The day before the wedding was filled with women running frantically from one end of the house to the other. Harry and Ron attempted to help by degnoming the gardens, but the gnomes kept wandering to the orchard, curious about the festivities that were obviously going to take place soon. This was not Harry’s or Ron’s fault, but in her stressed condition, Mrs. Weasley scolded them both for being careless and sent them out to their tent where they would not be in the way. So Harry and Ron spent a relatively carefree day in their tent.
Harry was extraordinarily grateful for the charms Mrs. Weasley had put on the tent, preventing girls from entering. This was not because he did not want Hermione and Ginny in their tent; it was Gabrielle he wanted to avoid. The dinner the night before had been fairly dull. Mr. and Mrs. Delacour spent the meal speaking in French to Fleur, presumably discussing wedding details. This made the Weasley family feel rather superfluous. They could add nothing to the discussion, and just sat listening as though they could understand the Delacours. Hermione informed Harry later, as they walked to bed, that she had been thrilled at the chance to try and brush up on the French she had learned on holiday years before. Unfortunately for Harry, Gabrielle did not want to join in on her family’s conversation.
Gabrielle was, indeed, only eleven years old, but Harry would have to be deaf, blind, and stupid not to notice that she was beautiful. She had every chance of growing up to be even more attractive than Fleur. Her beauty did not endear her to Harry, however, so she tried to make conversation with him whenever possible. Ron was still angry about Harry’s making fun of his name, and would not help Harry out when Gabrielle asked Harry for a third time to explain the rules of Quidditch. He knew it was time for bed when the plates were empty, everyone was looking very tired, and Gabrielle asked him to list every one of the seven hundred possible fouls in Quidditch.
The spell on the tent meant that this was one place Harry could go without having Gabrielle follow him. He was really quite sick of her. Ron had finally put down his prickly shield of indifference when it came to Gabrielle chasing Harry, and, though he found the crush to be a source of great hilarity, he helped Harry avoid Gabrielle whenever possible.
The two boys did not even see Ginny and Hermione all day except perhaps to watch them walking very quickly to a pre-determined destination with a very important task to complete. Harry and Ron passed the day playing games and avoiding the topic of dates for the wedding. It had been brought to their attention that they should have dates. Fred was bringing Angelina, and, thankfully, Brooke had accepted George’s proposal with enthusiasm. According to Fred, who had come round after dinner to greet Charlie (who was so tired from work that he only said a brief hello, then was straight off to bed), Brooke had always thought that George had some sort of ability that he wasn’t sharing with her. She said she loved him, and she would love to come to the wedding to meet his family. Charlie’s date was one of Fleur’s cousins. He had never met her, but Fleur had assured him that her cousin was very fond of adventurers, and being a dragon tamer definitely qualified. Harry and Ron didn’t want dates. Or rather, the dates they wanted were…unavailable. Though Harry thought Ron was daft not to ask Hermione. He had to walk with her down the aisle anyway. He was a groomsman and Hermione was a bridesmaid. Ginny was walking down on Charlie’s arm. Fred and George had declined invitations to be groomsmen as they didn’t want to leave Brooke and Angelina sitting with other people. Harry was going to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the family of the groom’s row. Harry didn’t bring up the fact that he thought Ron was dense not to ask Hermione. He was planning on tackling that issue tomorrow. If he did it now, Ron would have too much time to think about it.
They went to sleep directly after a small supper- the women were still setting up late into the night and didn’t have time to sit down for a large dinner. Tomorrow’s gigantic meal had taken first priority in the kitchen, and Harry and Ron just had sandwiches Mrs. Weasley half-heartedly conjured for them before returning to the sink to prepare potatoes for the next day. So, the boys went to bed, and both of them lay awake late that night until they heard Hermione and Ginny enter their tent next door. Only when both boys were assured that the girls were safely asleep did they, themselves, drift off as well.
