Charms and Curses

And here is the chapter you've all been waiting for! The fantabulous wedding chapter ^_^!

Enjoy! AND LEAVE ME LOTS OF REVIEWS, BECAUSE I CRAVE THEM!!

Disclaimers apply. Obviously, I do not own Bill OR Fleur.

~Thalia~

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The location was a dusty desert plain. Bill Weasley looked around him. Sand. Beige, gold, wheaten, honey. The sun a blazing sphere of fire in the tile-blue sky. No vegetation in sight for miles. Bill wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. The splintery, split wood of the empty wizarding bazaar stall over his head did little to block the heat.

His eyes traveled from the distance to himself. He was dressed in his customary casual jeans and shirt. Nothing at all fancy, no dress robes or anything of the sort.

He did not have his family with him. No one else was there but the bazaar owner, who had lent him this space, as witness, and a wizard who had the power to perform special ceremonies. Right now, the bazaar owner's plump wife was in the back room of the stall, along with...her.

The object of many men's lust and desire, and Bill was honest enough to admit, of his, as well. But there was so much more than that. A feisty, proud, clever and vivacious beauty with hair more lustrously golden than any of the treasure that he had ever brought for Gringotts. With eyes blue as delphiniums, that could snap with fury at one moment and shimmer with tenderness the next. He smiled, then frowned. 'Remember, Weasley, this isn't real, it's only a part of the mission. Don't get too attached, it'll just make things hurt worse when it's over.'

The bazaar owner looked at the tall, red-headed young man standing in his stall. Ahmed Zaidi was quite surprised when the young stranger and his lovely friend had barged in that morning at crack of dawn, handed him more galleons than he could have earned selling charmed flutes for a week, and practically demanded that he summon a master of ceremonies at once, for he and his lady companion wanted to get married.

Ahmed had exchanged a glance with his wife Halima, and then, Halima had taken the girl to the back of the stall to prepare, and Ahmed had summoned the local master of ceremonies. Now, the three men were simply waiting for the bride to be ready.

Ahmed, being the simply, friendly soul that he was, looked at the soon-to- be married man and saw him smile, then frown. Immediately, his naturally concerned and solicitous nature evinced itself, and he spoke to the younger man, "Are you worried that what you're doing is wrong, young man? The girl's a pretty one, to be sure, are you wishing that you married her in more splendor?"

It was on the tip of Bill's tongue to reply that this entire ceremony was only part of an assignment that the two were doing, but he said nothing.

He and Fleur needed to get married as soon as possible, because only a couple united by the bond of marriage could enter Cleopatra's Mausoleum, and to complete their assignment, this was all necessary. Of course, he had made sure to tell her that they would only be married for the duration of the assignment, and that she would be free to go as soon as they finished. She had nodded silently, and both of them agreed not to alert any family, since it was a sham anyway, no point in causing an unnecessary ruckus over their 'marriage'.

Fleur...he supposed that she, despite all her protests that she had no objection to this ceremony, would have wanted to marry a man she loved, with all her family around her, in a beautiful wedding garment, surrounded by flowers that could never be as fair as she was. She was an elegant, wealthy, high-class princess, it was her right and her due, and she expected and deserved nothing less.

But then, his face softened, this princess was also the one who had slapped a drunken, overly lewd warlock with so much force that the fellow had tumbled clean to the floor. The one who had sung to a lost child some little French ditty to calm him until his relieved father had turned up. The one who laughed when he told her anecdotes of his family, her voice like a tinkling crystal bell. The only woman he knew who was willing to traipse into old, dangerous tombs and temples with him, who could as easily figure out a sphinx's riddle as she could pin up her hair.

The sound of footsteps broke him out of his reverie. The bazaar stall owner's wife was holding the curtain over the entrance of the back room open with one plump hand, and Fleur walked out. Dressed simply in a plain but clean dress of soft white Egyptian cotton, she offered him her hand and a small smile.

The ceremony was brief and simple. The master of ceremonies produced two plain gold rings from his robes, joined their hands with a strip of well- worn white satin, and spoke the necessary incantation, waving his wand over their hands and completing the spell to bind them.

Bill kept his eyes on Fleur as the master of ceremonies performed these rituals. Her hair was uncovered and unpinned, flowing to her waist. Why, the tresses shimmered just like the glittering sand all around them, and her eyes were the exact shade of the cloudless sky. Standing there in front of him, hair glistening, eyes sparkling, face full of independence and spirit, she looked like the queen of the desert. Just as enduringly beautiful. When the master of ceremonies completed his part, and told Bill in his nasally voice to conclude everything and kiss the bride, he leaned over and kissed Fleur lightly on the lips. Then, graciously, his new bride thanked the bazaar stall owner, his wife and the master of ceremonies, picked up her knapsack, and continued determinedly on their way, head held high, map in hand.

Bill smiled. Perhaps, this was the way her wedding was meant to be, after all. One could always hope.