December 2005,
Seven Years, Seven Months, and 4 Days since the defeat of Tom Riddle…
Magic is a funny thing.
It gives as much as it takes.
As Harry Potter can attest, Magic takes a lot out of someone.
But, in this instance, Magic is going to give back to one - or several, depending on the outcome of the meeting he'd slipped into in the back-back-room of The Leaky Cauldron - lucky person the chance to be with someone previously unattainable.
The reason why he was there in a first place?
He wanted his fair chance to court Hermione without interference from any other witch or wizard.
Why was that important?
Because over the course of the past seven-plus years, seven-plus years since Tom Riddle was reduced to naught but wind-borne ashes, not one witch or wizard had been able to successfully date the Brightest Witch of her Age without some sort of interference, sabotage, or intrusion from someone else equally interested in securing the most sought-after bachelorette in the Wizarding World for themselves.
Magic took his parents. Blood-lust took his godfather. One megalomaniac's quest for Wizarding Domination took Fred, Remus, Tonks and so many others. Not Dumbledore. Nope. Hermione was adamant about that one, and Harry, Sirius, Snape, Luna, Remus, and all three Malfoys whole-heartedly agreed: Dumbledore died from a self-inflicted overdose of hubris.
That is, until Hermione brokered a deal directly with Death. Yep. Death himself answered Hermione's Summons. Seven months, four days, and three hours - to the minute - of Voldemort's demise, a twenty year-old witch engaged in negotiations with Death.
Alone in a Death Circle in a grove ringed with the twelve sacred trees with Death himself, Hermione made her case.
The outcome?
There were four more people in the Wizarding world.
As she'd partially explained, because Harry knew that there had to be A LOT that she didn't tell him about the 'why', 'how', and 'what the fuck were you thinking' questions that Harry demanded answers to, for every one of Riddle's horcruxes that were destroyed, Hermione deemed that Death owed the Living a life.
Sirius, in exchange for Hufflepuff's Cup. Only fair, seeing as how Bellatrix had propelled Sirius through the Veil and that Bellatrix hid the Cup in her vault. Of course it was a godson's sacred duty, an Heir of the Marauders moral imperative, to charm every single one of Sirius' beloved leather jackets into Hufflepuff-themed blazers and sweater vests. To this day, Remus Lupin was the Sole Protector of the Photograph. The Photograph - always referred to as having capital letters as was Remus' honorific - was the only copy in existence of Sirius, asleep in his bed and blissfully pissed out of his mind, cuddling with an adult-sized, badger-shaped, Bed Buddy.
Regulus Black, in exchange for the destruction of Slytherin's Locket. Again - only fitting. Harry had no trouble wrapping his brain around that one. The youngest Black had died twenty-odd years ago after stealing the Cursed necklace. Only fitting that the wizard lived again because the damned thing met the pointy-end of Gryffindor's sword. But fuck-all if Death didn't do that wizard a favor beyond restoring his life. The twenty-odd years he'd been dead hadn't cost Regulus one gray hair. To look at him and cast a Tempus spell, the wizard was only a year or two older than Charlie Weasley!
Speaking of the only Weasley wizard present… Charlie. Not as tall as Bill or Ron, but definitely rugged with his shaggy strawberry blond hair and well-formed through his arms, chest, and thighs, Charlie was definitely competition: former Quidditch captain, affable, and the protector of dangerous, much misunderstood, and often abused sentient creatures. If there was a bloke that appealed to Hermione the Crusader, this would be the chap. Not to mention that Charlie was the one who'd introduced Hermione to a troupe of Romani gypsies who had in turn provided the pretty, petite, witch with oral histories that played a significant part in Hermione's epically successful portkey project.
