4. One Wedding
Hermione had found the library in the guesthouse. It wasn’t a good library to Hermione’s standards, but at least it kept her busy. She had looked for a good couple of hours and all that she had found were grooming and painting spells. She hadn’t found anything that would help them get out of the entrapment, but she did find a spell that would fix something else.
Hermione thought that they would have found a way out of the house by the time the sun had set, but she was wrong. It was already dark outside, and they were still right where they had begun. When she was about to give up, she noticed that the back cover of one of the books looked different from the others. It was one of Fleur’s old school books.
Excitedly, she grabbed the book and sat at the small desk that rested in front of a window. The excitement soon faded from her face when she opened the book.
“Of course…” she muttered. “It’s in French.”
Hermione jumped when she heard a knock coming from the window. A red-haired face was looking into the library; it was Ron.
“Hermione?” he wondered, from behind the glass.
“Ron!” called Hermione. “Would you be so kind and to tell me how long your brothers plan to keep us locked up in here?”
“I’m really sorry, Hermione,” said Ron genuinely. “You weren’t part of the plan.”
“What?” Hermione’s eyes widened.
“You were caught up in the middle!” said Ron with a grin.
Hermione was infuriated enough that she wanted to break the window and strangle Ron with her own bare hands.
“Hey!” called a voice far away from outside the house. “You’re not supposed to talk to the ladies!” It was either Fred or George.
“Gotta run!” Ron said, and he fled from the window.
“Don’t you dare!” Hermione threatened, but Ron was out of sight before she could finish the sentence. Her only chance of getting out had run away.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door of the study.
“Hermione, are you there?” asked Molly from behind the study door.
Hermione took a deep breath. She thought that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to tell Molly about her meeting with Ron because it would cause her to ask questions that Hermione didn’t have the patience to answer at the moment.
“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” she said. “I’m in here, but I don’t feel like talking right now. I need to be alone for a while.”
Molly decided to give Hermione some privacy and moved along. It was quite late, and they hadn’t eaten in a while, so she decided to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. When she opened the door of the kitchen, she found Louise sitting at the table.
“I was thinking of making some dinner,” informed Molly. Regardless of what kind of answer Louise was going to give her, Molly was still planning to make dinner; she had to at least feed Ginny and Hermione.
“Aren’t you going to judge me for what I’ve done, like everybody else?” asked Louise, a bit surprised that Molly hadn’t done it yet. She was expecting that Molly would make her feel like a bad mother and wife.
“It’s not my place to do such things,” said Molly, looking for the pans.
“I barely knew Jacques when we got married,” said Louise standing up. “My family was ‘aving financial problems, and Jacques was very rich. I was very lucky when he fell in love with me.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Molly, realizing that there was a lot more to Louise than what met the eye.
“I love Jacques, I do,” said Louise, staring at the blank wall. “But I never fell in love with him.”
“So you decided to ruin Fleur’s marriage because yours doesn’t work?” Molly had stopped looking for the pans and was now giving Louise her full attention.
“I don’t want ‘er to end up like I did,” Louise said. She was trying to keep the tears from coming out. “I just want ‘er to be ‘appy.”
Molly looked at Louise. “And what made you think she wasn’t?”
Louise fell silent. Fleur was happy with Bill. She just hadn’t noticed; her prejudices against the Weasleys had blinded her. Now she had ruined her daughter’s wedding.
“We ‘ave to do something,” said Louise in a thoughtful manner.
“About what?” asked Molly a bit puzzled.
“We ‘ave to find a way to fix Fleur’s dress,” said Louise. She fell silent when she noticed something on the kitchen table. “What’s zat?” she asked, looking at the vase of dead flowers that rested on the kitchen table. They were starting to bloom.
“Funny,” said Molly. “They’re snowdrops. Not the kind of flower I would put in a vase.”
“Such ‘orrible flowers,” said Louise. “’Ow did they get ‘ere?”
Suddenly, the broom closet door opened. A dizzy and confused Gabrielle walked out of it, and she stumbled into the kitchen holding her head.
“I ‘ad a strange dream,” she said. “I dreamed we were all locked up in ze guesthouse and zat Mom was cheating on Dad. Where are we? I don’t remember anyzing.”
Molly and Louise looked at each other with widened eyes. “Some zings are better left forgotten,” Louise said, holding her daughter in her arms.
