A Light of Meaning

The ceremony was about as clichéd as possible; the bride cried through the whole thing, the groom beamed, the vows, the kiss...Harry almost wished he and Ginny could have had something similar. But it didn’t really matter; even if all of their families hadn’t been there, he and Ginny had still had that perfect moment, when their eyes had met, their throats caught and everything and everyone else had ceased to exist. That was what mattered.

When the gathering moved to the enormous reception tent, Harry, Hermione and Ron waited in their seats for a bit. Hermione sighed. “It was lovely.”

Harry shrugged. “It went on a bit, but it was okay. Overall, I think I prefer mine and Ginny’s…at least it was short.”

Hermione scowled. “Harry, some people consider their wedding day the single most beautiful and meaningful day of their lives!”

“So do I, and I didn’t need a fancy celebration for that. I wouldn’t mind all the ceremony, but it wasn’t the important part. The only thing I regret is that most of Ginny’s family wasn’t there; if they had been, it would’ve been perfect.”

“Oh…” Hermione smiled. “I can hardly fault you for that, Harry. Have you ever told that to Ginny?” Harry shook his head. “Well, I suggest you do; I’m sure you’ll be pleased with her reaction.” She turned to Ron. “What did you think of the wedding, Ron?”

Ron shook himself, like he’d been in a daze. “Huh? Oh…it was good. Bill looked really happy, you know? I’m glad that what happened – you know, the attack and him getting hurt – didn’t keep him from getting this. Bill really deserves it.”

Harry and Hermione both nodded their agreement; then, to their surprise, Ron laughed. “What’s so funny?” Harry asked.

“I just realized…it’s right that Bill’s married, he’s the oldest, right? But then I realized the youngest of us got married first! And then the oldest, right after! It’s just…not how I would’ve expected things to go.”

“Does that…bother you?” Hermione asked carefully.

Ron glanced back up at the stage before grinning and shaking his head. “Nah. Most of the last six years of my life haven’t gone the way I’d have thought they would. Some of it’s been bloody horrible…but most of it, I couldn’t bear it if it’d gone any other way.”

Hermione stared intently at Ron for a long moment. Then abruptly she stood, and stepped past Ron out of the rows of seats. She extended her hand to Ron, who took it nervously in his; “Er, where’re we going?”

“You are going to take me somewhere private, because I very desperately want to kiss you and I don’t think your mother would be able to keep her temper if I did so in front of everyone.”

Ron blushed. “Oh- er, yeah, there’s a spot over here…” Hermione walked off in the direction Ron had pointed, pulling Ron along after her; Ron looked back and gave Harry an embarrassed little shrug.

Chuckling, Harry stood and headed for the tent. When he entered he caught a glimpse of Ginny talking to Luna and Gabrielle on the other side of the tent; he caught her eye and nodded, and she smiled back before returning to her conversation. They’d agreed before arriving that they would spend most of the reception apart, to minimize the potential for arguments. Of course, that meant that if Harry wanted to avoid being harassed by a bunch of people he didn’t know about being “The Chosen One” or “The Boy Who Lived”, he needed someone to talk to, quickly.

Fortunately for Harry, Angelina appeared beside him just as he entered the tent. “Hey,” she said, “talk to me, will you? Everyone here is either old, or their accents are too thick to understand them.”

Harry grinned. “So where’s Fred?”

“I believe he and George are attempting to get close enough to the punch to spike it with firewhiskey,” Angelina answered dismissively.

“I guess we should consider ourselves lucky they aren’t trying to replace the hors d’oeuvres with Canary Creams,” Harry said thoughtfully. Angelina laughed.

Harry and Angelina chatted a while; Harry hadn’t gotten the chance to hear about her experiences as a member of England’s National Quidditch team. From her descriptions, she was being worked into the ground, and was loving every minute of it. Occasionally someone would catch a glimpse of Harry and accost him with questions or babbling, but Angelina’s acerbic wit cut through the nonsense with a sharp finality Harry had never been able to accomplish. “Thanks, Angelina,” Harry said quietly after yet another would-be harasser had been sent scurrying off with his tail between his legs. “I appreciate your- er, playing guard for me.”

Angelina smiled wanly. “I know you hate that stuff, Harry. And hey, it gives me the chance to vent my spleen. So we both win.”

“You win? Do you get a prize?” Fred asked as he and George appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m guessing you’re it,” Angelina said, immediately grabbing Fred and snogging him until he was purple.