As for Fred… The diary? No luck there. Ginny's life-force returned to her when Harry had stabbed the blasted diary with the basilisk fang. According to Hermione, Death said that was an even swap. Pity, as Harry would've preferred to have Fred up and walking about instead of the crazy stalker-fangirl that followed him everywhere, whining about when they were going to get back together and asking him to approve of the font on their wedding invitations. There was only so much crazy Harry could take! Ginny Weasley could tart herself up or make like the most devout nun and Harry would still have absolutely nothing to do with her or her single-minded intention to become the one-and-only Mrs. Potter.
As far as Harry was concerned, the only Mrs. Potters he recognized were those on the Potter family tree.
Though, if things went his way tonight, it might not be too long before the title of Mrs. Potter passed to Hermione.
He mentally sported a broad smile at that thought.
It would be so good to have that specific witch, one who'd stood by him, prodded him, confided in him, and with whom he felt absolutely safe with, share the rest of his long Wizarding life. Not to mention: how could he NOT help but love a woman who brokered the return of Sirius but also Severus Snape?
As always, she blithely pish-poshed his amazement at that feat with a casual, 'Neville gave me his proxy from when he decapitated of Nagini."
Hence the reason why Severus Snape now stood elbow-to-elbow with Lucius Malfoy amid this very interesting…diverse…group of attendees.
When Hermione told Harry about that particular aspect of her negotiations, Snape in exchange for Nagini, Harry got the distinct impression that Death was exceptionally tickled by the whole Snape-business. It was quite circular, really: Snape had terrified and terrorized Neville for needing Hermione's help during Potions, Nagini killed Snape, Neville killed Nagini, and Neville, via Hermione, was the reason why Snape lived wherever he now lived and no longer resided perpendicular to the black obelisk planted near Dumbledore's tomb. A tad crooked, true, but definitely circular.
Harry's scar, the final Horcrux, was another even-swap. Harry lived, the piece of Voldemort's soul didn't. Hermione was quite put-out about losing that one. But, as she'd won her arguments for Regulus, Sirius, and Snape, she couldn't begrudge Death too much for trumping in that instance.
She didn't win for the Ring either. Hermione wanted James or Lily, or Cedric. Death argued that since Harry had actually spoken with his parents, Sirius, and Remus Lupin while on his way to sacrifice himself then that qualified as resurrection, regardless of duration. And, to listen to her retell that part of her story, "Death really is the final authority on a LOT of things, so there wasn't much I could do about that", Harry could smell the metaphorical sour-grapes on her breath as she attempted to be blasé about losing that particular round.
She countered Death with Ravenclaw's diadem. Death didn't have a valid counter-argument. Thus, Remus Lupin was returned to the land of the living. The way the re-instated wizard held little Teddy once he was a living breathing Lycan, sans the vicious monthly transformations - who knew Death had a heart? - was something that Harry hoped one day he'd mirror with his own children.
In his heart-of-hearts, Harry pictured three children, two girls and a boy, each perfect mixes of him and Hermione; the four of them kicking a football in the backyard of their family's home as Hermione watched from the back porch, their wedding rings glinting in the afternoon sunlight as their children laughed and played.
Another wizard, Anthony Goldstein, entering the room, dissolved Harry's tableau. Just great. Another Contender whose Wizard-tarian efforts matched Hermione's, cause-for-cause.
All in all, Harry counted twenty-two other witches and wizards all vying for the same chance he needed.
Lucius Malfoy stood with Severus Snape. It was easy to see that those two were going to present the triad-angle. Harry could 'see' the headline for the two older wizards' personal ad: Pure-blood, Half-blood, needing a Muggle-born to close their Circle of Political Gain and Societal Redemption. If those two were a Jane Austin novel, it would be titled Snark and Snobbery.
Interestingly enough, Narcissa Malfoy - Narcissa Black, as her divorce from Lucius had become final three years ago - was also in the room. Beside her sat her sister Andromeda. It required very little extrapolation for Harry to see that older, stunningly beautiful, witches with the heritage of the Blacks behind them and life experiences that he had no frame of reference for, could offer up possibilities that Harry, nor any other man for that matter, just couldn't. A combination of female mentors and feminine lovers could give the Black sisters a strategic advantage.
