Soul Weaver

Severus Snape’s dreams had never been good. For most of his life he either did not really remember them or would rather not remember them.

But, unfortunately for him, at the moment he could not even get to sleep. His mind was filled with memories from the past and of things he would rather push as far back into his mind as he possibly could. For a very long time he had been able to simply ignore those stinging thoughts that kept him from sleep.

Regrets were something for other men and he could not afford them, especially now. So he did his best to settle his mind for sleep.

Instead of sleeping he laid in bed staring up into the darkness, trying to will himself to. Sleep was the only time he could escape from reality; tonight he wondered whether that escape was even possible anymore.

For the past few weeks his dreams had started to change from the norm. He could not account for them; frankly they scared him because they did not make sense anymore. Once he had become an adult and more capable with his skills involving the mind, he gained the ability to manipulate every aspect of most dreams. In the dreams he remembered, he became the master. Very few frivolous nonsense dreams bothered him anymore.

It had been something he had learned to control over the years; he managed quite well in putting his dreams into as much order as his waking life.

Unhappily, over the past few weeks he had found he was no longer in control and that was what frightened him the most - no rules, no order, no logic.

A rule could be shaped if one was given enough ability to twist and maneuver; he had learned how to use rule and the context of social status at an early age. One thing he had learned early on was that rules did not apply to people who were good-looking or wealthy; that was an undeniable cold hard unfeeling fact.

Severus had eventually learned to like facts very much. Books were filled with facts; they were not like people who were filled with complicated emotions and contradictions.

The social rule of beauty and wealth unfortunately had never applied to him; he fell far below what most would deem worthy. For someone like him to get anywhere in life, he had to use the rules to his advantage. If you were un-favored and ridiculed by most people in society then you were on your own; this was another cold hard unfeeling fact.

He had never really put much stock in dreams, but he found himself wanting these new dreams and at the same time fearing them equally as much. He needed to know and understand why his dreams had changed. Even if they scared him, he must know the answer. This was one reason he now found himself fighting so hard to fall asleep.

When sleep eventually managed to wield its power over him, Severus let it take him without protest. He told himself firmly he would find the answer to these dreams, even though he assured himself they really meant nothing.

Once his mind settled and the dream began, it was hard to explain, even to himself. What he saw and felt were utterly confusing. It was as if he had been removed from his own personality, as if he were an entirely different person.

He was no longer Severus Snape but someone else. Who was he? Severus did not know or have an answer to his question because nothing about the question itself was logical. The only reasonable rebuttal he could come up with was that was just a dream and of no importance.


Severus found himself walking along at an awkward, unfamiliar gait. He could not make out where he was; everything was blurry and distorted. A figure appeared before him, a child. Severus could neither make out the child’s face or the voice. In this dream everything was distorted, even people.

Severus began to associate the child with himself and then after a while was sure that the child was in fact him. He was seeing himself as a child, he assumed.

Dark jet-black hair, small skinny frame - it could only be him, Severus told himself. Also the tone in the child’s voice was familar. He could not make out the words the child said, but he felt sure he was correct: this was himself as a child.

How utterly ridiculous this dream was, he scolded: he, Severus Snape, following his younger self. How stupid could a dream possibly be? He told himself to wake up, but the usual order in his mind had somehow left, so he was forced to continue following his childlike self.

The only possibly difference was this younger version of him seemed quite happy; the child seemed to be laughing as they walked along. Severus had never laughed that way, or at least he never remembered being this exuberant as a child.

Severus’ younger self was a little way ahead now, walking faster. It was at that moment Severus realized there were other people around. He did not recognize them since they were also very blurry and distorted.

Severus had tried to stop walking but his body moved along and followed the child. He willed himself to halt, but his body continued to have its own idea of where and when it should move or stop.

Someone in the crowd spoke to him and he stopped. He conversed with them but he had no earthly idea of what he or they were saying.

This was the poorest example of a dream he had even been in; he would at least like to know what was being said. Again his body moved forward following the child.

His younger self stopped and pointed at something ahead of them. Then the child began to bounce. Severus knew he had never bounced. His smaller self was jumping up and down in excitement for some reason.

Severus stopped right before the child and was staring in the direction the child had indicated. Severus could not make out anything and it annoyed him a great deal more because he could not see where he was going or what he was going toward.

Severus stared down at the child again and this time the child reached back and found his hand. Severus felt the little fingers wrap around his hand, he felt the warmth in the small digits as they twisted into his fingers and gently squeezed his hand.

Severus needed to escape - he had to get away from this dream. Fear burned from his mind right down to his hand. It was as if he had placed his hand into a boiling cauldron. The harder the child squeezed, the more painful it became.


Severus jerked awake. This dream had been so real that his hand was actually tingling as he sat up in his cold bed. He fought to bring his breathing back under control. He clenched his hands together and willed the painful sensation to go away.

The younger Severus from the dream; the child had touched his hand and he had felt it. Severus had never experienced such a vivid dream. As he flung the covers back and he staggered out of bed, he was sure he was going to vomit.

Severus made his way in the dark to the bedroom door and threw it open. The hallway was dimly lit. As he made to walk out, he almost fell over Peter Pettigrew crouching in the doorway.

The cowering man scurried backwards and stared up at Severus fearfully, obviously afraid because he had just been caught listening at Severus’ bedroom door.

Severus stepped forward and, with the same hand that had a moment ago been tingling from the frightening dream, he grabbed Peter by the front of his shirt. Severus forced Peter back against the far wall and stared at him with murderous intent sparking in his eyes.

“What do you think you are doing!?” Severus growled as anger replaced the urge to retch.

“You were … yelling! I thought someone was attacking you!” Peter cried in a desperate voice.

“What …?” was all Severus could manage to reply, caught off guard by this statement.