“He must be a consolation prize,” Harry muttered. “So is the punch spiked yet?” he asked George.

“Alas, we couldn’t get left alone with the drinks for even a moment,” George said with a heavy sigh. “However, I would suggest, and I admit nothing, that you may wish to avoid the pastries on the third table.”

“Uh…George, it was the second table,” Fred corrected.

“No it wasn’t!” George paused. “Or was it?”

“Well, the first table is perfectly safe, anyway,” Fred said. “I think.”

“Er, Fred…the first table has the wedding cake,” Harry pointed out.

Fred and George stared blankly at Harry. “What’s your point, Harry?” George asked eventually.

Angelina glanced at Harry. “Suddenly I’m glad I ate a big breakfast.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll wait for lunch until I’m back at the house,” Harry agreed with a nod.

“Spoilsports,” George groused. “Oh well…Fred, I do believe it’s time to find our eldest brother and horribly embarrass him in front of Fleur’s family.”

“Why don’t you just give him his gift?” Harry suggested hastily.

“That’s what I said,” George answered innocently, and walked off arm in arm with Fred.

Harry watched them go with trepidation. “You don’t know what their gift is, do you?” he asked Angelina nervously.

Angelina shook her head. “Fred just said that George had a brilliant idea,” she replied.

Harry noticed Angelina’s wistful smile. “You do realize that they’re probably going to make things worse with their parents, right?”

“Maybe, but…I dunno, Harry, has Fred seemed kind of tame lately?”

Harry nodded; he’d noticed the same thing. “Yeah, him and George both. I figured it was because of their mum and dad.”

“And Ron,” Angelina insisted. “This last week, and especially today, Fred’s been more like the old Fred, and I’m sure it’s because of Ron.”

“What’s because of me?” Ron and Hermione walked up; Hermione’s hair was coming loose from the delicate style it’d been placed in, and there was some dirt on Ron’s outfit. Harry smirked.

“Fred and George’s being more like themselves,” Angelina said in answer to Ron. “By the way, don’t eat anything unless you fancy sprouting feathers.”

“Oh, they didn’t!” Hermione exclaimed hotly.

“They did,” Harry insisted.

“Honestly,” Hermione muttered, “their parents will never forgive them!”

“Bloody prats,” Ron complained. “I’m really hungry!”

“Yeah, all that snogging in secret really builds an appetite, huh?” Angelina chortled when Ron and Hermione blushed. “Shall we go and see what ‘brilliant’ gift your brothers chose to mortify Bill and Fleur with?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna miss that,” Ron said with a grin.

The four of them collected Ginny and Luna; the group arrived just as Fred and George were presenting a wrapped box roughly a foot across to Fleur and Bill, with a few relatives looking on, including Charlie and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. “Joy and felicitations, oldest of the elder brothers,” George was saying. “May this gift bring you and your blushing bride many days and/or nights of happiness.”

“Er…thanks, George,” Bill said, eyeing the package nervously.

“Guillaume, I’m sure your brothers got us something exciting,” Fleur insisted, smiling beatifically at Fred and George.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Bill pushed the box in front of Fleur. “You open it,” he said, watching Fred and George; he wasn’t comforted when both of their grins grew wider.

Like a child at Christmas, Fleur tore open the wrapping. When she lifted the lid, those who knew Fred and George all took a step backward, and Bill leaned away as far as he could. Nothing exploded or leapt from inside, but when Fleur looked inside she gasped. “What?” Bill asked anxiously. “Fleur, what is it?”

“Oh, Guillaume…” Breathlessly, Fleur reached inside and withdrew Fred and George’s gift.

It was a cat-o’-nine-tails whip, with twenty or so broad tails made of soft suede. The handle was thin and tightly wrapped; perfect for a woman’s hand. And the suede was dyed in alternating red and gold – Gryffindor colors. “”Very symbolic,” Angelina murmured amusedly.

“Guillaume...it is perfect!” Harry’s eyes darted up to Fleur’s face; she was staring at the whip with a frighteningly possessive expression. “It is just right, oui?”

“What?” Fred blurted out; his and George’s faces were identical masks of incredulity and mounting fear.

Fleur stood and leaned across the table to throw her arms around Fred and George’s necks, hugging them tightly; the whip was still in her hand, and a few of the tails tapped the back of Fred’s head. “Oh, but ‘ow did you know? It is just what our collection needs!”

