Four Weddings & A Funeral

By lunchtime of that day, Professor Dumbledore was once more in his office at Hogwarts, having returned from the Burrow with Molly and Arthur Weasley (as he'd known he would) who'd gone straight to the Hospital Wing to see their daughter.

Professor Snape had been awaiting his return to advise him that Draco Malfoy had also arrived earlier with his mother and was assisting her to settle into her new home - a small suite of rooms near those of Professor Snape's own. He went on to tell the Headmaster that Narcissa Malfoy seemed to have accepted the move to Hogwarts without complaint or question.

'Malfoy,' the Potions Master continued, 'did say that his mother was probably happy to come here due mainly to her "happy preoccupation" as he put it, with the return of her roses. I assume you know to what he's referring, Headmaster,' he said, the look on his face making it very plain that he disapproved of being kept in the dark. 'I also believe that the Weasley's daughter has taken up residence in the Hospital Wing,' he added, with a sharp sniff of distaste.

'I'm sorry, Severus, I haven't really had adequate time to explain the current situation to you. Please, sit down,' replied Dumbledore politely who, before sitting himself, walked to the perch on which sat his magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stroking the beautiful bird and speaking to it in quiet undertones.

With the sour look on his face lessening just a little, but only a little, the Head of Slytherin sat down and listened intently while his Headmaster told him briefly what had occurred to bring about the current situation. Dumbledore finished by commenting that Mrs Malfoy might not remain in her current state and that once she recovered from her initial joy at having her possessions returned to her, it was possible she would return to her previous state or something close to it. He then asked Snape to assure Malfoy that everything possible would be done to help his mother should this occur.

As his Potions Master left his office, Dumbledore turned his attention to the neatly arrayed parchments on his desk. One each from Harry and Hermione, Ron and Luna and Neville, assuring him they would be at Hogwarts that evening as requested. Dean and Ginny and Molly and Arthur had already given their verbal assurances. Good, he thought, we'll be able to discuss a few important issues tonight. He turned to look around at the portraits in his office, the occupants of which were gazing patiently back at him. With a small smile, he stood up and began to walk around the room. 'There is something I need to know, something I have to find out,' he told them, 'something I need you all to work on for me...'

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While the Headmaster conferred with the occupants of the paintings in his office, Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting beside their daughter's bed, listening to a detailed recitation of the events that had led to her being there. Throughout this, Dean was seated beside Ginny on the bed, holding her hand, doing most of the talking while still encouraging Ginny to speak as often as he could. His presence seemed to help her immensely.

Dean had spent most of the early hours of the morning before the arrival of her parents reassuring Ginny that he loved her and did not hold her in any way responsible for her actions while under the influence of the Malfoy roses. Ginny knew he was telling her the truth, but it didn't seem to lessen the guilt she felt.

'Ginny, the feeling of guilt will go as you realise that you aren't responsible for the things that happened!'

Ginny shook her head, but Dean was so unrelenting that she eventually gave in, unable to argue against him in the face of his determination and love. She tucked the guilt away in a corner of her heart, hoping it would dissipate over time.

They were lying on top of her bed, arms around each other, both feeling exhausted. Ginny's voice trembled as she spoke. 'Dean, I don't feel I deserve you - your love, your forgiveness, your acceptance -'

'Sssh,' said Dean softly. 'You deserve everything I can give you.'

Ginny felt tears come to her eyes. 'I love you, so very, very much,' she whispered. 'I can't wait to be married to you.'

During their discussions that morning, they'd decided to go ahead with their wedding as planned. Dean had told Ginny it was entirely up to her - that they could postpone it until she felt better able to cope, but Ginny was adamant she would be fine and insisted on sticking to their original plans.

Dean had left when he and Ginny had finished filling her parents in; he knew they'd want some time alone with their daughter.

He was wandering through the castle, drawing curious glances from the few students that either hadn't gone outdoors to enjoy the beautiful weather or had perhaps gone to the library; it felt rather strange to be wandering around Hogwarts once more. Turning the corner into a deserted corridor, he froze in his tracks as Draco Malfoy appeared at the opposite end.

