by Harry Potter
“Did he bring any extra security?” asked Harry while he scanned the parameter of the field in hopes of finding guards.
“There has to be,” stated Hermione as she too joined Harry in his visual search for security. “What if the Death Eaters attack? It would be an opportune time for it. This would be too perfect a target to pass up.”
“Well, the Ministry has taken steps if such an attack happens,” said Remus as he pointed out the purple flyer that was set at the middle of the center piece. Hermione picked up the flyer and Harry leaned in close so that he could read along with her.
The very official looking flyer stated:
“In case of an attack by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and/or his followers (Death Eaters, Werewolves, Giants, Vampires, Inferi), Harry J. Potter (AKA The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One, and Dumbledore’s Man Through and Through) will orally stimulate Hermione J. Granger in hopes of a powerful bout of accidental magic wherein the attacking forces will be hit with a series of Hovering Charms and be rendered helpless.
“If the bout of accidental magic doesn’t occur, then at least our last remaining moments on this planet will be entertaining as we watch Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger in their efforts.
“As a precaution, the Ministry recommends that the guest surrounding Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger should cast an Umbrella Charm as Ms. Granger is inclined to get very wet and things around her tend to get thoroughly soaked.”
Harry broke out in a cold sweat. He looked at Hermione and saw that the witch was trembling and her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
“Quite ingenious actually, if you think about it” Remus stated. “Voldemort would never expect such a defense.”
Remus leaned over to the table next to them and asked the grey haired wizard who was reading his own pamphlet; “What do you think about that?”
“It looks delightful,” the man replied as he licked his lips hungrily.
Harry looked around him and saw that nearly every guest was pointing at the pamphlets and talking amongst themselves in jolly tones. Harry and Hermione shared a mortified look. Without speaking to each other, they both shot out of their chairs. Hermione dashed to the left while Harry ran to the right. Harry snatched the purple parchment from an old witch’s hands and quickly read it. He almost fainted when he got to the line “... will orally stimulate Hermione J. Granger...”
Looking up, Harry found a very green faced Hermione reading a copy of the pamphlet on another table. Hermione looked as if she was about to get sick, faint, and cry (maybe not in that order necessarily). With her lip trembling, Hermione looked at Harry pitifully. Harry walked up to Hermione and threw his arms around her in a comforting hug.
“Don’t worry, Hermione,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “We’ll get through this.”
“This will be worse than that time Skeeter wrote those horrible things about me,” she cried miserably in his arms.
“Excuse me,” the old witch that Harry had taken the pamphlet away from said in an angry tone. “But I would like my menu back!”
The woman pulled the paper from Harry’s fingers and marched back to her seat muttering about how rude he was.
“Did... did she say ‘menu’?” Hermione asked with her face still buried in Harry’s chest.
Harry looked to the table next to them and saw a man raise the pamphlet to his mouth and state, “Roast duck, please.” He handed the offending paper to the woman next to him who repeated the process and said, “Trout, please.” Within seconds, delicious looking dishes of duck and fish appeared out of thin air in front of the couple.
Harry and Hermione’s attention was drawn back to their table as they heard riotous laughter. They saw Tonks doubled over, pounding her fist on the table as she snorted in an as unladylike way as possible. Remus, too, was howling with laughter. For a second, Harry wondered what could make Tonks and Remus laugh during this very upsetting time for both Harry and Hermione. Their lives were ruined, and the Metamorphmagus and the former Marauder were laughing like...
The former Marauder...
Harry released Hermione and stomped over to Remus growling, “You son of a...” Chapter Five Summary: Things get revealed at the reception... along with Harry and Hermione’s relationship.
“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione implored, while tugging on Harry’s arm as he stomped over to the laughing duo of Remus and Tonks. “What did that old witch mean about a menu? And why are those two laughing?”
“Because HE...” Harry hissed and pointed an accusing finger at Lupin, “is a Marauder!”
“He... he...” stammered Hermione while looking between Harry and Remus. “He pranked us?” she asked of Harry. Before he could respond, she turned to Remus and asked, “You pranked us?”
