the only person (who wasn't a student or a professor) who felt so negatively about September first. Yes, the beginning of the school year meant that I would actually have something to take pictures of at Hogwarts other than the practically empty castle. (Despite its lack of activity, I was required to go to the school for a certain amount of time each week. I usually had tea with Hagrid. We avoided serious, or even half-serious, topics. Small talk was about all we could manage because of his negative feelings towards the Prophet. After I'd convinced him that half of the people at the paper hated Rita Skeeter, he became more welcoming and I enjoyed his cheerful company.) Conversely, the beginning of September also meant that I would lose my London beat, which I rather liked because it frequently got my pictures in the Daily Prophet, and even the Sunday Prophet. And, of course, the beginning of the term meant that the ominous wedding would be less than one month away.
Since I was dreading the beginning of that month so much, September quickly came. The only good to come of the month was that I was able to move out of my small flat in London to a small house in Hogsmeade. The house was not a lot bigger than the flat in London, but the kitchen and the living room were separated by a wall, which I was thankful for.
On the day of the wedding, I spent all morning preparing for the mid-afternoon ceremony. Three months of misgivings about the wedding had hardly motivated me to prepare for it. I scrambled around my house, gathering the equipment and film I would need. I wasn't left with much time to get ready myself. I skipped lunch in order to do something with my hair before Apparating to Tara's aunt's estate, where the wedding and reception were taking place. I had to Apparate twice to get all of my stuff there.
People working at the main, and quite large, house directed me to the back. I levitated my gear and walked around the side of the house. A lovely backyard (if an area so large can be called something so quaint) came into view. The trees were turning colors and falling to the ground. The grass was still bright green and well manicured. A pond with a guesthouse was on one side of the grounds, and a few gardens of varying types were scattered about. A vegetable garden was near a tool shed. A couple of flower gardens were near the house. There was even a small rock garden with a fake waterfall. Small fountains were placed deftly in rather bare areas. Despite the variety of things in the yard, it did not appear cluttered or distasteful, but rather holistic and well thought out.
The photographer in me immediately began focusing on the locations that would offer the best backgrounds for portraits. One of the best was a small, light-wooded gazebo near the center of the yard that unmistakably was where the ceremony would take place, so I headed in that direction.
The people moving around the space quickly came into focus. The wedding was still a few hours away, so no guests had arrived. Several people were working at magically setting up chairs and decorations. I took a couple of shots of the scene before coming into the area. It wasn't until I saw the small group of men in tuxedos goofing around that I realized how nervous I was about seeing everyone again. I felt a strong urge to turn around and run. Or to throw up.
Adam saw me first. "Laura!" he said, starting to walk down the aisle towards me, and the other three men followed.
I met them in the middle of the rather long aisle, holding the biggest smile I could manage and keeping my attention on Adam. I clutched my camera to keep my hands from shaking.
"You haven't met my little brother," Adam said, pulling forward a young man I didn't recognize. I took the opportunity to look at the whole group. Mark and Oliver were smiling politely. Mark nodded slightly when I'd caught his eye, and I nodded back.
"This is Evan," Adam said.
I shifted my camera over to my left hand so that I could shake Evan's extended hand. "Nice to meet you."
"And you."
"Evan just began at Cambridge," Adam said proudly.
"Cambridge?" I asked, impressed.
"It's a university—" Adam started.
"I know it's a university," I interrupted. "It's a very good university."
"Well, one of us had to get the brains," Adam said, laughing pleasantly.
"And one of us had to get the magic," Evan grinned. "Unfortunately, neither of us got both."
Adam punched him playfully.
I realized my smile was much less forced than it had been. I'd missed Adam's sense of humor and way of making people feel more at ease. It appeared as if both he and his brother had gotten those traits.
"I always wanted to go to Cambridge when I was young," I said honestly, directing my comment at Adam's slightly younger brother.
"It's great," Evan said.
"Enough about Evan," Adam said. "How are you?"
"I'm good," I said, taking my camera in both hands again.
"You never came to see me in Merchant. I was spectacular."
"You never wrote and told me when it was playing," I said.
"You never wrote and asked." There was a brief pause, which Adam broke with laughter. "I'm in a wizarding production of the same play now. Perhaps you can come to it."
"I did promise to see one show. Might as well get it over with," I joked. I looked around the gazebo. "Where are the girls?"
"Inside getting ready," Mark said, motioning to the main house.
"All right. Just let me take a few pictures of you all standing around before the wedding, and then I'll go say hello."
"OK," Adam said, shrugging carelessly. He was by far the least nervous groom I'd ever seen.
