The days wore on at the Burrow, mine and Harry's birthdays passing (for which I got brilliant presents) and the preparation for Bill's wedding well underway. Fred and I only managed to sneak away to fuck once, during which we got interrupted by Mrs Weasley halfway through, who had entered the room with no warning, backing in with a huge pile of laundry. It was a small mercy that her back was  to us; I had lightning-fast reflexes and rolled off Fred, sliding off the bed and behind it. 

"I thought I heard voices in here." Mrs Weasley said absentmindedly as she started sorting the laundry into piles on George's bed. "Who were you talking to?" 

"Er - no one." Fred said awkwardly, and I watched him from the other side of the bed as he tugged the blankets up further over him. 

"And why are you still in bed? It's two in the afternoon." 

"Er..." 

"Where's Daisy?" 

"Um -" 

I ducked a little as Mrs Weasley turned to Fred, her expression soft and caring. "You two make such a great couple. Your father and I always knew you two were meant to be together, ever since she first stayed over here, all those years ago." 

"Mum..." Fred said, his face slowly turning pink. 

"We could just FEEL the chemistry between you." Mrs Weasley said fondly. "And of course, we knew you were head over heels for her, it was very obvious to us." 

"Mum!" Fred groaned, pulling the covers over his head. 

"Such a wonderful pair! Your personalities go together so well." Mrs Weasley smiled down at the huddled mass under the blanket. "Soon it'll be YOUR wedding. Daisy'll truly be part of the family then!" 

It was my turn to blush. 

"Well, dear, if you ever need advice... I mean, Arthur never gave you and George the talk, if -" 

"Oh my GODRIC, Mum, I've already fucked Daisy!" Fred's explosion came from underneath the covers, then a horrified silence followed. I risked a peek at Mrs Weasley. She was staring at the blanket, stunned. 

"Well... well - that's no way to refer to a lady, Fred! You make love to a lady." Mrs Weasley took in a deep breath, gathering herself. "I just hope you've been practising safe sex, young man. I don't want to hear you've gotten her pregnant -" 

"Too late." Fred's mortified, muffled voice sounded. 

"WHAT?" Mrs Weasley bowed down over the covers, grabbing them and whipping them off Fred. Fred yelped, covering his dick with his hands, but Mrs Weasley didn't seem bothered, continuing, "You got that poor young girl pregnant? You careless, indecent -" 

"She got rid of it!" 

"And I suppose that was painful for her, the poor -" 

"Yes, it was, and I sat with her through the whole thing!" 

Fred and Mrs Weasley were panting, glaring at each other. Naked and a bit cold, I reached to my phone silently and sent a text to George: 

'plz cause a ruckus to get your scary mother out of your room so your bro and i can fuck in peace lmao' 

And a second later, a loud CRASH sounded from downstairs. Mrs Weasley whirled around and stormed for the door, pausing in the doorway. 

"Don't think we won't continue this conversation later." Fred's mother warned him, before shutting the door behind her. 

"Ughhhhhhh." Fred groaned, burying his face in his covers. "Seriously... get back up here, Daze." 

I grinned, leaping back up onto the bed and onto Fred's dick. 

And after mine and Harry's birthday, Scrimgeour came to give us the contents of Dumbledore's will. He had given the twins and Ron his Deluminator, Terry and Hermione his copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard,' and Harry and I the golden Snitch that I had caught in my first Quidditch match. 

All very odd, but oh well, what could we do. 

And the night before the wedding, the twins, Terry, and I were packing for our mission. We were discussing the fake Horcrux, and whether or not R.A.B had managed to destroy it. 

"Yeah, but we're still going to have to try to trace the real locket, aren't we?" Terry was saying. "Y'know, to like, find out whether or not it's destroyed or something."

"And once we get hold of it, how do you destroy a Horcrux?" George asked.

"Well," Terry said, "I've been researching that."

"How?" I asked. "I didn't think there were any books on Horcruxes in the library? Hopper, you into the Dark Arts, my dude?" 

"Pfft, ew." Terry said. "There weren't any in the library, Dumbledore removed them all, but he didn't destroy them." 

"Hmm. So you're just a thief." I said. 

"It wasn't stealing!" Terry said. "They were still library books, even if Dumbledore had taken them off the shelves. Anyway, if he really didn't want anyone to get at them, I'm sure he would have made it much harder to. I'm not pressed about it, it was easy. I just did a cheeky Summoning Charm. You know - Accio. And they zoomed out of Dumbledore's study window right into the Ravenclaw boys' dorm."

