A stream of sunlight illuminated the dark grey stone floor as it poured down from the high gothic-style stained glass windows of the cathedral. The neatly arranged seats had been occupied by a large number of people who were attending the wedding. The people belonging to the bride’s side were wearing traditional Christian gowns and suits while the people from the side of the bridegroom were dressed in saris and sherwanis- the traditional Hindu attire.
Ron, who was playing the role of the best man, smoothed his beige coloured sherwani and scanned the room for his wife, Hermione. Oh yes… there she was- dressed in a rust coloured embroidered sari and light jewellery. She was carrying their three-month-old son, Jake, in her arms. Ron smiled at her and she returned it. Then, he looked aside and smiled warmly at his best friend and the bridegroom, Harry. Harry too, like Ron, was dressed in a sherwani, though it was white. A thin red dupatta patterned with blue squares and trimmed with gold dangled lankly from the man’s neck and a sort of headband made of jasmines decorated his forehead, two rows of flowers hanging down his temples. With these Maharashtrian wedding clothes, Harry looked somewhat like an Anglo-Indian, what with his stunningly green eyes and jet black hair.
“Ron, mate?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“It’s just t-that…” Harry looked jittery.
“Nervous?” asked Ron.
Harry nodded rather hesitantly.
“Don’t worry, mate,” said Ron, clapping his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It will be all right. I felt the same way at first, but I got through it, didn’t I?”
Just then, there was the sound of a car halting right outside the cathedral. The two friends heard the opening and shutting of the doors of the car and before long, Harry saw the bride walking gracefully to him through the aisle. She was escorted by her father and the bridesmaids were throwing rose petals for her to walk on. The bride’s white wedding gown was arranged with silver stars and her fingers caressed the roses in her hands in a gracefully nervous manner. She was looking shyly at the floor, her veil rippling elegantly as she did so. Finally, she reached the altar and stood beside Harry.
Harry reached out for her veil shakily and put it back for her, gasping as he did so. She had worn no make-up at all, yet the natural crimson colour on her wheatish cheeks reaching right down her throat made her look gorgeous. Her innocent deep brown eyes looked at Harry’s green ones with warmth and love. Her long and shiny black locks were arranged beautifully in curly bundles. Even though Harry wondered why Parvati was so inclined to curl up her straight hair, he had to agree to himself that her beauty was truly breathtaking.
“Do you, Harry Potter, accept this woman, Parvati Patil as your wedded wife and promise to love, honour, comfort, and keep her in sickness and health as long as you shall live?” the priest asked.
“I do.”
“Do you, Parvati Patil, accept this man, Harry Potter as your wedded husband and promise to love, honour, comfort, and keep him in sickness and health as long as you shall live?”
“I do.”
“You may now kiss the bride.”
There was a shower of red sparks, as Harry bent forward and kissed Parvati on her cheek. Huge applause issued through the cathedral, echoing from the stone walls. Then, Harry took Parvati’s hand in his and the couple walked out of the cathedral, all the guests applauding them loudly and following the couple outside. Harry and Parvati walked on down the narrow road outside the church and turned right, finally walking through a gateway decorated with strings of marigold, jasmines and roses. Harry looked up and saw the temple, with its marble pillars and dome glinting brilliantly in the sunshine.
Leaving their shoes outside, the couple walked past the temple and went into a hall behind the building. The hall was huge, it’s pillars bedecked with flowers. There was a plinth in the centre of the hall with a small depression in the centre, surrounded by bricks. The depression looked like a square well, except for the fact that there was a fire cackling merrily in it. There was a priest sitting beside the fire, putting spoons of clarified butter into it. The fumes made Harry’s eyes burn slightly, as he walked alongside Parvati to sit on the plinth. After the duo had seated themselves cross- legged, the guests began to fill up the hall. They waited for everyone to seat themselves.
