｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍
｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
she wore the truth in her eyes
molded stones
of love and tragedy
freckled constellations
of pleasures and pain
from a life's true story
━━ Atticus
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
NINE O'CLOCK ON the following morning found Elara, Hermione, and Ginny seemingly stuck in an endless hole of getting ready for the wedding. Elara's disguise had given her a shiny mane of thick silvery-blonde hair and porcelain skin, giving off the impression she was related to the Delacour's.
Elara toyed with her dress, marvelling at how it seemed so much like flames licking her heels whenever she moved. Fleur had insisted Elara's hair be done into a rather complicated updo, and Elara was not about to argue with the bride.
"Damn, Lara," said Ginny as she strolled into the room, "You look amazing."
"I would actually feel like it," grumbled Elara, "If I didn't have to wear these damn heels."
"You won't fall, you know," said Hermione, busy trying to figure out how to use the mascara wand without getting some on her eyelids, "Madam Delacour enchanted them so the wearer would walk with elegance."
"Its not that I'm worried about."
"Then what?" asked Ginny, plopping herself down next to Hermione and applying the make up for her.
"Well," said Elara, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, "I. . . . saw something. Death Eaters attacked a party, and the guests were all wearing things somewhat fancy."
Ginny accidentally stabbed Hermione's eye with the mascara wand.
"Gin!"
"Sorry, sorry!" said Ginny, scrambling to find a wipe.
With one hand over her eye, Hermione turned to Elara.
"Have you told anyone?"
"No," Elara added hastily as Hermione gave her a sharp look, "but do I plan on telling Remus and a few other Order members. I don't want Mrs. Weasley or Fleur to stress."
Ginny nodded.
"Good idea," she said, back to applying mascara to a rather hesitant Hermione, "Mum would probably spontaneously combust if you told her."
"But. . . . back to the heels, why are you concerned with them?" asked Hermione.
"I can't fight Death Eaters in goddamn stilettos."
"You can," said Ginny, "you'd either look ridiculous or hella badass."
"Definitely the latter," said Hermione, turning to see if Ginny had done a good job.
Awhile later, Elara stumbled down the stairs as she struggled to get her zipper unstuck. Grumbling, she twisted and turned, fruitlessly trying to finish getting ready.
"Goddamn fucking fuck," she muttered, shaking her arm out as she felt it cramp.
"You okay there?"
Elara turned around to find Harry leaning against the doorway that lead into the unusually pristine kitchen, smiling amusedly at her. She rolled her eyes.
"Help me, would you?"
Harry crossed the floor as Elara turned her back to him. He fiddled with the fabric for moment, trying to get the zipper free, before he had finally zipped her up. Elara turned back around, about to thank him before a realization dawned on the pair.
This is the first time they'd been properly alone. The house was quiet, and they were in a rather concealed corner.
Wasting no time, they backed against a wall and wrapped each other up in a passionate kiss. Elara had no idea how much time had passed until a rather amused voice broke them apart.
"Mooornin'," said George, raising his coffee cup to them.
Brightly coloured figures were appearing, one by one, out of nowhere at the distant boundary of the yard. Within minutes a procession had formed, which began to snake its way up through the garden towards the marquee. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds fluttered on the witches' hats, while precious gems glittered from many of the wizards' cravats; a hum of excited chatter grew louder and louder, drowning the sound of the bees as the crowd approached the tent.
To prove Elara's disguise as Fleur's cousin, Mrs. Weasley had her Apparate to the top of the hill with the other guests and make her way down. Elara thought it was ridiculous, but Mrs. Weasley had already done so much for her that she made no complaint.
Annoyingly, Elara's dress had no pocket to hide her wand. It was instead stabbed through her updo, where she could easily access it. However, her main concern was why in the hell her heels weren't sinking through the ground.
She approached Harry (who was disguised as a Weasley), Ron, and Fred, ready to seat guests. Harry immediately took her arm and lead her to where she assumed he would be sitting for the ceremony.
Moments later, a brilliant yellow dress caught Elara's eye.
"Elara!"
She turned to see Luna Lovegood and a man Elara presumed to be her father smiling down at her.
"Er — My name's Charlotte."
'Oh, have you changed that too?' Luna asked brightly.
'How did you know –?'
'Oh, just your mannerisms,' she said.
Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorised with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you got over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant.
Her father, who was deep in conversation with an acquaintance, had missed the exchange between Luna and Elara.
Bidding the wizard farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, 'Daddy, look – one of the gnomes actually bit me!'
