Questions and Answers

Professor Williams checked his watch, as he strode between the tables. 'Ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen!' he called. 'Your potions should be completed in the next few minutes. I want a vial on my desk in the next five minutes.' He looked over the bent heads. 'Maya, in what sort of vial should you decant your potion?'

Maya spared a glance for Williams. 'Pottery,' she said shortly. 'Loses potency if exposed to light. Brown glass works in a pinch, but not as well as pottery.'

'Excellent. Five points for Slytherin for the added information,' he said.

James peered into his cauldron and consulted his textbook. 'Ought to be bright purple with streaks of pale green,' he murmured. The potion was a bit darker than Williams' example at the front of the room, but the green seemed about right. He picked up a ladle and carefully poured a measure of the Drink of Despair, taking care not to splatter it. It was quite potent, and even a small drop on bare skin could cause extreme pain. He put a cork in the mouth of the vial and tamped it down gently. The thick pottery vial had a Cushioning charm, in case he tripped and dropped it.

Shira Hines, a Ravenclaw with a reputation for being quite clever as long as it involved an academic subject, raised her hand. 'Please, Professor, how are you going to test this?'

Williams laced his hands behind his back. It gave him the impression of being much taller. 'I thought I'd test it on my first-years,' he said, with a mien of complete and total sincerity.

Shira stared at the vial in her hand in horror. 'Seriously?' she spluttered. 'But won't it hurt them?'

Williams sighed and shook his head. 'Relax, Miss Hines. I can test it on plant leaves. In fact, Professor Longbottom has some weeds in Greenhouse Eight that I can use. It won't be the same, of course, as using the potion on a live subject, but I expect weeds won't object too strenuously.'

James shared a glance with Maya and they each rolled their eyes, wondering how Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students had managed to refrain from strangling Shira for five years, grateful they only had to put up with her for another eight months. James held out a hand and Maya placed her vial into it. 'Don't drop it, mind,' she told him with a smirk.

'Ha-bloody-ha,' James muttered. She was never going to let him live down that incident when he'd brewed a perfect Swelling Solution their second year, only to tip the contents of his cauldron over his front and had to spend a night in the hospital, due to its effects. He carried them to Williams' desk and stuck a strip of parchment with their names on each vial.

'James,' Williams intoned softly. 'Do you have a moment after class?'

'Erm, yeah. I mean, yes sir,' James said warily.

'Good. It won't take but a moment.'

James returned to his table and helped Maya clean the cauldrons and put away the ingredients that hadn't come from their Potions kits to the school stores. 'What was that about?' Maya asked softly.

'No idea.' James tucked his textbook into his knapsack. 'Guess I'll find out soon enough, eh?' He squeezed Maya's hand under the cover of the table. 'Save me a place in the library after lunch?'

'I think I can manage that.'

Williams dismissed the class and they filed out, in a chattering, noisy crowd, eager to get to the Great Hall and the lunch that was waiting for them. He waited until the room was cleared, and took a seat at the table in front of James'. 'How was your Quidditch practice last night?'

James' eyes narrowed slightly. 'Is this something you and I ought to discuss?' he asked suspiciously. 'Considering you're the Head of Slytherin and I'm the Gryffindor Captain.'

Williams laughed. 'Stand down. If I wanted to find out what your style of play is, I'd merely watch a practice.' He sobered and regarded James thoughtfully. 'I understand it was quite unusual.'

'You could say that,' James said slowly. 'We just did something Mum said she did when she played with Holyhead.'

'And what was that?' Williams asked, as if he didn't already know.

James rearranged his knapsack in his lap with a gusty sigh. 'I had each member of the team play a position that's more-or-less their opposite. You know. Chaser play Keeper, that sort of thing.'

'And did you deliberately place one player in a position they are not suited for, in an effort to humiliate them?' Williams asked sharply, making James' shoulders stiffen in response. 'I'm not questioning the technique,' Williams said neutrally, 'but I do question the motive.'

'How did you know?' James asked weakly.