Dean's hands immediately clenched into fists and he felt every muscle in his body tense. Malfoy was walking towards him with his hands in his pockets, head down, and didn't see him straight away. Halfway along the corridor, Malfoy slowly looked up, stopping in his tracks at the sight of Dean. The two men stood and stared at each other for endless seconds, then Malfoy turned and walked back the way he'd come.

Fury burst from Dean. Whilst he had all the patience in the world for his deeply-loved fiancée, anything to do with this wizard tapped hidden depths of disgust and hatred within him, his voice holding all this and more as it reverberated from the stone walls. 'Malfoy you filthy bastard! If I ever find out you've so much as looked at my fiancée again I will kill you!'

Malfoy's steps faltered, but he didn't turn around, hesitating only briefly before he continued walking away.

Dean took a step forward, then forced himself to stop although he wanted more than anything to physically attack the tall, blonde wizard striding away from him. He'd never known such a feeling in his life and so it was no wonder it took him a minute to recognise it for what it was: the desire to kill.

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Malfoy returned to his mother's rooms feeling rattled by the encounter with Dean Thomas. He resolved in future to take whatever steps were necessary to avoid such contact in the future. Thomas had wanted to kill him - he could see it in his eyes, even from that distance. And as driven as he was, he'd no doubt been perfectly capable of doing so in that moment.

'Draco! You're back!' His mother's voice drifted happily from the small kitchen and he walked towards the sound.

Malfoy felt the familiar sadness overtake him as he stopped in the doorway. His mother was happier but nevertheless, still not herself. He wondered if she would ever truly be herself again. He had hopes that Dumbledore would be able to get to the bottom of her malady, especially now she had her roses back.

As he sat and listed to his mother's prattle, he became aware of thoughts that had been simmering below the surface for some time now, thoughts he'd refused to acknowledge due to their nature; however, such things can't be pushed aside forever.

And so, as Draco Malfoy sat there in that small kitchen with his mother's voice washing over him, he realised that he was probably doomed to love Ginevra Weasley until the day he died and that there was no hope, ever, of her feeling anything for him now except hatred. His father, too, hated him and wanted him dead. He glanced at his mother who was busy making something at the kitchen sink, although he wasn't sure what; she loved him. But she wasn't the mother he'd always known - she'd been altered by various events and circumstances, the least of which was his father. And he wasn't even sure how much longer she would survive. And here he was, taking refuge at Hogwarts of all places...As he contemplated all this, it came to him in that moment that perhaps it would have been better, and easier, if he'd turned around in that corridor and let Thomas do his worst...

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Harry and Hermione were sitting at their small, round kitchen table, enjoying a wonderful meal of something they rarely ate: take away pizza.

After completing their "unfinished business" that morning they'd taken a lovingly leisurely shower, sent Hedwig off to Hogwarts with a note telling Dumbledore they would be there that evening and feeling ravenous, had rung and ordered pizza from the nearby Pizza Parlour.

Once their hunger was sated, Harry stood and held out his hand to Hermione, his expression now serious.

'Let's go talk,' he said quietly.

Putting her hand in his, Hermione nodded as she stood and they walked, hand in hand, to the lounge room. Hermione sat on the couch but Harry chose to stand, his back to the fireplace, his hands pushed into his jeans pockets.

Hermione looked at Harry, standing there, his eternally messy fringe hanging in front of his face as he looked down at his feet. He looked so vulnerable and adorable and just plain bloody sexy she wondered if she'd be able to keep her mind on what he said.

Harry took a quick look at Hermione sitting on the sofa and wanted nothing more than to go and sit beside her, pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her. Before kissing her. A lot. As his gaze strayed to her soft lips, he saw them move...

'Tell me, Harry,' she said.

So he did.

He told her how the idea for a charm to keep her safe had first come to him after she'd been kidnapped, springing from his distress and devastation at losing her. He'd known from the first that Dumbledore would have to be involved. He took her back to the night they'd returned home after he'd rescued her from the two Death Eaters, Jugson and Mulciber...

//(The italics in the following paragraphs are edited excerpts from Chapter 15 of "Day by Day")//

//Hermione turned in his arms to face him, her arms sliding around his neck, then kissed him. As their lips parted, Harry said, 'You better run along and have your shower before I ravish you and I'll go and see what I can come up with for dinner at such short notice. I'm rather hungry too, now.'//

'Remember how you went and had a shower while I made us something to eat?' Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. 'And I remember you hadn't eaten...'

