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Author’s Note: This is just a bit of light-hearted cheesy-ness before the angst, violence and what not in the next chapters…I wrote this before Deathly Hallows so Mrs. Delacour is a lot different to what she is in the book.

A Very Weasley Wedding

The following morning was bright and sunny. Not a trace of fog hung in the air and, for the first time, it truly felt like summer.

Most of the Order were in the kitchen eating breakfast. Mrs. Weasley had invited McGonagall as well. Harry had the impression that the invitation was to cheer the headmistress up after the events of last night. She seemed a little ill and said very little; only the occasional word to Lupin or Kingsley.

Harry ate in silence. Hermione and Ron were determinedly avoiding his gaze and Hermione was stabbing at her toast with unwarranted venom so he suspected they were still angry with him. The others were oblivious to the tension between the three friends and happily continued their conversations.

Kit sat at the end of the table with the twins. She finally seemed to be getting along with Fred. Kit proved to have a tongue as sharp as Snape’s and all three of them were exchanging witticisms and jokes. Harry noticed that Kit was in a much better mood than he was but she had not improved her eating habits. Something that Mrs. Weasley was more than willing to help with.

She headed towards Kit, holding the frying pan in a rather menacing manner. Kit almost seemed to flinch as she approached.

“Take more!” ordered Mrs. Weasley.

“No really, Mrs. Weasley,” insisted Kit. “I couldn’t possibly-”

Mrs. Weasley chose to ignore her and piled some more scrambled eggs on her plate.

“…refuse,” finished Kit lamely.

McGonagall smiled slightly. It was the first time she had done so in a long time and Harry was sure the presence of Snape in the castle had a lot to do with it.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Weasley from work. Mrs. Weasley conjured some more eggs and had started humming.

“Morning Arthur,” she said absently. “Have some…”

When she finally turned to look at her husband, Mrs. Weasley nearly dropped the frying pan in surprise.

Standing behind Mr. Weasley was Rufus Scrimgeour.

“…breakfast,” breathed Mrs. Weasley.

Silence fell on the table. Mrs. Weasley looked around the room for help and, when it did not come, she spoke up in a quiet, nervous voice.

“Good Morning Minister. It’s good to see you again.”

Scrimgeour nodded stiffly.

“Forgive my intrusion,” said Scrimgeour, giving everyone in the room the impression that he was not sorry at all. “I must have a word with Katherine immediately.”

McGonagall nodded. Her features were impassive.

“Certainly Minister,” said McGonagall calmly. “Katherine, would you mind accompanying the Minister to the garden?”

Kit abruptly got to her feet and hurried outside. The minister limped behind her. Mr. Weasley fell into a chair, conjured up a coffee mug and drained the contents in one go. They looked out the window and saw Kit and Scrimgeour talking. Scrimgeour was evidently in a foul mood and Kit seemed more than a little frightened.

“What if he makes her go back to Azkaban?” muttered George.

“They wouldn’t do that,” murmured Mrs. Weasley, more to herself than anyone else. “She’s human now.”

“But she’s still got the abilities of a dementor,” said Tonks quietly.

McGonagall nodded.

“She’s more than capable of performing the Dementor’s Kiss if she has to,” she said. “They destroyed the Soul Box…but they didn’t use it to take those powers back. The minister won’t be adverse to using that against her.”

After exchanging glances, George and Fred got to their feet and tried to discretely walk out of the kitchen.

“Don’t even think about,” said McGonagall.

The twins winced and turned around to face their old teacher.

“About what?” asked Fred, feigning innocence.

McGonagall seemed to be hiding another smile.

“About the extendable ears and eye I know you have in your pockets,” said McGonagall dryly. “I inducted you both into the Order but I can easily rectify that.”

The twin grudgingly sat back down and looked out the window with the others. Scrimgeour seemed to have heard Kit’s undoubtedly altered version of events and was no longer angry. His lion-like features were a mixture of relief and shock. They continued to talk for another five minutes and, though they could not hear what Kit and the Minister were saying, nobody touched their food as they watched them.

Kit returned to the kitchen. At first she kept her features impassive but slowly, a smile formed on her face.

“The Minister has gone,” she said.

