For a while Harry just sat there, stunned. So the opal necklace had belonged to Moaning Myrtle. He still couldn't get his head around the idea that the sulky, miserable ghost had been Ravenclaw's heir. He had talked to Myrtle about her death before--she had been more than happy to do so--but once she had confirmed his suspicions that the monster Slytherin's heir had been setting on students was a Basilisk, Harry had not bothered to find out any more.
Hagrid, of course, was still unaware that they believed the necklace to be a Horcrux, seeing as Harry had never even told him Voldemort's secret. Harry was still trying to keep it as closely guarded as possible; also, he did not want to worry Hagrid.
"Yeah," said Hagrid, shaking his shaggy head again. "Myrtle had her trinket nicked an’ came back ter try an' find it. She reckon’d Olive Hornby took it, see, since Olive was the firs' to see her after she died. Followed her roun’ fer months, tryin’ ter get it back. Never tol' anyone, she was a smart girl, Myrtle--knew if Olive ever foun’ out why she was followin’ her, she'd mos' likely hide that necklace even better, jus’ ter spite her. Never did like Olive, meself. But nah, Myrtle never did get it back. An' the Ministry got her ter stop hauntin’ Olive, in the end. Reckon I'm the only one as knows the real reason she had fer comin’ back as a ghost...o' course, it musta been Tom as really took it, but she wouldn't never b’lieve me if I told her tha’. She always admired Riddle, yeh know."
Ron let out a great snort of laughter, the thought of Myrtle liking the young Voldemort in that way evidently too much for him, but Harry's mind was elsewhere. Hagrid had never, to Harry's knowledge, actually seen the necklace that had cursed Katie Bell last year, so he wouldn't have recognised it as Myrtle's. Yet Harry knew how much Dumbledore had trusted Hagrid, and now he wondered if Dumbledore had ever told Hagrid what he had done with the necklace. But how to ask Hagrid without making him suspicious? Harry knew he had to follow up any possible clues he could find.
"Hagrid," he said reluctantly, but trying to keep his voice casual. Hagrid looked at him at once, concern in his beetle-black eyes.
"Somethin' the matter, Harry?"
Hagrid knew him far too well.
"Well, yes," Harry said slowly, wondering where to begin. He still didn't want Hagrid to know about the Horcruxes. Not because he didn't trust Hagrid--he knew the man would die before he deliberately gave away confidences--but he also knew, from experience, that Hagrid sometimes accidentally let things slip.
"Er, Hagrid? Can I ask you something, if you don't ask me why I want to know?"
Hagrid looked surprised and slightly hurt, but answered readily enough, "O' course yeh can, Harry."
"D'you knows what Dumbledore did with that necklace, the one that cursed Katie Bell?"
Harry could see the light dawn in Hagrid's eyes as he linked together the conversation about Myrtle and this question, but true to his word, he did not ask.
"Sorry, he never told me tha', Harry," Hagrid said apologetically, looking disappointed he couldn't help. "S'pose he musta destroyed it--doubt he woulda wanted a dangerous thing like that hangin' around."
Hope lifted in Harry's heart. If Dumbledore really had destroyed the necklace without realising what it was then that only left two more Horcruxes to find: the cup and the snake, Nagini. But Hermione doused his hopes with a look that said as clearly as words "We can't just take that as fact, Harry." She was right, too, he mused. Harry realised that he had been far too eager to believe her, and, disappointed that they would still have to find out exactly what had happened to the necklace, he rose.
"We'd better get back," he said. "Thanks, Hagrid--you've really helped."
"Well, tha's good," said Hagrid bemusedly. "Wha' exactly did I help with?"
Harry smiled and hugged the giant man around the waist. "Never mind. It's been great seeing you, anyway."
Ron and Hermione rose too, Hermione picking up all the books from the library and stuffing them into her bag.
"See you at the wedding, Hagrid!" she said brightly, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
"Yeah," said Hagrid, smiling. "Still can't b'lieve Bill's gonna be married...remember him when he was jus' a tiny firs' year here at Hogwarts. Be Charlie next then, hey?"
Ron grinned. "Maybe. He came back from Romania for the summer but we haven't seen much of him--he's very busy showing Flavia round London, apparently--taken enough time to show her round half of Europe..."