The kitchen door swung open and revealed Hermione, who was holding a thick book in her hands.
“I found a way to fix Fleur’s dress,” she said, with a serious look on her face. “Would you help me?”
“Of course!” said Molly.
Hermione and Molly, who were followed by Louise, left the kitchen.
“What ‘appened to Fleur’s dress?” Gabrielle asked herself, still puzzled. She shuddered and followed the other women.
In the living room, Hermione had moved the couches to create an empty space. In the middle of the room laid the wedding dress; it was still ruined.
Hermione held her wand up high and chanted a spell the other women had never heard before. The dress floated off the floor and started spinning in midair. The stains faded away, the wet parts dried, and the places where it ripped started to repair themselves. Once the dress had finished its healing process, it flew right into Hermione’s arms.
“Magnifique!” admired Louise.
“Ginny?” wondered Molly.
At the top of the stairs was Ginny. She was wearing a sundress, had combed her hair, and was wearing strappy high-heeled sandals.
Gabrielle was about to protest that Ginny, of all people, was wearing one of her dresses without permission, but before she could say anything, Louise covered her mouth.
“That dress looks better on a red-‘ead,” said Louise.
“Thanks,” said Ginny, blushing slightly. She started to walk down the stairs, but having grown up with a house full of boys Ginny, had never worn high-heels before in her life. So she tripped and rolled down the stairs. When she finally reached the bottom, she stood up quickly.
“I’m okay!” she said, trying to find her balance.
“Gabby?” said Louise, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Why don’t you teach Ginny ‘ow to walk in ‘igh ‘eels while we go and tell Fleur ze wonderful news.”
Gabrielle looked in shock at her mother. Was she really supposed to pretend she was going to help Ginny after all that had happened? She was about to protest again when she caught her mother’s menacing glare.
“It’s not zat ‘ard,” Gabrielle said to Ginny, forcing a friendly smile on her face. Forcing smiles was something the Delacour women were very good at.
Fleur had locked herself up in one of the rooms upstairs. They could all rot in hell for all that she cared. She heard a knock on the door, but decided to ignore it.
“Fleur?” asked Louise from behind the door. “We know you’re zere.”
“Go away,” replied Fleur. “The wedding eez canceled. You ‘ave what you wanted.”
“We surely don’t want that,” said Molly in a motherly tone. “We just want you to be happy.”
Since they had no reply, Hermione decided to try a more direct approach. “We fixed your dress!”
Fleur opened the door almost instantly. Her face lit up when she saw her fixed dress; it looked more beautiful than ever. She held it between her arms and tears started to fill her eyes; this time they were tears of joy.
“You’re too pretty to be crying all the time,” said Molly, holding Fleur’s chin.
Fleur hugged her mother-in-law-to-be for the first time in a tight embrace. After that, she hugged her own mother.
“I give you and Bill my blessing,” said Louise.
“Zank you,” said Fleur.
From downstairs a loud click noise was heard. It sounded like a door had just been opened.
“The front door is open!” Ginny excitedly yelled from downstairs.
“We’re free!” yelled Gabrielle, also from downstairs.
The women didn’t lose any time. They ran outside of the guesthouse as fast as they could.
The fresh air of the countryside soon filled their lungs. From inside the house, they couldn’t notice what a lovely night it was. It was a full moon and the stars shined brightly; it was the kind of sparkle that one could only see in the country. They all stood outside appreciating the view and trying to catch their breaths. Hermione turned around and looked at the guesthouse.
“It looks much smaller from outside,” she said to the rest of the women.
Their problems had all looked so tiny from the outside. They couldn’t believe how crazy they all had acted.
“Congratulations!” yelled George. He was walking towards the ladies, and was followed closely by Fred. Before they could say anything else, they abruptly turned around and started to run for their life. Ginny and Gabrielle had started chasing them and were shooting jinxes at them.
“You’re going to pay for this!” yelled Ginny.
In time, Ginny and Gabrielle would learn to appreciate what the men did for them, but at that moment, they wanted revenge.
From the kitchen window, one could see that the snowdrops had fully blossomed and were peacefully resting on the table.
FIN
Six Flowers for a Wedding by Purplemage
Chapter Notes: A special thanks to Emily/Little_kitty for doing a fantastic job as a BETA in this fic and to all the people who have reviewed.