“Is everything alright?” asked Mrs. Weasley gently.

“More than alright,” said Kit, her smile widening.

Harry felt himself smiling as well. He was sure that this meant that Kit was finally free of Azkaban.

“And what we discussed?” asked McGonagall.

Kit nodded and did not elaborate. When he realized that his curiosity was not going to be satisfied, Harry returned to his breakfast.


Harry spent a lonely day outside avoiding everyone. He had decided to stop wandering and head inside after he accidentally interrupted a very embarrassed Kit and George from …what they were doing.

He had taken two steps into the Burrow when Hermione and Ron came rushing towards him, both of them livid.

“You…idiot!” shouted Hermione.

No longer able to contain herself, she whacked Harry hard on the arm.

“Ouch! Hermione-”

Harry was silenced by a another blow…this time to the head. Ron was making no attempt to stop her and Harry had a feeling that he wanted to hit Harry too.

“Do you have any idea how bloody worried we’ve were?” snarled Ron.

“You don’t…ouch! Hermione, let me talk!”

Hermione stopped hitting Harry and glared him as he caught his breath and rubbed his sore arms. Her expression turned to shock when Harry explained why he gone after the horcrux alone.

“You guys are my friends,” said Harry dully. “I’m not going to do that to you.”

There was a moment of silence and then Hermione burst into tears.

“Oh Harry!”

Hermione flung her arms around his neck. Completely stunned by Hermione’s change in mood, Harry could only pat her on the back. When Hermione had composed herself and released him, Ron spoke.

“Mate, I know you meant well but…you can’t go without us,” said Ron.


“Look…we’ll talk about this after the wedding alright?” said Ron. “Do you forgive us for attacking you?”

Hermione turned red and mumbled under her breath. Harry tried to stop himself from grinning. Did he forgive them? They had only been worried about him…and now they were on his side again. He would forgive them one hundred times over.

“Don’t worry about it guys,” said Harry with a grin he could no longer hide.

“Well, come on then,” said Ron brightly. “I’m starving.”

As Ron hurried towards the kitchen, Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You’re always starving.”


The conversation at the dinner table was centred solely on the wedding preparations. With Hermione and Ron on his side once more, Harry felt incredibly light-hearted but his feeling of elation was nothing to Fleur’s.

With the day of the wedding approaching Fleur was absolutely…hyper. Bill was smiling slightly to himself at his fiancée’s antics. She seemed to be finding it difficult to say in her seat and her hands were making actions for every word she spoke. She spoke so quickly that Harry was finding hard to understand what she was saying through her French accent.

“I weeshed to invite Professeur Snape but eet would ‘ave been razzer…messy with all ze Aurors I have already asked to come,” said Fleur rapidly.

“Pity,” muttered Ron.

“Ronald,” said Mrs. Weasley warningly.

Fleur continued as though there had been no interruption. She was too excited to be offended.

“Bill and I ‘ave decided on more bridesmaids. I could not leave out ‘Ermione and Keet!” said Fleur. “We ‘ave become so close and zis way we can ‘ave more of Bill brothers in ze procession!”

George cast a glance at Kit who instantly turned pale. Since she was no longer a spy for the Order she no longer had an excuse no to go and Harry had the feeling that the mere thought of being in the procession was rather daunting for her.

Fleur hopped up and down in her seat as she remembered another detail of her wedding plans.

“Ooo…and I ‘ave invited all my friends from Hogwarts!” cried Fleur. “Poor girl…I remember ‘ow fond she was of Cedric Diggory. I had to invite her…I was so close to Cedric myself.”

Harry’s stomach plummeted and Ginny turned scarlet.

“I-I’m sorry…who?” asked Harry.

“You remember Cho Chang!” said Fleur impatiently.

Harry swallowed.

“A… bit,” he muttered.

“She ‘as been so down lately,” said Fleur sadly. “I met ‘er in Diagon Alley ze uzzer day.”

“Harry cheered her up a bit,” muttered George.

George suddenly yelped loudly and clutched his leg under the table. Ginny was looking daggers at him.

“Ginny, what was that for?” he cried.

“Sorry George,” snarled Ginny. “Did I kick you?”

Kit raised her eyebrows and stared determinedly at her plate.

