Soul Weaver

Arthur had not lied when he said they would get up early - he woke Harry before the sun was up. Thankfully Harry did not have to explain much about what he was going to do to everyone else; plus everyone seemed so sleepy and tired they did not even wake up when Arthur roused him.

Harry dressed and left with Arthur a little while later. Arthur explained that he had asked Mr. Delacour about the French Ministry of Magic and said he would like to visit it; he had mentioned that Harry was curious as well. Mr. Delacour had offered the services of his very fine carriage.

The carriage, he explained, would be invisible while in flight. It took little to no time to get to the French Ministry; Mr. Delacour also explained that it had a locating spell on it and it knew exactly where to go once he told it.

A little while later the carriage landed near the French Ministry of Magic in Paris. Much like the location of the English Ministry, the area didn’t seem all that clean or friendly. The carriage pulled up and stopped abruptly beside a very large abandoned-looking warehouse.

They sat a few moments and Harry wondered if they would get out, but Arthur remained seated and considered the warehouse with interest. Another few moments and the carriage bobbed forward.

A panel that appeared to be like an overlarge garage door to Harry rolled up on the warehouse. Harry noticed a slight waver in his vision as he stared at the entrance. Their carriage moved forward through the large open doorway.

“Amazing, it must be some sort of ward that reveals what an invisibility spell is hiding … look at all the carriages, Harry,” Arthur said as he pointed in front of them. What was once invisible was now a line of carriages much like the one they sat in. They appeared to be ferrying people coming to work or coming to the Ministry on business.

People exited the carriages and then the carriages literally disappeared out of another door on the other side of the warehouse. A moment later the door to their carriage opened and he and Arthur exited. A very slim man held out a small white paper to Arthur, who took it and slipped it into one of his pockets. Harry wondered if this was the magical version of valet parking? He didn’t get the opportunity to find out at the moment.

“Well, Harry, let’s follow the rest of these people. Mr. Delacour said we should not have a hard time at all finding the right location and there should be someone to help us if we get lost,” Arthur explained.

They followed the mass of people, all filing through double doors at the back of the warehouse. As they emerged through the door, they found themselves standing in a room with many different stairways leading downward.

“Which one do we take?” Harry asked with worry. Mr. Weasley studied the people and caught a rather elegantly-dressed young witch by the arm.

“Miss, we’re not sure …” Arthur began, but the girl shook her head. “Non, non, non … no Eengleesh … go zer, zat one,” she said; she pointed to one of the stairways to the left and hurried off on her way.

“Not very friendly,” Harry commented as they headed for the stairs she indicated. Arthur nodded as they descended the elegant staircase. Once they had reached the bottom, they walked down a long white marble corridor.

At the end was an ornate silver archway: the curved upper surface was decorated with the word 'Trouvaille', the sides were lined with small signs. Beside each sign was a hole in the wall and Harry imagined it was just large enough for a person to put a stick in, or, he realized, more likely a wand.

Arthur studied the little signs cautiously and glanced at Harry a bit nervously. “My French is fairly poor, Harry. Any idea which one might say Portkey … or even Visitor Services?” he asked.

Harry stared at the French words with apprehension. He had no idea and scowled at the signs. At that moment two men came up behind them and seemed somewhat impatient.

“English?” Arthur asked in a nervous tone. The men exchanged glances and appeared to find them a bit funny. They spoke in French to each other and pointed at one of the signs.

Arthur and Harry stepped back and the one of the men took out his wand and placed the end into the small hole beside another sign. A strange grumbling and grinding sound was heard, as if some large machine with huge gears was coming to life. Harry felt the floor shiver and then it stopped. The doorway opened before them. The two men entered and then the doorway sealed itself again.

“Well, seems not too difficult, but it’s quite fascinating, isn’t it … to see a different Ministry at work,” Arthur commented as he poked his wand into the hole beside the sign the two men indicated. The same sound occurred and Harry again felt the floor shudder a moment later, as if it something had just jerked to a stop.

The doorway opened and Arthur and Harry proceeded forward. The doorway sealed behind them and they found themselves in a very elegantly furnished room.

The room was adorned with arches and white columns; around the room between the arches were grand paintings that filled the space. Each tableau depicted a scene of some grand event. One was of a wizard fighting a dragon: the scene moved much like magical photographs and portraits did, but it seemed more wispy and it reminded Harry of a watercolor painting he had once seen of flowers. Another was of a witch walking with many children behind her: she held her wand aloft and appeared to be defending the children from some unseen attacker.

All of a sudden a woman’s voice spoke in French. At first Harry blinked at the wall, but he realized the voice had come from another direction. He turned around to see a woman sitting at a desk at the other end of the room.

“Ah … we are here to see about purchasing a Portkey,” Arthur explained as they moved to stop in front of her desk. The woman eyed them cautiously and then waved a hand dismissively.

“You are Eengleesh … I can speak zis to you … yes?” she said a little jerkily, as if she were unsure she was saying the right thing. Harry studied her and he got the feeling she couldn’t be much older than Fleur. She was alright-looking as far as girls go, Harry thought, but nothing compared to Ginny.

Harry glanced at her desk and saw the nameplate Mireille D’Averseau sitting in the center with a small fluffy stuffed animal propped up on the corner of it; it appeared to be a rabbit and this somehow struck Harry as odd and a little disturbing for some reason.