“I heard you yelling …” Peter said again, but as he studied Severus’ face in the dimly lit hallway, a glint of humor and even triumph came into Peter’s eyes. “You were having a nightmare,” Peter announced cheerfully.

Severus released Peter as if the man had just spat on him. Severus pointed down the hallway and glared at Peter with all the hate and venom he could muster.

“Go,” Severus ordered between clinched teeth.

“Feeling guilty?” Peter asked in an obnoxious tone as he slinked down the hallway towards his bedroom.

“Do not press me, filth … I think you forget your place … you are here to assist me,” Severus said in a soft and dangerous voice. “And if we are to be speaking of guilt and nightmares, I will remind you of your own squeals and cries from night terrors … they come from your doorway nightly,” Severus taunted in a silky voice. Peter paled slightly and turned to stare warily at Severus.

“You are the last person who has the right to judge me,” Severus went on as Peter leaned himself into the far door at the end of the hallway. “I answer to the Dark Lord, Pettigrew. You, on the other hand, answer only to your own cowardly nature and have never been able to stand for anything except your ability to grovel like the useless rat you are,” insulted Severus.

Peter frowned and stared at Severus; they exchanged a brief but intense glare of burning hatred.

“Is there anything else you wish to tell me, or are you finished with your little spying session?” Severus asked in a direct manner. Pettigrew made no reply and only shook his head.

Severus turned back to his bedroom but paused again to stare at Peter. “I had better not catch you listening at my door again,” Severus warned before Peter could disappear through his own doorway. Peter still said nothing but simply closed the door behind himself with a loud snap.

Once Peter was gone Severus re-entered his bedroom and hoped he would not suffer the dream again.


A few hours later, many miles away, a knock on the door roused Harry from a pleasant sleep. Ron and the twins gave a grumpy moan of discontent from being woken up.

“Alright in there, no lying around,” Molly’s voice called through the door. “We have a busy day and I expect you all up, bathed, looking neat and orderly in your dress robes,” she went on in a very direct and stern tone.

“Get a move on, and I want no foolishness this morning,” she added.

The twins seemed sure the last part was for them because they muttered loudly in unison, “Yes, Mum.”

“How we’ve missed the Mum alarm clock,” Fred commented.

“Yes, how have we got along without it?” George considered as the two staggered out of bed.

Harry slowly got up and noticed Ron also was stumbling out of bed, appearing half awake. They all fumbled about sleepily, hunting through their things for their dress robes and other items required to start the day properly.

Ron claimed the bathroom first, hastily leaping at the door and entering, closing the door on George before he could wrangle his way inside. George grumbled something about sneaky little brothers and moved back to sort his bag again.

The twins decided a few moments later to test their luck and left the room in hopes of finding another bathroom not in use. Harry sat idly and waited; he had become used to waiting for other people to go first in the morning. For most of his life he had always been last to be allowed use of the bathroom at the Dursleys’; it was no big thing for him to have to wait.

Harry assumed the twins must have found one because they did not return directly. When Ron had finished and emerged, Harry took his turn and got ready. He left the room a little while later; after he had put away all his things and made sure his bed was neat, the twins returned.

“Every female in this place has gone bloody bonkers!” Fred complained as he closed the door.

“What now?” Ron asked as he adjusted his new dress robes and stared at himself smugly in the mirror that hung on one of the walls.

“Fleur’s mum said something to our mum,” George began.

“And now Mum is angry with her,” Fred went on.

“But instead of shouting at Mrs. Delacour, Mum decided to yell at us instead,” George finished in a grumpy tone.

“What did she do to Mum?” Ron asked, turning to stare at his brothers.

“We have no idea,” Fred answered but grinned slightly and nudged George.

“We asked Ginny and she yelled at us too,” George explained after Fred’s prompting.

“But that might be because we walked in on them while they were dressing,” Fred commented in a hushed voice filled with mischief.

“You two walked in on Ginny while she was getting ready?” Ron asked with humor. “I’ll bet she was mad,” he added and turned to stare back in the mirror, admiring himself and his new robes.

“Yeah, she was … and so was Hermione,” George answered with a ruthless grin at Ron.

“What!?” Ron cried as he turned to stare at his brothers again.

“YEP!” Fred announced and moved to stare at himself in the mirror, pushing Ron aside. “We’ve seen some of your package, sorry mate,” Fred teased.

“It was glorious!” George pressed wickedly as he moved in to push Ron further away so he could also stare at himself in the mirror.

Ron gave a furious growl; his face as red as his hair, he leaped at his brothers.

“Hey! Hey! Mind your expensive new robes,” Fred cautioned as he and George avoided their angry younger brother.

The three began to storm around the room; Fred and George continued to taunt Ron as he in turn chased them and tried to grab them.

“Calm down, Ron. They’re only trying to tease you, I’m sure they didn’t see anything,” Harry said as he tried to calm the situation.

“Hermione, disrobed … It was shocking!” Fred countered with glee.

Ron leaped at Fred and the three began to scuffle even more. Ron was furious and the twins were laughing and enjoying the excitement of the moment.

Harry gave up on trying to break it up and decided to go ahead and leave the room. As he closed the door, Hermione and Ginny were heading down towards him. Harry watched Ginny with a keen eye as she came towards him in her bridesmaid dress. She appeared quite beautiful and practically glowing. She was also carrying a couple of bags.

“Need some help?” he asked hopefully.

“I’ve got it,” she replied cheerfully and blushed as she and Hermione stopped in front of him.

“Fleur says all the women are going together to eat breakfast and then have our hair and makeup done at some very expensive and famous parlor,” Hermione explained.

“We’re going to get more beautiful … that’s what Fleur said,” Ginny informed with a hint of humor in her voice.

