Capítulo 20: 20 - Moments in Time
The reception took place in Fleur's favorite glen on the far side of the pavilion. She had no doubt that her parents had chosen it for just that reason, and she was very pleased. It was her favorite place to play as a child, and as she grew older, she often came here to escape and find peace.
The ancient oak trees surrounding it were decorated with colorful streamers, and she swore she saw a fairy or two flitting amongst the branches, which meant that it would be quite a display come nightfall. A buffet table stood at one end, piled high with snacks and refreshments, and a portable dance floor dominated the other. In between were numerous tables, all draped with fine white linens.
Having finally escaped the requisite encounters with the more prominent guests – including the French Minister of Magic himself – Fleur was now listening to Hermione yammer on about her wedding ring. Unlike Muggle weddings, the rings were not purchased and exchanged by the bride and groom; instead, they were summoned by the bonding magic. Hers was a delicate platinum band topped with a tastefully understated diamond, and it was giving the girl fits at the moment.
"But that's impossible!" she burst. "Gamp's Third Law clearly states that you can't conjure precious metals or gems!"
Her parents stood on either side of her, and looked highly amused by her reaction. Given the number of questions that they themselves had asked about the ceremony, it was obvious where she had come by her personality. This amused Fleur to no end.
"It is one of ze greatest mysteries of magic, 'ermione," she told her patiently. "Zere are many theories, but it 'as never been explained."
"Maybe they're not conjured," put in Neville unexpectedly from somewhere behind her, startling her and making her jump. "They could be translocated from somewhere or something."
Fleur flashed him a smile as he passed and shrugged noncommittally. Predictably, Hermione latched onto the theory and launched into a highly technical discussion with him as he took up a position by her side. Though he probably did not understand even half of it, he endured it patiently; he clearly loved the girl.
She soon tuned them out, however. Harry had gone off to get drinks some time ago and had yet to return, and she was starting to worry. Though he had not uttered a single word of complaint, she was well aware that the first two hours of the reception had been exceedingly difficult for him; he hated attention of any kind, and on this occasion he was receiving it in spades.
But as she scanned the crowd, her attention was caught by someone else.
Ginny Weasley sat sullenly at a nearby table, shooting her a dark glare. This was not the first time she had noticed it; the girl had been doing it ever since the ceremony. She had no idea what she might have done to deserve it, but Ginny was clearly angry with her for some reason.
"Why is she looking at me like zat?" she wondered, interrupting the conversation.
"Who?" frowned Hermione. Then she followed Fleur's gaze and groaned. "Oh boy," she sighed.
Fleur turned away from the obviously angry redhead and gave Hermione her full attention. "Did I do somezing to offend 'er?" she asked bluntly.
"Yeah," snorted Neville. "You married Harry."
Fleur blinked bemusedly.
"Uh oh," chuckled Hermione's father. "I think someone has a little crush!"
His wife and daughter whacked him lightly on either arm in silent rebuke for the comment, but then Hermione confirmed it. "He's right," she nodded, throwing him a darkly amused look. "She grew up on stories about him, and swore she would marry him someday."
Fleur turned back to study the girl in question, who was still trying to burn holes in her from afar. "I think I must deal wiz zis," she said with a weary sigh. "Will you keep 'Arry busy for me when 'e comes back?"
Hermione couldn't hold in her wince. "Sure," she nodded, "but I don't think it'll do much good, Fleur. She's been pining after him for years."
"Be zat as it may," said Fleur darkly, "'e is my 'usband, and she needs to– 'ow do you say? Get over it?"
"Good luck with that," said Neville with uncharacteristic sarcasm.
Fleur just rolled her eyes at him and made for Ginny's table. In truth, while it was annoying, she would not ordinarily have said anything – but given how Harry felt about the Weasleys, she did not want any more of them to turn on him. Ron was already giving him fits, and Molly had added to it significantly. A third such incident would do nobody any good.