Draco Malfoy, with Blaise Zabini at his side - in more ways than one - had obviously taken the same tack as Lucius and Snape. However, their angle was going to be peer-to-peer, rather than older Wizards to younger Witch. If those two starred in their own Jane Austin novel, the title would be… The title would be… Well, Harry couldn't think of a suitable parody. But when he did, he'd definitely share it with Sirius.
As it was, Sirius had been the one who'd told him about this little get-together. Sirius sat him down and told him about a lot of things, especially the 'why' as to why this meeting was so important.
Sirius' careful explanations about Veela traditions sent Harry to the Potter Grimoire. Three days and one long question-and-answer session with an Unspeakable later, Harry had more hope than questions.
Harry wasn't going to miss the chance for Magic to finally give something back to him.
Fleur chose Hermione as her Maiden of Honor. Which meant that after the vows between Fleur and her fiancé, the Maid of Honor Ritual would commence. Maiden of Honor, at a Veela wedding, meant that the Maiden would be Honored by receiving a blessing from the newly married couple. This blessing, born of the strength of the love shared by the bride and groom, revealed to the Maiden her True Match, the one who loved her as much as the groom loved his new bride. Once that happened, all those who were Contenders for that Maid's affections were magically and morally obligated to honor the Blessing that the Maid and her Match would receive.
Sirius had also told Harry not to be surprised to see his godfather toss his proverbial hat into the even more proverbial ring. As Sirius explained, his Black magic initially pushed him to be interested in Hermione but the witch had endeared herself to him on her own merits. The fact that both Hermione and Sirius were two of the most protective people he knew, Harry didn't think it would take much for genuine feelings to sprout between the witch Harry wanted for himself and the one wizard who would take care of Hermione in the way she truly deserved.
Harry suspected that Regulus appeared tonight for the same reasons as Sirius, albeit with a separate suit from his older brother. Last year, twelve minutes after Harry sat down at a coffee shop with Hermione in Muggle London early one morning was when a Muggle-rigged Regulus Black strolled up to them and invited himself to sit at their table. Harry found out later that the Slytherin Prince - prettier, smarter, and definitely more powerful and circumspect than Draco, Regulus snatched that title away from Malfoy Junior within twenty-four hours of Regulus' resurrection - found that café by bloody scrying! Harry knew of at least two different public events over the past eight months to which Regulus escorted Hermione: the Rembrandt Grand Exhibit in Budapest and, per McGonagall's instance, which Hermione termed 'blatant blackmail', Griselda Marchbank's one-hundred-eighth birthday celebration hosted at Hogwarts and sponsored by the Ministry. Harry could sense that Regulus had a sincere interest - not mislabeled gratitude nor debt-induced affections - and a true desire to pursue a witch who was closer to his own age than his, now even more so, much older brother.
How Victoria Frobisher and Fay Dunbar fit in wasn't too hard to suss-out either. The two women started dating in Fourth Year. The pair of lovely brunettes had teamed with Hermione on many an Arithmancy project during Fifth and Sixth year. Despite being caught up in his own dramas during those horrible years, not even he missed the way Hermione commented wistfully about the romance that'd developed between the two teen girls nor did Harry overlook the way Hermione complimented the two on their natural beauty and innate grasp of a truly challenging aspect of Magic. The friendship between the three witches had remained steady. In fact, when Hermione started this new project on behalf of St Mungo's, Victoria and Fay facilitated one of Hermione's early breakthroughs.
Oliver Wood leaned casually against a far wall. The man's shoulders propped him up-right and his arms crossed his chest. Harry silently commiserated with his former Quidditch captain. The fact that Oliver came to blows with Seamus back in January didn't surprise Harry. After all, there were very few wizards or witches who were as competitive as Oliver Wood. Which was why Harry supposed Oliver thought himself a strong enough Contender to be here tonight. Hermione herself was also insanely competitive. Harry thought that would be reason enough for any potential relationship between them to fail. However, as Hermione had told him herself, Oliver traveled a lot but he never failed to stay in regular contact and the professional Quidditch player always came back to London with some obscure tome or recently un-earthed scroll that always had something to do with her most current project.