“Fleur isn’t supposed to see Bill and he’s not supposed to see her,” Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. “So all the men are to go eat breakfast with Bill until it’s time for the wedding,” Hermione explained.

“What time is the wedding anyway?” Harry asked curiously.

“I think they said one o’clock,” Ginny replied.

“Well, we better get going. Mrs. Weasley is waving at us,” Hermione said as she waved down towards the end of the corridor. Harry turned to see Mrs. Weasley motioning for them.

Harry followed behind Ginny and Hermione as they made their way to the staircase. A moment or so later Mr. Weasley’s voice was heard fussing at the twins and Ron. All four appeared shortly and Mrs. Weasley watched her sons sternly as they walked on down the stairs looking very cross with each other; none uttered a word as they passed everyone.

“What’s the matter with them?” Hermione asked as she glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“They were fighting,” Arthur explained. “I have no idea what about,” he said as he moved on down the stairs to keep up with his glowering sons. Ginny, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley all looked at Harry in expectation.

“Erm … umm … I better go on and catch up, don’t want to miss breakfast,” Harry stammered and hurried after Mr. Weasley.

Harry hurried after the men, not wanting to go into detail over what the argument between Ron and the twins was about. He followed Mr. Weasley and the others outside to where carriages waited. Bill, Charlie and Mr. Delacour were already standing beside one of the carriages.

Mr. Weasley in his wisdom decided to separate the twins and Ron. He put Ron and Harry in the carriage with himself, Mr. Delacour and Bill.

Charlie and the twins went in another carriage with a man whom Harry had seen the previous night and thought he remembered as being Mr. Delacour’s cousin or brother; he really could not remember now.

The trip was uneventful and they arrived at a small little restaurant situated near a river. They all exited the carriages and made their way inside where they had to wait for a table.

Harry noticed that the place was busy but nobody seemed concerned or interested to see them all in dress robes. They soon acquired a table and sat down. The waiter spoke French, so Mr. Delacour and Bill translated for those who needed it.

A little while later their food was brought and they ate and chatted amongst each other pleasantly. Thankfully the twins and Ron seemed to have resumed speaking terms and Ron even laughed at a joke they made near the end of the meal.

Once they had finished they headed out to arrive a little while later at the Salle D’Attestation. They exited the carriages again and proceeded inside. There was no sign of Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the women, but there were quite a few workers busy preparing for the big day.

Harry followed everyone else. Mr. Guy Diop appeared and cheerfully chatted with Bill and Mr. Delacour. Mr. Diop led them all outside where the finishing touches were being done to the area where the wedding was to take place.

All the chairs were now set up and lined up in orderly rows. In front of the chairs was what Harry thought to be a short wooden stage that spanned the width of the rows. Candles were set up behind it and Harry figured they must be magical because, even though there was a slight breeze, the candles did not waver or blow out.

A very decorative table was set up at the center of the stage. It had carvings all over it: dragons and unicorns, wizards and witches all adorned the wooden surface. There was not an inch of space that was not covered with some sort of picture or symbol.

On top of the table sat a small black cauldron. It had handles on each side of it that were shaped like doves in flight. Under it burned a bright blue flame that also did not waver or go out from the breeze. To Harry’s eye it appeared that the fire and cauldron both hovered over the table and did not really rest on it at all.

There were also various objects in glass jars on the table along with two candles on either side of the floating cauldron. Harry studied these objects from a distance and was now curious about how a magical wedding was performed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of someone dressed in vibrant purple robes with a long white beard; for a split second his mind cried out, ‘Dumbledore’. Harry quickly whipped around to get a better look at the man.

Harry scowled sadly because, even though he knew Dumbledore was dead, that quick glimpse of this stranger had given his heart a painful tug. The man was not Dumbledore but simply a wizard who dressed and looked somewhat similar.

The man approached their group with a quick gait; his bright colored robes shimmered in the daylight and gave off a faint sparkle as he neared them. His hat was tall and pointed; on the end dangled little stars and moons that bounced and swished as the man walked. He held a long staff that he used as he walked along; at the end of it was carved a dragon’s head.

His beard was long but not as long as Dumbledore’s. Around the middle of the man’s beard were tied many, many ribbons all in various shades of pink and lavender. At the end of each ribbon was a tiny bell. Each one made a faint melodious sound that could be heard once the man had come close enough.

The whole group turned to him now, noticing his approach. He came forward and greeted Mr. Delacour and then Bill and Mr. Weasley. He turned and nodded to each of them as Mr. Delacour introduced them.

He paused and studied Harry for a long moment, then gave him a deep bow. The man then spoke in French to him and Harry was at a loss at what the man had said to him. He turned to Mr. Delacour, hoping for him to explain.

“Zis ees ze Mage of Matrimony … he ees named Mr. Guillaume Aleume. Eet ees tradition to call him Mage today for ze wedding. He ees a wizard of high rank and ees very old like your Dumbledore,” explained Mr. Delacour. “He says he has ‘eard your name before and offers you greetings. He says he ‘opes for your future and that when you do marry, he sees many children in your eyes,” Mr. Delacour informed.

The twins snickered. “Hear that? Harry’s got children in his eyes,” George proclaimed cheerfully.

“Dad, are we positive that’s where they come from?” Fred asked in mock innocence. “No wonder you and Mum had so many … you were looking each other in the eye too much.”

Harry just stared nervously at the old wizard and tried to not appear as stupid as he felt. He sees children in my eyes?

“Evidently he doesn’t realize I’ve got Voldemort and his Death Eaters out to make sure I never have any children,” Harry whispered to Ron, once the Mage had moved over and had begun speaking quietly with Bill.