Ginny's eyes narrowed at her approach, but she ignored it; the girl was not nearly as intimidating as she seemed to think she was.
She was the only one at the table, so Fleur plopped down across from her without so much as a word. Ginny's eyes narrowed further, but she met her angry gaze unflinchingly and allowed the silence to spiral, if only to prove that she was unaffected by it.
"Would you like to tell me why you are so angry wiz me?" she asked eventually.
"I think you know," growled Ginny.
Fleur arched an eyebrow, leaned back in her chair, and folded her arms across her chest. In her experience, that kind of response meant only one thing: she did not want to say, because she did not want to look foolish. It was a bit late for that, though.
"I do not like to make assumptions," she said directly. "I would rather 'ear it from you."
Ginny stared back at her for a long while, her cheeks heating in either anger or embarrassment, Fleur couldn't tell which. If Hermione was right about this – which she had no doubt of – then the girl really did need to get over it. Harry was a married man now, and as far as she knew, he had never had any kind of romantic interest in her.
"You trapped him," Ginny eventually hissed.
Fleur snorted morbidly. "We were both trapped," she countered flatly.
"You don't look too upset about it," snarled Ginny.
"I am not upset now," she said pointedly, "but I was not 'appy when I found out, of zis I assure you."
Ginny snorted in obvious disbelief. "Oh, right!" she spat. "Looks, fame, money, he's got it all! I'll bet you were thrilled!"
The girl's voice was starting to rise, so Fleur drew her wand under the table and cast a privacy charm to keep others from listening in. She had a bad feeling that Ginny took after her mother in that she simply assumed that she was right. The apple had not fallen far from the tree.
"I 'ave no wish to be famous, Ginny," she replied quietly, her voice taking on a slight edge, "and I 'ave money and beauty enough for both of us. I do not care about zose things any more zan 'Arry does."
"Whatever," the girl snorted. "I'm sure you're just what he needs!" Then she leaned forward and once again tried for the intimidating glare, but completely missed the mark. "You're a complete bitch, and everyone knows it!" she hissed. "You're totally wrong for him! He deserves far better than you!"
Fleur's eyes narrowed involuntarily at the frank insult. She was quite used to it, so it didn't really affect her, but this girl had a lot of nerve to say it to her face, and on her wedding day no less. If she couldn't handle it, then she shouldn't have come!
But what really made her angry was the girl's blanket assumption that she knew what was best for Harry. Knowing what she now did, Fleur doubted that even Hermione was qualified to say that, and she knew him better than anyone else. None of them had a single clue who he really was.
It also struck her as ironic that they were both being lusted after by members of the Weasley family, but she pushed that thought away as quickly as she could.
Fleur leaned forward again and hit the girl with one of her best glares, causing her eyes to widen slightly. When she spoke, it was with a deliberation that underscored her deadly seriousness. She was not messing around.
"Do not presume to know me, Ginny Weasley," she growled. "And for zat matter, do not presume to know 'Arry. You know nuzzing at all about eizzer of us, zis I promise you. Make no mistake, 'e is my 'usband, and zat will nevair change."
Fleur had to admit that she was impressed when Ginny didn't back down. Most people who saw her in this state ran the other direction! Her irritation was not feigned, and it was never wise to anger a veela. But Ginny held her ground, her eyes going back to narrow slits.
"If you hurt him, so help me..." she ground out.
A snort escaped Fleur before she could squelch it. This little girl was threatening her! It was cute, in an appalling sort of way. But it did tell her one thing: while there was no doubt that her reaction was mostly due to her obvious jealousy, there was also more to her feelings than that...
"'Arry is my mate, Ginny," she said, forcing her voice to lose most of its edge. "Do not doubt even for a moment zat I will defend 'im wiz my life, just as surely as 'e gave up 'is own for me." Then she lowered her voice, and dropped any pretense. "And I am 'is wife," she said quietly. "If you cannot get past your jealousy, zen you will lose 'is friendship entirely. 'E would not 'ave made such a profound oath unwillingly, and I zink you know zat."