Next to him, ales in-hands, Seamus Finnegan chatted easily with Justin Finch-Fletchley. Same year, different House - Harry didn't see any sign of the two men being lovers. Everyone in Gryffindor knew that Seamus had a thing for Hermione since Fifth year that still burned brightly - as proved when Seamus and Oliver tussled. Justin had the Muggle-born angle. Not to mention that the former Hufflepuff's father's sister had apparently gone to school with Hermione's mother. The two families reconnected during Christmas Break of Year One. Harry spent Yule sneaking his way into the library at Hogwarts looking for clues about Nicholas Flamel while one of Justin's Yule presents was back-door access to Hermione's good graces.
Another case of Magic 'taking away', he groused to himself.
"Hullo, Harry."
Harry craned his neck to meet Remus Lupin's gaze. This time, Harry wasn't able to stifle the feeling that Magic was about to fuck with him one more time.
"Evening, Remus."
If there was one person that Harry truly saw as competition, aside from Severus Snape, his godfather, and Charlie Weasley, it was Remus Lupin.
The werewolf had successfully grieved for his dead wife, was raising a son, who also happened to be Harry's godson, was magically gifted, unfaltering kind, brilliantly intelligent, and, given the fact that Tonks hadn't been shy about stating - more than once, much to Harry's and everyone else's chargrin - that her husband's cock was so big that she wouldn't've been surprised if little Teddy was conceived when Remus had shagged her up the arse, the werewolf needed a third leg sown into all of his pants and trousers. And, given the fact that Hermione repeatedly sought out the quiet scholar whenever she'd been in tears over a bad date, the werewolf definitely stood a chance tonight.
Remus' gaze flitted around the room. He fished a pack of Wizarding cigarillos from the inside pocket of his corduroy jacket. A vintage muggle Zippo lighter made its way from his trousers' pocket to his palm. Once lit, Remus offered it to Harry.
"No thanks. I quit four months ago."
That detail definitely surprised the Lycan. He, Remus, and Sirius had shared many a smoke over the past six years. But since Harry wanted to be taken seriously as a Contender, then that meant certain life-style changes. One of which involved giving up smoking.
Shrugging his shoulders in a 'more for me' context, Remus took a long drag and considerately blew the smoke toward the ceiling. Drawn by the scent of Remus' herbal blend, Sirius separated from Regulus and neatly plucked the cigarillo from his fellow Mauraders fingers.
Inhaling, savouring the smoke that filled his mouth, Sirius not-so-considerately exhaled in the same direction as Oliver's scowl. "What's got Wood's knickers in a twist?"
Across the room, at the receiving end of Oliver's fierce stare, stood Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint. Harry had heard gossip to the affect that those two former Slytherin Quidditch players were 'straight but not narrow', but from what Harry could see, that was just a rumour. If anything, Harry would bet Bragging Rights that the two were doing a 'if I can't have her, then I'll help you get her' kind of strategy. Whether the two wizards planned to sharing Hermione after the fact, only time - and Hermione's disposition on the matter - would tell.
"Aside from the fact that all of us are here for the same witch?" Harry knew his tone was a little too sharp and more than a tad bit scathing, but as so many different wizards and witches assembled, the confidence he'd walked in with was slowly being undermined.
"Right as always, Pup." Sirius took another pull and passed the fag back to Remus. The winsomeness on his godfather's face only re-enforced the conviction Harry held that if he was going to lose to anyone, it might as well be to a wizard who needed Hermione as much as he himself did.
"That's interesting." Remus subtly directed Harry's attention to a crowded table.
