The Tenth Weasley - CH - 112

Laughter filled the expansive gardens, blending the fresh scent of cut grass with the delicate fragrance of roses along the path. Guests arrived, carrying brightly wrapped gifts of all shapes—some adorned with shimmering enchanted paper, others simply tied with twine yet teeming with the promise of something special inside.

“You didn’t need to bring anything,” Harry said, his voice betraying the genuine warmth of his appreciation.

“That’s not how it goes, Potter,” one guest replied with a grin, handing him a small chest etched with runes. “We’re here for a wedding, and we intend to pamper the groom’s family.”

Excited to share the place that had meant so much to him, Harry guided them through the manor grounds. He first showed off the enormous basilisk skeleton, its massive ivory fangs glinting in the sunlight, prompting awe among several guests.
“Blimey,” Viktor Krum said as he touched one of the ribs. “I’ve only seen pictures, but… this?” He shook his head in admiration.

Next, Harry led them to the old Burrow, the charmingly crooked home of the Weasley family for generations. Its strange angles somehow conveyed a sense of sturdiness and warmth.

Hermione stood waiting on the back steps. Having met many of them via communication mirrors, she was eager to greet them in person.
“It’s wonderful to see you all!” she said warmly, hugging each one.

Before long, the well-known guests began to attract attention. Sonja, notably, became a focal point as her reputation as a dueling champion drew admiring fans who handed her programs, scraps of parchment, and enchanted photos for her autograph. Viktor, the Quidditch legend, garnered even more interest; as soon as guests recognized him, excited whispers spread. Even those uninterested in Quidditch found themselves lingering nearby, eager to catch a glimpse of his deep, accented voice.

Then Luna arrived, effortlessly donning a sunflower-yellow dress and radish earrings. She approached Sonja, holding a leather notebook.
“You’ve never given The Quibbler an exclusive, have you?” Luna inquired, speaking as if they had known each other forever.
Sonja blinked, looking to Harry for a cue, who simply smiled with amusement.
“Okay,” Sonja eventually replied, her lips curling slightly. “But only if I can discuss the importance of proper wand balance.”

In the meantime, Fred and George spotted Viktor, their eyes gleaming with mischief.
“We’ve been waiting for this moment,” Fred declared.
“Actually, it’s been months,” George chimed in, tossing a Quaffle between his hands. “Three on three. No Snitch. No Seekers. Just skill.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow but replied with a nod. “You vill lose,” he said confidently, already mounting his broom.

This challenge quickly attracted the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, eager to play before the evening ceremony. Within moments, they soared into the sky, Bludgers darting around as brooms made sharp turns in the bright afternoon sun. Guests began to gather at the far field, momentarily forgetting about the wedding preparations.

Harry, however, opted to stay off the field. He and Hermione found a quiet spot beneath an old oak tree, where the noise of the crowd became a pleasant background murmur.
“Aren’t you playing?” Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. “Let them enjoy it. Besides, it’s Bill’s wedding day; I’m just here to ensure everything goes smoothly before the vows.”

From their serene vantage point, they witnessed Fred nearly crash into George during a daring move, Viktor intercepting a Quaffle mid-loop, and—surprisingly—Sonja joining the game halfway through, her precision with the Quaffle as sharp as her wand technique.

For a time, the match captivated everyone, creating a festive atmosphere that felt less like the hectic hours leading up to a wedding and more like a celebration filled with friends, laughter, and the vibrant energy that Bill Weasley would have relished before his big day.


The sprawling grounds of Weasley Manor were alive with color, light, and the hum of excited voices. Guests continued to arrive in a steady stream, each one escorted through the ivy-lined archway and down toward the massive garden that had been transformed for the occasion. The central aisle was lined with enchanted lanterns that floated just above the grass, their gentle glow shifting between gold, soft blue, and rose pink. Overhead, delicate strings of fairy lights wound through the branches of tall oaks, casting a warm, magical canopy over the gathering.

Near the front, white chairs with gold trim had been arranged in neat rows, the scent of fresh flowers drifting in the evening breeze. Beyond them, an elegant altar of carved oak stood waiting, draped with wildflowers from the surrounding countryside.

Ginny leaned over to Hermione and whispered, “Mum’s been fussing over those flowers since dawn. If one petal dared to wilt, I think she would’ve hexed the entire arrangement back into bloom.”

Hermione smiled, glancing toward Molly, who was indeed making last-minute adjustments near the front. “Well, she’s earned the right to fuss. It’s her first son getting married.”

The bride and groom were ready—Bill in deep maroon robes with intricate golden embroidery along the cuffs, and Nymphadora in a gown that shimmered from silver to lilac depending on the light, her hair a bright shade of pink that made several young guests gasp in delight.

It was Albus Dumbledore who stepped forward to officiate the ceremony, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the lamplight. Harry sat with his family, his jaw tightening slightly. James noticed and gave him a nudge.

“Try to look less like you’ve swallowed a lemon,” James murmured.

Harry muttered back, “You know I’m not a fan of him being up there.”

Lily, seated on Harry’s other side, squeezed his arm. “It’s their choice, Harry. Tonight’s about Bill and Tonks, not Dumbledore.”

When the music began, the garden fell into a hush. Bill’s eyes lit up as Nymphadora walked down the aisle, and she grinned back at him with all the warmth in the world.