'I met Albus in the corridor last night. He was somewhat out of sorts.'

'From the practice?' James blurted incredulously. He knew exactly what time Al had stormed from the common room. It had been hours after practice had ended.

'It was a mitigating factor,' Williams demurred. He leaned his elbows on James' table. 'So?'

James clenched his teeth. 'He was a detriment to team cohesion,' he insisted.

Williams' snorted. 'And public humiliation was the best way to go about remedying that situation?'

James blinked several times. 'I suppose not,' he admitted grudgingly.

Williams nodded once. 'Very well. I trust it won't happen again?'

'No, sir.'

Williams stood and pushed the stool back under the table. 'Enjoy the rest of your day, James,' he said by way of dismissal. Relieved it hadn't been worse, James shouldered his knapsack and started to leave the classroom. Before he'd taken more than five steps, Williams added, 'I will, of course, relay this conversation to Professor Longbottom. It will be up to him to decide what to do with you. If anything at all.'

James froze in mid-step. Of all the people he didn't want to know about his scheme, Neville was at the top of the list. It was far too easy for him to let something slip in conversation with Hannah, who in turn, saw his mother regularly. From there on, it was only a matter of time in James' fevered imagination before the Howler arrived on his breakfast plate. After being the object of Ginny's ire the previous summer, James had no intention of ever putting himself in that position ever again. He visibly wilted as the thought looped to its logical conclusion. 'Y-yes, Professor,' he stammered as he slipped quietly from the Potions classroom and trudged to the Great Hall.

XxXxXxX

Lonely, Al reflected, was not the same as being alone.

He'd never felt so lonely in his life as he did today, drifting from class to class in a bubble of his own making. Gossip flitted rapidly in Hogwarts, darting in half-whispered sentences or scribbled notes from one person to another. Al reckoned that his family would remain silent in the face of his foolishness. They were infamous at school for closing ranks around each other when necessity demanded it. However, he couldn't - and didn't - count on other students' discretion. His meltdown had been somewhat public, occurring in front of most of the other Gryffindors. Prior to this morning, Al had noticed other students tended to give him a wide berth since school began. He'd read in Viktor Krum's memoir the same thing had happened to him after his World Cup victory. That hadn't bothered him. He'd rather enjoyed their admiration. Basked in it, even. Until this morning, the whispers grew louder as he approached. Now, they grew silent and stared until he passed.

He'd awakened earlier than usual that morning after a restless night, washed and dressed, then slipped down to the Great Hall for breakfast, long before many other students were awake. The sleepless night coupled with the enforced solitude had given Al time to think, and in the process analyze his actions. There were a number of things he might have done differently. Looking back, he knew that what he'd done had only served to alienate his family. Al knew that sooner, rather than later, he would have to attempt to mend the relations with his family and Scorpius. If only the words didn't stick in his throat. The only flaw in his plan was the idea that they might not want to listen, much less forgive.

Al left the Great Hall just as the other students began to trickle in from their dormitories. He was at his usual desk the Charms classroom before Professor Flitwick arrived. When Scorpius and Rose came into the room, they paused on the threshold, then pointedly veered to a pair of desks on the other side of the room. Al stared straight ahead, pretending not to have noticed. Transfiguration and Herbology had followed in a similar fashion. Herbology was somewhat of a relief, as they had been working with Mandrakes. With his hearing muted by earmuffs, Al was able to immerse himself in his work. He dawdled while cleaning his work area, meticulously sweeping up the potting soil and dragon dung manure scattered over the table. He took several minutes to wash his hands, and nearly scrubbed them raw in the process. When he realized Neville waited by the door of the greenhouse with well-disguised impatience, Al knew he could no longer prolong the inevitable. He had to face Lily.