The three witches and two wizards sharing a pitcher of some sort of mead were definitely food-for-thought. Natalie MacDonald, Fleur Delacour, Cormac McLaggen, Viktor Krum and Luna Lovegood were each sipping and chatting.
Harry wasn't sure what all that was about.
Luna - she was an out-and-proud omnisexual and EOD: Equal Opportunity Dater. Harry had been there when she'd kissed her date, Sally Ann Perks, at the same time the Druid officiating Ron and Lavender's disaster of a wedding told the groom he could, 'kiss the bride'. Which Ron apparently interpreted as the go-ahead to lap at Lavender's open mouth like an extra-thirsty Snuffles went at his water dish. Which, made Harry re-evaluate his own kissing skills. Now that he'd seen what Hermione had put up with, even if it was just the short time between when she and Ron started dating and when Hermione caught Ron abuse his budding Auror status. Hermione cut all ties to Ron when he built a false case against Greengrass Consolidated. Greengrass faced charges on the grounds of the wizarding equivalent of industrial espionage - the DMLE statute identified as Magical Poaching - pertaining to Pee-Three. To hear Ron explain himself, if he created enough public controversy about Pee-Three, the investors would have no choice but to pull-out, Hermione would then have to give-up Pee-Three, which would free-up Hermione so that she could marry him like a proper witch would-and-should. And, if Ron happened to discredit a family of former Snakes in the process, then bully for him!
Again - Harry could see the circular logic in Ron's behavior. Though, that particular logic-loop definitely included a l-o-n-g lay-over in Crazy Land. But, because of his association with the Weasley family, Harry figured he owed it to George, as he was George's silent partner at WWW, to attend Ron's wedding.
As an EOD, Luna attended the Fifth Annual Day of Remembrance and her date for the event was Majorian's son, Neilan. When Luna made an off-handed - Good Godric, Harry PRAYED that Luna's aside was off-handed and not an exercise in semantics - comment about how she and Neilan never went anywhere without a bit-and-bridle. In Harry's mind, Harry spelled 'bridle' b-r-i-d-a-l and permanently associated any aspect of that particular conversation with wedding planning. Any other possible definition or intentions created images and possibilities that Harry knew he didn't deserve to carry or superimpose on the inter-species couple.
Cormac… Harry hadn't seen the arrogant arsehole for years. He'd read about him in Wizard's Whirl. The Quidditch referee had been featured in that magazine many times as McLaggen had cultivated quite the reputation for his single-mindedness while on the Pitch. Looking at the curly-haired wizard from across the room, Harry had to admit that perhaps a reason why Cormac appeared to have finally learned the difference between 'confidence' and 'cock-sure' might have something to do with realizing that those who possessed a genuine talent for something never needed to brag about it.
Natalie MacDonald… Harry didn't know anything about her. But if his former dorm-mate was here, then she obviously had a vested interest in Hermione Granger.
Fleur and Hermione bonded when Hermione apologized to the quarter-Veela in the days after the Battle of Hogwarts for not standing up for her when Ginny instigated the whole 'Anti-Phlegm' campaign. Since then, every couple of months, well before Bill filed for an annulment, Hermione found the time to meet up with Fleur - regardless of where in the world the two witches might be. And, since it was Fleur's Veela-ness that was behind the reason why everyone had assembled, it made sense that she'd be a part of all this. Hence the reason why Fleur had to be here tonight. Also, if Remus told the story right, Fleur's fiancé, Atanas Paisi, was the result of a disastrous date between Hermione and Atanas.
If there was a wild-card in the bunch, it was the fifth person seated at Fleur's table who was also Fleur's fiancé's best man: Viktor Krum
Harry knew Viktor was still important to Hermione. The friendship between Harry's hopefully-soon-to-be-more-than-his-best-friend and the retired Bulgarian Seeker hadn't floundered once during all these years. In fact, Viktor harboured Crookshanks during the year that he, Hermione, and Ron had been on-the-run. Krum masked Crookshanks' magical signature so that no one could use the half-Kneazle to track Hermione as it was well-known throughout Hogwarts that Crooks was Hermione's so-ugly-he's-handsome familiar.