After their meeting with the Mage there was not much to do but follow the group around as the Mage spoke with Bill about the wedding. Bill was fairly good with French but sometimes Mr. Delacour had to step in and help translate.

Since they had already gone through a rehearsal of the wedding, most of what the Mage seemed to be saying was basic enough that even Harry understood what was being explained: where to stand, how to do certain things. Ron and Harry found seats in the front row while the Mage instructed Bill up on the little stage.

There was not much for them to do, so a few minutes later they both idly wondered back into the building to find the workers starting to set up food. The twins also seeming bored had decided to follow them inside.

“Merlin’s beard, look at that cake!” Ron uttered in astonishment as out of a side door two wizards levitated the wedding cake. It was a stunning contrivance of eight layers all standing atop each other. It had roses of various colors on it, all perfectly matched to the theme of pinks, purples and gold.

“That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, but hopefully it will taste good,” Ron said and glanced at the others who all seemed astonished by the massive cake.

“Look at the thing on top,” Harry said as the cake floated by them. It was a tiny man and woman kissing, appearing to look like miniature versions of Fleur and Bill. Every so often the little male figure would pick up the little female figure in the white dress, hop on a broom and then zip around the cake.

“I think I’ll have mine trying to run away,” Fred considered.

“I’ll have mine hexing the girl,” George suggested.

“That’s why neither of you are married yet,” the voice of Mrs. Weasley said from the doorway as she entered with Ginny and Hermione directly behind.

“Wow … look at your hair,” Ron announced to his mother.

“MUM … is … is that a bird?” Fred asked suspiciously as she got closer.

“It is a bird!” George announced and snickered.

“Alright you two, it’s just a little one,” Molly complained as she adjusted the little hat on her head that had a tiny bird on top of it. From time to time the little bird would flutter its wings. Mrs. Weasley’s hair was also curled rather impressively.

Hermione’s hair was done up in a neat little bun and at the back she had an elegant arrangement of little white flowers. Ginny’s hair was pulled up away from her face. Her hair spiraled down in the back in large swirls. She had a ring of flowers around her head and at the back of her hair each curl had a colored ribbon tied at the end.

“Don’t they look lovely?” Mrs. Weasley proclaimed as she smiled brightly at Ginny and Hermione. Arthur appeared in the doorway and upon seeing Molly he waved at her. “Oh no dear, don’t let Bill come inside, Fleur is about to enter,” she ordered as she hurried over to him and stopped him from coming inside by forcing him back out the door.

They all turned as Fleur and her family entered; meanwhile Bill was safely escorted away so he would not see her.

Harry could only say that Fleur was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. Her dress was like a lacy white cloud and it flowed about her as if enchanted. The train of the dress was carried by her sister and mother as she entered.

Mr. Delacour had come over and spoke in French to her; Harry was quite sure he was telling his daughter how beautiful she was because a moment later Fleur hugged her father fiercely.

Now that everyone had arrived the main wedding party moved off to a room where they could be comfortable and not be seen by anyone. It seemed like forever to Harry as they sat there waiting. They were able to see out a window and he was told that the people outside could not see inside.

Fleur was able to giggle and watch Bill and comment on how handsome he looked. Ginny rolled her eyes and came over to sit with he and Ron as they waited. They all watched as the guests started taking their seats and soon someone came to the door and entered. It was Mr. Diop.

Suddenly everything seemed to speed up and they were moved down to the doorway. Mr. Diop pulled him and Ginny together and then Ron and Fleur’s friend who was her bridesmaid.

Now that they were outside the sound of music came to Harry’s ear, but he did not get much time to consider it. Ron and Fleur’s friend had to go first and then, with a light push, he and Ginny were sent marching next.

Harry nervously glanced around as they proceeded down the aisle between the lines of chairs. There were so many strange faces but Harry soon found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley along with Hermione and the twins.

The Mage stood smiling in the center beside Bill, who was flanked by Charlie. All were grinning as Ron separated from the bridesmaid to stand on the other side of Charlie. Harry reluctantly did the same with Ginny as he reached the end and stood on the other side of Ron.

Fleur’s sister Gabrielle came next and she walked down the aisle to stand with Ginny. Next to follow was Fleur’s little cousin; the little girl toddled down the aisle and dropped little flower petals gingerly as she walked.

Many of the women guests made a sound that suggested they thought she was adorable. Then many laughed as the little girl seemed to be taking particular care of how she dropped the flowers. The only mistake she seemed to make was stopping and looking back.

Fleur and her father appeared and everyone gave a gasp of awe at the beautiful bride. Harry glanced at Bill and he seemed thunderstruck; his expression was as if Fleur had transformed him somehow into the most noble man there.

Harry looked back towards Fleur and her father as they and the little girl made their way down towards the end of the aisle.

As they reached the end of the aisle, the music stopped and everything became silent. All that could be heard were birds twittering somewhere off in the distance and the sound of a gentle breeze wafting through the trees.

The Mage raised then lowered both his hands and all the guests sat down. He now began to speak in French. Harry had hoped he would be able to understand it; some of it he could, but he simply had to muddle through the rest. He thought that the Mage had just asked Mr. Delacour who was going to give Fleur away. Mr. Delacour answered that he was and then he turned and lifted Fleur’s veil. He kissed his daughter lightly on the cheek as the Mage came forward and took Fleur’s hand.

The Mage led Fleur up to Bill and brought both of them to stand in the middle. Harry took a step forward after Ron and Charlie did; the girls on the other side did likewise. Fleur gave her bouquet of flowers over to her sister and then clasped her hands together with Bill’s.

The Mage began to speak again and used his hand to indicate Fleur and her side of the room where most of her family sat. Then he indicated Bill and his side of the room where pretty much everyone appeared to be from England, Harry was sure.