//Hermione gave him an appraising look. 'What have you eaten since - well, yesterday morning?' she asked him.

He looked at her thoughtfully. 'Actually, nothing, now I come to think of it.'

Sadness filled Hermione's eyes as she looked at him. 'Oh, Harry - I had to try not to think of what you were going through because it was just too awful - there was no way I could let you know I was all right; I felt so powerless!'//

Hermione's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked up at Harry. 'I remember that awful feeling I had because I couldn't let you know I was alive and not hurt - I knew you'd be worried - and I was powerless to do anything!'

Harry's eyes closed briefly, Hermione's heart aching at the pain she'd glimpsed in them.

'I'll never forget what that was like ... wondering if you were dead ...'

//'I don't ever want to go through anything like that again,' Harry said quietly. 'I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. This has all been far worse than the night Sirius died when I thought you were dead too.'//

'I think perhaps that's when the seed was planted," Harry continued. 'While I made our dinner, I began to think of ways I could protect you - ways I could get to you, help you, anytime and anywhere.'

'I can see why, Harry. I remember thinking about how I probably wouldn't cope if anything happened to you.'

//She pressed closer against him, bringing her hand up to cover his, squeezing it gently. 'I feel the same Harry - I can't bear to even contemplate what I would do if anything happened to you.'//

'I don't worry about me,' said Harry, giving her a wry smile. 'No Voldemort after me any longer.'

//'Nothing's going to happen to me, not anymore,' he told her before kissing her again.

Then Hermione smiled and said, 'And I promise not to go and get myself kidnapped again!'//

'And do you remember telling me - promising me - that you wouldn't get yourself kidnapped again?' Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. 'But just because Voldemort's gone, Harry, doesn't mean there aren't wizards out there who wouldn't take any opportunity offered to hurt you - or kill you. The only thing that stops them is the fact that none of them would stand a chance against you and they know it.'

Harry's eyes locked onto hers. 'Exactly. But I'm still vulnerable Hermione. There's nothing stopping them using my friends to get at me, the people I love, the woman I love - especially the woman I love. You mean more to me than anyone in the world. They know I'd do anything to keep you safe. So they do stand a chance against me, my love. And they know it.'

The intensity of Harry's gaze was mesmerising. In that moment, Hermione understood completely what had motivated Harry to do what he'd done.

Harry slowly closed and opened his eyes before he continued. 'So you see, it was that first night you were home I started thinking about what I could do so that it couldn't happen again. I wasn't going to allow anything or anyone to take you away from me. I'd actually discussed some form of protection with Dumbledore earlier and after that, I was determined to act on it.'

Harry went on to explain how he and Dumbledore had worked on the Cautus Contego Charm after he'd managed to convince their old Headmaster it was the only way that he, Harry, could be certain she'd be safe. ('Only you could've talked Dumbledore into such a thing, I'm sure,' commented Hermione.)

Harry appeared to be thinking out aloud as he spoke of being overwhelmed by the desire to keep her safe above all else, without considering the consequences. Her safety was all that mattered. In his mind, any means to that end were justified by the goal alone. Hermione became aware of the heights - and depths - of Harry's desperation after the kidnapping.

As he spoke, Harry himself realised that he'd become locked onto a goal with only a single vision and that vision, whilst it was for Hermione's safety, didn't involve Hermione herself. The only thing he'd been capable of seeing, understanding and wanting was Hermione's safety. Without reference to Hermione herself.

Because she was in the unique position of knowing intimately what was behind Harry's mindset together with her long history with Harry, Hermione had insight not possible for anyone else.

And so, when Harry reached the end - when he painfully relived the moment Hermione had asked him what it was he was keeping from her and he'd known that he'd gone about his mission the wrong way - he took a deep, shaky breath, reliving the pain of that night and the nights that followed.

'And you reached for the Ogden's?' asked Hermione softly.

Harry gave her a very crooked smile. 'You have no idea,' he replied dryly. He shook his head. 'I find it hard to believe now, but I just knocked myself out each night - otherwise I know I wouldn't've been able to sleep. I kept reliving how it was when they had you - what they might be doing to you - that I couldn't get to you, couldn't help you - how powerless I felt!' He shuddered at the memories being invoked.