Hagrid chuckled as Harry asked curiously, "Who's Flavia?"
"This girl he brought back from Romania," Ron said, smirking.
"She's nice," added Hermione. "Better than Fleur, at any rate. You'll see her at the wedding."
Harry nodded. He was glad that people could still find love even in these dark times, and he thought wistfully of Ginny. If only they could be together...but he knew that any relationship with her would have to wait until after the war, if he even managed to make it through alive. A loud jingling distracted him from his dark thoughts, and he saw Hagrid pulling out a huge bunch of rusty keys of all shapes and sizes from a drawer.
"C'mon then," said Hagrid. "Gotta lock up after yeh've gone."
So they trooped out of the grounds, making their way to the front gates, which were flanked by winged boars. It was a longer distance from the castle than it looked, and it took them a good ten minutes to get there. They all gave Hagrid one last hug and then the giant swung the massive iron gates back into place with an almighty clang. "Well, see yeh in a couple o' days," he said, smiling, as he inserted the largest, knobbliest key of all into the keyhole. It turned with a horrible screeching sound, and the lock shuddered violently; without warning it exploded into white flames--Hermione gasped--and threw out such a blinding light Harry had to shut his eyes. Evidently the key had activated McGonagall's spells on the gates. As the flames didn't seem to be getting any less for the time being, Harry, Ron, and Hermione waved, squinting at the hulking outline of Hagrid through the dazzling glow of brightness, before turning together on the spot and Disapparating.
Before they knew it, the wedding day was upon them. That morning, Grimmauld Place was a beehive of activity; people kept colliding in doorways as they rushed around trying to get ready. As Harry changed into his French-style dressrobes, feeling stupider than ever, he could hear Ginny in the room above having an argument with Mrs Weasley--apparently she really didn't feel pale gold was her thing. Ron and Harry laughed as they felt a battle royal coming on between Mrs Weasley and her daughter.
But half an hour later, Ginny had lost and was standing grumpily in the front room wearing a very pretty, floaty dress with bad grace, though Harry thought she looked wonderful, swathed in the glimmering golden material, and he told her so. She snorted in reply, and Harry gave up, grinning.
"Come on, come on, we're going to be late at this rate!" Mrs Weasley came hurrying into the room, hastily sticking hairpins into the neat knot of hair at the back of her neck, which she had charmed to fall in curls. Harry had to work very hard to restrain himself from cracking up with laughter when he saw Fred, George, and Mr Weasley join them, all dressed in the same elegant, pale blue dressrobes. The twins looked especially weird out of their habitual dragonskin jackets, but Harry, looking down at his own attire, decided to keep his mouth shut. Hermione was the only one whose dressrobes suited her; they reminded Harry of the ones she had worn at the Yule Ball in their fourth year.
"Right, you lot, Marguerite sent a picture of their house--just look at it for a bit before you Disapparate, we don't want to lose any of you now, so make sure you know where you're going. Aim for that spot below the hill--it's rude to Apparate right outside someone's front door."
The mansion in the photo looked enormous, and very stylish, and Harry gazed at the white marble and twisting pillars in surprise, only having realised at this moment quite what a noble family Fleur came from--the mansion was nearly akin to a palace. Around him he felt everyone beginning to move, preparing to Apparate, and so he straightened up, focusing on the photograph and letting his desire to get there flow through him as he turned.
Hurtling through a narrow tunnel, his breath squeezed out of him--the journey was taking forever--Harry finally felt his feet slam into the ground and he staggered, suddenly finding that his knees were weak and he was feeling exhausted. Fred and George were already there and they supported him, looking worn out themselves, as the rest of the company joined them. Ron immediately flopped on to the ground, shading his face with his hand from the blazing sun.
"Hey, that's amazing!" said Ginny, letting go of her father's arm, which she had been clutching for the Side-Along Apparition. "I've never Apparated before!" She bounced happily over to Harry, who was wondering how on earth the girl could have so much energy after Apparating so far. He still felt like he had run a ten-mile race. But he had got his breath back now, and was starting to appreciate the beauty of the area around him. It was completely silent apart from the rustling of their robes, a deep, lonely silence, and as he breathed in the delicious air Harry felt as though nothing could ever really disturb the peace in this place. He savoured the sweet, spicy scent seeming to waft from the wild pink flowers twining around the many slender beeches dotting the landscape, and behind it Harry could almost taste the faint tang of the sea. Ginny stood beside him, and they drank in the glorious scenery together, watching a lone gull soar through the cloudless blue sky.