To this day, Viktor arranged for regular deliveries of Kneazle treats to Hermione's flat. The reason why Harry knew this? When he'd tried to do that himself, the owner of Magical Menagerie informed him that another wizard had beat him to-the-punch and that wizard was Viktor Krum. Again, this was something that Harry could wrap is brain around: Crooks was one of those beings that, once you've earned his trust, respect, and affection, he permanently endeared himself to you via an extension of his Kneazle heritage. Harry had earned such a kinship with the bandy-legged bruiser of a cat when he'd finally stood up to Ron and the rest of the Weasleys when Ron's plan had been exposed. Sirius, too, had earned Crooks' magical kinship back in Third Year and the half-Kneazle had honoured that bond ever since. It wasn't hard to imagine a moment where Viktor would have proven himself to Hermione is such a way that Crookshanks would've reached out to the burly Bulgarian the same way that Crooks connected to himself and Sirius.
As it turned out, revealed during a the knock-down, epic, shouting match between Ron and Hermione that took place a month after Hermione's meeting with Death, all the DADA lessons that Hermione organized, which Harry subsequently taught, the source material was a combination of Lupin's lesson plans from when Remus was the DADA professor and Krum's personal academic summaries from his time at Durmstrang and subsequent specialized concentrations in Warding and Runic Applications. To think that Ron had gotten all jealous over Hermione's owls from 'Vicky', and yet Harry's former best male friend had eagerly lapped all the information 'Vicky' had sent to Hermione. It didn't take an Alchemist to figure out that Viktor was most likely the wizard who'd supplied Hermione with the source materials from which she learned all the complicated protection and security spells that Ron took for granted during what should've been their Seventh Year. Irony didn't even BEGIN to cover that!
The other thing that seventy-five percent of the wizards and witches in the room had in common?
They'd all played a part in protecting Hermione from Herbert Greengrass.
While that aspect had ended several years ago, the casual acquaintances between the protectors and the protectee - Hermione - evolved into genuine interest for the Muggleborn witch.
Harry admitted to Sirius on several occasions that he never really 'saw' Hermione as a romantic prospect until they'd spent that year on-the-run. In fact, the first time Harry found himself contemplating what a future without her would be like, was when they were doing 'laundry'. An icy-cold stream in the middle of nowhere, two weeks after Ron stormed off, fingers cramping from gripping water-logged denim trousers and flannel shirts, trying their best to rinse away the worst of the stink and grime with nothing but determination and no soap, when suddenly, a sopping wet sock smacked his chest. He looked up. Hermione, hands clutching her stomach as she was laughing so hard at his expression at being 'attacked' by a sock, in the sunlight, in the middle of nowhere, her own pile of laundry heaped on the bank of the stream, was breath-taking. Of course, he immediately countered with t-shirt lobbed at her head. Which landed on her shoulder. Which became a full-on water-and-wet-clothes fight. Which ended when the two of them, each reaching for the last piece of clothing that hadn't been hurled as of yet, wrestled each other into the freezing cold stream. That night, Harry stared long and hard at Ginny's name the Map. For once, he wasn't focusing on Ginny. He was focusing on the fact that if it weren't for him, Hermione would be where Ginny was: at school, doing what she loved, learning everything she could about witchcraft and wizardry. Hermione wouldn't be shivering with a rough woollen blanket wrapped around her shoulders, a wistful smile on her face, as she stirred a pot of that loathsome mushroom soup they both hated.
That happened more than seven years ago. Since then, there have been many more moments when Harry found himself realizing that Hermione was never a sister.