“This is going to be awkward…” muttered Ron to Harry.

Fleur then decided to tell them of another development.

“I’m also inviting Veektor Krum!”

Hermione squeaked and Ron’s ears turned scarlet. Harry took another bite and patted Ron on the shoulder.

“Really awkward,” he agreed.


The day of the wedding was glorious and pleasantly warm. The sky was a pale, forget-me-not blue and was not tarnished by a single cloud. Even the garden gnomes were respecting the occasion and making themselves scarce. Two rows of white pews decorated with tiny white flowers and gold ribbon had been conjured in the garden. It was…in short…perfect.

The mood inside the Burrow however, did not mirror the exterior.

Kit closed her eyes, took a deep breath and walked into Ginny’s bedroom. When she opened her eyes her heart nearly stopped then and there. To Ginny’s utmost disgust, her bedroom had been transformed into a dressing room. There were large mirrors, hundreds of magic potions, every colour of eye make up under the sun and a sinister looking silver instrument with a use Kit could only imagine. To make matters worse…everything was in a light shade of pink.

“Merlin forbid…” muttered Kit in despair.

Ginny grimaced.

“Welcome to hell Kit,” said she bitterly.

Gabrielle Delacour was sitting next to Ginny quietly. She gave Kit a little nod and mumbled a few words of mingled French and English which Kit replied to. Hermione gave Kit a forced smile as the pale girl walked rigidly into the threshold of feminine horror.

“What do you suppose this is?” asked Hermione curiously, holding up the silver instrument.

“Bellatrix and I didn’t discuss make up in Azkaban,” snarled Kit, whose mood was steadily turning foul due to the excess of pink. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?”

Hermione put down the instrument abruptly. They were interrupted by the sound of crying downstairs. Hermione slowly turned to Ginny.

“Percy isn’t coming then?” she muttered.

Ginny’s mood seemed to be as affected as Kit’s.

“Did you really think that pompous bighead would show up?” snapped Ginny.

Kit grimaced and took a seat next to Hermione. Fleur was raced into the bedroom.. Her excitement had long since turned into panic.

“Where are ze dresses?” she cried. “And where eez Molly?”

“Mum’s not doing so well Fleur,” said Ginny quietly. “Because of Percy.”

I am not doing so well!” said Fleur loudly. “My muzzer eez going to be ‘ere any minute-”

“’Ello Fleur.”

Fleur squealed and turned around. Mrs. Delacour stood in the doorway. She was as beautiful as her daughter…and certainly had more vela blood in her. Her beauty however, was slightly compromised by the fact she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. She was wearing black robes as though she was in mourning and she was looking around the Burrow in contempt. Fleur shuffled forward with her head bowed. Ginny raised her eyebrows. Was Fleur…actually frightened of her mother?

“Err…’ello muzzer. ’Ave you seen where Molly eez?” asked Fleur nervously.

“’Oow should I know?” asked Mrs. Delacour in a rather aggressive manner. “She eez probably off catching cheeckens somewhere.”

Ginny’s mouth fell open in disgust and Fleur gasped.

“Muzzer!” cried Fleur. “’Oow could-”

Mrs. Delacour ignored her daughter and turned to the shocked Hermione and Kit and the disgusted Ginny.

“You bridesmaids?” she asked.

Kit and Ginny seemed unable to speak so Hermione forced herself to nod. Mrs. Delacour took one look at Hermione and burst out laughing. Hermione flushed and bit her lip.

“Oh my… do you managed all zis ‘air?” she asked.

“With a brush?” murmured Hermione.

“Hmph…” said Mrs. Delacour in disdain. “No, no, no… you must straighten eet!”

Hermione looked at the floor and mumbled to her feet.

“But…I like it-”

“No buts!” hissed Mrs. Delacour.

Then Mrs. Delacour turned her assault to flabbergasted Kit.

“You! Are you ill?” asked Mrs Delcour sharply.

Kit took a step back from the intimidating French woman.

“No…I’m fine,” she mumbled.

Mrs. Delacour gave Kit a look of distaste. Kit had never been very vain but Mrs Delcour made her want to walk around with a paper bag (or black hood) over her head for the rest of her life.