“Collection?” Charlie asked. Everyone’s eyes turned to Bill, who was as red as his hair, and appeared to be trying to disappear, anti-Apparition field or not.

“I think perhaps it’s time for another gift,” Mr. Weasley said shortly. When Harry glanced at Mrs. Weasley he had to agree; it was probably a miracle Fred and George were still unhexed.

Harry nudged Ginny. “Should we give it to them now?” he whispered.

Ginny nodded reluctantly. “Might as well get it over with.” She stepped forward with Harry right behind her, and all eyes turned to them; Bill’s relief was palpable. “We have something for you, too,” Ginny said softly with a nervous smile, and took the small envelope Harry handed to her. “This is from Harry and me. Um, congratulations.”

Bill smiled at Ginny as he slit open the envelope. “Ginn, you didn’t have to do this…” he said as he read over the letter inside. Then his eyes widened. He read the letter again. He read the words on the two cardboard tickets. He looked up at Ginny and Harry incredulously. “You can’t be serious!”

“Guillaume? What is it?” Fleur took the letter from Bill and gasped when she read it. “Two Portkey vouchers to anywhere in the world? And-” she looked up with her mouth an O of shock. “And a thousand Galleons!”

“For your honeymoon,” Ginny explained. “We heard you weren’t going to get to go where you really wanted…well, now you can, right?”

“But- but Ginny…you can’t possibly afford this!” Bill exclaimed.

“Yeah, she can,” Harry answered with a grin. “Or at least, we can. The Black estates are mine now- that is, ours.”

“We really want you to have this,” Ginny said. “You should have the best honeymoon you can.”

“That’s enough!” Everyone jumped and stared at Mrs. Weasley, who was glaring at Harry and Ginny murderously. “It’s not enough that you’ve made fools of us, made the name Weasley a joke to the entire Wizarding World? It’s not enough to spurn us for a childish crush? Now you have to humiliate us! Mock us for being poor, rub our noses in it!”

“No!” Ginny cried in distress. “I wouldn’t ever! Harry and I just wanted-”

“What you and Harry want always comes first, does it?” Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

“Now wait a moment, Molly,” Arthur said.

“Arthur Weasley, don’t you dare take her side again!”

“STOP IT!” It was as much a howl as a shout; Bill had leapt to his feet and was facing down Mrs. Weasley as though daring her to utter another word. With his face still scarred, and his posture and his expression, Bill looked truly fearsome – maybe a bit of wolf had gotten into him after all. “Not at my wedding,” he growled. Mrs. Weasley started to say something but Bill cut her off; “You swore you wouldn’t do this today, mum! Either keep your promise or go away!”

After a long, horrifying moment of complete stillness and silence, Mrs. Weasley spun sharply and stalked away; Mr. Weasley threw an ugly look at Bill before following after her.

The continued silence was broken when a choked sob escaped from Ginny. Harry immediately pulled her close, and she pressed herself to him and gave up fighting her tears. “I c-can’t…H-Harry, I can’t do this!” she wailed, and Harry knew just what she meant. He’d found his family with Ginny, and that family was falling apart in front of him.

Bill ran around the table and took Ginny’s hand. “Ginn, we’ll fix this somehow,” he said softly. “It’ll probably wear off eventually…mum can’t do this every family gathering!”

Ginny let go of Harry and threw her arms around Bill. “I just w-wanted to be here with you!” she sobbed. “It shouldn’t b-be like this…”

Ron stepped forward to offer his comfort along with Bill’s, and Charlie, Fred and George joined them right after. Harry held Hermione back when she tried to step forward. “Give them a second,” he said. “This is the first time in more than a month all the Weasley children have been together – well, not counting Percy.” Hermione swallowed sadly and nodded. Harry glanced over at Luna and Angelina, who were also looking on somberly. Even Fleur was holding back, recognizing a moment had been cut out of time and reserved for the Weasley children, and no one else.

“Tell Ginny I’ll be back,” Harry said abruptly, and spun to leave.

“Wait!” Hermione reached out and grabbed Harry’s arm. “Where are you going?”

“We’re supposed to be fighting for each other, to protect each other and make things better,” Harry said with an edge in his voice. “But what good is what we accomplish if it means a family as close as the Weasleys is torn apart? I swore I’d take down Voldemort, but I won’t sacrifice what we’re trying to save in the process! I’m going to settle this. Right now.”