The Girl Who Saw Tomorrow III » Harry Potter

3.7 | The Magician

A shower of silver stars fell upon Bill and Fleur, spiralling around their now-entwined figures.

Fred grinned at Margaret, who raised her brows at him in amusement as he and George led a round of applause. The golden balloons overhead burst: Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" calls the tufty-haired wizard. "If you would please stand up!"

They all did so, and he waved his wand again.

The seats on which they had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished. They stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside.

Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the centre of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small, white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden-jacketed band trooped toward a podium.

"Smooth," compliments Ron as the waiters popped up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhisky, others tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches. "Hermione, cop hold, let's grab a table. Not there! Nowhere near Muriel-"

Margaret picked up two tubes of firewhiskey, handing one to Fred.

"I should go find the Spinnets," she tells him. "But come find me later, okay?"

"Wait a moment," he said, gently taking hold of her arm and guiding her away from the crowded dancefloor. They found a quieter corner, and he inquired, "What's happening with them? I didn't expect you to know the Spinnets."

Margaret leaned against him, placing a hand on his shoulder, creating the illusion of a loving couple. Only he could hear her as she whispered in his ear. Fred took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He smirked when she playfully glared at him.

"Mr Spinnet is a Muggle-born," she explained softly. "His wife is a half-blood but not a UK citizen. With no remaining family, it's challenging to prove her ancestry. It puts them all at risk, including Alicia."

"So it's about the Muggle-born registration," he whispered, his breath tickling her neck. Margaret suppressed a shiver as goosebumps appeared on her skin. "Who is your partner that Mr Spinnet mentioned?"

"My brother."

"I see... Oh, uh oh," Fred says suddenly. "Mother incoming."

From the corner of her eye, Margaret noticed Mrs Weasley swiftly approaching with some unruly redheaded cousins in tow, her eyes on Fred. Margaret instinctively pulled him toward the dancefloor where Bill and Fleur had just finished their first dance, and more guests were joining in on the fun. Seeing them happily mingling, Mrs Weasley seemed to reconsider her approach. She abruptly changed direction, leading the redheads elsewhere.

"Quick thinking," compliments Fred, clinking his glass of firewhiskey with hers.

Margaret winked at him over the rim, wandlessly levitating their empty glasses away before placing her hands on his shoulders.

As the enchanting melody filled the air, Margaret and Fred swayed together, caught up in the magic of the waltz. Fred's eyes sparkled mischievously, and he leaned in close, his voice filled with playful charm.

"Miss Xenakis, I've been waiting for the perfect moment to sweep you off your feet like this," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Margaret laughed, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of amusement and affection. "Well, Mr Weasley, I must say you're doing quite an impressive job."