Harry thought the Mage might have been saying something about unity and bringing people together; at least that is what he guessed. There was a brief pause again and, just as the Mage began to speak again, a commotion was heard at the rear of the seating area. A group of three men walked into view as if they owned the place. Everyone looked over to see who the late arrivals were. The Mage stopped speaking and stared over at the men and appeared slightly annoyed.

Harry did a double-take when he realized who it was. He had not thought of Viktor Krum for a very long time; now here he was with two friends. Viktor appeared very much the same except a little older, and perhaps a bit more intimidating because he was scowling in an unhappy manner.

Viktor appeared to mutter something that Harry could not hear and then he and his friends gave a nod of apology towards Fleur and Bill. The three moved to find empty seats in the crowd of people gathered. After they had settled themselves, the Mage cleared his throat to draw everyone’s attention back to him.

The Mage began to speak again in French so Harry had to try and understand by listening and catching a word here or there that he knew. Harry glanced sideways during this time and noticed that Ron was scowling unpleasantly towards Viktor.

Harry wondered if Hermione still wrote to Viktor, so he looked over to where she sat in the crowd. He could not tell what she thought about Viktor being here at the wedding, since she appeared very caught up in what the Mage was saying.

A flash of light caught Harry’s attention and he turned back to see the Mage was holding his wand over Fleur and Bill’s hands. A thin cord of magic had appeared and wrapped itself around the couple’s entwined hands.

Harry now watched the Mage as he seemed to be directing a question to Fleur. Whatever the question was, she agreed. The Mage then directed what sounded like the same question to Bill and he also agreed. The Mage made another statement and from his wand again a thin cord of magic appeared and wrapped itself around Fleur and Bill’s hands.

The Mage began to speak to the assembled group and made another wide motion with both of his hands. When he had finished he turned to Charlie and held out a free hand. Charlie in turn presented the Mage with two silver rings.

The Mage took them and studied them for a few moments carefully; he brought them up close to his face and then smiled and nodded. He turned and moved to the small table behind him and dropped both rings into a silver goblet.

He waved his wand over the goblet and muttered a few hushed words. A bright flame of fire shot up out of the cup and then disappeared as if it had never been there. He turned back towards Fleur and Bill and, after a moment of silence, the Mage lifted the cup and turned both rings out into his hand. He held out the appropriate ring to each of them and the couple took them from his hand.

Harry watched as Fleur went first; she slipped the ring onto Bill’s finger and stared up into Bill’s eyes with a warm and loving devotion. The Mage spoke and Fleur repeated to Bill each thing he said.

Bill went next and did the exact same thing, repeating the Mage’s words back to Fleur. The Mage spoke once more to the group and a few giggles could be heard in the crowd. Harry realized why when Bill moved forward and took Fleur into his arms and proceeded to kiss her quite passionately.

Charlie and Ron snickered and Harry smiled as Fleur and Bill broke apart, both laughing with an infectious joy. The Mage spoke one more time and Harry could understand what was said rather well this time.

“Mesdames, messieurs, j’ai l’honneur de vous présenter les nouveaux mariés, Monsieur et Madame Weasley,” the Mage announced. Harry understood this to mean, “I should like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Bill Weasley.”

The guests burst forth in happy applause and loud cheers; Bill and Fleur proceeded back down the aisle, hand in hand. The remainder of the wedding party fell into place behind them. When Harry came up beside Ginny, he could see that there were tears in her eye that had not fallen; her eyes sparkled in the afternoon light as they followed along the aisle.

Harry also noticed when he glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that Molly was dabbing at her eyes as Arthur had one arm around her shoulders. The twins gave Harry a thumbs-up as he and Ginny passed; Harry shook his head as he went on following the rest of the group back inside to the reception area.

Fleur and Bill stood near the entrance of the reception hall. They greeted each person as they entered and were swarmed with handshakes, hugs and kisses from friends and family.

The rest of the wedding party formed a line and begin filling their plates. Meanwhile Bill and Fleur spoke with the guests who continued to fill the room.

Harry followed behind Ron and Ginny as they each moved along the table that held the food. As they selected things to put on their plates, Harry noticed that Ron had stopped and was staring back at the end of the line.

“Ron, wake up, you’re making everyone complain behind us,” Ginny said impatiently and gave her brother a little nudge.

Ron mumbled something about a pumpkin head and then moved on. Harry glanced back at the line where Ron had been glaring; he realized why Ron had made that remark about pumpkins. In the section of the line he was staring at stood the twins, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Along with that group, Viktor Krum had maneuvered himself into the line next to Hermione; the two stood chatting together in a very friendly manner.

Once they were through the line, Harry, Ginny and Ron all sat at the table designated for the wedding party. There did not seem to be so much ceremony about eating and, since everyone else had started, they went ahead and began as well.

Soon Fleur and Bill and all their guests were seated and enjoying the meal. Everyone was talking and chatting together so the room filled with a familiar murmur that reminded Harry pleasantly of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

Ron kept glancing over at the table where Hermione was seated with the twins and Viktor and his friends. Ron muttered something about, ‘she could have come over here and sat with us’. Ginny whispered in reply, ‘no, she couldn’t - she’s not in the wedding party.’

Harry stared at Ron with worry when Hermione laughed at something the twins and Viktor were saying. Harry was sure Ron was going to explode right there at the table. Instead Ron glared down at the food on his plate and ate it with vicious bites.

After everyone seemed to have finished eating, Bill and Fleur stood up and went over to the grand wedding cake. A big show was made of them cutting the cake and sharing it with each other. It seemed to be part of the ceremony for them to make a mess of it; everyone laughed as Fleur plastered some of the frosting on Bill’s cheek. Giggles filled the hall when she kissed it off his cheek neatly.