"Ron! Get up at once, you'll get grass-stains all over your dressrobes," said Mrs Weasley sharply, flapping her hands at him and waking Harry and Ginny from their reverie.
"Yeah, and that'll make them look really stupid," muttered Ron under his breath as he reluctantly dragged himself up from the soft grass, and glaring darkly at his silky blue robes.
They began to make their way up the hill towards the massive house, which stood alone on the hill, dominating the land around. It seemed to Harry even more magnificent than in the photo, its gleaming marble reflecting the golden sunlight as it towered above them, and reminded him almost of a Greek temple.
"Molly! Arthur! Is zat you?" A distant cry came from the house and Harry saw a figure sweep gracefully from the front door and begin to float--or that's what it looked like to Harry--towards them.
"Marguerite," said Mrs Weasley, smiling as the tall, elegant woman reached the group. Harry needed no introduction to guess this was Fleur's mother, for their faces were very similar--the same high cheekbones, finely chiselled nose and full mouth. The long blonde hair was also identical to Fleur's, shining eerily silver even in the bright sunlight.
"And you, of course, are 'Arry Potter!" Marguerite extended a gracious hand, and Harry shook it. But there was no more time for introductions for at that moment a stifled squeal sounded from above them and Harry, looking wildly towards the source of the noise, saw the petite form of a girl with clouds of wispy hair standing on the doorstep.
Harry remembered Gabrielle well from the encounter in the Hogwarts lake, but hadn't been quite prepared to see the little child he had rescued grown into such a beautiful young girl. As they reached the top of the hill and began to climb the steps to the front door, Harry got the strangest urge to leave Ginny and go over to Gabrielle...why was he holding Ginny's hand? He let go, formulating vague plans for impressing the beautiful girl with such fine, delicate features standing before him--perhaps he should tell her about the rest of the Triwizard Tournament, how he'd fought his way through the maze and past the dragon, to win the glittering Triwizard Cup...but as he opened his mouth to speak, another image came unbidden into his mind; that of the Cup gleaming on the stand in the closed darkness of the tall hedges, with the shadowed face of Cedric Diggory staring at him over the rim.
What was he thinking? He hadn't won the Tournament at all. It should have been Cedric's. Harry shook his head to clear it of the confused jumble of feelings towards Gabrielle and guilt at Cedric's death, at the same time as Ginny prodded him sharply in the side, reminding him exactly who he was supposed to be in love with. Harry's came back to earth with a jolt, and suddenly found he could look at Gabby without her charm working on him any more. Gabby was part-Veela, like Fleur, and part of the power of Veela is to be able to magically attract men-folk to them. Gabby had obviously realised that Harry had overcome her attempt to get him to fall in love with her for a barely perceptible scowl flickered across her pretty face before she replaced it with a forced smile.
"It is nice to meet you, 'Arry," she said, her voice deep and husky. Hermione chuckled quietly, and Harry felt himself go red--it was bad enough that Gabby was infatuated with him without her putting on voices she obviously considered attractive.
Her mother also seemed to notice, for she glanced at her daughter sharply before saying loudly, "Gabrielle, you are sick, non? You 'ave a bad throat?"
Gabby scowled more obviously this time, before replying in a normal voice, "Non, ma mère, my throat is very fine, thank you."
"Good! Well, why are we standing 'ere on ze doorstep? You all must come in..." and so they walked carefully one by one through the great arched door, into the welcome shade, and for a second all paused in the huge hall, taken aback by the enormity and beauty of the place. Ron and Ginny seemed especially in awe--their entire house, the Burrow, could have easily fitted into one of the many rooms branching off the hallway. The whole place was gleaming, shadows cast in soft purple and the many torches hung from stylish brackets throwing out a pale, shimmering light that made the cool white marble glow like the moon. They had little time to stop and stare, however, for when they walked in, people had immediately started popping their heads out of doors and descending the wide, sweeping staircase to meet them. There were a few people Harry knew--McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and of course, Hagrid, who beamed and waved at them, people being knocked out of his way as he waded through the hundreds of Fleur's relatives filling the hallway.