“Guilty as charged,” confessed Remus in-between peals of laughter.
“You... You lousy prat!” Hermione shouted, her face twisted with rage. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Harry was about to join Hermione in her tirade when he noticed her features soften. Her rage-filled expression transformed into the same look she had at the beginning of every class they shared. The look clearly showed her desire of learning something new.
“How did you do it?” pleaded Hermione.
“By discretely placing a Confundus Charm on the two of you before we sat down,” Remus stated, finally controlling his laughter. Tonks, however, continued to laugh hysterically. In fact, Harry thought that she appeared to be on the edge of soiling herself.
“Oh Merlin that was brilliant!” declared Tonks. “I was the one who put in the line about the Umbrella Charm...” Tonks paused as another fit of laughter hit her. “I had to, after seeing Harry’s face dripping... he must’ve done a bang up job get you so wet Hermione.”
“Shut it, Tonks!” Hermione ordered and then turned her attention back to Remus. “But a Confundus doesn’t work that way,” Hermione pointed out. Luckily for Harry’s sake, she did not see him swell with masculine pride at Tonks’ backhanded compliment.
“Yes, that’s why I applied Pilliwickle’s Theory to the charm,” informed Remus.
“That can’t be right, either. Pilliwickle’s Theory only relates to Memory Charms...” Hermione began to argue, but trailed off as she suddenly got a look on her face as if she was doing complex long division in her head. After a moment, she announced her understanding with a simple, “Oh, yes; that could work.”
Harry picked up Hermione’s dropped anger, “You still nearly gave us both heart attacks!” He was still mad at his former DADA professor for the prank. Harry was also a little mad because he had no idea who Pilliwickle was nor any theory named for him so he felt left out of Hermione and Remus’ discussion, which made him a touch bitter. “We thought everyone saw what we saw!”
“Don’t get so upset. The menu prank was better than what Tonks had planned for you,” Remus defended himself, and Tonks abruptly stopped her riotous laughter. “She wanted to hook up a magical projector to a Pensieve and show everyone here in attendance just what it was that she saw yesterday morning.”
The two teens gasped at the mental image of a holographic rendition of themselves hovering over the reception party; their naked bodies intertwined for everyone to see. Harry realized that if Tonks had done just that, quite a large contingent of the wedding party would be shocked to say the least. He reckoned that the motherly Mrs. Weasley would faint, Ginny would more than likely sob, and Ron’s face would become red with rage. However, Harry imagined that Fred and George’s reaction would be more along the lines of “Nice form mate,” and “Didn’t you get a crick in you neck doing that?” Both Harry and Hermione turned their attention to Tonks. The currently pink-haired Auror recoiled at the visible anger in the two teens’ eyes.
Harry and Hermione’s verbal assault on Tonks for her loathsome plan was prematurely aborted when a lanky red-head wizard stepped in Harry’s way and blithely said, “Hi, Harry!”
Ron, after greeting Harry, turne
d his attention to Hermione. Ron’s face got very red and a hopeful glint shined in his eyes. “H-hello there, H-hermione,” he greeted in what he assumed to be a seductive manner. Harry thought it would’ve been more seductive if Ron hadn’t stammered and even more so if his voice didn’t hitch and crack slightly.
Behind him, Harry could hear Hermione make a small “eep” noise out of panic. The bespectacled wizard forgot his anger toward Remus and Tonks as he looked at his two best friends. Ron, his best mate, was obviously very happy: he was literally hopping in place as he looked at the brunette witch. Hermione, however, looked like she was on the verge of a stroke-inducing panic attack.
Harry remembered that Hermione wanted to be the one who told Ron about their newfound relationship; that she said that she had an intricate plan on exactly what to say and how to tell him. She probably had even gone as far as to draw diagrams in her daily planner. But the look in Hermione’s eyes told Harry that not only did she forget what she had planned to tell Ron, but that she was about four steps beyond nervous, well into terror territory.
