Over the next two days, the tension at the Burrow grew steadily.
With every passing hour, the atmosphere became more frantic. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were constantly pulled into the preparations, leaving them almost no time to speak privately.
Bill and Fleur had invited more than a hundred guests from across Europe and even Egypt. Organizing a wedding of that size in the middle of a war was anything but simple.
Harry quickly noticed that Fleur's mother and Gabrielle spoke very little English, despite their obvious efforts. During one particularly memorable attempt at clearing gnomes from the garden, Gabrielle had unleashed a string of very colorful French insults after one of them bit her ankle.
It was hard to tell who screamed the most in the house.
Mrs. Weasley or Fleur.
Charlie had been right. The Burrow could easily be renamed the house of constant shouting.
At times, even Ron and Ginny joined in. And Charlie himself wasn't spared, especially when a stack of enchanted wedding cards sent by Fred and George exploded right in his face.
But the true champion of loud complaints was Bill.
Those same cards had been charmed to loudly announce, over and over again, that Fleur was far too beautiful to marry a long-haired fool like him.
At last, the day arrived.
Everything was ready.
The food waited to be finished at the last moment, the tables stood neatly arranged under the large white tent, and Ginny and Gabrielle were upstairs putting on their dresses.
Fleur was being helped with her hair by a friend, while Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour, who had somehow become inseparable despite the language barrier, had taken charge of welcoming the guests.
"Let's just hope nothing goes wrong," Hermione said quietly, her voice filled with anxiety.
Ron let out a short laugh.
"Have you seen the security? Even the lanterns in the trees are enchanted to repel dark wizards."
"Looks like the first guests are arriving," Harry said, cutting off the conversation before it could turn into an argument.
He doubted Ron was in the mood to fight anyway.
Not after Hermione had appeared in her pale blue dress.
Ron kept glancing at her when he thought no one was looking. Hermione, for her part, pretended not to notice.
The first guests were guided to their seats under Hermione's careful instructions, with Mr. Weasley helping where needed.
Soon, the tent was nearly full.
Harry recognized a few familiar faces. Fred and George stopped briefly to greet them before rushing off to help Charlie, who was struggling to keep a group of stubborn gnomes away from the ceremony.
Percy had also arrived, accompanied by his girlfriend, Penelope. He stood awkwardly at a distance while she asked Ron, who suddenly seemed rather irritated, where they were supposed to sit.
Other guests Harry didn't know approached him as well.
"Hello, are you Harry Potter?"
"Yes," Harry replied, already tired of the question. It had been asked several times that day.
"Dirk Cresswell," the man introduced himself. "Horace told me you were one of his favorite students."
Harry nodded, recognizing the name.
"You work at the Goblin Liaison Office, don't you?" he asked.
Cresswell smiled.
"So he did mention me. And he speaks very highly of you. I hear you want to become an Auror."
"Yes," Harry answered.
"Stay in Horace's good graces, and you'll get there," the man said before moving on.
Harry watched him go, slightly stunned.
Had he just tried to impress a Ministry official?
Moments later, the music began.
Fleur appeared at the end of the aisle, walking slowly toward Bill.
She looked radiant in her white dress.
But Harry barely noticed.
His eyes were fixed on Ginny, walking just behind her with Gabrielle.
Half an hour later, Bill and Fleur shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and the tent erupted in applause.
Harry finally blinked, pulling his gaze away from Ginny.
He turned toward Ron and Hermione.
"That was beautiful," he said.
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"You actually watched the wedding? I thought Ginny's dress had completely distracted you."
Harry smiled faintly.
"That's exactly what I meant. It was beautiful."
Ron frowned.
"Wait… you weren't staring at my sister the whole time, were you?"
Harry shrugged.
"You're one to talk. Mister 'I can't stop looking at Hermione.'"
Ron turned red almost instantly.
Hermione stared down at her shoes, smiling.
Harry couldn't help thinking that if they refused to make a move, he might have to help things along himself.
As the evening went on, Ron and Hermione remained unusually polite with each other.
Ginny glanced at Harry, silently asking what was going on. He simply shrugged.
He was convinced that the dance later that night might finally push them to make a decision.
Unfortunately, Ron didn't handle butterbeer very well.
By the time the music started, he was already struggling to stand straight, much to Fred and George's amusement.
Harry wasn't in much better shape.
After ten o'clock, the dance floor seemed slightly blurred, and he couldn't bring himself to ask Ginny to dance.
Instead, he and Ron sat nearby, watching.
Ginny and Hermione danced with Fred and George at first, then with other boys Harry didn't recognize.
The twins soon moved on to other partners.
By the end of the night, both Harry and Ron were mumbling half-formed sentences, though Harry was fairly sure he heard Ron whisper Hermione's name more than once.
The girls, on the other hand, kept dancing until the very end.
Now they stood near the entrance, saying goodbye to the last guests with George's help.
Fred had disappeared earlier with Angelina.
On the dance floor, Bill and Fleur were still holding each other close.
The music had long since stopped.
But they hadn't moved.