“Yes, we are English,” Arthur began. “We’re here in France for a wedding. Mr. Delacour said to mention him and Fleur … we are here for Fleur and Bill Weasley’s wedding. I’m Arthur, Bill’s father,” Arthur explained. The woman made a cheerful sound and stood.

“Yes, yes … ohh ... Fleur and Bill, yes,” she proclaimed effusively. “I know ze Delacours, I am to be a guest for ze wedding, yes … I know Fleur and we are friends,” she went on in the same happy tone.

“Well, wonderful … I’m sure we’ll see you at the wedding then,” Arthur stated kindly.

“I will be ’appy to ’elp you, Mr. Weasley. What ees eet you weesh?” she asked and smiled at Harry as she stood ready to help.

“Well, my young friend here, Harry, he is a guest and wishes to buy Bill and Fleur a gift. He is thinking about a Portkey,” Arthur explained in a friendly manner. “Probably not to use now, since they already have their honeymoon planned, but something they can use later. He’s never bought one before and it was a bit of a last minute choice … so I offered to bring him here and try to manage to get a nice gift for them.”

“Ohh, a Portkey as a wedding geeft … what a very generous boy ’e ees,” she said smiling at Harry and then made a clucking noise with her mouth. “I say boy, but ’e ees grown, oh yes,” she gushed as she eyed him curiously.

Harry stared at her nervously and gulped because of the way she was looking at him.

“I no do zis, but I can get ze very one who does … if you will wait, I will go find ’er,” she stated and pointed over to some seats that lined the wall beside her desk.

Harry and Arthur sat down and waited. They both gazed around the room and studied each wall with interest.

“I believe each of these scenes represents a historical magical event, but I’m not up on French History. I was fairly lucky to muddle through our own,” Arthur said with humor. “Professor Binns, you know, didn’t make it very interesting,” he added with a grin. Harry gave a laugh and nodded.

“It’d be sad to know Hogwarts might not open this year though, very sad …” Arthur expressed and was studying Harry in a way that Harry felt a little awkward with; it was as if he was expecting Harry to say something.

“Seems a shame to let You-Know-Who drive us out of our own place, doesn’t it?” Arthur went on, seemingly almost to himself. Harry glanced up at him but he was now staring across the room to the wall where the wizard was fighting the dragon. Harry turned his head to look at it: now the dragon seemed to be getting the upper hand on the wizard, who was cowering behind a rock as flames blasted around it.


“You weesh to buy ze Portkaey?” asked a female voice a little while later. She said it very slowly and in a very heavy accent that Harry had a lot of trouble understanding.

“You,” she pointed at him. “You weesh to buy ze Poorrtkaeeyy?” she asked again even slower than before; she also held up a plastic drink bottle as she said it.

“Harry, she wants to know if you want to buy a Portkey,” Arthur prodded gently.

“Oh, yes … that’s me,” Harry said as he stood.

“I’ll wait here for you, Harry,” Arthur said as Harry followed the witch who had spoken to him.

Harry got up and followed the lady. The first woman had sat back down at her desk; she smiled at Harry and waved to him as he followed the new lady back through another doorway.

This new woman was much older and seemed far more stern than the other. She was dressed all in gray and had hair almost the same color as her robes; it was tied tightly in a bun at the back of her head. He was momentarily reminded of Professor McGonagall because of how the woman looked.

Nothing extraordinary waited beyond the doorway except a long corridor filled with magical portraits of people and doorways leading into offices. Some were closed, some were open. As he passed he could see people sitting and working or voices speaking in French coming out of them.

“Do you ’ave ze information for ze kaey? ’ave you filled out ze form?” she asked as he continued to follow her around a corner and then into a small office.

“Umm, no … I’ve never bought one before … it’s a gift for my friend’s brother who is getting married,” Harry explained as she moved to sit behind a very neat and orderly-looking desk.

Harry moved to take the empty chair that sat in front of the desk. The office was very neat and tidy except for one wall of it. On that wall were many, many shelves filled with boxes of what Harry would call old things and garbage. The wall was cram packed full of stuff that he would never consider keeping, let alone putting on display in an office.

Empty buckets with holes in them, old shoes, empty plastic bottles of all shapes and sizes, rusty faded signs with words written in French, a few dolls with an arm or leg missing, which Harry found a little disturbing to see. Harry thought that if there were anything a Muggle could throw away, it must be on this wall.

The back wall had a row of file cabinets and the other wall had a fireplace with a row of photographs sitting on top of it. On the woman’s desk was a small sign that he was sure was the woman’s name, Madame Brindur, and a word under it in French he didn’t know.

The lady made a noise to get his attention and he glanced back at her to find she was holding out a parchment to him.

“You will fill out ze form … yes … I will ’elp you. Eet ees in French … so I will read ze line to you and you fill in, yes?” she said. It took him a moment but he nodded once he understood what she was saying. She handed him a quill and they began. She called out each line to him and he filled in the appropriate answer.

It wasn’t too complicated: things like name, what country are you from, place of birth - which he wasn’t exactly sure of so he just filled in England again.

“Where ees eet you will buy ze Portkaey to?” she asked for the next question.

“America,” he said softly.

“America … ze United States?” she asked and he nodded.

“Eet ees a long way to travel by Portkaey, are you sure zis ees correct and what you wish to give zem?” she asked cautiously.