The morning of the wedding dawned cloudy, and Harry’s immediate thought upon his arrival out of doors was that, if it rained, everything would be ruined. The girls were already up, and as Harry and Ron made their way into the kitchen, it became evident that Fleur was thinking along the same lines as Harry.
“Eef eet rains, eet will all be ruined!”
“Now, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, “It’s just a bit of cloud cover. It’ll clear up, you mark my words.”
She smiled so reassuringly that Harry actually believed that Mrs. Weasley might just be able to control the weather. Fleur seemed to be comforted, or at least she had other worries that took precedence over the possible rain. Hermione, Ginny, Fleur, Mrs. Delacour, and Gabrielle all sat with Fleur, fussing over her and offering her consoling words. Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged as if to say,
“I don’t get it either, mate.”
They both helped themselves to toast from a plate in the middle of the table, and tuned out the mixture of low voices all speaking at once from the woman’s corner. As Harry and Ron finished their breakfast, Mrs. Weasley glanced out the window behind the boys she checked her watch and jumped up, exclaiming,
“Oh, no! The guests are arriving and I’d completely forgotten them. Here comes quite a few. Now, off with you Fleur. Up to Ginny’s room, or the bridal suite, should I call it? You know you’re supposed to be up there getting ready.”
Harry was shocked; it was only ten o’clock in the morning and the wedding wasn‘t until four.
“Why are guests arriving now?” Harry asked to the room in general.
The women seemed too busy hustling Fleur from the room to answer so Charlie, who had just walked in, replied,
“Well, Harry, in wizarding weddings, the guests traditionally pitch in to help on the day of the wedding. That way things go a bit more smoothly, and everyone feels more a part of the event.”
“Oh,” said Harry, deep in thought. Charlie sat down and helped himself to toast. “So why does Fleur need all this time to get ready? Is that a tradition as well?”
“In the world of women, yes, it is most definitely traditional for them to take six hours to ready themselves. But I have it straight from George that that’s all women, not just witches,” Charlie laughed.
“Blimey! How can it possibly take them that long?” Ron’s eyes were wide with amazement.
“Because, Ron, women like to take time with their appearances. They, unlike you, care what people think of the way they look,” Ginny called as she passed through the kitchen on her way outside, “Oh and Mum wants you two to shuck the corn, there in the sink.”
“Can I use magic, then?” said Ron, looking excited.
Ginny sneered,
“If you can manage it. I’m off to greet the guests coming in. There’re some now.”
Ron and Harry got up and walked towards the sink.
“So, I’ll just sit and watch, shall I?” Harry inquired, “You’ve got your bases covered here.”
Ron nodded uncertainly and pointed his wand at the tower of corn in the sink. He levitated an ear and whispered,
“Skincornsa.”
The corn shot out of its husk with tremendous speed and power. Charlie had to duck as it whizzed past his head and hit the wall behind him. He emerged from under the table laughing and clutching a stitch in his side.
“Shut up,” Ron muttered as Harry tried very loyally not to join in Charlie’s laughter, “I’ll get these next ones.”
But Ron did not manage to shuck the corn and after twelve ears littered the kitchen floor, Charlie offered a bit of advice on his way out to the orchard,
“I’d do it by hand, Ron, or Mum’s going to throw a fit when she sees how much corn you’ve wasted.”
“Can’t you just do it? It’d be done in a flash,” Ron grumbled.
Charlie smiled and replied,
“Oh, no Ron. Why would I deny you two boys the right to shuck all that corn? Besides, it’ll keep you both out of the way for a while.” And he strolled out into the yard, stopping briefly to help Ginny direct the guests, which were slowly growing in number.
Ten minutes and seven ears of corn later, Hermione came down the stairs, looking flushed.
“Where’s Ginny? Mrs. Weasley wants me to help her with the guests. We’ve seen them from the window, and more and more are arriving.” Hermione directed her question at Harry; she was still not speaking to Ron.
“Out in the yard. They all seem to be Apparating at the same point.”