“You are so…skeenny…and…blanc…and you’re ‘air eez so…fleemsy…”

Kit flinched as Mrs. Delacour took a strand of her thin, brown hair between two fingers and let it fall.

“Rouge…lots of rouge,” added Mrs. Delacour as an after thought, “and something to make your ‘air more…poofy.”

Mrs. Delacour then turned to Ginny.

“And you…”

Ginny glared at Mrs. Delacour until she stopped talking. Unlike Kit and Hermione, Ginny wasn’t going to take any rubbish from her.

“You’re fine,” mumbled Mrs. Delacour.

Mrs. Delacour quickly recovered and returned to her usual self.

“I have ze dresses,” she said coldly.

With a flick of her wand, the dresses appeared on a silver clothes rack. Fleur, Hermione and Gabrielle gasped and Ginny groaned loudly. Kit, who had never worn anything but black in her entire life, stood frozen in horror.

They were fluffy…and pink.

Kit closed her eyes and opened them; clearly hoping she was still blind. Fleur finally found her voice.

“Muzzer…ze bridesmaid dresses were gold!” cried Fleur. “Zey’re…like Tonks’ ‘air!”

At this, Kit unfroze and a moan escaped her lips. Not like Tonks…

“Pfft… gold at a wedding?” snapped Mrs. Delacour. “You’ll look reediculous!”

At this point, Fleur was beside herself.

“But everything eez gold!” she shrieked.

“Not anymore,” said Mrs. Delacour tartly. “I ‘ave dealt with eet.”

With that ominous speech, Mrs. Delacour strode out of the bedroom. Not for long…she’d be back.

“Oh no…” muttered Fleur. “Zis is going to be ‘orrible.”

Ginny gave her future sister-in-law a pat on the shoulder. For once, she completely agreed with her.


It took all Kit’s self restraint not to scream when she looked in the mirror. They were all pink and poofy but Gabrielle and Ginny had escaped the worse of it. Hermione’s bushy brown hair was dead straight. In fact, it had plastered onto her head. Mrs. Delacour had gone slightly overboard with the blush on Kit and she looked like…well…

“I look like Delores Umbridge,” said Kit, her voice strangled and high pitch and her now bright pink features contorted in horror.

“It’s not that bad…” muttered Hermione, fidgeting with the fluffy pink mass that was her skirt.

Kit and Ginny slowly turned to glare at Hermione.

“It’s pink!” they shouted in unison.

Gabrielle was muttered in angrily in French and casting glances at her sister. Fleur poked at the numerous folds of her wedding dress. It was once sleek and elegant. Now she looked…for lack of a better description… fluffy.

“Désolé,” said Fleur with a wince. “My muzzer…she can be a little…well, she eez a widow and…”

They were interrupted yet again, but thankfully this time by Mrs. Weasley. Kit looked away. It was obvious that the woman who had been so kind to her had been crying. Mrs. Weasley looked beautiful in the lovely witch’s hat the twins had given her last Christmas but her face was red and blotchy and she held a very damp handkerchief in her hand. She didn’t even notice the changed dresses.

“Oh I’m sorry Fleur…” said Mrs. Weasley softly. “I should have been here but…I was a bit of a mess this morning. Percy…is not coming…and…”

Mrs. Weasley trailed off and buried her face into her handkerchief. Fleur bit her lip and put a hand on her future mother-in-law’s shoulder. Her needs were greater than Fleur’s at the moment.

“Don’t worry Molly,” said Fleur gently. “Just go sit with ze guests.”

Mrs. Weasley blew her nose in reply and shuffled away. Fleur turned to her bridesmaids who were right now…her only allies.

“Ginny…can you do me favour?”


The Tonks’ walked past the fluffy procession. Tonks was looking rather pretty in emerald green robes. Andromeda had probably made her daughter change her hair colour to black and she looked as uncomfortable as Kit in pink. Andromeda held herself with a little more grace than her daughter and a little less arrogance than her sisters and looked beautiful in robes of midnight blue.

The Tonks’ all tried to smile at Fleur but their smiles faltered and were replaced by looks of concern. Fleur had started to hyperventilate at the thought of what else her mother had in store and Hermione had to conjure a paper bag for her to breathe in.