Finally, Padma came up to them from the back and bent forwards. She had a small, red container in her hand. “Congratulations!” she whispered, removing the lid of the container and giving it to Parvati, who took it her right hand and extended it towards Harry. The latter stared at her hennaed palm numbly for a second before sticking his right thumb into the container and drawing it out slowly. He looked at the vermilion that had stuck on to his thumb and gradually applied it to the parting of Parvati’s hair. There was a large amount of applause again and puffed rice was showered on Harry and Parvati.
There was a moment of silence, after which Padma gave Harry a necklace of tiny black beads. He put it on Parvati’s neck with a third round of applause. The applause subsided and Padma stepped forward again. She tied Harry’s dupatta to a small portion of Parvati’s gown, with Parvati standing in front of Harry. Harry extended his right hand and held Parvati’s right hand, which she had stretched backwards. The priest on the floor started uttering prayers from the Vedas, as Parvati led Harry around the fire in a clockwise direction. They took seven rounds around it, each time, promising to protect and love each other, regarding the fire as their witness, as rose petals were showered on them.
When the rounds were done, the couple stopped before the altar and detached themselves from each other. Padma smiled at the duo and said to Harry, “Go on, you can hold her hand while walking out.” Harry smiled back at Padma and held Parvati’s hand as they started walking down the aisle to go outside the hall. Soon, Parvati broke her hand free of his, as Padma came up to her, holding out a plate of rice.
Tears streaming down her face, Parvati filled her palms with rice and flung it behind her. She repeated the procedure quite a few number of times, finally triggering even Padma to tears. At last, Harry and Parvati walked outside the hall, finding a red car decorated with flowers waiting outside for them. They got into the car.
“Come home soon,” said a choked-up Padma, looking at her twin through the window of the car.
“Sure!” Parvati said, giving Padma a watery smile. “I’ll come soon. Make sure you visit me too!”
Harry looked onto his other side, to see the people he loved smiling at him. All the Weasleys except Ginny and Percy were there. Percy was still staying separately and Ginny was completing her education at an Auror school in Australia. She had not received admission in the day school for Aurors at London itself, due to shortage of seats.
All the Weasleys beamed at Harry; Mrs. Weasley was controlling her sobs with difficulty. Harry felt happiness erupt in his chest. He was married now. Just then, Parvati’s cousins pushed the car forward for a short distance, after which the couple sped off home in their car; ready to begin a new life.
Killer Instincts by Ginny Weasley Potter
Chapter Notes: I had a lot of fun, writing this prologue. I have taken certain pains to explore Maharashtrian culture so that I could dress Harry in the right way. I am not a Maharashtrian, I only stay in Maharashtra. I know quite a lot about Christian culture, even if it is not the one I follow. Anyway, if anyone spots anything wrong, please do not hesitate to correct me.
‘Patil’ is definitely a Maharashtrian surname and please do not confuse it with ‘Patel’, which is a Gujarati surname. ‘Patil’ is pronounced as ‘Paa- till.’ I also noticed that ‘Parvati’ is often pronounced wrongly (in the HP movies). The real pronunciation is ‘Paar-vuh-thi’.
In the marriage, I’ve put in the basics of Hindu and Christian wedding ceremonies, but have not gone into the smaller rituals. In the Hindu side, especially, I’ve only written the sindoor (application of vermilion on the parting of the bride’s hair), mangalsutra (tying a necklace of black, mustard seed-shaped beads on the bride’s neck) and the seven pheras (seven rounds around the fire, where the couple has to take several vows).
A sherwani is a sort of Indian traditional attire, worn by a man. It consists of a loose shirt with full sleeves and no collar. The shirt reaches the knees and is known as ‘kurta’. The trousers are just like pyjamas. The man also wears a ‘dupatta’, or a sort of scarf. I guess all of you’ll all know what a sari is. (The dress code for my farewell party at school was sari for girls and sherwanis for boys. We had fun looking at each other and taking photographs. But all of us girls tripped over our sari at least once. Oh well, we are not used to wearing saris. Our school uniforms are just an inch below the knees and we are used to pants and salwaars. Saris are worn at a much later stage in life.)
I hope you’ll all enjoy this story. Please review!