'How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!' said Mr Lovegood, seizing Luna's outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. 'Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today – perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish – do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!'
Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort.
'Ron can laugh,' said Luna serenely, as sitting beside Elara, her father following suit, 'but my father has done a lot of research on Gernumbli magic.'
'Really?' said Elara, who had long since decided not to challenge Luna or her father's peculiar views. 'Are you sure you don't want to put anything on that bite, though?'
'Oh, it's fine,' said Luna, sucking her finger in a dreamy fashion and looking Elara up and down. 'You look beautiful. I told Daddy most people would probably wear dress robes, but he believes you ought to wear sun colours to a wedding, for luck, you know.'
"Fleur was going after a fire-y look for mine."
"You are the embodiment of Heliopaths, after all."
Elara nodded, suppressing an amused smile.
"Lar — Er, I mean, Charlotte, over here!" called Ron.
Luna waved her off as she made her way to Harry and Ron, who were standing with an elderly witch. The witch's beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and feathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo.
'... and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelette. And who are you?' she barked at Elara.
'Oh yeah, Auntie Muriel, this is Fleur's cousin Charlotte.'
Auntie Muriel gave Elara a once-over, looking mildly impressed.
'You're a confident one, aren't you?"
Ron snorted.
"More like completely reckless," he said.
Elara nudged Ron's side roughly.
"Isn't Harry Potter and Elara Tonks here?" continued Auntie Muriel, ignoring the digression, "I was hoping to meet them. I thought they were friends of yours, Ronald, or have you merely been boasting?'
'No – they couldn't come –'
'Hmm. Made excuses, did they? That Tonks girl looks like she could be an empress of some sort. I've just been instructing the bride on how best to wear my tiara,' she shouted at Elara. 'Goblin-made, you know, and been in my family for centuries. She's a good-looking girl, but still – French. Well, well, find me a good seat, Ronald, I am a hundred and seven and I ought not to be on my feet too long.'
Ron gave Elara and Harry a meaningful look as he passed and did not reappear for some time: when next met at the entrance Harry had shown a dozen more people to their places, and Elara had taken to leaning against a pole that was keeping the tent up. The marquee was nearly full now, and for the first time there was no queue outside.
'Nightmare, Muriel is,' said Ron, mopping his forehead on his sleeve. 'She used to come for Christmas every year, then, thank God, she took offence because Fred and George set off a Dungbomb under her chair at dinner. Dad always says she'll have written them out of her will – like they care, they're going to end up richer than anyone in the family, rate they're going ... wow,' he added, blinking rather rapidly as Hermione came hurrying towards them. 'You look great!'
'Always the tone of surprise,' said Hermione, though she smiled. She was wearing a floaty, lilac-coloured dress with matching high heels; her hair was sleek and shiny. 'Your Great Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur the tiara. She said "Oh dear, is this the Muggleborn?" and then "bad posture and skinny ankles".'
'Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone,' said Ron.
'Talking about Muriel?' enquired George, re-emerging from the marquee with Fred. 'Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings.'
'Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?' asked Hermione.
'Well, yeah, he went a bit odd towards the end,' conceded George.
'But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party,' said Fred. 'He used to down an entire bottle of Firewhisky, then run on to the dance floor, hoist up his robes and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his –'
'Yes, he sounds a real charmer,' said Hermione, while Elara and Harry howled with laughter.
'Never married, for some reason,' said Ron.
'You amaze me,' said Hermione.
They were all laughing so much that none of them noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick, black eyebrows, until he held out his invitation to Ron and said, with his eyes on Hermione, 'You look vunderful.'
'Viktor!' she shrieked, and dropped her small beaded bag, which made a loud thump quite disproportionate to its size. As she scrambled, blushing, to pick it up, she said, 'I didn't know you were – goodness– it's lovely to see – how are you?'
Ron's ears had turned bright red again.
After glancing at Krum's invitation as if he did not believe a word of it, he said, much too loudly, 'How come you're here?'
'Fleur invited me,' said Krum, eyebrows raised.
Elara and Harry, who both had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then, feeling that it would be prudent to remove Krum from Ron's vicinity, both offered to show him his seat.
Krum's appearance was causing a stir, particularly amongst the Veela cousins: he was, after all, a famous Quidditch player. While people were still craning their necks to get a good look at him, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George came hurrying down the aisle.
'Time to sit down,' Fred told Elara, 'or we're going to get run over by the bride.'