Al trudged into the Great Hall and stood apprehensively near the Gryffindor table. He could see Lily sitting halfway down it, across from Hugo. The space next to her was empty. It was a perfect opportunity to attempt an apology or express regret for his behavior last night. To try and explain he wasn't angry with her, or even James. That he wanted somebody in the family to be proud of what he'd accomplished. How their creeping aloofness pricked a little more each day. And how he understood he had, in fact, brought some of upon his own head. To argue he had only wanted to do something somebody else in the family had never done. Not Harry, nor Ginny. Someone jostled him from behind. Scorpius hurried to the space next to Lily and slid onto the bench. He met Al's eyes for a moment and imperceptibly shook his head. Rose followed the direction of Scorpius' eyes and her own widened. 'Rather cheeky of him, don't you think?' she asked in a voice pitched just loud enough to Al to hear, as she purposefully clambered onto the bench across from Lily, glaring at Al while she did so. Chagrined, Al sat at the end of the table.

Alone.

XxXxXxX

Victoire stood motionless under the stream of nearly scalding water flowing from the shower. It was the first opportunity she'd had to have more than a sketchy wash in two days. The Spell Damage ward at the hospital never seemed to have a shortage of patients. Too many people were thick enough to use poorly brewed potions, were the target of badly-performed Charms, or had been caught in a family feud fuelled by jinxes and hexes that grew exponentially in their nastiness. At this point in her training, Victoire worked without direct supervision from a senior Healer less and less these days. Most of the time, she carried the duties of a senior Healer, and only reported to one in the more complicated cases, although now it was more like a peer and not quite like a student. While she did find the newly earned professional freedom liberating, it carried quite a bit more responsibility. It was exhausting, if Victoire were to be honest about it. She fantasized of diving into her nightdress and falling into her bed to sleep for the next three days.

Until her mother's magically amplified voice collided with the fading vision of crisp sheets and fluffy duvets. 'Victoire, what is keeping you? Are you ill?'

Victoire's eyes popped open. 'No, Mum...' she called wearily. 'I'll be right out.'

'Teddy will be here in fifteen minutes to discuss ze wedding,' Fleur cautioned.

Victoire shut off the water with a muffled oath that would have scandalized either of her parents, had they been able to hear it, and immediately regretted it. It wasn't Teddy's fault. The last time they tried to make plans for the wedding, somebody in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office hadn't examined a box of odds and ends very well, and an elderly woman had bought an old-fashioned coffee percolator at a boot sale in a church bazaar. The percolator had been charmed to tap dance when the coffee was ready. The poor woman thought she was going mad. She had proven to be quite resistant to having her memory modified, and it had taken the better part of an evening to change the memory to one of an advertisement she'd seen during an afternoon program lately. The other time, Victoire had been called into work to deal with a particularly virulent outbreak of dragon pox - not her specialty, really, but a disease she'd had experience in treating - and it had given the senior Healers a chance to see firsthand her leadership abilities, while she took charge of a group of first-year trainees. They were finally going to set a date tonight.

She carelessly dried herself, and tugged a pair of jeans over her damp skin, then wriggled into last year's Christmas jumper, thankful it was a lovely aqua blue and not lime-green. Victoire hung up her towels and perched on the edge of the toilet to comb her hair. If she was lucky, she could manage to tease out the snarls and plait it in ten minutes. She picked up an old wooden comb, and began the laborious process of untangling her nearly waist-length hair. She'd never quite been able to make herself go through with actually cutting off a significant amount. She kept an eye on her wristwatch lying near the sink and managed to bind the end of the plait with a minute to spare. She was in the kitchen moments before she heard the telltale pop of someone Apparating outside the garden.

Teddy walked into the kitchen, shaking rain from his hair. He glanced at Victoire and did an elaborate double take. 'Do I know you?' he teased. 'You look like someone I know,' he added doubtfully. Victoire managed a wan smile. Teddy dropped his joking demeanor. 'Hey, what's wrong?' he asked, enfolding her in his arms.

'I need sleep,' she told him, attempting to rub away the grittiness in her eyes.

'We can do this another time,' Teddy began, but Victoire waved off his concerns.

'It's now or we'll have to wait until next summer when I become a fully-trained Healer,' Victoire said firmly. 'And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not wait anymore than I have to.'