The men hardly moved, apart from shifting their weight from side to side. All of them watched me as I walked a few steps away and focused the camera. We stood there for a minute, me with the camera to my face, ready to take a picture, and them facing the camera, looking somewhere around my stomach with half-smiles on their faces, unsure whether they were supposed to be posing or not.
Finally, blushing, I took the camera down. "Just pretend I'm not here."
"Oh," Mark said. He turned to Oliver. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard for one us."
Oliver muttered something that made Mark laugh but that I couldn't make out. I quickly brought the camera back up to my eye again to hide my cheeks, which were getting even redder.
The group stopped looking at me and started having a fake conversation. I took a couple of quick pictures, thanked them, and headed for the house.
I held out hope that the reunion with the girls wouldn't be as bad. Once I finally tracked down the room someone told me they were getting ready in, I knocked lightly, praying one of Tara's relatives wouldn’t come out in a towel or anything equally, or more, embarrassing.
"Yes?" Tara called.
"I… er… it's Laura," I said loudly. "I came early to get set up and get a few shots before the ceremony." I sighed and leaned my head against the door.
The door didn't support my head for long. "Well, why didn't you just come in?" Joan asked, flinging open the door and dragging me into the room.
I was less hesitant to look at the whole group of women than men. Tara was sitting in front of a mirror in a bathrobe while Rose put the bride's hair up into an intricate weave of braids and curls. The process seemed to involve both a lot of magic and a lot of hairspray. The two girls smiled and waved into the mirror, looking at my reflection. Cedar had been looking out of a window and over the grounds, but now was facing me. She smiled kindly and I smiled back over Joan's shoulder, caught in her enthusiastic hug. No one had begun to dress yet.
"How are you?" Joan asked, letting go and pushing me away so she could take in my whole appearance. "You look nice."
I looked down at the purple dress I'd gotten for the event. It was conservative enough that I wouldn't have to worry about my movements while trying to get good shots.
"Thanks," I said. "And I'm fine."
Tara's dress was hanging on a mannequin in the corner of what appeared to be a spare bedroom. It was a quite lovely dress, with a simple sleeveless cut and a short train. The material was so rich looking that a fancier cut would have been over the top.
"Oh, that's quite lovely," I said, automatically bringing the camera up and focusing on the dress, carefully including the window that was lighting the dress in the shot. "That will turn out well."
Cedar laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen Laura take something so seriously. Well, perhaps except…." She coughed. "Joan tells us you're doing well at the Daily Prophet."
"Well enough," I said, thankful that Cedar had averted whatever had popped into her mind a moment previously.
"Stop moving," Rose scolded Tara, gaining everyone's attention.
"I'm not moving at all," Tara said, turning her head to look directly at Rose.
Rose took her head gently (I hope.) and made Tara face the mirror again. "You are moving. You're shaking like a leaf."
"I can't help it," Tara said. "There are going to be so many people. The Blotts wouldn't have it any other way."
"You'll be fine. After I finish, you'll look stunning," Rose said.
"She hardly needs your help for that," Joan said, walking behind the two so Tara could see her smiling reassuringly.
"Wouldn't be so bad if Adam was at all nervous. Or could understand why someone would be nervous," Tara said.
"Cold feet?" I mouthed to Cedar, walking over next to her.
Cedar shook her head. "No, just stage fright," she whispered.
I smiled. "Mind if I take some pictures of you all getting ready? A friend told me that those make some of the best wedding pictures."
"Go ahead," Tara said. "It was so nice of you to volunteer to be the photographer, Laura. It's hard choosing people to help that you believe you can trust, so Adam and I were quite relieved when Joan said you'd offered."
I looked at Joan quickly. Her facial expression didn't change a bit. I smiled and looked back at Tara quickly. "My pleasure." I started fiddling with the camera and noticed most of them watching. "This works much better if you just pretend I'm not here."
I spent the next hour with the girls, and I quickly lost that feeling of apprehension that had been hanging around all day. I took my time getting good shots of the girls preparing for the wedding, making sure everyone in each shot was dressed, while still managing to keep up with the conversation, which was relatively normal considering the situation. I was reminded of the later part of our Seventh Year, when all of us were in our dormitory together. I'd belonged then, and I felt as if I belonged with them at the time, despite being the only person present who was not a member of the bridal party.
I reluctantly reminded the girls that there wasn't much more time to take the formal wedding pictures. It had been nice spending time only with them. I wasn't looking forward to seeing all of the Seventh Years together. Yes, naturally, I had missed them. I missed sitting at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast. I missed the hour-long breaks on the evenings while we were taking N.E.W.T.s. I missed seeing my friends suffering through the same classes I was suffering through. Those were the people I'd been friends with; I hardly knew these people, but with the girls, I could forget that. It had been much more difficult to forget while I was with the boys.