Ginny stared at her for a long moment as the statement sunk in, and then her cheeks abruptly lost their color. Fleur nodded in satisfaction: the girl had apparently forgotten that, in spite of his shy personality, Harry always did what he felt was right, no matter the cost. He had promised never to let anyone come between them, and without a doubt, he meant that promise.
Seeing that no response was forthcoming, Fleur rose gracefully to her feet, satisfied that she at least wouldn't be glared at for the rest of the day. "Think about it," she said softly. "'E values 'is friends greatly, and you will 'urt 'im worse zan you know if you keep zis up."
Then, having done what she came to do, she turned and walked unhurriedly back toward the shady spot where Hermione and her parents were still standing. It was with some relief that she realized that Harry had finally returned; he was facing away from her, and somewhere along the line he had picked up a passenger. Gabrielle was riding piggy-back, with her chin resting on his shoulder as she watched the conversation.
The scene brought a soft smile to Fleur's face. She loved her sister dearly, and she was very glad to see that he got along so well with her. They had not yet discussed the idea of having a family of their own, but she suspected that he would make an excellent father some day.
She sidled up to him and took his arm, her free hand snatching the glass of punch that he had kindly brought for her, and when he turned to her, his eyes softened as was becoming commonplace. His exhaustion was reflected clearly there, but so was his determination: he would make it through the day come hell or high water. It made her want to comb her fingers through his hair in an offering of quiet comfort, but she had no free hands with which to do so.
"Everything alright?" he asked quietly, not noticing the scrutiny he was suddenly under from the elder Grangers, who had yet to see them together.
Fleur nodded at him. "She will come around," she shrugged, knowing full well that Hermione would have told him what was going on. "It will just take some time."
He nodded and leaned into her a little. "Thanks, Fleur," he sighed. "I really didn't want to deal with it today."
In response, she leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, which made him close his eyes in obvious enjoyment. And as she pulled back, she saw a wide smile on her sister's face: she was apparently quite thrilled that he was part of the family now. It was fortunate that her sister had decided not to be jealous; that would not have been fun.
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For Harry, the entire event was completely surreal. He still had yet to wrap his head around the fact that he was married. But even so, and even with the stress he was under from dealing with so many strangers, he would not have traded it for the world.
He would remember this day for the rest of his life, and was immensely pleased that it was going off without a hitch.
They were standing near the buffet table now, where Sirius and Remus were holding court with the Delacours and Amelia Bones. The discussion currently centered around Sirius: France had raised the issue of his innocence with Britain, but Minister Fudge refused to pull his head out of the sand. To say that Amelia was frustrated was putting it mildly.
"We need to get that man out of office," she growled. "He has to be the worst Minister we've ever had!"
"If only it were so easy," sighed Sebastian. "For now there is little we can do. Minister Bertrand 'as tried to force the issue, but 'e as made little progress."
"Why not leak it to the press?" wondered Harry. "Wouldn't that put pressure on him to do something?"
"Fudge has too much control over the Prophet, Harry," frowned Remus. "He'd force them not to print it."
Harry scowled. The more he saw of magical government in Britain, the more convinced he was that it was completely corrupt. Fudge was an idiot, and with someone like Lucius Malfoy pulling his strings, he was practically a supporter of Voldemort. And the fact that he controlled the press explained an awful lot.
"At least Sirius is safe," soothed Fleur, combing her fingers gently through his hair. "Ze Aurors 'ere know zat 'e is innocent, so zey will not bozzer 'im."
Harry closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, but he just couldn't let the subject go. "We should just buy the Prophet," he groused. "It would make life so much easier."
Fleur chuckled at the comment, and Sirius let out a bark of laughter and slapped Remus on the shoulder. "Wouldn't that be a great prank, Moony?" he grinned. "We could turn the whole thing against Fudge!"