Fleur bustled into the kitchen. 'Ah. Bon soir, Teddy.' She patted him gently on the cheek. 'So, you are here to take my bébé away from me.'

Victoire poured boiling water into the teapot and set it in the middle of the kitchen table, then fetched four cups from the dresser. 'You're not getting rid of a daughter,' she reminded her mother cheerfully. 'You're gaining a son.'

Teddy grinned cheekily at Fleur. 'I've been told I'm quite a catch,' he told her as he moved easily about the kitchen, opening a cupboard and taking out the milk jug and sugar bowl.

'Do you have a time of year you'd like for the wedding?' Fleur asked.

'Summer,' Teddy pronounced definitively. 'Has to be summer.'

'So we can do it outdoors,' Victoire explained. 'We felt it would be easier to accommodate the family that way.'

'Brilliant,' Bill drawled from the kitchen door. He gestured to the table. 'Shall we?' He took his usual chair and poured tea for everyone. 'So, you said summer...' he muttered, Summoning the calendar from the wall and flipping the pages until he came to June. 'You're still in training,' he said to Victoire. 'And the younger cousins will still be in school for most of June and they have exams, so it wouldn't be prudent to bring them home for it.'

'July could work,' Fleur said thoughtfully. 'But August might be better, I zink.'

Teddy and Victoire exchanged a glance. 'I suppose,' Victoire said slowly. 'But Mum, your anniversary is in August, and so is Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny's.'

'Yeah,' Teddy piped in. 'And Percy and Ginny both have birthdays in August. It'll make it a bit loaded for celebrations, don't you think?'

'Nonsense,' Fleur said dismissively. 'We have to zink of what would be the best for the guests.'

Victoire straightened, all signs of weariness gone. 'Guests?' she asked sharply. 'What do you mean guests?'

Fleur glared at her over the rim of her teacup. 'Oui. Guests.' She Summoned a small notebook from the dresser and opened it. 'Surely you did not zink you could only invite ze family.'

'That was the general idea,' Victoire retorted. 'We didn't want a big fuss.'

'Your grandmuzzer and I have been talking,' Fleur said blithely over Victoire's objections.

'Why are you and Grandmum planning my wedding?' Victoire blurted acerbically.

Fleur's eyes narrowed dangerously. Teddy and Bill both unconsciously scooted their chairs back from the table. Fleur didn't lose her temper very often, but when she did, it was nearly as spectacular as watching Molly. 'Someone has to take an interest in it!' she responded hotly. 'Especially as you do not seem to want to!'

Victoire rubbed her hands over her face. 'I specifically told you when Teddy and I got engaged we did not want a large, expensive do. We just wanted to keep it to the family.'

'Bah,' Fleur snorted scornfully. 'Someone in zis family must have a proper wedding,' she pronounced imperiously.

'I beg your pardon?' Victoire said icily. 'How is keeping the guest list to family improper?'

'Zere are people who must be invited,' Fleur said patiently, as if explaining something simple to a stubborn child. 'Ze ozzer Healers you will work wiz at ze hospital. Zere are ze people wiz whom Bill works who ought to come. Not to mention Teddy's supervisors. Kingsley. Zese are people whom you ought to see socially so you can make contacts.'

Victoire gritted her teeth. 'Mum,' she said in a low voice. 'Most of the people I work with at the hospital already know me on a professional level. They don't need to see me dancing at my bloody wedding. It's not important for me to have contacts with Teddy's supervisors. Or Dad's. Or to even have the bleeding Ministry leadership attend my wedding.'

Fleur sniffed, 'You will have a wedding wiz all ze frills.'

'Why is it so important to you?' Victoire cried. 'It's not like having a marquee and more food than we can possibly eat and a guest list comprised of people I don't even know or care about is going to make a bit of difference in whether or not Teddy and I are married.' She pushed her chair back and ran her hands through her hair. 'I can't talk about this. Just pick a date and be done with it!' she exclaimed and stalked from the house.