"All righ', Harry?" he said, patting genially him on the back with such force Harry staggered into Hermione, who caught him. After that Harry was kept busy for a while as he met Tonks' parents, who were still young and just as good-natured and cheerful as their daughter. In fact, Tonks' relations seemed to be everywhere--she had as large a family as Fleur, and they all wanted to shake Harry's hand. He was reminded irresistibly of the first time he had encountered other wizards, in the Leaky Cauldron inn six years ago--everyone in the pub had wanted to meet him then, too.
He spent a good half an hour being introduced to all of Fleur's many relatives, and met her father, Christophe, a tall man with--to Harry's surprise, for he had almost become accustomed to all the blond hair--dark brown curls and a long, droopy moustache.
"Ah, Harry Potter. It is a pleasure to meet you at last." Christophe pronounced his words correctly, though very slowly and with great care, as he nodded at Harry in greeting. His face looked as though it rarely smiled, though it wasn't grim--it was as though he just took everything extremely seriously. Harry, nodded back awkwardly, finding it difficult to look at Christophe directly. The man had very strange, vague eyes, which made Harry feel as though he wasn't really being looked at at all. He was quite relieved when Christophe wandered off to introduce himself to Ron and Hermione, and Harry was just shaking hands with yet another woman with long blonde hair--Fleur's cousin, or something--when he saw another familiar face emerge from the end of the hallway.
"Hi, Charlie! How are you?"
"Harry! Yeah, I'm great thanks--Bill asked me to be best man, you know," said Charlie, making his way over. "Harry, meet Flavia." A small woman stepped out from behind Charlie, shaking back her long dark locks over her shoulders as she moved forwards. She was little but vivacious, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks rosy as she parted smiling lips to say hello. She spoke such perfect English that Harry would never have guessed she was Romanian if he hadn't already been told.
"Charlie has told me much about you," Flavia smiled. "I have heard of all your brave deeds at school--you had a very exciting life at Hogwarts, eh?"
"Yeah, we did," said Harry, smiling back.
Flavia seemed easygoing and likeable--Ginny gave Harry a look which he knew meant something along the lines of, 'see--compare Fleur to her!" Well, thought Harry, they both seemed good women--he knew that Fleur was really quite warm sometimes, underneath her aloof exterior.
"Where are Bill and Fleur? And Tonks and Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked Charlie.
"Upstairs, getting ready," he answered. "Flavia was giving Tonks and Fleur a hand with their dresses. I don't think they're going to come down until the ceremony begins--that's the tradition, anyway."
A while later all the hundreds of guests were seated outside in the front garden supplied with tall glasses of iced pumpkin-juice, and odd, light French wafers that melted as soon as Harry bit into them. Mrs Weasley had wanted to help in the kitchen, but was assured by the entire Delacour family that there were more than enough house elves to do the jobs required.
"When is the actual wedding going to happen?" Harry muttered to Hermione after what felt like several hours of polite conversation between the adults, mostly comprising embarrassing stories about Bill and Fleur when they were children.
"This afternoon, I think," Hermione whispered back. "Fleur has to do all her make-up and fix her hair," she added, rolling her eyes, and Harry chuckled, glad that Ginny was not the sort to fuss with dresses and fancy hairdos.
"...and zen, if you will believe it, my Fleur stole Christophe's wand and tried to hex poor baby Gabby...but she was 'olding ze wand ze wrong way round and ze next thing we knew, Fleur had grown all zese long tentacles from her ears!"
The stories were mildly entertaining at first but after hearing several dozen of them, Harry found himself bored out of his mind and longing to get out of the garden chair and start doing something--he felt he was just wasting his time here. Beside him he saw Ron sink into his chair, eyes half closed. At last, after what seemed an age, Marguerite stood up, patting her dress carefully.
"My Fleur should be ready now--and of course, dear Bill and Remus and Nymphadora. Ze wedding should start very soon--if you would all like to make your way to ze back of ze house? Christophe, you show zem ze way, I will go and check on my daughter..." and she glided back inside as they rose. Christophe led the way around the huge house (it took a very long time) and when they rounded the last corner, Harry was momentarily lost for words. He didn't know what he had been expecting--white flowers maybe, and a priest, but certainly not this. The ground seemed to sparkle for miles, and looking down Harry realised the grass had been enchanted so that it glittered and shone. It was also covered in trails of bright streamers which were drifting down from the sky. Harry absentmindedly picked a pretty yellow one out of Ginny's hair as he gazed around, stunned.