“Err…good luck Fleur,” said Tonks with a wince.

Tonks made her way towards the guests but yelped as she tripped over Fleur’s trail. She was caught before she hit the floor by Lupin who had a slight smile on his face. He was wearing a pair of black dress robes that looked a little worn but suited him nevertheless.

“All right there Tonks?” smirked Kit.

Tonks gave Lupin a grateful smile as she got back on her feet.

“Sure I’m fine…nice dress by the way,” Tonks smirked back. “Pink suits you.”

Kit rolled her eyes.

“You more than me,” she muttered.

Before she could join the guests, Ginny called out to Andromeda. Andromeda turned to look at Ginny in surprise. Ginny muttered something to her and she scowled.

“We’ll see about that,” said Andromeda shortly.

When Andromeda had left, Hermione frowned at Ginny.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” said Ginny with a grin.


The guests were chatting animatedly but fell silent as a violin and harping started playing themselves. Bill’s smile flickered slightly when he could sight of Fleur and her bridesmaids.

Gabrielle slipped in next to Charlie and tried to make herself scarce. Ginny tried to avoid Harry’s eye as she took her place next to Fred. Ron snorted when he saw Hermione but otherwise managed to control himself. George blinked at Kit as she stood next to him.

“Umm…” mumbled George.

“I know who I look like,” said Kit stiffly. “Don’t say it.”


The celebrant was a rather short, bald man with laughing brown eyes and a pleasant smile. He wore his glasses on the tip of his nose and he held a thick book in his hand.

“Are we starting? Excellent…I’ve always wanted to see some magic!” said the celebrant.

Fleur nearly died then and there.

“You’re a…muggle?” she asked in disbelief.

“Don’t worry,” said the celebrant happily. “My cousin is a witch so I know all about you lot.”

The celebrant flicked through the pages of his book, oblivious to the dilemma he had caused. Magic in front of a muggle?

“Is this legal?” whispered Hermione.

“I don’t know,” answered Kit. “We can hardly stop now though…”

“Now before we begin, I have to ask if they’re any objections to this union?” asked the celebrant gently.

Fleur’s legs gave way from under her and she clutched Bill for support as her mother got to her feet. Mrs. Delacour seemed unable to contain herself.

“Well, I ‘ave problem with me leetle Fleur marrying into such a ‘orrid family!” she said loudly. “She eez obviously deleerious and I-”

Before she could utter another word, Andromeda sprung to her feet and drew her wand.

“Silenco!” hissed Andromeda.

The mute mother gave Andromeda a furious look. Andromeda used her resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange to its full extent and glared right back. Mrs. Delacour made an inaudible squeak and sat back down.

“Don’t worry Fleur,” said Andromeda with a smile. “I’ll have a chat with her after the wedding.”

Fleur gave Andromeda a grateful smile and turned to face the muggle celebrant again.

“Continue,” she said nervously.

The celebrant shuffled on his feet and bit his lip.

“We really should hear what she has to-”

“Zere is no need…really,” insisted Fleur. “I plan to ignore ‘er anyway.”

“O-Oh…alright then.”

The celebrant cleared his throat and peered over his glasses to read the book in his hands.

“Do you…William Weasley…take Fleur Delacour to be you lawfully wedded wife? In good times and bad…”

The celebrant paused and looked meaningfully at Mrs. Delacour. Bill grimaced.

“We get the point,” muttered Bill. “Keep going.”

The celebrant continued with a jerk of his head. Bill looked Fleur in the eye and smiled as he said ‘I do’. Fleur beamed and practically shouted ‘I do’. The muggle celebrant closed the book and smiled at them both.

“In that case…I now pronounce you both husband and wife.”

With a cry of delight, Fleur Weasley threw her arms around Bill’s neck and a grinning Bill kissed her. There was a loud cheer from all the guests except Mrs Delacour who could not and did not want to make a sound. Mrs Weasley burst into tears of joy and buried her face into her handkerchief. The Weasley Twins gave a simultaneous shout and set off what appeared to be a whole box of Weasleys’ Wildfire Wiz-bangs Deflagration Deluxe. Harry risked a glance at Ginny. She was on her feet and cheering loudly. She met Harry’s gaze and smiled.

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