Teddy jumped to his feet. 'I'll just, erm...' He gestured lamely at the door and hurried after Victoire.

Bill reached for the tin of biscuits and pried the lid open. He selected a jam tart and bit off one end. Swallowing, he asked, 'Why is it so important to you?'

Fleur's mouth crimped in displeasure. 'When was ze last time ze family had a real wedding?'

Bill finished the jam tart, and his fingers hovered over the tin, until he settled on a piece of shortbread. 'Ron and Hermione?' he guessed.

'Do not be ridiculous,' Fleur told him. 'It was so... small,' she elaborated. 'Percy, Charlie, and George eloped and deprived ze family of seeing zeir weddings. Harry and Ginny's was just like Ron and Hermione's. All too quiet.'

'And ours?' Bill asked gently.

Fleur frowned into her tea. 'It was ze best day of life,' she admitted. 'Until ze Death Eaters arrived and cast it all into chaos.'

'Chérie,' Bill began softly. 'Does that make us any less married? Has our marriage suffered because a party didn't end well?'

'Of course not,' Fleur sighed. 'I only wanted Victoire to have what we did not.'

Bill lifted Fleur's hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. 'If you push too hard, she is going to elope,' he told her.

Fleur smiled, albeit a little sadly. 'Our petite fille deserves somezing grand. After all the hard work she has done to become a Healer, Victoire has more zan earned ze right for somezing, well, magical, no?'

Bill chuckled and shook his head. 'I don't think she would care if she was barefoot on a beach. At the end of the day, as long as she is married to Teddy, that is what will make it magical. I know you want her to have the kind of wedding we had, but let's be honest. It's not what she wants. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to see our girl be happy on her wedding day.'

'Of course I do.'

Bill stood and stretched, his hands nearly touching the ceiling. 'Good. Let her cool down a bit, and tomorrow, after she's had a decent sleep the two of you can talk about it some more.'

Teddy caught up with Victoire stalking next to the shoreline. He reached out and grabbed her arm. 'What the hell was that about?' he demanded.

'Did you hear Mum?' Victoire hissed. 'Guests? Since when do you and I need to have a bevy of people we don't know and don't care about acting as if they really want to spend a Saturday afternoon at a wedding for someone they barely know? It's not what we want. It's not what we ever wanted.'

'Vic, calm down,' Teddy said. 'It's just the wedding, innit?'

'What?'

Teddy tugged at her hand until she followed him to a dune overlooking the sea. He sat down and pulled her down so her back rested against his chest. 'It's only the wedding,' he reiterated. 'Unless you and I are prepared to pay for it all and can then tell Gran and your mum and dad to bugger off, we have to make a few concessions, don't you think?'

'What kind of concessions?' Victoire asked suspiciously.

Teddy grinned against her hair. 'Well, I know you and I would rather just do it and have a slightly more elaborate Sunday lunch at the Burrow. Maybe everyone dresses up a bit, but no dress robes.'

'That sounds perfect,' Victoire sighed.

'So what if we agree to look smart for the day and maybe agree to a few people your Mum wants, and in return we keep it small. Fifty people at the most.'

'Family will be at least thirty,' Victoire said after a few moments of rapid mental calculations. 'Plus, you, me, Mum, Dad, and your grandmother makes thirty-five... Supposing Maddie, Izzy, and Parker bring a date... Thirty-eight. Hmmm. James might want to bring Maya, thirty-nine...'

'Scorpius,' Teddy interjected. 'I'd like him to be there. He is my cousin, after all.'

'Forty,' Victoire said. 'Grand-pere and Grand-mere are forty-two. Tante Gabrielle and Oncle Étienne. Forty-four. Their brood will bring it up to fifty,' Victoire said slowly.

'Jesus,' Teddy murmured, slightly aghast. 'Did we always have such a large family?'

'I think we just never noticed,' Victoire admitted. 'It never seems that large on Sundays.'