Fred and George slid in seats next to Aurora, and Elara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken their seats next to the Lovegoods. A sense of jittery anticipation had filled the warm tent, the general murmuring broken by occasional spurts of excited laughter. Mr and Mrs Weasley strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives; Mrs Weasley was wearing a brand new set of amethyst-coloured robes with a matching hat.
A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large, white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the Veela cousins.
Elara slid out of her seat and stood at the front. She saw Fleur, looking absolutely radiant, give her an enthusiastic nod. Elara took a deep breath, pretended to wave her wand, and the hand behind her back shot light up into the ceiling of the tent.
The crowd gasped as they took in the little balls of fiery light floating in the air, making soft tinkling noises equivalent to wind chimes whenever a breeze blew the tent. Elara made her way back to her seat and sat between Luna and Harry.
"You're amazing, you know that, right?" whispered Harry, and Elara let a wide smile spred across her face as she leaned into him.
Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled.
'Ooooh!' said Hermione, swivelling round in her seat to look at the entrance.
A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everybody it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' said a slightly sing-song voice, and with a slight shock Elara saw the samesmall, tufty-haired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur.
'We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls ...'
'Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely,' said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. 'But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low-cut.'
Ginny glanced round, grinning, winked at Elara, then quickly faced the front again. Elara had to stifle a loud laugh. Harry's hand laced with Elara's as they watched the ceremony in front of them. For the first time since Dumbledore's death, Elara felt truly content.
'Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle ...?'
In the front row, Mrs Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpet-like sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs.
'... then I declare you bonded for life.'
The tufty-haired wizard raised his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiralling around their now entwined figures. As Fred 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!' called the tufty-haired wizard. 'If you would please stand up!'
They all did so, Auntie Muriel grumbling audibly; he waved his wand. The seats on which they had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that 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 towards a podium.
'Smooth,' said Ron approvingly, 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.
'We should go and congratulate them!' said Hermione, standing on tiptoe to see the place where Bill and Fleur had vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers.
'We'll have time later,' shrugged Ron, snatching four Butterbeers from a passing tray and handing one to Elara and one to Harry. 'Hermione, cop hold, let's grab a table ... not there! Nowhere near Muriel –'
Ron led the way across the empty dance floor, glancing left and right as he went: Elara felt sure that he was keeping an eye out for Krum. By the time they had reached the other side of the marquee, most of the tables were occupied: the emptiest was the one where Luna sat alone.
'All right if we join you?' asked Ron.
'Oh yes,' she said happily. 'Daddy's just gone to give Bill and Fleur our present.'
'What is it, a lifetime's supply of Gurdyroots?' asked Ron.
Elara kicked off her shoes, sighing at the feeling as the band had begun to play. Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor first, to great applause; after awhile, Mr Weasley led Madame Delacour on to the floor, followed by Mrs Weasley and Fleur's father.
'I like this song,' said Luna, swaying in time to the waltz-like tune, and a few seconds later she stood up and glided on to the dance floor, where she revolved on the spot, quite alone, eyes closed and waving her arms.
'She's great, isn't she?' said Ron admiringly. 'Always good value.'
But the smile vanished from his face at once: Viktor Krum had dropped into Luna's vacant seat. Hermione looked pleasurably flustered, but this time Krum had not come to compliment her.
With a scowl on his face he said, 'Who is that man in the yellow?'
'That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours,' said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. 'Come and dance,' he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up: they vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor.
'Ah, they are together now?' asked Krum, momentarily distracted.
'Yeah, sort of,' said Harry.
'Who are you?' Krum asked.
'Charlotte Delacour.'
"Barny Weasley."
They shook hands.
'You know this man Lovegood vell?'
'No, I only met him today. Why?' asked Elara.
Krum glowered over the top of his drink, watching Xenophilius, who was chatting to several warlockson the other side of the dance floor.
'Because,' said Krum, 'if he vos not a guest of Fleur's, I vould duel him, here and now, for vearing that filthy sign upon his chest.'
'Sign?' said Elara, looking over at Xenophilius too. The strange, triangular eye was gleaming on his chest. 'Why? What's wrong with it?'
'Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign.'
'Grindelwald ... the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?' asked Harry.
'Exactly.' Krum's jaw muscles worked as if he were chewing, then he said, 'Grindelvald killed many people, my grandfather, for instance. Of course, he vos never poverful in this country, they said he feared Dumbledore – and rightly, seeing how he vos finished. But this –'
He pointed a finger at Xenophilius.