Hermione stood up and went to him, putting her arms around him - just holding him. Harry's arms wrapped around her slender frame as he dropped his head, burying his face in her hair. They remained like that for some time, words no longer necessary.

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They were all there.

Harry and Hermione. Ron and Luna. Arthur and Molly. Ginny and Dean. Neville and Priscilla.

Priscilla had been both frightened and excited and not a little awestruck at being invited to attend a meeting with the most famous Head of Hogwarts; Neville told her Dumbledore had assured him it was all right to bring her since she was so close to him.

Neville's hand closed over Priscilla's and squeezed gently. Priscilla threw him a small, grateful smile before turning her attention back to the old wizard.

The Professor stood behind his desk, his thumbs hooked in the edge of what would be lapels on a Muggle man, as he looked at them over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'Thank you all for coming this evening,' he told them. 'As you can all see, Miss Weasley is doing quite well.' All eyes turned momentarily to Ginny, smiles on their faces; soft colour stole into her cheeks as she glanced down feeling somewhat embarrassed, but smiling a little nonetheless. Dean, who was holding her hand, gave it an encouraging squeeze.

'I believe,' continued the Professor, dropping his chin and looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles at them with a smile, 'that there will still be a wedding on the appointed date.'

As every eye came back to rest on Ginny and Dean, Dean smiled and nodded. 'Yes, Ginny says she's up to it, so the wedding's going ahead as planned.' Arthur and Molly had known this, of course, and the rest of those present all made it quite clear they approved of this decision.

Dumbledore smiled happily down at them and said, 'Yes, yes, Miss Weasley is feeling quite a bit better now, I think. I also believe congratulations are in order for Mr Weasley and Miss Lovegood.' There was a low level cheer from everyone as Ron and Luna smiled happily at each other. 'You'll be kept busy, Molly, Arthur,' Dumbledore twinkled at them.

'For happy reasons, Albus, the best kind,' said Arthur, putting his arm across his wife's shoulder as he turned to smile at her affectionately.

'And of course, Mr Potter and Miss Granger,' the Professor's voice sounding smugly satisfied as he spoke, one arm sweeping across to indicate Harry and Hermione as he beamed at them, 'yet another loving couple heading for the altar, so to speak!'

As the last of the quiet laughter that ensued died down, everyone turned to look expectantly at Neville and Priscilla, wondering what the Headmaster's comment about them would be.

'Mr Longbottom, Miss Laycock and yourself seem to be immune to the epidemic currently raging through your group of friends.' Dumbledore smiled wickedly at Neville who surprised the old wizard when he winked slowly in answer.

Priscilla had dropped her head so that her dark hair fell forward, hiding her face which was now quite an interesting shade of red. 'Well, not really...' began Neville, pride mixed with concern for Priscilla in his tone. There was instant silence as nine pairs of eyes fixed themselves on his face. Neville found himself suddenly overcome with embarrassment under their scrutiny. 'I - we - well, that is, I did - '

'We're engaged,' said Priscilla softly, glancing shyly up at Neville who couldn't help but smile widely at his beautiful fiancée.

It was a good ten minutes before peace and quiet was restored although there was tangible sense of excitement in the air.

'Four weddings, hmmm?' murmured Dumbledore who was now seated, leaning forward to rest his arms on his desk and smiling at them all. 'You will all be very busy in the months to come. Not too busy, I hope, that you forget danger remains. Lucius Malfoy is still at large and we don't as yet know what it is he is planning.'

Everyone sat quietly, wondering what the Professor would say next. All felt it was far more pleasant dwelling on engagements and weddings and such like...

Looking at them over his spectacles once again, Dumbledore commented wryly, 'Feeling a little disgruntled? I don't blame you. Joyous occasions are far more pleasant to dwell upon. However-' the Professor got to his feet once more and walked around to the front of his desk before continuing. '-I'm aware you would rather not think about such things as Lucius Malfoy and danger - but to ignore these things will not cause them to evaporate, unfortunately, however much we wish they would.'

Each gaze held resignation because each of them knew the Headmaster was speaking the truth.