'We do tend to clump into our groups,' Teddy observed. 'Just try giving your mum a number both of you can work with. She's not unreasonable.' Teddy paused. 'Usually.'

Victoire tilted her head forward and gathered her hair in both hands, winding it into a knot low on her head. 'I can see where she's coming from,' she admitted reluctantly. 'Both her and Grandmum have dropped hints from time to time about how I'm the first one to get married and how it's going to be special. I've seen them on Sundays, standing in the back garden at the Burrow, heads together. I know they're just measuring the paddock for the marquee and arranging the tables for the extravagant sit-down dinner after. A string quartet for dancing. Fairy lights on anything that will stand still.' She turned to face Teddy. 'Do you know we'd only been engaged for maybe four or five months when Mum started in with plans?' Even though we were years from the actual wedding.'

Flabbergasted, Teddy could only shake his head. 'That's nutters,' he said.

'You can say that again.'

'Why did you react so angrily with your mum, anyway?' Teddy asked curiously

Victoire buried her face in her hands. 'I thought if I put my foot down from the beginning, then Mum wouldn't try to take over the whole thing.'

Teddy craned his head around and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Victoire's ear. 'Can you try something for me and see what happens?'

'Sure,' Victoire replied listlessly, the bone-deep weariness stealing over her once more.

'If you could just try and meet your mum in the middle?' Teddy requested. 'Give her a number that keeps the guest list down to something you and I like, but lets her invite a few people she thinks are necessary, maybe. We could even agree to dressing up. Somewhere between dress robes and informal?'

'Okay,' she yawned.

'Just try to keep a grip on your temper, love, all right?'

'All right.' Victoire's head thudded against Teddy's shoulder. 'How did you get to be such an expert at negotiating?'

Teddy snickered. 'When I was a teenager, Gran decided she would negotiate with me over things I wanted. Like curfews, and what to do over summer holidays. Plus, I also watched Harry and Ginny a lot. They tended to haggle over everything. From whose turn it was to change nappies to who was going to do the washing up after dinner. Give a little, so you can take a little. And above all else: keep calm.' Teddy thought it irrelevant, however, to mention just how Harry and Ginny resolved any arguments that might have arisen. There were a few times he could remember where they hadn't been as conscientious about keeping up with the Silencing charms on their bedroom as they might have been. Teddy generally preferred to pretend he hadn't heard a thing. From time to time when he had heard far too much, he casually dropped a comment that one of them might not be feeling well. He'd taught the trick to James once Lily was old enough to start Hogwarts, knowing Harry and Ginny would likely allow the charm to lapse entirely.

'Ohhhkayy,' Victoire sighed sleepily. 'Keep calm...'

Teddy nudged her shoulder. 'Come on. I'll take you home,' he told her, helping Victoire to stand. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and let her lean against him, supporting most of her weight. He trudged slowly back to Shell Cottage, glimmering in the dark night above them.

XxXxXxX

Victoire rolled over in her narrow bed, blinking at the light streaming through the thin, lacy curtains in bemusement. She didn't quite recall actually getting into bed, much less removing her jeans. She picked up the alarm clock on the table between her bed and Maddie's, and squinted at it, mouth falling open in amazement. It was well past eleven. Nearly noon, in fact. Her stomach grumbled reminding her it had been quite some time since dinner. She located her missing jeans and yanked them up, fastening them as she padded down the stairs. 'Mum?' she called, wincing at the sound of her voice echoing through the empty house. A very empty house since Maddie had gone to Appleby with Izzy as a scout and Nicky and Alex returned to school.

There was no reply from Fleur, so Victoire decided her best course of action was to see to her more basic needs. She found a bit of leftover rabbit stew from last night's dinner in the old, Muggle-style icebox that was over a hundred years old. Fleur kept an enormous bowl of water where the block of ice would have gone, filled it with fresh water each morning, then performed a Freezing charm. It served to keep food cool with a minimum of effort. And Shell Cottage wasn't fitted with the latest modcons like Teddy's flat. Going from the bustle of London to the lamplit rooms of the cottage was taking a cleansing breath at times. Life moved at a slower pace here, even though magic rendered many of the mundane activities of life to mere seconds of effort.

