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Harry, who had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then feeling that it wouldbe prudent to remove Krum from Ron’s vicinity, offered to show him his seat. “Your friend is not pleased to see me,” said Krum, as they entered the now packed marquee. “Or is he a relative?” he added with a glance at Harry’s red curly hair. “Cousin.” Harry muttered, but Krum was not really listening. His 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 Harry, “or we’re going to get run over by the bride.” Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats in the second row behind Fred and George. Hermione looked rather pink and Ron’s ears were still scarlet. After a few moments he muttered to Harry, “Did you see he’s grown a stupid little beard?” Harry gave a noncommittal grunt. 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 colored robes with a matching hat. A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both Wearing dress robes, with larger white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and There was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Then the crowd fell silent as Music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons. “Ooooh!” said Hermione, swiveling around 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 for him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrit Greyback. “Ladies and gentlemen,” said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Harry saw the same small, tufty-hired 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 set 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 around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again. Harry’s mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to the afternoons Spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; They had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person’s life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead…. “Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle…?” Date: 2015-12-11; view: 799
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