“Erm, well … yeah, I’m pretty sure it will be fine,” Harry replied, but he was sure his voice betrayed that he wasn’t sure at all. Was it really hard to travel by Portkey that far? Harry began to wonder whether it was risky; he knew though that Dumbledore wouldn’t try to put him in too much danger. Though, he thought back over the last six years of school and began to wonder if he was right about that.

“Most people only travel to zer by Portkaey eef zey are in a ’urry, eef zey are in danger … or eef zer ees an emergency,” she explained and was studying him intently. Harry thought quickly and tried to come up with a good reason why they would travel so far by Portkey.

“I heard they were going to Brazil for their honeymoon,” he blurted. “So I figured they might like to pop up to America for the last day,” he lied. “It was kind of hard what to decide to buy … so … this was the best idea I could come up with and well, you know … being a bloke and all … it’s hard to decide on what kind of gift to get for something like this,” he went on. He’d never talked so quickly or been so nervous in his life. He didn’t want to screw this up, but how was he going to convince this woman to sell him a Portkey?

“It ees your money,” she said in a baffled tone. “I just wished you to know eet ees a far trip and zey may not wish to use eet,” she suggested.

“Oh,” he responded. “Well, if they don’t want it … maybe they can just return it,” he added. She laughed.

“Return eet … you are making a joke, yes?” she questioned and then laughed again.

“Erm … yeah …I’m quite a joker,” he agreed, realizing you must not be able to return a Portkey.

“If you are sure zis ees what you wish to give zem … zen I see no reason why you can not obtain a Portkaey to America,” she stated. “Where in America do you wish for zem to travel?” she asked. Harry was relieved and simply smiled at her. He had been convinced she was going to tell him there was no way he could buy a Portkey.

“There are many places a couple zat ’as just married should like to go … perhaps to Florida … or zer is a very amazing Muggle place called Las Vegas. I ’ear eet ees much fun …”

“Actually,” he cut in, “I’ve heard of a nice town called Westbrook. I believe it is in Virginia and a magical community,” he informed, feeling confident since he at least knew some information that was relevant.

She blinked her eyes at him a moment as if surprised by his odd request. She stood and moved to a large file cabinet, opened the third drawer and searched through the files. After a few moments she seemed to find what she was searching for.

She came back to the desk with the file and on top of it he saw the letters USA. She opened it and on the paper inside he could see a list of names but he was unable to read them. She scanned the list, turned the page and scanned again; she went through about four pages. She stopped at the bottom of the fourth page and seemed to be reading the whole line.

“Is everything alright?” he asked curiously since she had got a rather brooding expression.

“Zis Westbrook ees a restricted town,” she said looking up from the paper. “No person is allowed to apparate or Portkaey into eet. Eef you go to zis town, you ’ave to know a person zer or you are not allowed to enter,” she explained in a serious tone.

“I do know someone, a friend of … a friend,” stammered Harry.

“Zer ees no way for us to know all people zat live in zis town … so eet ees impossible to buy a Portkaey to go into zis Westbrook,” she insisted.

Harry’s heart began to hammer with worry that he wouldn’t be able to do as Dumbledore wished. He wondered how important it was that he get there. Was this Celeste Fairstone really so significant? Didn’t he have Horcruxes to find and Lord Voldemort to defeat, along with a war to win? Technically they were all tied together, but sometimes to him they all seemed like a three-headed dragon that he was fighting.

“Perhaps somewhere else een Virginia … zis state has many places to visit,” she offered. Harry stared at her and she actually seemed to appear to want to help; her expression had softened and he wondered if he appeared as depressed as he actually felt.

“Well, maybe … can you get me, I mean the Portkey, close to the town of Westbrook? Then if they wanted … they could find a way to visit if they really wanted to see it,” he asked in a hopeful tone.

She seemed to consider this and stood again; this time she opened another drawer in a separate file cabinet and brought back what she unfolded to be a map. She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a rather large magnifying glass and began to scan the map.

“Eet does not say eizer way exactly where zis Westbrook ees in Virginia. So I can not say for sure eef I know how to get zis Portkaey close,” she stated as she scanned the map. “But, my map of zis state of Virginia can explain much about where zis place ees een general.” She stopped her searching at the left side of the map and moved it up slowly, then stopped again. She made a clicking sound with her mouth.

“Did you find it?” Harry asked and was quite curious over what she was doing and what exact kind of map it was.

“I believe zat I can get you close to zis town, yes…very interesting. Another town zat has many magic citizens would be ze best choice, and zen someone zer will surely know how to voyage to Westbrook,” she said in an upbeat tone. “But, I ‘zink I find eet. So I should be able to get you close.” she finished in a pleasant tone.

Harry thought a moment and figured anything was better than nothing. He had to try anyway; if he failed in finding Westbrook, at least he would make an attempt.

“Alright, I think it will be fine … either way it’s something,” Harry said to her. She nodded and pointed to the wall.

“You may pick ze Portkaey you like … I ’ave a large selection of many things …what do you like to be the kaey?” she asked waving her hand to the front and then to the back of the wall filled with junk.

Harry made a slight laugh and stood to scan the array of junk lining the shelves. He looked back at her with humor. “What do you think would be an impressive … erm … wedding gift?” he asked and tried to sound serious about it, but he knew his humor could not be mistaken.

The lady gave him a half smile and moved to glance over the boxes. She pulled out of one a mangled baby doll and out of another a broken wall clock. “Ze babee or ze timekeepeur?” she asked holding them out to him for inspection.