Their vows drew laughter and smiles—Bill teased about her clumsiness, and Tonks promised with mock solemnity, “I’ll never hex your hair shorter than you like… unless you deserve it.”

Dumbledore’s voice carried over the crowd. “By the bonds of magic and the ties of the heart, I pronounce you husband and wife.” A ribbon of golden light wound around their joined hands before fading into sparkles, and the applause was thunderous.


The reception tables were heavy with roasted meats, spiced potatoes, warm bread, and desserts that hovered temptingly above the table until claimed.

Arthur, passing by the Grangers’ table, grinned. “You’re fitting right in! How’s the food?”

Dan Granger laughed. “I’ve no idea how it keeps appearing on my plate, but I’m not complaining.”

Emma added, “And these goblets… it refills the moment you think about it! This could be dangerous.”

Molly, bustling past, caught that last bit. “Oh, you just wait until dessert, dear. You’ll want a refill then.”


As the sun dipped behind the hills, fairy lights brightened overhead and the garden became a dance floor. A band of enchanted instruments played lively tunes without visible players, the beat thrumming in everyone’s bones.

Bill and Tonks shared their first dance under a shower of golden sparks.

Fred sidled up to George, smirking. “Time for the lantern trick?”

George grinned wickedly. “You read my mind.” Moments later, a cluster of enchanted lanterns began following Percy, glowing brighter every time he flushed. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Percy groaned, trying to shoo them away, which only made the crowd laugh harder.

Charlie arrived smelling faintly of smoke, hugging Tonks so hard she staggered. “Careful, Charlie!” she laughed. “You’ll crush the dress.”

“Worth it,” he said, before clapping Bill on the back. “You look good, brother. Happier than I’ve ever seen you.”


Near the broom shed, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were egging Viktor Krum into a broom race.

“Come on, Viktor! Show us what a World Cup Seeker can do,” George challenged.

Viktor smirked. “Da, but only if you keep up.”

Half the younger guests abandoned the dance floor to watch, cheering until Molly’s voice rang over the chaos. “If one of you crashes into the cake table, I’ll have your brooms for kindling!”


Later, Harry slipped away and found Hermione barefoot at the edge of the orchard, her hair loose and her shoes dangling from her fingers.

“Escaping?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “If one more person asks when we’re next, I might hex them.”

Harry chuckled. “Guess that’s the wedding curse. Makes everyone think about their own.”

They stood quietly, the sounds of laughter and music floating toward them.

“Bill and Tonks look so happy,” Hermione murmured.

“They do,” Harry said softly, then reached for her hand. “Come on. If we’re gone too long, the twins will send a search party.”

Together, they walked back into the glow of lanterns and laughter, ready to be pulled into the last hours of celebration.


The following morning, the manor was subdued, yet the lingering aroma of last night’s feast hung in the air. Breakfast was leisurely, with everyone savoring toast, eggs, and copious cups of tea. Laughter filled the table as they reminisced about the previous evening's events—the fireworks blunders, the chaos of the broom race, and Fred’s unsuccessful attempt to teach Viktor Krum how to waltz.

As the plates were cleared and the last of the tea was poured, those who were staying behind began to organize their belongings. Trunks were piled by the front door, cloaks were put on, and last-minute gifts were exchanged. Outside, the morning sun illuminated the dewy grass, and the ivy on the garden walls sparkled as if it had captured last night’s fairy lights.

Before departing, everyone gathered in the sitting room for one last time. A cozy fire crackled in the hearth, and armchairs were rearranged into a loose circle. Those who had spent the night began to share stories—part adventures, part exaggerations—about the past year.

Sirius leaned in with a smile. “I still think my favorite story was how Charlie try to pass off that Niffler as an ‘emergency magical detector’ in Diagon Alley.”

Charlie Potter rolled his eyes in response. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, you’re the one who set it free to begin with.”

Remus chuckled softly. “And I was the one who had to smooth things over with the shopkeeper afterward. Honestly, the three of you are a nightmare together.”

The Potters were the first to depart, with James giving Bill a firm hug and Lily kissing Tonks on the cheek. Sirius and Remus followed, both offering warm congratulations before stepping into the swirling green of the Floo.

Next to leave were the Grangers, with Emma hugging Molly warmly. “Thank you for making us feel so at home. It’s… like entering another world.”

“You’re part of the family now,” Molly asserted, patting her hand. “Don’t forget it.”

Harry’s friends, who had come from various places, departed next, followed by the Quidditch team, who left in a loud rush of broomsticks and farewells.

Gradually, the house grew quieter, leaving only family behind. The garden, once vibrant with music and magic, felt peaceful now, with the remnants of celebration stored away for another time.

When Bill and Nymphadora finally stepped forward with their gifts, ready to head to their Victorian mansion, Molly’s composure faltered.

“Oh, my boy,” she whispered, embracing Bill tightly. “It feels wrong for you to leave so soon after having you back home.”

“Mum,” Bill replied gently, returning her hug. “We’re not going far. We’ll visit—frequently.”

Tonks smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. “You might not want us visiting too often, Molly. I’m clumsy enough to break something every time I’m here.”

Molly sniffed, half-laughing through her tears. “Nonsense. This house has endured seven children—you won’t break it.”

Arthur placed a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Come on, love. Let them start their life together.”

Molly nodded, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. “I know… I know.” She managed a shaky smile as they stepped into the Floo.

With a whoosh of green flames, they disappeared, leaving the room feeling just a little emptier.