"Wow," he said stupidly to Ron, finding his voice as he watched the biggest fountain he had ever seen spouting hundreds of jets of water in all colours of the rainbow into a basin the size of a dining-room. "What is that?"
"Oh, you've never been to a wizarding wedding before, have you?" said Ron. "I love these things," he added, motioning at the fountain. "It shoots out all different drinks, see--people can hire them for parties and stuff.”
Harry moved closer to the fountain, noticing all the crystal glasses balanced on the rim of the basin. He followed Ron's example and stuck one under a random jet of turquoise liquid--it tasted a bit like minty bubblegum. He and Ron had fun for a while trying out several different spouts, before turning their attention to the many other things surrounding them. Colourful flowers were spilling out from baskets suspended magically from thin air: their long swaying leaves trailed down and got tangled in the hair of anyone who walked under them.
"I'd better go to the doors," said Ginny to Harry. "I have to walk behind Bill and the rest of them when they come out, I'll see you later." Harry nodded and she walked away, her silky gold dress shining as it caught the sunlight.
People had begun milling around, talking and laughing, and loud, cheerful music had sprung up from nowhere--looking around Harry found its source--a large group of men and women with the Delacour trademark silver-blonde hair playing a variety of strange instruments Harry had never seen before. Flavia was standing by one of them, taking a three-horned, curly pipe from the hands of one of the players and examining it with great interest. But at that moment, the player hurriedly snatched it back and joined in with the sudden crescendo, a triumphant ta-ta-ta-TA! as the back doors were thrown open and four people stood framed in the doorway, Remus Lupin and Tonks, Bill and Fleur, the afternoon sun flooding their faces with light. The wedding ceremony had begun.
Mr and Mrs Weasley and Fleur's parents were standing either side of them, on the top of the flight of steps which led down to the garden, and now they stood back to let the two couples pass, Bill and Fleur leading the way, a beautiful tiara made of twisted gold crowning Fleur's mane of silvery hair. Harry chuckled as he saw Tonks, her hair still bright pink and wearing beautiful rosy dressrobes of some soft, clinging material to match, stumble down one step and Lupin stoop almost imperceptibly to steady her. He looked quite practised at it, thought Harry, grinning. Lupin was going to have a hard time coping with Tonks' clumsiness. But right now Lupin looked aglow with happiness, the lines of age almost wiped away as his face broke into a smile of pure joy, his eyes sparkling as he laughed. At that moment he looked ten years younger, and Harry felt a sudden affectionate surge of gladness that Lupin had at last found love, after so much sorrow and hardship. Harry saw Ginny and Gabby, their matching gold dresses rippling like water in the slight breeze, join the small procession and felt his heart give an odd leap in his chest. Ginny may have hated her dress but Harry thought she looked beautiful, with several delicate yellow flowers woven into her hair, which was shining deep auburn in the glory of the sun.
Everyone had shuffled around, to clear a pathway that had been formed along the garden and along this path the two couples sailed hand-in-hand, making their way to a large circle etched onto the shimmering grass. Harry looked at it curiously. It seemed a perfectly ordinary circle, made of flattened grass, but when the brides and grooms stepped onto it, white fire suddenly streamed from the edges, forming a blazing rope which danced around them, burning fiercely even in the bright daylight. The music spiralled to what was almost a song, a declaration of joy and unity and love.
At that moment Mrs Weasley and Marguerite Delacour spoke together, in rather trembly voices which had been magically amplified so they sounded above the music, "Bill, Fleur, raise your wands." Fleur tossed back her long hair and held up her arm strongly and proudly. Bill's scarred face cracked into a loving smile as he looked at Fleur and lifted his wand too.
"Remus, Tonks, raise your wands," said Mr Weasley and Christophe, and the couple did so easily and smoothly, gazing into each other's eyes.
Then all the parents spoke together, quietly. "Do you vow to take each other as husband and wife?"
As one, four voices replied, "We vow."