Hermione looked between Harry and Ron nervously, once, then twice, but on the third nervous glance, she spotted something in the distance. Harry followed her eyes to a small, furry, purple creature, sitting on a low wall near the house. It took Harry a moment to recognize it as Arnold, Ginny’s pet Pygmy Puff. Hermione tore her eyes away from Arnold to stare at Ron. A very long and silent moment later, Hermione looked back at Arnold and with a hint of panic in her voice, announced, “Oooh, look a tribble!” She then promptly scurried away like a frightened mouse toward the useless pet, leaving Harry alone with Ron.
“What’s a tribble?” asked Ron, who looked a little perplexed but was still hopping in place like an idiot.
“It’s a Muggle thing,” Harry answered simply as he saw Hermione pet, in an almost frantic way, the brightly colored creature.
“Whatever. Anyway, you owe me, mate,” Ron declared as he playfully thumped Harry on the shoulder. Although the thump was less “playful” and more “painful”; apparently among many things in his life, Ron didn’t know his own strength.
“Owe you for what?” Harry asked as he rubbed his soon to be bruised shoulder.
“You owe me for interrupting a perfect moment,” began Ron. “When you Owled Hermione the other day, asking her for help, I was about to ‘dodge the second bludger’, if you know what I mean.” Ron concluded this statement with a saucy wink. At that moment in time, Harry realized that he would be more than content if he never saw Ron give him a “saucy wink” ever again. It was even more disturbing having his best male friend give him a “saucy wink” than it was when McGonagall had given him the “saucy smile”. A bloke shouldn’t give another bloke a “saucy wink”. Ever. It was on par with a bloke complimenting another bloke on his choice in shoes. It just wasn’t done.
“No,” Harry answered trying not to shudder at the inappropriate wink, “I don’t know what you mean. Not in the slightest.”
“You know...” Ron said impishly and made a rather rude hand gesture as if he was cupping a breast. Either that or kneading dough - Harry wasn’t too certain.
“Oh,” Harry replied. He was stunned. He and Ron never spoke before about things like fondling boobs, which was odd seeing that they were both teenage boys and all teenage boys ever think about is food and sex. Sometimes they even combine the two subjects in conversation. But one thing Ron and Harry had never talked about was Hermione’s boobs. Ron, being Ron and not noticing Harry’s stunned expression, walked over to the table where Tonks and Remus were at and sat down in Hermione’s vacant seat. As Ron picked up the purple pamphlet, he gestured for Harry to sit next to him.
“Beef stew, blood pudding, grilled heron, and, um, spotted dick,” Ron stated clearly to the menu. After four plates piled with copious amounts of food appeared in front of Ron, he handed the pamphlet to Harry. “Eat up, Harry.”
Harry looked at the pamphlet once more. Unfortunately all he could see was the same practical joke that Remus had engineered. His eyes involuntarily focused on the phrase: “...Ms. Granger is inclined to get very wet...”
“Ugh, I don’t care much for the heron at all,” Ron said as he pushed one of the plates away from him. “I thought I’d give it a try, after hearing so much nonsense about it. Whatever you do, Harry, don’t order it; it’s awful. But I heard the trout’s supposed to be pretty good.”
“Oh, I know Harry likes red snatch-er, whoops slip of the tongue,” Tonks said with far too much emphasis on “snatch” and “tongue” and still had that damned devilish look in her eyes. “I meant to say ‘red snapper’.”
Harry groaned pitifully at Tonks’ crude behavior and Remus deftly changed subjects before Ron caught on. Of course, knowing Ron, the only way the red-haired wizard would catch on is if Harry explained Tonks’ statement by saying “Tonks caught me eating out your girlfriend,” and then Harry would more then likely have to draw a picture for Ron. He tends to be a bit slow you see. Especially when he’s distracted by food.
“So Ron, what have you been doing with your holiday?” the not-so-former-Maurarder-because-he’s-still-pranking asked
“There’s not much to say,” Ron responded, “except for me and Hermione getting together.”