“The clock, please … the other is … disturbing,” he said as he stared at the mangled baby doll with something close to fear. She gave a laugh and tossed the doll back into the box.

“Now, where do you wish ze kaey to be left?” she asked curiously as she sat the broken clock on her desk.

“Left? … erm no, I want to give it to them,” he explained.

“After ze spell, you can not touch it … you travel by Portkaey before, yes?” she asked.

“Yes, I have,” he answered and realized that if it were touched then the person would be taken to the target location. “I want to give it as a gift … so … I don’t know when they will use it,” he added.

“Ah, yes … we will put eet een a special box, yes … though eet cost extra money to do eet zis way … but zey will open ze box and then touch ze kaey,” she explained.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Harry replied.

She wrote on the form he had filled out and seemed to be figuring up the total. Harry was a little surprised at how much it cost: 100 Galleons. He took out the money and handed it to her and she returned his change, which he looked at a little depressively.

“I will prepare ze kaey,” she began in a friendly manner as she placed the gold in her robe pocket along with the parchment he had filled out. “Eet will take a leetle while to make eet, perhaps twenty minutes, at ze most an hour. So if you will wait back wiz your fazer, I will bring eet to you, yes?” she finished in the same manner.

Harry nodded but didn’t put her right on calling Arthur his father. Since Harry could almost consider Arthur to fill that role, he did not see any need for the correction. He was a little disappointed though that he would not get to see the Portkey being made so he left Madame Brindur’s office reluctantly.

He decided not to push it too much, since he felt lucky to be getting one and was just glad that so far he had made it through without any trouble.

He returned to Arthur and explained they would have to wait; it seemed better to wait than to have to come back. As they waited, off and on someone would come in, speak to the lady at the desk in French and then leave off down the corridor, or she would go and fetch someone back to meet them.

Eventually Madame Brindur appeared and brought with her a large white box trimmed with a sparkly ribbon and bow.

“I took ze libertay of wrapping your gift for you in zis box,” she informed cheerfully. The other girl at the desk clasped her hands together happily and seemed pleased.

Harry thanked her awkwardly and was quite embarrassed to have to walk out of the French Ministry carrying the Portkey wrapped as a wedding gift. He also wondered as they left how were they going to sneak it into the Delacour manor without anyone seeing it.

“Mr. Weasley … erm … how am I going to get this into the house without anyone noticing? They’ll see the gift and then wonder where it is if I don’t give it to Fleur and Bill,” Harry asked nervously.

“Hmm … well, I suppose we’ll have to make a side trip and have you actually buy some sort of gift then,” Arthur suggested.

Harry frowned slightly and realized this trip to France was already costing him a lot of money.



An little while later after leaving the French Ministry, Harry and Arthur arrived back at the Delacour manor. They had made a switch with the boxes: inside the white box had been a smaller box that actually held the Portkey and had the spell on it to keep it protected until use. Harry and Arthur had removed the inner box and placed the new present Harry bought for Fleur and Bill inside the original gift box. The newer gift, Harry’s actual present, was a silver frame engraved with Fleur and Bill’s names.

Harry thought it was rather posh looking: inlaid on the silver was a scene that moved similar to how a magical painting moved. The difference was it was in silver instead of colors; everything had a stylized appearance that was engraved into the surface. The little dragons and unicorns danced about on the frame, causing the silver to glitter and sparkle in an appealing way.

As the carriage stopped, they noticed that other carriages seemed to have arrived as well. Arthur and Harry exited and headed to the door. The entrance the carriages used was at the back of the estate; a long sweeping driveway passed down the side of the house and around to the front.

“I’m sure there will be family members arriving today,” Arthur explained as they moved to open the door to the house, only to have it pushed forcefully open by Molly.

“Er … hello dear … ” Arthur said, a bit bewildered.

Harry noticed that Molly appeared rather angry and was glaring at Arthur. Harry wondered what on earth had happened to enrage Mrs. Weasley whilst they had been gone.

“Is everything alright?” Arthur inquired in a timid tone.

“NO, everything is not alright,” Molly complained sharply.

“Oh, Merlin’s beard, what have they done?” Arthur asked impatiently.

“What … who?” Molly responded in confusion. Now each of them appeared just as bewildered as the other.

“The twins, of course,” Arthur replied.

“They haven’t done anything … yet,” she said in a dark tone, as if she realized they probably would eventually. “Ron, Fred and George just woke up a few minutes ago and are eating breakfast,” she stated.

Harry looked at Arthur, who now seemed to have grown more confused.

“Molly, dear. I don’t understand, why are you staring at me as if I’d lost one of the children?” he asked calmly. “Please explain what has got you upset,” he pleaded.

“Great Aunt Muriel is here,” Molly announced in a dejected tone.

“Oh, I thought we’d be happy about that,” Arthur suggested with humor, causing Molly to frown in a way that told Harry and Arthur it wasn’t a laughing matter. “Er … has something happened to her?” Arthur asked with worry when Molly did not say anything.

“She’s fine, as fit as a fiddle,” Molly asserted. Harry and Arthur continued to stare at her in utter confusion.

“She didn’t bring it!” Molly cried and now seemed quite upset.

“It?” Arthur asked suspiciously but also a little warily.

“The tiara, Arthur!” Molly snapped angrily. “Really, do men ever pay attention?” Molly muttered under her breath.

“The … tiara …” Arthur declared and seemed relieved. “I was worried that something horrible had happened, Molly … you shouldn’t scare me like that,” he insisted. She, however, did not seem pleased.