And with one movement Lupin and Tonks, Bill and Fleur, brought their wands forward to touch their partners’, and as the tips met, white light instantly exploded from all the wands, shattering the air around them and encasing each couple in a shining orb. Wands still raised and joined, thin threads of light binding the wands together in twisting coils, the newly-weds moved towards each other and kissed. Mrs Weasley was crying openly onto Marguerite's shoulder, and beside Harry, happy tears were also running down Hermione's cheeks. Harry was overwhelmed with the flood of feelings which surged through him--joy, and goodwill, and true gladness.
Then BANG! Harry jumped, startled, as without warning the globes burst and for a second the brides and grooms seemed to be clothed in robes of white fire, which swirled about them like water. These shimmered and faded, and the next moment bright rings were sparkling on all their fingers. The couples broke away from the kisses and lowered their wands. The next few minutes were a confused rush of embraces and tears and laughter, and Harry moved forward in his turn to congratulate the two new wives and husbands, all of whom seemed aflame with pure happiness.
"Soon I'll be an old married wife, eh, Harry?" grinned Tonks, winking at Harry as she nestled into Lupin's shoulder, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks lit with the flush of love. Lupin ruffled her pink hair affectionately.
"I doubt you'll ever grow old, Tonks," Harry returned, and they all joined in the good-natured teasing which followed.
"So what'cha going to call yourself now then, Tonks?" said Ron interestedly. "Since your name should be Nymphadora Lupin now." Tonks' face screwed up thoughtfully as she contemplated her new name.
"I like the Lupin bit," she said, sliding her arm around Lupin's waist and smiling up at him. "But I don't think I should use it, not till they get rid of that stupid law anyway, since the Ministry's still after you, Remus. Or they might just work out I know where you are!"
"You think?" said Lupin, in mock seriousness, and they all chuckled.
"How about you just add Lupin to the end of your name, like Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin?" said Hermione practically. "Then you'd still have Tonks in your name."
"Well, I might just make it Nymphadora Lupin and everyone can still call me Tonks," said Tonks, shrugging. "It's easier. And I can just not tell anyone at the Ministry about the change. No one needs to know. Not yet, anyway."
They were interrupted by a loud chiming, and looked around to see Charlie standing on the fountain's edge, tapping one of the crystal glasses with his wand to get everyone's attention.
"Afternoon, everybody!" Charlie called out cheerfully. "Well--that's it! The marriage is over, and we have four new husbands and wives running around. Wish them all the greatest happiness, everyone, and let us hope with all our hearts that their love will see them through and beyond this war!" These potentially sobering words were spoken with such ringing conviction and good faith that the huge garden broke out in a storm of clapping and cheers.
"So, my eldest brother Bill is now a married man!" Charlie continued, grinning, raising his voice above the noise. "And I remember when he was a pesky seven year old reading Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle comics and always trying to hide my toy broomstick. Ah, I forgive you for that and, well, Bill my brother, Fleur my new sister, have a great life!" He lifted his wand to his forehead in a mock salute and deftly threw two crystal glasses of some sparkling blue drink to the newly-weds, who caught them easily, laughing as the bright liquid splashed over their hands.
"And Remus, Tonks, I can't say how glad I am to finally see you two together," said Charlie, looking over to them with a wide smile.
"Neither can I," joked Tonks as she prodded Lupin playfully. "I thought he'd never ask!" A ripple of laughter swept the grounds as Lupin smiled sheepishly.
"Yes, we're all still stunned that you did so at last, Remus," Charlie said, his eyes twinkling. "Though you might regret it when you find you're spending your days repairing everything Tonks breaks--" he ducked, laughing, as Tonks sent a stream of purple sparks at his face with her wand.
"All right, all right, I’ll stop--best wishes, both of you, for all of your lives!" And he stuck a glass under a shining spout of crimson wine, threw back his head and drank to them.
As though this was a signal, the clapping burst out again and there was a rush as everyone moved forwards to grab drinks. Harry caught a glimpse of Lupin kissing Tonks again, all his reserve thrown aside, when all at once a bright jet of clear water shot from the very top of the fountain, and suddenly a huge rainbow was shimmering in the air as the sun blazed through the spray. Harry felt the cool droplets lightly sprinkle his face as he, Ron, and Hermione filled their glasses and toasted the newly-weds, wishing them all the happiness in the world.