'This is his symbol, I recognised it at vunce: Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it on to their books and clothes, thinking to shock, make themselves impressive – until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better.'
Krum cracked his knuckles menacingly and glowered at Xenophilius. Elara felt perplexed. It seemed incredibly unlikely that Luna's father was a supporter of the Dark Arts, and nobody else in the tent seemed to have recognised the triangular, rune-like shape.
'Are you quite sure it's Grindelwald's –?'
'I am not mistaken,' said Krum coldly. 'I valked past that sign for several years, I know it vell.'
'Well, there's a chance,' said Elara, 'that Xenophilius doesn't actually know what the symbol means. The Lovegoods are quite ... unusual. He could easily have picked it up somewhere and think it's a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.'
'The cross-section of a vot?'
'Well, I don't know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them...'
Elara felt she was doing a bad job explaining Luna and her father.
'That's her,' she said, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges.
'Vy is she doing that?' asked Krum.
'Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,' said Harry, who recognised the symptoms.
Krum did not seem to know whether or not Harry was making fun of him. He drew his wand from inside his robes and tapped it menacingly on his thigh; sparks flew out of the end.
'Gregorovitch!' said Harry loudly, and Krum started.
'Vot about him?' asked Krum suspiciously.
'He's a wandmaker!'
'I know that,' said Krum.
'He made your wand! That's why I thought – Quidditch ...'
Krum was looking more and more suspicious.
'How do you know Gregorovitch made my vand?'
'I ... I read it somewhere, I think,' said Harry. 'In a – a fan magazine,' he improvised wildly and Krum looked mollified.
Elara had to stifle a laugh.
'I had not realised I ever discussed my vand vith fans,' he said.
'So ... er ... where is Gregorovitch these days?'
Krum looked puzzled.
'He retired several years ago. I vos one of the last to purchase a Gregorovitch vand. They are the best– although I know, of course, that you Britons set much store by Ollivander.'
Elara did not answer. She was watching the dancers, wishing to join.
'You are very nice-looking,' Krum said, recalling Elara to her surroundings. Krum was staring intensely at Elara, who smiled sheepishly.
"Ah, well — "
"She's seeing someone," said Harry, irritated, "Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn't want to cross him.'
Krum grunted.
'Vot,' he said, draining his goblet and getting to his feet again, 'is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?'
And he strode off, leaving Elara and Harry to push their way through the dance floor. They both had collectively decided to leave Ron and Hermione by themselves, in hopes they might finally confess.
A song Elara recognized to be her dad's absolute favorite struck up. A famous Muggle song called Footloose began playing. She and Harry swung each other around as the song played, eventually being interrupted by Fred and George, who had apparently challenged each other to a dance off.
They both looked absolutely ridiculous, as reflected in Aurora's need to clutch onto Ginny as they both howled with laughter.
In Elara's opinion, neither won, but a slow song began to play and George grabbed a crying with laughter Aurora.
A hand tapped Elara's shoulder, and she turned to see Harry standing behind her, smiling sheepishly. Elara slid her arms around his neck, and they set off, swaying slowly to the music.
"You've improved since fourth year," said Elara quietly, looking up at Harry.
Harry's disguise had him a few inches taller, towering over Elara, as she had chosen to keep herself the same height. Harry groaned.
"I was a disaster."
Elara laughed.
"You're not wrong."
The pair laughed, keeping in time with the music. The drifted past Nymphie and Remus, who smiled at them.
"I think this is our proper first slow dance," said Harry, pulling Elara closer.
"And I think we've already made it abundantly clear who we really are," said Elara, resting her head against his chest.
They stayed like that for awhile, drinking in the overwhelming feeling of safety and home. Elara sighed contently, closing her eyes and letting everything else fade away until it was just the two of them.
For a fleeting moment, there was no war. There was no fear. There was no inevitable threat of an ultimate sacrifice. It was only them, two dumb kids who had crossed paths and by sheer dumb luck, happened to fall together into prophecies.
Right then, it all made sense. The Stars seemed to shine brighter as a small tear leaked out of Elara's eye.
She was a Star child. Even they chose destruction over life, scattering their atoms amongst the sky as they danced across galaxies. She would be finally free of the ever-burning rage and grief inside her, allowed to simply be.
Graceful and gleaming, a lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze, absurdly, in mid-dance. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
'The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.'
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
AUTHORS NOTE
— i had a video of me falling
during practice today but my shirt
had my school on it so.... haha
yall are being deprived
— i got so done with adding indents
written: august 28, 2020
published: august 28, 2020