“This is a disaster! I promised Fleur … I can’t believe this has happened,” Molly complained and began to wring her hands.

“I’m sure Fleur will not mind, Mrs. Weasley …” Harry suggested, but he stopped talking because Molly’s lip quivered and her eyes watered up as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

“Dear, I’m sure Fleur has lots of things that she can wear,” Arthur offered.

Molly gave a dejected cry, turned and hurried back into the house. Arthur quickly followed after her. Harry trailed behind, unsure what all the fuss was about. Why was Mrs. Weasley so upset about this?

He made his way inside and walked through a small foyer and then down a short hallway. Off to one side was the kitchen; he came out of the short hallway into the room that was the dining area that he had been in last night.

Arthur and Molly had gone on through and out of the dining room; Harry stopped because he found Ron, Fred and George seated at the table along with Ginny and Hermione.

“Harry … I suppose you heard about the tiara drama?” Ginny said as Harry moved to sit beside her. He put the gift box on the table, but placed the Portkey box in his lap so that it would not draw attention.

“Yeah, your mum seems very upset about it,” Harry replied.

“Mum’s all worked up, talking about matrimonial curses … something about old and new and blue,” Ron informed between large mouthfuls of breakfast.

“Actually, it’s an old poem about the bride carrying good luck charms on her wedding day. I’ve heard it before,” Hermione said cheerfully. Ron simply made a face as if he expected her to go ahead and recite it.

“Something old, something new,
Something borrowed, something blue,
And a silver sixpence in her shoe.”

“Sounds like a load of rubbish to me,” Fred muttered between bites of food, much like Ron had.

“I believe it has a magical heritage along with Muggle one,” Hermione went on. Each of the boys rolled their eyes as Hermione began to explain the tradition.

“Each item in the poem represents a good-luck token for the bride. If she carries all of them on her wedding day, her marriage will be happy. ‘Something old’ symbolizes continuity with the bride's family and the past. ‘Something new’ means optimism and hope for the bride's new life ahead. ‘Something borrowed’ is usually an item from a happily married friend or family member, whose good fortune in marriage is supposed to carry over to the new bride. The borrowed item also reminds the bride that she can depend on her friends and family.”

They all just stared at her in bewilderment, except for Ginny who seemed thrilled to hear this bit of information.

“Well, what’s the blue?” Ron muttered. “And the sixpence, for that matter,” he added. Everyone except Hermione stared at him, not realizing he had even listened enough to miss those two.

“Blue has been connected to weddings for centuries. In ancient Rome, for example, brides wore blue to symbolize love, modesty, and fidelity,” Hermione continued; she seemed pleased that Ron had actually been paying attention.

“A silver sixpence in the bride’s shoe represents wealth and financial security. It’s said to date back to a Scottish custom of a groom putting a silver coin under his foot for good luck. I think it’s supposed to be in the left shoe for a bride,” Hermione finished and seemed to be thinking whether she was correct about the last part.

“Where’s the magic in all that?” George asked darkly.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in answer and gave them a playful smile.

“So you don’t know,” Ron charged mischievously.

“Well, Ron, good luck charms are magical things, so that’s obviously in our field, isn’t it? Clearly, Muggles can’t make them,” she answered. Ron was the one to now shrug his shoulders but more with disinterest.

“So, did she forget that tiara thing?” Harry asked, realizing nobody had said where the missing item was.

“Mum came in our room when Great Aunt Muriel arrived,” Ginny replied. “Mum was saying something about she couldn’t believe it … a cherished family heirloom gone,” Ginny informed. “She said I should go down and greet Aunt Muriel and then Mum left the room,” Ginny finished.

“Well, what happened to the tiara?” Ron asked curiously.

“Auntie didn’t say anything about it and I didn’t ask, since Bill, Fleur and some of her family were around when I went down. Mum never really explained what she was talking about, she was too worked up,” Ginny insisted.

“Maybe she lost it,” Fred suggested.

“Or sold it,” George added.

“Maybe she let someone else borrow it and they never returned it, or it was stolen,” Ron considered.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders and everyone else became silent for a few moments.

“I know what Fleur-kins can borrow, we’ll let her borrow Harry’s invisibility cloak,” Fred proclaimed and was grinning deviously. George burst into laughter, Ron smirked mischievously and the rest seemed to be confused, not getting the joke.

“She’d be invisible and Bill would have to give his vows to thin air,” Fred stated with humor.

“Well that’s not much different than if he did that without the cloak, now is it?” Ron mused with the same wicked humor.

The twins stared at Ron a moment as if shocked and then both burst into laughter.

“That’s not nice,” Ginny scolded sharply.

“Oh really, and this is coming from the same girl that called her … Phlegm?” Ron asked sharply. Ginny blushed bright red and scowled at Ron.

“Well, she’s going to be my sister now … so … if she marries Bill, then she’s part of the family,” Ginny stated in a determined tone.

“Hey, a sister now,” George teased.

“A new one to tease,” Fred mused with a wink at Ginny.

“You all do realize that eventually you will be aunt and uncles … and by the way Bill and Fleur act, I’d say it will not be as long as all of you might think,” Hermione announced.

The Weasley children stared at her, caught off guard by this comment. The realization that they might end up being called those names seemed odd.