“Well, people should be arriving by Floo Powder soon. I believe they’ll pop in here, so I’ve just got to grab a copy of the guest list from Ginny, then I’m stationed here.”
She walked out the door, and Harry saw Ron watch her walk away. He decided not to bring up Hermione until she took off to get dressed. Harry was sure that would be soon as it was coming up on eleven, and they would need at least four hours to ready themselves. Or at least, in their minds, they needed four. Just then a guest popped out of the fire. It was a man of twenty one or two. He looked vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn’t place him. Ron did not notice anything familiar about the man because he turned back to the sink after a brief glance at him.
Harry saw that Ron was going to be of no help, and he saw Hermione starting back to the house from where she had left Ginny. She would take a minute or two to walk back, though, and Harry knew they couldn’t just leave the man standing there.
“Umm…hi. I’m Harry Potter. Hermione, that’s the girl coming up the way, just there, she’ll tell you where to go when she gets here.”
The man glanced at Harry’s scar and his mouth settled in a thin line. Harry thought that he looked rather hostile. The man brushed blond hair out of his grey eyes and offered Harry a hand,
“I’m William Smythe.”
This got Ron’s attention.
“Your William Smythe?” he blurted out.
“Yes,” said William, looking rather annoyed, as if he did not like to repeat himself.
Just then, Hermione walked through the door, and ran to greet Smythe.
“I’m so sorry. I had to deal with something outside. Can I have your name, please?” Hermione chattered pleasantly.
“This is William Smythe, Hermione. Surely you remember him. You’re great friends aren’t you?” Ron said triumphantly.
Hermione glared at Ron and Smythe looked at Hermione with what Harry could have sworn was disdain. Ron noticed the look too because he frowned at Smythe.
“I don’t believe we’ve ever met, Miss…”
“Granger,” Hermione filled in, “Don’t mind him Mr. Smythe, he’s recently suffered a traumatic blow to the head. No cure. Healers say nothing’s wrong, but we’re trying to get a second opinion.”
Ron was outraged. Harry saw him open his mouth angrily to retort, but at that moment, another witch and wizard popped into the fire, one after the other. After that Hermione was too busy even to notice if Ron had tried to continue the verbal sparring match.
Forty-five minutes later, all the corn was shucked, and Hermione was still sitting with her list, helping guests as they arrived. There were so many people mulling about the house that Harry was beginning to feel claustrophobic. People pressed in on him on all sides, all proclaiming that they believed in him. He was told by countless strangers that “You-Know-Who doesn’t realize he’s met his match in you, Harry Potter”. Harry was really quite sick of it, and he nodded towards the door, indicating to Ron that he wished to leave. They headed back to the tents, but Harry saw that there were almost more people there than there were in the house.
Harry spotted Lupin and Tonks, conjuring decorations and looking much healthier than Harry had last seen them. Harry gave a small wave, but they were both busy and could not respond. He would have plenty of time to speak with Lupin later. He and Ron went into the tent, and Harry felt the people clamoring to get in and speak with Harry. Harry had something he needed to say to Ron before he lost the nerve, but he had to do it, or the suffering he had been enduring the last few days would certainly become unbearable.
“Look, Ron, about Hermione. No!” he said forcefully as Ron began to cut him off, “Hear me out, okay? Listen, she loves you mate. Quite frankly, I can’t stand this throng of people outside long enough to give you a long, hard concrete list of evidence, but I am going to tell you to look past your feelings about Krum. That was so long ago, and after Lavender, I’d call you two more than even. This opportunity isn’t going to present itself again. The wedding is the perfect excuse to ask her to be your date. You don’t have to proclaim your love on the spot, but just asking her to go with you tonight would get the ball rolling, wouldn’t it? Now, I have to find something in my trunk. Think on what I said until I get back.”
Harry left Ron, sitting at the tiny table in their little kitchen of the tent. Ron hadn’t objected right out, and that was a good sign, Harry thought to himself as he rummaged in his trunk. His fingers touched the soft, almost fluid fabric he was searching for and he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. He returned to find Ron with a determined look on his face.