Remus just rolled his eyes, though. "There's a reason he controls the Prophet, Padfoot," he replied dryly. "It's called majority ownership. Good luck with buying–"
"Padfoot?" interrupted two voices simultaneously.
The incredulous chorus startled Harry, and he turned to see a stunned Fred and George staring blankly at Sirius; apparently they had passed by at just the right moment and overheard part of the conversation. An evil grin slowly spread on his lips: he had forgotten they didn't know who their idols really were.
"Yes?" frowned Sirius.
"Padfoot?" repeated one of them. "Really?"
Sirius blinked bemusedly at them for a long moment before– "Moony," he said slowly, turning to Remus. "Did I miss something?"
"You're Moony?" burst the twins, staring incredulously at Remus.
"Er, yes?" blinked Remus.
"That's impossible!" said one of the twins.
"Way too stuffy to be Moony," nodded the other emphatically.
"Harrykins put you up to this, right?" asked the first.
Harry chortled at their obvious disbelief. It had never occurred to him to tell them the real story behind the Marauders, and apparently Ron had never done so either. He almost wished that he'd thought of it earlier; he could have gotten a lot of mileage out of it...
But he was distracted when Sirius turned to him and cocked an eyebrow. "Care to explain, Dupli-Prongs?" he asked pointedly.
Harry snorted at the nickname, and ignored Fred and George when they turned to stare incredulously at him. "It's a bit of a story, Padfoot," he smiled. "See, back in third year I needed a way out of the castle, and Fred and George here decided to help me out by giving me a blank piece of parchment." He smirked as he added, "Then they made me solemnly swear that I was up to no good."
A highly impressed look came over Sirius, and he turned an appraising gaze on the twins. "You stole the Map back from Filch?" he breathed.
Both twins blinked.
"Yeah," frowned one of them – Fred, if Harry wasn't mistaken. "Found it in first year."
"It was in a cabinet marked 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous," confirmed George.
"What map is zis?" asked Arienne curiously.
"The Marauder's Map," explained Remus with a dreamy look. "We made it when we were at Hogwarts. It's a map of the entire castle that shows where everyone is."
"Great for troublemaking," nodded Sirius. "We almost never got caught after that."
"Until Wormtail lost it to Flich," growled Remus.
"Sounds like you 'ad fun in your school days," grinned Sebastian.
"They're famous!" burst George. "Best pranksters Hogwarts ever saw!"
"Why thank you," preened Sirius, even as Remus grinned happily at the praise.
"Wait," frowned Fred, turning a look on Harry. "Does that mean your dad was Prongs?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "And Pettigrew was Wormtail."
There was a brief silence, and then George turned back to Remus. "No way," he said with a shake of his head. "Sirius I can believe, and maybe James Potter, but you? There's no way you're Moony."
"Where do you think the nickname comes from?" asked Remus with an arched eyebrow. "Werewolf, remember?"
Both twins blinked at that, and Sirius chortled. "He was the perfect foil," he grinned. "The only one of us that never got caught. McGonagall was appalled when she found out."
"Too right!" came the voice of the stern Transfiguration Professor as she approached from the other side of their little group. She immediately fixed Sirius with one of her patented glares, too. "You're not encouraging these two, are you?" she asked him pointedly.
"No!" sputtered Sirius, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "Not at all!"
Everyone burst out laughing as Sirius backpedaled, including McGonagall. Meanwhile, Fleur wrapped her arms around Harry from behind and rested her chin atop of his head. Overcome by a pleasant warmth, he leaned back and closed his eyes, savoring the sensation.
For the first time he could remember, he felt as though all was right with the world. He had never known what it was to have a family, but describing these people in that fashion just felt... right. He had Sirius and Remus to represent his parents, and now the Delacours, who he was rapidly becoming close with. And that was to say nothing of his newly-minted wife...
And as the conversation continued around him, he could only pray that he would have this for a long time to come.
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