“Oh no … I’ll officially be old then,” Ron complained in a bitter tone. “I haven’t even had any kids of my own yet, how can I be an uncle? I’ve only just become an adult,” he added depressively.

“You’re scaring Ron, Hermione,” Harry said with a grin.

“Lucky me, I’ll never be an aunt,” Hermione teased cheerfully.

Fred glanced over at Ron mischievously and then back at Hermione, “Well, if you happen to marry someone with lots of brothers …”

“… you’re sure to be an aunt eventually,” George finished in a cheerful tone.

Ron’s face turned bright pink and he fidgeted about nervously. Hermione seemed to take a moment to consider this comment; the cheerful expression she had from thinking she had made a fine joke turned to an expression of consternation.

“Well, I know I’ll never be an aunt,” Harry joked. “And I had such hope to be called Auntie,” he announced, a mocking depression in his voice. Everyone laughed including Ron.

“Such a happy group,” a woman’s voice said. They all turned to the voice. Harry could only assume this woman was Great Aunt Muriel. She stood framed in the doorway for a moment, Arthur and Molly standing behind her.

The woman entered the room with a dignified air; she slowly made her way over to the table, Arthur and Molly following behind her.

She was a very old lady, Harry thought. Her hair was stone gray and she had bright lively blue eyes. She carried an overlarge handbag hooked on her left arm and once she reached the table she sat down beside Ron.

Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley still seemed a bit upset, so he had to assume the tiara problem had not yet been solved to Molly’s satisfaction.

“Well, who is this one? I’ve met these young ones earlier but I’ve not seen this one yet,” the lady said indicating Harry.

“This is Harry Potter, Aunt Muriel,” Arthur stated. “Harry, this is our Great Aunt Muriel … Mrs. Muriel Prewett to be exact,” he added in a cheerful tone.

“Harry Potter. So, this is he, is it?” Muriel stated and now studied Harry curiously. “He seems very much a Potter, doesn’t he?” she announced. “They were always a dashing lot with dark hair … he does have that, doesn’t he?” she added in a cheerful tone.

Harry stared at the woman nervously but was curiosity; did she know other Potters? Perhaps she might have known his grandparents or even great-grandparents. He wanted to ask her but another group of people entered the room: Fleur, Bill, Charlie, Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, Gabrielle and other members of the Delacour family Harry had seen last night.

Harry found out that more people would be arriving shortly and that they should all go upstairs and dress nicely for lunch. He did not exactly know why they had to get ready again for lunch; at this point Harry was just wishing he had eaten breakfast.

As they made their way upstairs, Hermione told him that they were going to tour the Delacour vineyards and then they were all going to a restaurant to eat lunch. Then they had to attend the wedding rehearsal and finally they would go out to dinner together with the whole bridal party back at the Delacour manor.

“Well, at least we’ll eat well while we’re here,” Ron commented as they entered their room.

Harry nodded and stuffed his Portkey into his trunk; he had given the present to Fleur and Bill before he had followed everyone upstairs. Mrs. Weasley had seemed pleased, so he was glad he was able to lighten her mood a little.

Once they had all come back downstairs more people had arrived. A group of girls said to be bridesmaids were among them; Harry thought he recognized them and figured he might have seen them in his fourth year at Hogwarts during the Triwizard tournament. Perhaps they were fellow students of Fleur’s.


The trip to the Delacour vineyard was pretty boring by magical standards, at least in Harry’s opinion. Looking at old wine bottles and a big field of grape vines really did not hold much interest to someone who had fought the Dark Lord and Death Eaters.

The adults seemed interested in it and listened to the Delacour’s winery manager explain the process of creating the wine and how the Delacour family had been producing the best magically produced wine in France for centuries.

Harry noticed that Ron and the twins were bored as well. Even Hermione and Ginny seemed to find it all rather dull.

The twins took to jesting with Harry: every once and a while during the tour they proclaimed to everyone how dashing Harry was, which became annoying after the fifth time they did it.

Nothing seemed so wonderful as when the tour was over and they all headed off to the restaurant. It was a very nice restaurant Harry noticed when they arrived. Mrs. Weasley warned the twins before they entered that they had better be on their best behavior.

Thankfully the twins not only behaved admirably but they seemed to have developed a nice rapport with Fleur’s bridesmaids. Molly watched them suspiciously for any hint of mischief but the whole lunch was very nice and relaxed.

After lunch they all went to the place the wedding was to be held. It was a beautiful location that even Harry had to admit would make a spectacular area to have a wedding.

The building was a large white meeting hall with a domed roof. Fleur called the building the Salle D’Attestation and said that many important ceremonies in French wizarding history had taken place there. For weddings, the etched and colored glass windows were charmed to show graceful moving scenes of brides and grooms.

Once they were inside, Fleur explained in detail that, as it was summer, the wedding ceremony would actually take place outside behind the building in the gardens; the reception would be held inside.

As they headed out to the back they exited through an arched doorway, the doors were made of glass and sparkled and shimmered in the summer sunlight. Once they were outside, nobody in the party could find words to describe the beauty the place held. The gardens were alive with flowers and bright colors.

Harry had never seen so many flowers and there had to be something of every flower here. People were about cleaning and fixing up the gardens, preparing for tomorrow’s ceremony. The gardens overlooked a sparkling blue lake that simply compelled everyone to stare at it with contentment.

It was tranquil and the only sounds that disturbed them were the workers moving about, a bird or two chirping sweetly above in the trees and Fleur Delacour going on and on about how everything would happen.