Separating himself from the concept of One Big Happy Weasley Family was liberating. Especially when Molly continually blamed Hermione for Ron's dismissal from Auror Control in the wake of Green-Gate. What Ron had done was completely of Ron's own doing, including being held accountable for framing Herbert Greengrass - Greengrass, Green-Gate, as termed by the newspapers - for Magical Poaching.
Harry wanted a family. But, he wanted a family of his own - not to be assimilated into someone else's family. He needed carry on the Potter name in deed and in spirit. He couldn't honour his family's legacy if he became the first raven-haired Weasley. Nor did he want to become the first green-eyed Black. Unlike Molly, Sirius understood this and didn't begrudge him his epiphany.
That was five years ago, when Molly laid into him for, 'turning his back on those who'd loved him the most'.
Love didn't work that way. Love was protective, yes. Love didn't come with a guilt-trip and possessiveness.
Since that moment, when Harry walked out of Molly's kitchen and with a final nod to Arthur, Harry Potter was his own man, his own wizard, his own person.
It was good to be Harry Potter. To offer Hermione his name, for her to accept him as more than her best friend, would be even better.
One last wizard entered the room. Atanas, Fleur's fiancé, nodded at some, shook hands with others, kissed a few cheeks, and clapped a few backs as he made his way to his intended.
Standing by her shoulder, he pulled out Fleur's chair and gallantly offered her his hand. She accepted with a smile that, had Harry been a few years younger and a lot less experienced with a Veela's Allure, would've reduced him to a state of vacuous admiration.
Beside him, Sirius muttered, "Here we go."
*** **** *****
With Atanas at her side, Fleur exuded just enough Allure to ensure that she had everyone's complete attention. Her fiancé cast the Translation Charm on everyone assembled. Fleur did not want there to be any chance of her being misunderstood because of her word-choices or her accent. Every witch and wizard now understood and spoke fluent French.
"Thank you all for coming tonight."
A light smattering of murmurs acknowledged her attempt at pleasantries.
"We are all here for the same reason. There is a witch we all know, who deserves the kind of ever-lasting love that should exist between those who truly belong to, and with, each other."
"What you do not know is this: Hermione Granger has been Cursed."
She held up a hand to stop the impending stampede of those intent on rushing to her side.
"This is a burden she accepted willingly and told only a select few. Myself being one of them."
Fleur looked at Severus Snape, who remained impassive despite the fact that he was the only other who knew of Hermione's predicament.
"Death is a blessing and a curse. In this case, Death's blessing was the return of four amazing wizards. Death's curse was the emotional toll of living a life devoid of romantic love. A price Hermione paid gladly and willingly and without regret or remorse."
Fleur's stern expression prevented anyone from casting aspirations at either Black brother, Master Snape, or Remus Lupin.
"There is a way to break this Curse, once and for all."
Any and all whispering abruptly stopped.
"As you all know, in three days I will stand before you, with this wizard," she gestured to Atanas, "and we will commit our lives, magics, and souls to one another."
Atanas reached for her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"Each of you brought your invitations?" She ran her gaze over one and all. "If you would please lift them above your heads?"
The entire company brandished over-sized cream-colored linen envelopes.
Fleur and Atanas drew their wands. Together, in perfect unison, a wash of shimmering blue-purple magic flowed from their wands. Like steam rising, it curled and tumbled across the ceiling, and, literally, rained down on everyone. Each envelope glowed brightly as it absorbed the magic. Across the room, each invitation shifted from a cream-coloured envelope into either a boutonniere or simple corsage of white lavender.
"In three days, after our ceremony, Atanas and I will bestow our Blessing on Hermione. Immediately after our Blessing, if you are our Hermione's True Match, your enchanted flower will take on the same color as Hermione's posy." Fleur looked at one and all, to make sure everyone understood every word and felt her sincere compassion. "Atanas and I thought very hard about this. If there is one thing that is…cruel…about a Blessing is that there can be only one - multiples are also considered 'one' - Match. Everyone else has to come to terms that they were not Matched. Those not Matched do not deserve to have her know that they were…for lack of a better term…passed over. Hence the reason why, in this case, only you will know if your boutonniere or corsage matches hers."