“What?” Remus and Tonks blurted in unison. They looked at Harry questioningly. Apparently, they didn’t know that Hermione and Ron had started dating around Dumbledore’s funeral (which, Harry thought unflatteringly, as everyone knows, is a great place to pick up birds). Nor did they know that Hermione soon realized that she and Ron had absolutely nothing in common, whereas she and Harry had a great deal in common. With a simple shrug of his shoulders, Harry tried to tell them this all, and more importantly to Harry, just how perfect and special Hermione made him feel.
“Yeah,” replied Ron to the two so-called adults’ query, oblivious to Harry’s non-verbal interchange with Remus and Tonks. “We were getting to know each other in a ‘more than friends’ way, if you know what I mean. But then Harry had to ruin the moment because he needed Hermione for something.”
“Oh,” Tonks said aloud, as if it all made sense to her now. Which of course, judging by the confused look she had on her face, it didn’t.
“Excuse me, everyone,” Charlie announce from the head table, inadvertently putting an end to Ron’s awkward conversation. “It is my privilege as Best Man to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley!” The guests all clapped and cheered as Bill and Fleur walked onto the dance floor. “Let’s watch the happy couple as they take their first dance as man and wife!”
Screeching music started to play, although Harry wasn’t able to determine where it came from. The Bride and Groom began to waltz elegantly around the dance floor.
“I can’t wait to dance with Hermione,” Ron declared while scanning the crowd, trying to find the witch in question.
“You do know that you have to dance with Ginny first, right?” Remus asked, attempting to diffuse the increasingly tense situation.
“Dance with my sister?” Ron retorted scathingly. “We’re not Welsh!”
Remus sighed dejectedly before explaining, “The first dance is for the Bride and Groom. Everyone joins the new couple for the second dance. However, the members of the Bridal Party have to dance with their partners first.”
“But who’ll dance with Hermione while I-” Ron began to weakly argue his case to which Harry responded, a bit too quickly and too energetically:
“I’LL DO IT!” he shouted.
“Thanks Harry, I knew I could count on you.” Ron said proudly as he, again, playfully, or rather; painfully thumped Harry on the shoulder. “Well, I guess I’d better go find Ginny,” Ron continued as he stood up. He turned to Harry and pointed at the shorter wizard and threatened him in a mocking way, “Now, don’t you go and try to steal my girl now!”
“Okay, I won’t...” Harry whimpered pathetically. Giving Harry the “thumbs up” signal, Ron turned and went to find his sister
.
Harry looked at Remus and Tonks who both still looked quite surprised.
“Well thank Merlin Ron doesn’t have to worry about you stealing his girlfriend, now does he?” Tonks asked as she watched Ron walk away.
“Tonks, hush,” Remus said as he looked at Harry with concern.
With a weak shrug towards Remus and Tonks, Harry left the table to find Hermione.
It didn’t take him long to find her. He found Hermione by the low wall with Arnold, the Pygmy Puff. She seemed to have her entire focus on Arnold and was still petting him; one could even describe her motions as “pathological petting.”
“Hey, you okay?” Harry cooed as he walked up to her.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Hermione began, still petting the silly tribble-like creature. “I had it all planned out: what to say to him and how I’d say it. But when I saw him, I... I... I completely froze up.”
“S’okay, I know how that feels,” said Harry. “Would you like for me to tell him?”
“No, I should be the one,” Hermione replied. “I’m just waiting for the proper time to do it. I don’t think it would be good to tell him here. Could you imagine the scene that he would cause?”
“Maybe we’ll tell him tomorrow, then” suggested Harry, to which Hermione replied with a nod. In the distance, Harry heard the song for the first dance end. “Would you care to dance?”
Hermione blushed slightly before responding: “I thought you’d never ask.”
The two quietly made their way to the dance floor. Slow pleasant music filled the air (though to Harry, it was still a little screechy, like all wizarding music tended to be). Harry took Hermione in his arms and began to dance. They danced in slow circles around the floor, passing Remus and Tonks who were lost in each others eyes.
“They seem so happy together,” Hermione commented while they watched the older couple. “As if they were made for each other.”
“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “Who saw that coming? I don’t even recall them even sharing a conversation anytime in the past two years.”