Victoire reheated the stew with a wave of her wand, and took it to the table. She neatly cut off a few slices of bread from the ever-present round loaf on a board at one end and wolfed down the meal with a lack of grace that would have made her mother scowl in Gallic disapproval and mutter in French about how proper young ladies never wiped the inside of the bowl with the bread to sop up the last of the gravy. Victoire then washed the bowl and spoon and wondered what she could do with the next several hours that were unencumbered with work, study, or anything of dire importance. There were some of her textbooks from her first year of Healer training she had put away in the attic that she did want to peruse, just to keep it fresh in her mind. It wasn't the same as studying to Victoire. This was merely revising things she didn't use on a near-daily basis, and didn't want to get caught flat-footed by a senior Healer when they reviewed patient records each morning.

The attic stairs were narrow and steep, and Victoire had to look down at her feet as she climbed them. When she was ten, she hadn't been paying attention and tumbled down the steps when a foot slipped from the edge of a riser. She'd badly sprained an ankle and a wrist, and given herself a lovely black eye. The injuries were nothing Fleur couldn't fix in a trice, but the experience had lingered with Victoire. Since then, she kept her eyes glued to her toes when she had to venture to the attic. The trapdoor to the attic opened with a hard tug at the rope hanging from it, and a sturdy set of stairs unfolded smoothly from the attic floor. She scrambled up the stairs and blinked in the dazzling light that saturated the room. Her books were on a shelf where she had left them, but Victoire found herself heading for the trunk where she knew Fleur's wedding dress was packed lovingly away, folded in tissue paper with lavender sachets scattered throughout the trunk.

Victoire knelt and lifted the lid of the trunk. She carefully parted the layers of tissue paper and unfurled the length of heavy, draped silk. The dress was saved from severity by a modest touch of lace that bordered the bodice, which was then wrapped in chiffon, forming sheer sleeves that began on her shoulders and flowed to her wrists. Victoire snorted a little sardonically. The dress was artfully simple to showcase Fleur's inherent beauty. An old mirror had been propped in the corner, so Victoire held the dress up to her shoulders and turned to and fro, examining the effect.

It was quite becoming.

Or would have been, had three inches of ankle not been visible below the hem. She was a head taller than Fleur.

'Victoire?' Fleur's head popped through the trapdoor.

'Mum!' Victoire gasped, nearly dropped the dress.

The rest of Fleur followed her head into the attic and she gestured at the dress. 'Would you like to try it on?'

'I...' Victoire nodded mutely and Fleur held her hands out of the dress. Victoire shimmied from her clothes, and let Fleur carefully drop the dress over her head. 'How did you know I was here?'

'I saw you in ze windows.' Fleur began the task of slipping the innumerable tiny pearl buttons through small loops of silk that lined the back of the dress from just above Victoire's hips to the nape of her neck. She stepped back, and a wistful smile flitted over her face. 'Ah. You look lovely.'

Victoire held out the skirt. 'It's a little short,' she ventured.

Fleur stooped and flipped back the hem. There were at least three inches of fabric that Victoire could see. 'When I had ze dress made, I requested zat it have enough fabric in the seams and hems. If I had a daughter, she could wear it at her wedding, if she wanted. Your fazzer is so tall, I zought I might have girls zat were taller zan myself.' She came to stand behind Victoire, a pincushion appearing out of thin air. 'You are a bit bigger here,' she said, motioning to Victoire's breasts. 'It is no matter. We can have the seams let out zere.' She deftly pushed in a few pins along the sides and the darts on the front of the bodice. 'And depending on how short you want ze skirt...' Fleur chewed her lip for a moment. 'It is meant to cover the toes of your shoes,' she explained.

'I don't think there's enough fabric,' Victoire said regretfully.

'Zere is enough,' Fleur said simply. 'Zat is, if you want to wear it.'