The cake was cut up and passed out among the guests and much fuss was now made into taking photos of Bill and Fleur and then everyone in the wedding party. Harry did not get much chance to enjoy his bit of cake because the whole wedding group was hurried outside to take photos.

Harry never knew one could take so many pictures of the same thing: Bill and his parents together; Fleur and Bill’s parents together; Bill and Fleur and his parents; then the same photos with Fleur’s parents. This was followed by photos of the females in the wedding party and then photos of the males in the wedding party. Next the photographer wanted Fleur and just the males, then Bill and just the females.

It seemed to go on endlessly and it was quite a boring event; even Bill and Fleur began to lose patience with it and seemed to want to head back inside.

Eventually the photo montage was over and they all hastened back inside where many of the tables had been moved aside and space had been made to allow dancing. Harry had not even thought about the dancing and he watched nervously as some musicians entered and set up in one corner of the room.

Before the music began though, Mr. Delacour moved into the center of the room accompanied by his wife. Glasses were handed out and a mass of waiters moved around the room pouring wine for everyone.

Mr. Delacour beckoned Bill and Fleur forward to join him and then he proceeded to say something to the whole crowd in French. He translated it in English as. “To my beloved first daughter, I hope zat your years with Bill will be as wonderful as zey have been for me with your mother. To Bill, I wish for you to be like a son for me and to know that I see in you the man I always hoped for, for my daughter.”

Everyone in the room lifted their glass and Harry imitated the action; then they all took a sip of the wine.

At this point other people began to offer toasts to the bride and groom, some in French, some in English. Molly gave a tearful speech about Bill, her first baby, and how happy she was for them but at the same time only a mother could understand the bittersweet moment. Even Mrs. Delacour seemed moved by Molly’s words and lifted her glass to Mrs. Weasley in approval.

This serious speech was broken by the twins’ funny toast about Bill’s stuffed bear possibly making an appearance sometime later tonight, but thankfully they were not vulgar and even praised Fleur, welcoming her most graciously into the family. Even Molly was proud of them and their toast seemed to brighten the mood of everyone.

Once the toasts were over, the music began and Bill and Fleur took the first dance. Everyone watched as the happy couple glided across the dance floor as if they were one person.

Mr. Delacour soon cut in and danced with his daughter and Bill quickly snagged up Mrs. Delacour for a dance. Then everyone seemed to move out on the dance floor and the room soon filled with waltzing couples.

Harry stood a bit awkwardly and it was then that he noticed the woman from the French Ministry heading towards him; he could not for the life of him remember her name right now. He was quite sure she was going to drag him out on the dance floor and he shied behind a group of people watching the dancers.

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him along and fear bubbled up in him. However, when he looked he saw it was Ginny who had hold of him. Relief washed over him but then he realized she was dragging him out onto the dance floor.

“Ginny … I … umm…”

“I saw that woman coming for you … and I’m not going to let her have the first dance with you,” Ginny proclaimed cheerfully as she turned to stand in front of him as other couples moved about them.

“I’m not very good, you know, at this,” he said timidly as he watched one of the twins dance by, making a comment of, ‘Come on, Potter, shake a leg.’

“It’s not so hard, Harry … really it’s not. Just imagine this is a Quidditch field and I’m the Snitch,” she said playfully and was grinning at him in the most devious way.

“You’re the Snitch, hmm,” he replied and his mouth twitched up on one side without him meaning it to. “Alright, Miss Snitch,” he teased and moved forward to take her hand.

Thankfully her advice did help a little, or at least it made him feel more comfortable. He technically let her lead though and was thankful that she seemed a very good and capable dancer.

Once the music paused they moved off the dance floor and had some delicious punch to refresh themselves.

“Oh not again,” Ginny muttered under her breath. At first Harry was sure one of those French girls was coming forward to take him out on the dance floor. He looked on in the direction Ginny was peering and he saw it wasn’t that at all - it was Ron and Hermione. They looked very much as if they were arguing.

Harry started to move forward towards them, to at least break it up, but Ginny grabbed his arm again and pulled him back. Hermione then threw up her hands and pointed at Ron somewhat aggressively. She turned and marched to the door and exited the building in a huff, pushing past a couple also headed outside. Ron strode after her, seeming to not be through with the argument and intent on following her.

“Shouldn’t we try to calm them down?” Harry asked worriedly.

“I know why he’s mad at her - because she was talking to Viktor,” Ginny said with a sigh.

“Maybe I should have a word with Ron,” Harry suggested but Ginny shook her head.

“I think we should just stay out of it; no amount of talking has done any good so far. I even told Ron to lay off her, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He just ignored me and went after her,” Ginny stated in a huffy tone. “I think if those two are ever going to work things out between them, they should just do it themselves,” she added.

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry considered and stared in the direction Ron and Hermione had gone.

“Ron’s just being bull-headed. He really likes Hermione, but he’s too much of a chicken to actually say it,” Ginny complained.

“Well, you girls are scary,” Harry countered with a mischievous grin in her direction. Ginny just cut him a devious expression and took his hand hastily to drag him towards the dance floor again. He realized why when he saw another young woman staring at him longingly.

“And you females seem to have eyes in the back of your head. I’m lucky if I can get the two I’ve got to work properly,” Harry joked. Ginny laughed happily as they moved out on the dance floor. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about other females hounding him tonight, Ginny seemed quite capable of keeping them at bay. He was altogether happy with that and he realized at that moment he was definitely a one-woman man.



Many, many hours later it was well into the night. Truthfully it was early morning when the group arrived back at the Delacour Manor. The twins were a bit tipsy as they exited the carriage and Arthur and Charlie had to both take one apiece and stagger with them into the house.