'I believe,' the old wizard continued, 'that Mr Longbottom has warned you all previously of the steps you should take to ensure your own safety and those of your friends and family.' He waited until everyone had acknowledged this with a look or a nod.

'Do not forget to take these steps - do not allow yourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. Sadly, while this is not on the scale of the threat to all wizard-kind that was presented by Tom - Voldemort - it is a threat to all of you here present and those immediately related to you or very, very, close to you. Please try to warn them without alarming them - caution is of the utmost importance.'

Not long afterwards, making it clear the "meeting" was over, the Headmaster caused a large, beautiful tray to appear on his desk laden with an enormous pot of tea, a pot of coffee, milk jug, sugar bowl, cups and saucers and a platter piled high with home-baked biscuits, cakes and slices. Ron was first to sample some of the delicious goodies while Molly oversaw the distribution of cups of tea, mostly, only Dumbledore and Arthur taking coffee.

Hermione found herself standing between Harry and Neville, each holding a cup of strong, steaming tea.

'Harry,' said Neville, 'I just need to tell you something...'

Harry looked at Neville and their gazes locked, Neville becoming aware of his heart relocating itself to somewhere in the region of his throat.

'I want to let you know that when I told Hermione you were keeping something from her -' Shit! How do I put this? '- I - well, I guess I can't really explain it. But I'm sorry Harry, I'm really sorry - I -'

Harry broke in at that moment. 'Neville? You can stop. It's all right. You'd always made it clear what you thought of the whole thing about keeping it from Hermione. I was really pissed off to start with - you have no idea how pissed off - but now...well...' Harry glanced quickly at Hermione, giving her a rueful smile, 'well, I guess I have to admit that you were right. And I was wrong. Dumbledore was right too.'

Hermione moved closer to him, putting her hand on his arm to show she knew. And understood. Besides, admitting he was wrong like this was pretty brave in her books. For any man, really...

'That's a relief Harry, I have to say!' exclaimed Neville, laughing, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not to mention his heart returning to its' rightful place in his anatomy.

'Oh, I did consider hexing you badly, I must say!' retorted Harry, grinning.

'Bet you did!' Neville gave him a mischievous look. 'Would've held my own, though, you know.'

All three of them laughed then. 'I don't doubt it!' said Harry finally.

Hermione felt a surge of affection for Neville and reached up with one hand to lightly touch his cheek. 'You are the best kind of friend a person could wish for, Neville,' she told him.

Priscilla joined them at that point after having a short, but enjoyable conversation with the Hogwarts' Headmaster and Neville put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into the circle.

'Priscilla, you've chosen a wonderful man in Neville, I must say,' smiled Hermione.

Priscilla beamed at Neville as she lifted her arm, putting it around his waist. 'I know,' she said softly.

'Congratulations to you both!' said Harry warmly as he put his arm around Hermione's waist and drew her to him.

A little later, as no one really had any further questions, everyone departed after some small talk over their supper, Harry and Hermione remaining behind at the Headmaster's request.

It was getting late and as they settled once again into the armchairs before the fireplace in Dumbledore's office, Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance that was full of longing... longing for their own home, to be there alone...

The old Headmaster's speech was very succinct; he paced back and forth in front of the large fireplace, his hands clasped behind him as he spoke. He told them his concern for Ginny was now not so great. He didn't mention Draco or Narcissa Malfoy. He told them that he was concerned about Lucius Malfoy and what he might be up to - stating he believed he was a continuing danger to them all.

He came last to the Cautus Contego Charm. He told them the thoughts he'd had about the Charm and at last shared his final concern: by whom had the Charm been activated that night at the Burrow?

'But wasn't it some sort of mistake?' asked Hermione, a frown creasing her forehead.

Professor Dumbledore looked at her before he sadly shook his head. Harry, without realising it, was suddenly sitting up straight, all senses alert.

'After much deliberation, Hermione, I know that I am certain of one thing: the Charm was activated because you were in danger. It was no false alarm. And only this evening have I received information as to who, perhaps, might represent such a danger.' As he spoke, he glanced quickly at the portraits adorning the walls of his office, the occupants of which were all looking intently at the current Headmaster.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both seeing fearful uncertainty in the other's eyes before they turned back to look at Dumbledore.

'Tell us,' said Harry quietly as he took Hermione's hand.