“Look, Ron, I can’t stand this crowd any longer, so while you’re considering this, could you go out there and clear me a path just to get out of the tent. I need a bit of peace if I’m going to keep my sanity in tact.”
Ron nodded, clearly thinking hard enough that he didn’t give the fact that hundreds of people were waiting outside to get a chance to speak to Harry a second thought. Ron pulled open the flap of the tent and walked out before Harry, who had disappeared under the cloak. Harry followed in his wake, and Ron turned round and went back to the tent. Surely that would look suspicious, but Harry didn’t care. He couldn’t breathe. Harry recognized no one in the crowd of people looking very disappointed that it was Ron who had emerged and not Harry. Upon closer scrutinization, however, he saw Smythe among the crowd, not appearing eager and excited as the others, but simply observational. Harry didn’t have time to think on this, however, because the crowd was slowly drawing itself back together and if he did not walk away. He would surely be caught up in it.
Thankfully, the door to the kitchen was open, and he passed unnoticed through the chattering crowds. Hermione was still sitting by the fireplace, checking guests off her list. Ginny walked right by Harry, and Harry barely moved in time; she’d almost touched his arm. Ginny whispered something into Hermione’s ear, and Hermione nodded. Harry could read her lips as she told Ginny that she’d wait for one more guest before she turned it over to someone else nearby to go get ready.
Harry passed by the fireplace just in time to see Krum emerge from the flames. Hermione seemed genuinely glad to see him, and they embraced. Harry wished very hard that Ron would not come in right now. He glanced towards the open door, but was happy to find that Ron was not standing there. He only hoped Hermione would go upstairs before Ron came in.
He heard Krum’s low voice say,
“Hermy-own-ninny, I haf missed you.”
“Oh, um, well-” Hermione stuttered. Harry knew that, though they corresponded regularly, Hermione hadn’t really missed Krum.
“Vould you come vith me for a moment. I vant to talk vith you.”
“Oh, no, I can’t I have to go and, um, get dressed.”
Satisfied, Harry walked away without hearing Krum’s reply. A very large witch with a flaming red hair, a relative on the Weasley side, no doubt, was coming his way, and if he didn’t walk forward, he knew she would run over him. Harry hurried into the drawing room, which was thankfully empty and sank into a chair next to the sofa, facing away form the door. He kept the cloak on in case anyone walked in, but he finally felt as though he could breathe. No sooner than he had relaxed, however, did the door open. Viktor came through the door, an obviously reluctant Hermione in his wake. Krum waited for her to walk further into the room, then firmly shut the door behind her. Harry knew he would never be able to move silently enough to leave the room unnoticed. Hermione would know it was him under the cloak, and he didn’t want her to think he was spying. He also didn’t really want Krum to know he had an Invisilbility Cloak.
“Please don’t let him sit on me, please,” thought Harry, and his request was granted as Krum led Hermione over to the sofa next to the chair.
“Viktor, this has to be a quick talk. Whatever it’s about. I’m supposed to be upstairs getting ready.”
“Then I vill be brief,” said Viktor solemnly, his eyebrows drawn together in the characteristic Krum scowl, “I still haf very strong feelings for you Hermy-own-ninny.”
“Viktor, you’re very nice,” said Hermione tentatively, “and I’m very flattered, but I just don’t feel that way about you.”
“Please reconsider,” Krum said, and Harry thought he heard a small creaking noise behind him. He did not turn to look, however. Watching this was like watching a train wreck. He had to keep his eyes on it, and at exactly the same time, he didn’t want to hear a word of it.
“Hermy-own-ninny, I told you years ago that I had never felt the same way about another girl. I never have since then. I can’t stop thinking of you, Hermy-own-ninny. I think I am in love vith you.”
The Wedding by DayDreamingMuggle
Chapter Notes: We finally get to the wedding day!! Hope you enjoy!