A short black man came forward to greet them all and Harry watched curiously as Fleur and her family spoke in French to the man. Bill seemed to be able to keep up with them fairly well but the rest of the party simply had to smile and pretend interest.

Fleur took a moment in the conversation to explain that the man ran the establishment and was the wedding coordinator, named Guy Diop. After another few minutes of conversation in French the man directed them all down to the area where the seating was being set up for the wedding.

A little while later Harry found himself trying to understand the proper way to walk down an aisle, being explained in French and interpreted by Fleur. They were soon all laughing though because Guy Diop was quite entertaining with his dramatic movements and wild hand gestures. He was trying enthusiastically to show and explain how things should go and what was to happen but it came off as somewhat comical.

Guy seemed very good-natured though and seemed to enjoy that he was making them laugh and soon the practice run for the wedding became great fun. Even Mr. and Mrs. Delacour were laughing because the twins pretended to walk down the aisle together. So all in all it was a rewarding event for everyone.

An hour later they all headed back to the Delacour manor. Harry was thankful his little walk down the aisle was very easy and not as big a task as he first feared; all he would really be doing was standing there most of the time.

Once they were all back inside the house they had a few hours to lounge about until dinner. Because Harry had risen early he went upstairs and crashed on the bed for a afternoon nap and thankfully nobody bothered him. The only thing that did disturb him was his dream.

The dream started with he and the others arriving at the wedding. He walked down the aisle with Ginny who was gloriously beautiful. Fleur and Bill stood at the front, but as the ceremony started a great gust of wind and a puff of smoke appeared behind them all. Voldemort and Snape appeared out of the smoke and walked up to where Harry stood.

The two started laughing at him and making jokes about how seriously he was taking the war, dressed up in dress robes and parading down the aisle with his girlfriend.

Fleur started complaining in French behind Harry, who in turn tried to pull out his wand only to find that he didn’t have it with him; and then he realized he couldn’t move at all.

Voldemort walked over to Ginny and took out his own wand. He pointed it at Fleur and Bill who both disappeared along with the rest of the guests.

All of a sudden Draco Malfoy appeared out of nowhere and walked over to stand beside Voldemort. He took hold of Draco’s arm and forced Ginny and Draco up to stand in Fleur and Bill’s place. The wedding began and Harry could only watch in horror as Ginny was compelled to marry Draco. Harry couldn’t even speak; he was frozen and unable to stop this horrible nightmare.

“This is for the best,” Snape said coolly and grabbed hold of Harry by the back of his robes and pulled him away.

“HARRY!” Ron’s voice yelled, startling Harry awake. “Are you alright, mate? You were thrashing about and yelling something about Snape,” Ron informed with concern.

Harry sat up and stared around the room in bewilderment. He hunted for his glasses and realized he hadn’t taken them off; he readjusted them on his face hastily, swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a few moments catching his breath and realizing it had all been a dream.

“Bad dream?” Ron asked.

“More like a nightmare,” Harry commented and stood up to stretch; he then rubbed his forehead absently.

“Your scar doesn’t hurt, does it?” Ron said nervously.

“No … not for a long time, since in the Ministry it hasn’t hurt … not at all last year, not that I can remember anyway,” Harry stated.

“So, the connection is gone with him … seems a shame … at least a little,” Ron began. “Not that I want you to have nightmares and headaches, but it did offer us the ability to sort of look in on the scary buggers,” Ron finished a little depressively.

“If I had to choose … I would rather not know anything,” Harry suggested softly. “I just hope it’s gone for good,” he added. Ron nodded.

“Well, they sent me up to get you,” Ron explained. “Dinner will be soon and they want us all down to meet the people who are coming over for dinner. More like a pre-dinner party … something so the adults can sit around and gab at one another till it’s time to eat,” Ron explained. We’re also to dress respectably, whatever that means,” Ron added as he moved to open up his bag.

“Dress robes?” Harry asked in an offhand manner.

“No, just better than what we wear every day … but I don’t really have anything better than everyday so I guess it just means changing into something different than we’ve had on all day,” Ron said and shrugged his shoulders. “I should have brought more clothing with me, didn’t know I’d need two sets a day,” he joked. Harry laughed and also hunted for something different to wear.

He also had not known they would be changing clothing for every meal, but after tomorrow he would not have to worry about it, unless they also changed clothing for every meal in America.


Once they arrived downstairs there were lots of people Harry didn’t know, most of them where friends of the Delacours but some were friends and relations of the Weasleys. Everyone was talking and it was very hard to meet everyone so Harry and his group stood together as the adults went around introducing each other.

Harry was excited to see Remus Lupin and Tonks show up a little while after he had come down. Tonks’ hair was bright pink; the brightest he had ever seen it. It was also interesting to see the two dressed up. Lupin was wearing robes that were not tattered or torn and Tonks looked striking in a dress of pale yellow.

“You clean up well,” Ron said to Tonks and was grinning at her with mischief.

“So do you,” she teased, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I didn’t know you two were coming,” Harry said cheerfully as Lupin patted him on the shoulder.

“Arthur and Molly invited us to the wedding and they told us we could pop by tonight and have dinner with everyone,” Tonks said.

“We haven’t been gone long, but how are things back at home?” Harry asked curiously.

“Nothing has happened, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Remus reassured. “We didn’t have a hard time leaving England, but lots of people are talking about how hard it is to get back into England … so we might not have such an easy time getting home as we did leaving it,” he explained.