Taking the formal pictures didn't go as unpleasantly as I'd expected. We couldn't use the gazebo for the pictures because guests were already filling the seats set up in front of it. However, there was a fountain near the house with trees behind it that made a lovely background for the portraits. The group followed my directions without question, which sped up the process. Only the pictures with the entire wedding party took any significant amount of time at all. Whenever I requested that only certain people be in a shot, the rest gladly left the frame.
After we finished, I left the cheerful group to finish preparing for the ceremony. I walked over to the gazebo to take pictures of the guests, whom I'd heard chattering the whole time I was in the yard. I was used to taking pictures of crowds of people (unlike the staged pictures I'd just finished), so I found it easy to get a few good shots of the people waiting.
The music that had been playing changed to more traditional wedding music, and the groom and groomsmen came out from behind the curtain hanging at the back of the gazebo. I'm still not sure how they got there without anyone noticing. The group walked to their assigned places as the crowd whispered excitedly before quieting down as the music grew louder. I didn't think much about the sudden appearance of Oliver. I was concentrating on my job, which I knew was about to get much more difficult. My goal was to get as many good pictures of the ceremony as possible. I took several pictures of the men waiting for the women in the bridal party to appear before my attention had to go back to the aisle.
It was a lovely ceremony, though I couldn't listen closely to what was being said during it. I noticed a few differences from normal Muggle wedding vows and what the judge from the Wizengamot said, but I was surprised that the ceremony was only slightly different from the Muggle weddings I'd been to. Upon further thought, I suppose it's not that strange that the highly ritualistic events are almost identical in the wizarding and Muggle worlds. The two groups are not as separate as they sometimes appear to be—at least, not among most of the wizarding world, which is largely made up of part-Muggle, part-wizarding families. I noticed a few younger Muggles in the crowd who were entranced by the magical parts of the ceremony. Even Evan, who surely had seen his witch mother do plenty of magic, was obviously impressed by bigger shows of magic than the everyday type he'd grown accustomed to.
It was strange taking pictures while making a conscious effort to stay as unnoticed as possible. While taking pictures for the Daily Prophet, I always tried to be unnoticed by the subjects of my photographs, but rarely cared whether anyone else noticed that I was taking pictures. At the wedding, I had to try to be unnoticed by the guests at the ceremony while getting close enough to the bridal party to get decent pictures. It was difficult, but not impossible, and I believe I did rather well.
The vows were exchanged, the couple was presented to the gathering of friends, family and acquaintances, and Adam kissed his bride. I hurried to the end of the aisle to take pictures of the pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen, and, of course, the bride and groom, as they walked down the aisle through the crowd. By now, I'd impressed on all of them that I did not want them to look at the camera and they obliged. Perhaps Oliver made a bit more of an effort than the rest….
The bridal party formed a reception line behind the seating area so that the guests could congratulate Adam and Tara as they walked from the gazebo to the main house. The bridal party stood at the beginning of the line, slowing down the guests to give people more time with Tara and Adam. I stood near the couple and took photographs of the guests greeting them. The mood was so festive, it was wearing away at my unease again, and I laughed along with everyone else near enough to hear Adam and Evan's jokes. After everyone had moved through the line, I quickly offered Adam and Tara my best wishes before following the crowd up to the main house, where they would welcome the bridal party to the reception.
Tara's family guided the rest of us into a very large room near the front of the mansion. The room had been set up nicely for the event. A long table at the front of the room had one row of chairs facing the many circular tables arranged around an open, circular area for dancing. The crowd was chattering happily and moving to form a circle around the edge of the open area. I followed suit, keeping my camera ready. When we'd all gotten into place, the circle had neither openings nor places where people stood two-deep. The adult wizards in the group took out their wands. Adam's a half-blood, so there were several Muggles in the group, but I noticed that they were not grouped together. I found it somewhat comforting to see no divisions between the two groups.
I was about to ask someone what was going on, but my friends arrived before I could. The crowd started cheering, and the circle broke to let them through. The bridal party walked in, arranged into the pairs in which they'd walked down the aisle after the vows. The four pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen walked to four points of an invisible square. They stood about halfway between the circle of guests and Adam and Tara, who walked to the middle of the circle, faced each other, and clasped hands. The cheering diminished into silence.
I was mesmerized by this tradition, which was so established that a group of a few hundred people could participate without any discussion. I hardly remembered that I had a job to do. I took a hurried picture of as much of the scene as I could bring into focus before the judge who had presided over the wedding stepped out of the circle (The guests moved to fill in his empty spot.) and walked over to Adam and Tara, who didn't acknowledge his presence, but continued to look at each other.