Molly and Mrs. Delacour had at some point become best of friends and walked into the house together seeming quite cheerful. Ron and Hermione seemed to still be giving each other a cold shoulder and walked into the house without saying anything to each other.

Ginny walked slowly along with Harry as they entered. Everyone else headed upstairs and he stood in the foyer with Ginny quietly for a few moments. Slowly the house grew quiet and everyone else disappeared from sight into the upper floors of the darkened house.

“Did Percy come … I don’t think I saw him?” Harry asked with a yawn, a bit curious as to whether Percy was even invited.

“No, and Bill was very hurt that he didn‘t… maybe he’ll grow up,” Ginny said and also yawned. “I don’t understand Percy and why he’s so angry with us. He should know better,” she complained and stared at him with an expression of worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing the frown and downward glance in her eye as she fidgeted a bit with her bouquet of flowers. Harry looked down at them and it seemed a few had started to wither and even one or two had fallen off somewhere along the way.

“This … couple of days has been wonderful. It’s been almost like there is no war,” she responded softly. “Now we have to go back and …”

She stopped herself, seeming to not want to give voice to the fears she might be feeling.

Harry moved forward and placed a hand on either side of her face. “Whatever happens, Ginny … I … you know how I feel, don’t you? You do know?” he insisted.

She nodded, he could see that her eyes welled up and sparked with tears. He hugged and squeezed her tightly in the embrace. She in return wrapped her arms around him and pressed him just as tightly.

“When it’s all over, we can let everyone else know,” he said into her hair. She nodded, her head now pressed down onto his shoulder.

She pulled back to stare up into his eyes and a moment later they were kissing. The only thing that eventually broke them apart was the sound of Mr. Weasley clearing his throat.

They both pulled away from each other hastily and looked up at him somewhat sheepishly. He came halfway down the stairs and paused to simply stare at them. It was very awkward and Harry had trouble meeting Mr. Weasley’s eye as he came down the rest of the way.

“Best be off to bed now, we’ll be heading home in the morning,” Arthur said. Ginny moved forward and he waved his hand for her to go on upstairs. As Harry got ready to pass, Arthur stopped him. Ginny also paused.

“Go on dear, Harry and I will be up in a moment,” Arthur said in a firm tone; there was no question in his voice that suggested she should argue.

“Goodnight, Harry, Dad,” Ginny said gently and then proceeded on up the stairs. Once Ginny was gone, Arthur turned back to study Harry with a steady gaze. A long moment of silence fell between them and Harry felt the full pressure of a father guarding his daughter.

“Harry, maybe I should not ask you about this … but I would like to know the answer,” Arthur began as he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “My daughter is extremely precious to me, but you must recognize what danger there is in showing these emotions,” he stated.

“Yes, sir … Ginny and I spoke about it already,” Harry answered.

“Don’t let this get in the way of your duty. We have a lot to accomplish when we return home. If it were up to me, I’d ferry you all away to somewhere safe. Trouble is … there is no place safe from You-Know-Who, especially for you and my family,” Arthur expressed, a very evident touch of sadness in his voice. “If I could spare you children this danger, this trouble … I would do everything I could if that were possible,” he added with a great sigh as he patted Harry on the shoulder in an affectionate manner.

“I care for Ginny, sir … I want to do what’s right by her,” Harry replied.

Mr. Weasley studied Harry’s face a moment and then nodded, giving Harry a brief winning smile.

“Let’s be up to bed now, we are heading home in the morning. France seems quite nice compared to what we have to return to … but … someone has to deal with this evil, and why not us?” Arthur said in a cheerful manner as he tugged Harry along towards the stairs.

Soon Harry was in bed, listening to the twins and Ron snore as he tried to get to sleep. He knew sleep would evade him for a while but he was glad he had been able to share a wonderful few days with his friends. He realized that he was very lucky, because he knew he might never get this opportunity again. From now on he was going to seize all the chances he could to be happy. Who knew when those opportunities might all run out?



It was a few days later when Harry and the Weasleys made their way to Diagon Alley for the inevitable show they were planning to put on for the masses.

Everyone was watching them as they made their way down the street. Harry felt awkward and uncomfortable from the first moment they proceeded down the crowded area. Most people seemed in a hurry and it was odd how many were jumpy to begin with. Wizards and witches alike seemed to become even more agitated once they saw Harry and his group walking along.

People were staring at him, but when he would look, they would quickly pretend they were not. Some people acted completely irrationally, as if Harry and the Weasleys had some horrible illness. These individuals would hurry away, seeming to believe that at any moment Voldemort would jump out and curse them for being near Harry and his friends.

At least Harry did not have to worry about how to draw attention to what they had planned: he was already a magnet for everyone’s interest just by being there.

As planned, Hermione and Ron went down to the twins’ shop to wait. Harry and Ginny chose the most crowded shop they could find and entered. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley pretended to window shop as they made their way down to the twins’ shop.

After a couple of minutes of walking around the shop, Ginny started the little act they had prepared. Harry had to admit even to himself, she was very believable. People inside the shop pretended to ignore them, but Harry could tell that everyone inside was glued to every word he and Ginny were saying.

Ginny started off by commenting on his glasses and suggesting he should buy a new pair. Then she said that he should cut his hair differently and that he should buy some new clothing. Finally she began to ask him to buy her things in the store.

When, as practiced, he said no to all of her suggestions and finally no to buying her things, Ginny put on a show of being angry. She pouted rather prettily, Harry thought and he almost wanted to grin at her. However, he composed himself and kept a very stern expression throughout it all.

“I don’t know why you can’t buy something for me; you have loads of money,” Ginny proclaimed in a huffy tone.

“If I keep spending it, I’ll not have loads anymore, will I?” he replied coolly, doing his best impression of indifference. He had Snape to thank for this imitation and he realized by people’s expression in the shop that he had pulled it off rather well.