Fleur didn't think it would be so difficult to tell twenty-two people that they all stood an equal chance to be Chosen and to be Refused.
"However, there must be some indication, easily recognizable, as to who was Matched. Which is why the witch, wizard, or any combination thereof will make himself, herself, their selves known by being the one to escort Hermione onto the ballroom floor for the second dance. Once your hand - hands, if the case may be - touch hers, the Curse will be broken."
She found the strength to keep her voice steady and her posture straight when Atanas wrapped his hand around hers.
"Being Matched does not mean 'happily ever after'. It does not mean that you will automatically be granted eternal bliss. A Match means just that: you are her best Match. It will be up to you and her to foster and nurture your relationship, despite what life, and work, and other people bring into your life and into her life. You will not automatically be perfect people nor perfect towards each other. What you will have is something that so many overlook or take for granted: the security in knowing that out of all the witches and wizards who want a witch like Hermione Granger as a life-partner, you were -and are - her Match. What you, and her, do with that, is entirely on you."
With that, she offered one final benediction.
"So mote it be."
To Atanas, she murmured, "May the best man win."
*** **** *****
Three days later…
The ceremony brought tears to her eyes.
There was so much love between Atanas and Fleur, that the Bonding was bright, beautiful, and awe-inspiring. So much so that Hermione felt like she was intruding as she looked on as the couple kissed before two-hundred-fifty friends and family.
Caught up in the moment, as well as temporarily blinded by the flare of magic that emanated from the newlyweds, Hermione felt a second wash of magic flow from where she stood at the altar and out over the guests.
Fleur had told her that twenty-two witches and wizards assembled at the Leaky Cauldron three nights ago, all intent on making their feelings for her known. Fleur refused to name names or offer any clues as to who had been there that night. Hermione was still hesitant to believe that the Curse she took on willingly could be broken.
Her deal with Death was fairly iron-clad. She'd won four out of seven arguments. Death needed balance. The price paid for Remus, Severus, Sirius and Regulus was her ability to romantically bond with another.
What if Fleur's Blessing wasn't enough to break the Curse? What if her Match never asked her to dance, never declared him - or her - self? What if she had to spend the rest of her life finding fulfilment in her work and her friends without that 'je ne sais quoi' that makes work, life, friends, and love all that much 'more'? It wouldn't be a bad thing, to have a work-centric life. To live the next hundred and fifty years or so with friends wouldn't be a bad thing. It would be more than most people experienced during their entire lives! She would be fortunate to have the people in her life in her life for the rest of her life, to do what she does, to help people, to tackle the previously unexplored or overlooked or deemed 'undoable'.
If all that wasn't such a bad thing, why did she feel tears in her eyes and a horrid heaviness in her soul and a sense of mourning running the length and breadth of her magic?
A gentle touch to the underside of her chin lifted her eyelids.
A warm smile from two feet away chased away the heaviness in her soul.
Her magic hummed - HUMMED! - at the sight of the wizard in front of her.
A different kind of tears flowed from her heart and out her eyes.
A joyous smile spread to from her lips to her cheeks.
She reached forward. Her hand now cupped the side of his face. Her thumb traced his cheekbone.
"I am so glad it's you."
"May I have this dance?"
"Always, Harry."
FIN
For anyone interested, the Fire Festival in the Shetlands DOES happen every year, on the last Tuesday in January. I've never been, but I want to! Here's a link!
http://www.uphellyaa.org/about-up-helly-aa
The choice of flower for the Blessing, white heather lavender, was deliberate. I know that there are MANY interpretations of what flowers mean, especially since meanings can change with the era. Here is a link to the website I used. Heather lavender appears alphabetically. In this context, it represents protection and a secret love.
http://www.theflowerexpert.com/content/aboutflowers/flower-meanings