The judge suddenly raised his hands over his head.
The guests raised their wands. I heard the people near me say, "Creounum!" The crowd did not speak in unison, though it was obvious that everyone was performing the same spell.
Even through a camera lens, the sight took my breath away, and I took as many photographs as I could. Thin strands of light came out of every wand and orbited the couple and the judge before streaming above them and knotting together.
The woman on my right placed her hand on top of my camera and pushed down, forcing me to remove the camera from my eye. I looked over at her angrily.
"You, too," she whispered and smiled.
I understood her and smiled back, anger completely leaving me to be replaced with warmth. I took out my wand and repeated the spell I'd watched the others perform. "Creounum!"
My own thread of light shot out of my wand, encircled Adam and Tara, and knotted itself with the others' strands. I could feel a slight pulsing coming from the gathering of light.
The judge lowered his uplifted hands onto Tara and Adam's still clasped hands. "Two families become one family. Two groups of people become one community," the judge said loudly enough that everyone could hear. "This is the power of two people coming together.
"You are one."
The people around the circle flicked their wands, cutting the knot from their wands. I quickly mimicked their actions. The knot of light compressed and imploded into a brilliant flash of multi-hued light. Then the crowd cheered again, and Adam and Tara kissed.
Slow music began playing. Adam and Tara put a hand in each other's and their other hands in their proper positions and began dancing.
"Now you'd best start taking pictures again," the woman who'd told me to join the spell said kindly.
"Oh, yes," I said, following orders. I'd been caught off guard by the first dance happening so soon in the reception.
No one else joined in the dancing, which didn't last long. The guests congratulated the couple through applause and cheers at the end of the song and then began seating themselves around the small tables.
I rapidly started to feel very lost. Despite all of the unfamiliar traditions I'd seen, I hadn't felt overly anxious over them. No matter what had happened at the wedding, my role had been well defined by the camera in my hands. However, there was no reason to photograph people sitting for dinner. My role now was the same as everyone else's, only all of the guests had someone to sit with.
"Laura!"
I looked around for the source of the shout. Joan was looking at me, still in the empty area of the room. She motioned for me to come to her as she leisurely walked with the bridal party to the main, rectangular table. I quickly caught up with the slow-moving group.
"You'll join us?" Joan asked, smiling.
"Oh, I… I assumed I'd be sitting with everyone else," I said, feeling my face flush.
Tara turned her head to see the two of us walking behind her. "Of course not."
"But isn't it just the bridal party?"
Tara shook her head. "Close friends and family, too." She motioned towards our destination. "There's a spot for you if you'll have it."
"I… I'm fine with sitting with…." I stopped talking as I realized how rude I was being. It was very kind of her to include me. "Thank you."
Tara smiled and turned her attention back to her husband.
"The photographing going well?" Joan asked.
"Oh, yes, quite well," I said.
"Good!" We were reaching the table and Joan stopped walking. "Unfortunately, I believe we're sitting on opposite sides of the bride and groom. Enjoy your dinner."
"Thank you. You too," I said. I made my way to the opposite end of the table Joan was walking towards. I was still surprised by Tara's kindness at letting me sit with the group. The two of us never had been extremely close, though we never had been at odds with each other, either. I considered the possibility that I had downplayed how close living together for seven years made two people. Or perhaps Tara would have felt bad for leaving me out of the group, even though I hadn't been a part of the group for very long before we graduated. Or, more likely, I decided, Tara was just a very kind person, and she had anticipated that finding a seat likely would have been a very awkward situation for me.
I'd been expecting a seat near the end of the table. As I walked past place cards with other people's names on them, I started doubting that any of my three reckonings were correct, though perhaps a combination of the three was true. When I finally reached my seat, a quick glance at the place cards on either side of me revealed what was likely the real reason I had a seat at the main table: Joan had helped Tara with seating arrangements. My spot was right next to the bridal party. Right next to Oliver.
Author's Note: I know; I promised never to end a chapter in a cliffhanger. Remember, this wasn't supposed to be the end of the chapter. It's just the best place to cut the chapter in half. The next chapter is almost ready to go up (already!), so… it hardly counts as a cliffhanger. Right?
Coming up in the next installment of Do Be My Enemy for Friendship's Sake: Oliver and Laura, seated next to each other at the main table at Adam and Tara's wedding reception, have two choices. They can force themselves to have a conversation, or they can sit in uncomfortable silence. Which option do you think they're going to choose? (Which do you think I chose to write about…?)