Victoire gazed at her image in the mirror. She barely recognized the person in the dress. It made her look sophisticated, even without the aid of cosmetics and styled hair. But most of all, she could picture the look on Teddy's face as she danced down an aisle to greet him on their wedding day. 'I think I do.'

Fleur's face brightened and before Victoire could blink, a measuring tape unfurled in front of her face and began measuring her bust, waist, hips, arm length, and then finally the length from her navel to the arches of her bare feet. Fleur jotted down the numbers in a small notebook. 'Excellent. I shall have it altered to fit you.' Fleur helped Victoire from the dress and tucked it tenderly back into the trunk. 'I always hoped you or Madeline would wear it.'

'No more than sixty-five people,' Victoire said suddenly.

'Hmm?' Fleur hummed absently, as she replaced the sachets.

'Teddy and I figured there would be roughly fifty family members at the wedding. Give or take a few. You can invite whom you see fit above that, but no more than sixty-five total guests.'

Fleur closed the lid and rose to her feet. 'Sixty-five?'

'Sixty-five.'

'I can work wiz zat.'

'We can have a marquee, but only if we do it the Burrow.'

'Your grandmuzzer will be pleased to hear it,' Fleur stated. 'And a date?'

'August does make it easier for Maddie and Izzy,' Victoire admitted. 'And Parker.'

'Let us go down to the kitchen, and choose a couple of days, and you and Teddy can decide which one, yes?'

'All right. We can figure out the food later.' Victoire allowed Fleur to leave the attic first. 'No veil,' she stated with finality.

'No? A tiara, perhaps? Molly has her Great-Aunt Muriel's tiara zat I wore at my wedding,' Fleur said a cajoling tone.

Victoire didn't reply immediately. She was too focused on descending the flight of stairs from the attic. Once she reached the landing of the first floor she shook her head. 'No tiara. Hair up in something simple, with a few discreet flowers or something.'

Fleur smiled with only a hint of triumph. 'I zink you will be a beautiful bride.'

XxXxXxX

Teddy carried two pints through the crowded pub and set one in front of Harry. Harry picked it up and took a long sip, using the opportunity to study Teddy. He seemed more than a little edgy at dinner that night and had all but tripped over his feet when asking Harry to come for a drink. 'Are things all right with work?' Harry asked.

Teddy started and a bit of his lager slopped over the edge of the glass. 'No. Everything's just fine,' he stammered.

Harry merely nodded and took another sip of his bitter. 'And Vic's all right?'

'Yeah. Fine. On track to be a senior Healer by June.'

Harry decided to go for the idea lurking in the back of his head. 'Is she pregnant?' he asked bluntly, knowing after all his, Ginny's, and Andromeda's lectures about delaying parenthood until they were both ready to handle the responsibility of it, an unplanned pregnancy might be what was making the lad so jumpy.

'No!' Teddy all but shouted. He glanced around, but no one in the pub seemed to have heard. 'She's not pregnant,' he stated. 'You really think all those bloody speeches the lot of you gave me didn't sink in?' he snorted, then took a large swallow of his drink. 'I just need to ask you something.'

Harry quashed the faint alarm that rose in his stomach. 'Okay.'

'We set a date. August thirteenth. And I was wondering - hoping, actually - that you'd stand with me.'

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He quickly shut it with a faint clack of his teeth. 'You want me to stand with you at your wedding?' he asked weakly.

'I do.'

'Are you sure? You don't want one of your mates from school? Or James? Parker?'

Teddy dragged a hand down his face, stretching it comically. 'I'm sure,' he said quietly. 'I know this isn't the usual way of things. You're more a father than a mate, but you were the one who said it was all right for me to be with Vic. She's always been my best friend. You never told me not to pursue a relationship with her. And you've always been willing to give me advice about it. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have with me.'

'I...' Harry's voice caught in his throat.

'Please,' Teddy added thickly.

Harry coughed and gulped half his bitter, blinking rapidly to clear the sudden moisture in his eyes. 'I'd be honored to,' he said.