“Well, you’re not a very good date,” she complained loudly so everyone would hear.

“I didn’t know this was a date. You’re just my friend’s little sister, after all,” Harry stated. He felt terrible for saying it, even though he knew this was fake.

“That’s a horrible thing to say to me! Who wants to go out with you anyway, Harry penny-pinching Potter!” she cried dramatically and tossed down a scarf that she had been holding. She marched to the door and out of it without looking back.

Even though they had rehearsed this when they got home from France, the words still stung. He hoped he would never hear Ginny speak this way to him. He strode after her and proceeded to the next bit of show they were going to put on; the final act, the twins had called it.

Ginny had already caught up with her parents outside of Fred and George’s shop. If anyone had not been watching before, they were certainly paying attention now as Harry hurried after Ginny. Ron and Hermione were leaving the shop and the twins were standing in the doorway as if to greet their parents and sister. Ginny was already explaining rather loudly what had just happened between her and Harry.

The twins stood at the door and were staring at Harry quite unhappily once he had reached the group.

“Now, now, we should not bicker like this,” Mr. Weasley announced.

“You could have bought Ginny a present, Harry,” Hermione stated.

“Why should I buy her a present? I’m not made of money you know!” he replied angrily.

“You don’t have to bite my head off,” she said coolly. Nobody else said anything for a moment and Hermione had to give Ron a bump with her elbow for the act to continue.

“Yeah … er … you’ve got no cause to yell at Hermione,” Ron snapped, sounding a little rehearsed at first.

“Our parents aren’t made of money either, you know,” Fred announced.

“Yeah, with you scrounging off them,” Fred commented in a cold tone. “You should at least buy our sister a gift to thank them for letting you stay,” he added.

“Scrounging?” Harry muttered in a voice filled with defense.

“Now children, no more fighting,” Mrs. Weasley said, trying to calm the situation.

“Why would he kiss me, Mum, if he didn’t want me as his girlfriend?” Ginny asked all of a sudden.

“What!” Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both exclaimed in unison, as if shocked and horrified by this revelation.

“See here, have you been making moves on our little sister?” George snapped and moved forward as if he were going to confront Harry physically.

“Yeah, I snogged her,” Harry answered boldly. A few people around gasped, including Mrs. Weasley.

“Apologize to Ginny,” Ron said sharply, not sounding rehearsed now.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” Harry cried, his tone filled with frustration.

“We can’t have this kind of … situation … under our roof!” Mr. Weasley insisted, sounding very much like an angry father.

“Shhh … Arthur, this is scandalous!” Mrs. Weasley said and grabbed Arthur’s arm, at the same time glancing around fearfully at the people watching them.

“My family is already in danger because of all this and now you take advantage of my daughter!” Mr. Weasley snapped as loudly as possible. “You will apologize to Ginny and to the rest of us,” he ordered and used his best gaze of authority on Harry, who was quite impressed with this fierce expression.

“I have nothing to apologize for,” Harry answered flatly.

“Then you will leave my house immediately,” Arthur growled.

The entire Weasley family gasped as one, and so did everyone in the crowd around them.

“Fine, I don’t need your … protection,” Harry choked out. His guts had all of a sudden given a great leap - he knew this was it. He shot Ginny a pained glance and then Hermione and Ron. They all were trying to appear angry with him but Harry saw a solitary tear slip down Hermione’s cheek. He did not look at Ginny again; he could not, it hurt too much.

He longed to tell them goodbye and hug them, but he knew he could not. He had to turn and march away without looking back. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do.


Harry made his way resolutely back to the Burrow to collect his things; he was struck by how quiet and lonely the house was with nobody else about. Harry shook those depressive thoughts aside - he had work to do, so he made himself busy and began to pack.

He was about to make his first journey that would truly be his own - no friends or mentors, just him. Mr. Weasley had suggested to him the previous night that he should travel as lightly as possible. On the way back from France Harry had considered that, even before Mr. Weasley’s sound advice. He had bought a very nice canvas bag large enough to pack his essential items in, things he would need for the trip.

He stood in Ron’s room going over his bag and making sure he had not forgotten anything. Mr. Weasley had also suggested that if the Portkey was taking him a great distance then Harry should be sure to secure his items very firmly. He did not want to lose anything important while using the Portkey. Even though Mr. Weasley had no idea where Harry was going, he got the notion that Mr. Weasley suspected it was a long distance.

Once he closed the bag, he hooked it over his shoulder and made his way out of the Weasleys’ home. He found his way to a secluded spot near the Burrow. Harry remembered coming here before to play Quidditch with Ron and the twins. A hint of nervousness fluttered in his stomach now that it was time to use the Portkey.

Harry removed his glasses and placed them inside the large canvas bag. Then he placed his wand inside as well; he certainly did not want to lose that on the journey. He secured the bag onto his body and made sure it would not fall off, no matter what sort of ride this Portkey had in store for him.

What would happen if he let go of the Portkey? Would he fall off into the ocean? He cringed inwardly at the thought of what the Daily Prophet headlines would be: ‘Harry Potter lost at sea, the Dark Lord now rules the world’.

Harry scowled at the box the Portkey was in and moved over to an old tree stump. He sat the box down on it and then scanned the area cautiously. He had the odd feeling that someone was watching him, but he saw nobody about. He mentally told himself to get a grip, but with the war now he was sure Voldemort would not mind too much if he were easily caught off guard. He knew he had to be extra careful, especially when traveling alone.

He shook himself and again checked his bag to be sure everything was secure. He carefully opened the box and stared down at the Portkey with trepidation. He decided in those couple of moments staring at it that he should grab it firmly with both hands. So, without any further delay, he took a deep breath, reached out and grasped the Portkey.