“Seems silly really … when people can just use Portkeys and apparate where they want, doesn’t it?” Ron suggested.

“It’s their way of appearing to be doing something, even if they’re not really doing anything,” Harry muttered darkly.

“I don’t imagine they’ll stay hidden too much longer, not with Albus Dumbledore gone,” Tonks submitted in a tone of worry, but then she seemed to realize this statement caused the younger ones to fidget nervously, especially Harry.

“Sorry,” she said gently and patted his arm in a friendly manner.

“It’s alright,” Harry replied softly as she lowered her arm.

Mr. and Mrs. Delacour announced a second or two later that dinner was served and everyone filed into the dining room. There was much commotion to find the proper seats and decide where everyone should be sitting.

Harry ended up being seated across from Ginny and between Aunt Muriel and a man he had not met who spoke French.

Mr. Delacour went around and filled the glasses with wine and a moment later the food appeared. The conversation was mostly about the wedding with drips of conversation thrown in about the war; nobody seemed to want to stay on that subject though and everyone seemed to be doing their best to avoid it for fear of ruining the happy occasion.

Right after the meal everyone sat around talking and the adults seemed to be consuming a lot of wine. So much so that Great Aunt Muriel leaned over to Harry and called him Charlus. He had no idea who Charlus was but he decided it was time to go to bed.

Ginny, Hermione and Ron also got up, but the twins wanted to stay, calling them party poopers as they left.

“Looks like Aunt Muriel is sweet on you, Harry,” Ginny commented as she took his arm on the way upstairs. “I hope I don’t have to fight her off,” she teased.

“She called me Charlus … don’t know who she thought I was,” he said absently as they all headed into Harry and the boys’ room. Ron flopped down on his bed and Hermione sat down at the end of it, resting her chin on the wood frame.

“I wonder about that tiara,” she said in an offhand manner.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as he sat down on the end of his bed. Ginny stood between them and seemed curious as well.

“I think Mum’s still upset about it, I heard her say she was sorry to Fleur at the dinner table,” explained Ginny. “Fleur didn’t seem too upset, she actually looked relieved,” she added.

“Why would you be wondering about that anyway?” Ron asked Hermione and propped himself up on his side.

“I don’t really know, it just keeps bothering me for some reason,” she replied and stretched.

“Are you turning into Professor Trelawney? I hope you’re not going to start spewing prophecies,” Ron taunted darkly.

“Ohh … Ron you will suffer for that one, I’m sure,” Ginny informed as Hermione glared at him wickedly.

“Yes, and perhaps something evil is in order because I know you’re ticklish,” Hermione threatened and grabbed Ron’s leg to tickle the back of his knee.

Ron gave a sudden burst of laughter and jerked his leg away from her. Harry and Ginny stared at the two awkwardly and Ron seemed to realize a moment later they had company.

“How do you know he’s ticklish?” Harry asked, sounding a little horrified.

Hermione and Ron both blushed as red as fire and Ginny began to giggle uncontrollably. Hermione let go of Ron’s foot and moved her hand up to fussing with her hair nervously.

“Did I miss something?” Harry asked as the other three seemed to refuse to answer his question.

“Maybe it’s time we all were in bed, we do have an early start tomorrow,” Hermione commented.

“Yeah, good point. Don’t want to miss a minute of the big event,” Ron said grinning at her. “Of course Fleur will surely let us know what we’ve missed in detail,” he added with dark humor.

Hermione and Ginny left a moment later and Ron and Harry dressed for bed. They both climbed into bed without comment but Harry was still dying to learn how Hermione knew Ron was ticklish.

“How did she know you were ticklish?” Harry asked and pushed himself up to stare across the room toward Ron. He sat up and gave Harry a roguish expression but made no comment.

“Did something happen while I was away?” Harry questioned.

“I’m tired, Harry … talk to you in the morning,” Ron said, his voice filled with humor.

Harry was a little frustrated as Ron flicked the light off with his wand. Did he miss something while he was away buying the Portkey? When had Hermione found out Ron’s feet were ticklish? Harry had lived in the same room with Ron for many years now and he didn’t even know it, not that he wanted to tickle Ron’s feet. The door opened and light came back on a moment later. The twins were singing rather obnoxiously about weddings as they stood in the doorway. Harry and Ron sat up to see Arthur pushing them inside the room.

“To bed with all of you now,” Arthur said in a stern tone. “And don’t let me catch you two out of this room … sleep it off,” he barked at the twins and closed the door sharply.

Harry and Ron stared at Fred and George suspiciously. “What have you two done now?” Ron asked.

“Us … nothing,” Fred began.

“Abso … Absolu … nothing,” George stammered, sounding quite odd to Harry.

“You two have had too much wine, I believe,” Ron complained.

“Too much is not enough,” Fred stated in a defiant manner.

“Not nearly,” George muttered and collapsed on his bed.

“How could that happen so fast?” Harry asked in bewilderment.

“Don’t you remember at the tour of the winery, something about it having magical properties?” Ron commented as Fred staggered over to his bed.

“Lovely magical properties,” Fred muttered and also collapsed on his bed.

Ron and Harry burst out laughing as the twins lay sprawled across their beds.

“Can’t handle the drink obviously,” Ron suggested.

“Something to get back at them?” Harry questioned mischievously.

“Absolutely,” Ron stated as he laid back down and flicked his wand again.