"Lmao." I said. 

Terry said casually, "I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?"

"Imagine." I said. "Where are these books anyway?"

Terry rummaged for a moment and then extracted from the pile of books in front of him a large volume, bound in faded black leather. He looked a little nauseated and held it as gingerly as if it were something recently dead.

"This is the one that gives explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux. Secrets of the Darkest Art - it's a disgusting book, really awful, full of evil magic. I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library... if he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Riddle got all the instruction he needed from here."

"Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux, then, if he'd already read that?" George asked.

"He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven." I said. "Dumbledore was sure Riddle already knew how to make a Horcrux by the time he asked Slughorn about them. I think you're right, Hopper, that could easily have been where he got the information."

"And the more I've read about them," Terry said, "the more horrible they seem, and the less I can believe that the asshole actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!"

I remembered what Dumbledore had said about Riddle moving beyond 'usual evil.' 

"I wonder if there's any way of putting yourself back together?" Fred asked.

"There is," Terry said with a hollow smile, "but it would be excruciatingly painful."

"Why? How d'you do it?" I asked.

"Remorse." Terry said. "You've got to really FEEL what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you, haha. I can't see Riddle attempting it somehow, can you?"

"No." Fred said, before I could answer. "So does it say how to destroy Horcruxes in that book?"

"Yeah." Terry said, now turning the fragile pages as if examining rotting entrails. "Because it warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, what Softpaw did to Riddle's diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux."

"What, stabbing it with a Basilisk fang?" I asked.

"Oh, well, lucky we've got such a large supply of Basilisk fangs, then." Fred said. "I was wondering what we were going to do with them."

"It doesn't have to be a Basilisk fang." Terry said patiently. "It has to be something so destructive that the piece of shit can't repair itself. Basilisk venom only has one antidote, and it's incredibly rare -" 

"- Phoenix tears." I said, nodding.

"Exactly. Cookie for Softpaw." Terry said. "Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as Basilisk venom, and they're all dangerous to carry around with you. That's a problem we're going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won't do the trick. You've got to put it beyond magical repair."

And the four of us fell asleep while staring up at the ceiling, all cuddling on Fred's bed, our minds whirling as we tried to think of just what could destroy a Horcrux. 

~~~ 

Three o'clock on the following afternoon found Terry and I giggling outside the great white marquee in the orchard, as Fred, George, Ron, and Harry stood at the entrance awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests. 

All four of them were clutching seating plans, so that they could help show people to the right seats. A host of white-robed waiters had arrived an hour earlier, along with a golden jacketed band, and all of these wizards were currently sitting a short distance away under a tree. I could see a blue haze of pipe smoke issuing from the spot. Behind the boys, the entrance to the marquee revealed rows and rows of fragile golden chairs set on either side of a long purple carpet. The supporting poles were entwined with white and gold flowers. Fred and George had fastened an enormous bunch of golden balloons over the exact point where Bill and Fleur would shortly become husband and wife. Outside, butterflies and bees were hovering lazily over the grass and hedgerow. 

So far, only the girls and Terry had seen me. The boys had their backs to us, so hadn't seen Terry and I come out of the house. I leaned against Terry, giggling, as he shook his head at the stupid joke I'd just told, grinning. 

I was in a short pastel pink dress, the low-cut top of it bedazzled with glittering silver flowers. The skirt was floaty and skater-style, and showed off my long legs. My now-signature pink kitten heels with little silver bows were on my feet, and my black curls were scooped up into a messy bun, ringlets hanging down and framing my face, little sparkling silver flowers sprinkled throughout the bun. I looked hot and I knew it, and I couldn't wait to show Fred. 

And he looked hot as hell from the distance that Terry and I were slowly closing; he was in a black and white suit, his top three buttons undone, his shirt untucked, and one of his hands casually in his pocket. His hair was gelled up and carefully tousled, as if to give off the impression that it was windswept; but I knew it wasn't. Because he always did that when he wanted to look sexy. And fuck does he come through. 

"I can't wait for Draco to show up." Terry was saying as I gazed at Fred's back, feeling like my insides were turning to mush. "He's gonna look so hot..." 

"Yeah..." I breathed, not really listening. Terry glanced at me and smirked. 

"The twins are hot as hell too, aren't they?" 

"Definitely..." 

"Yeah... so hot..." Terry joined me in gazing as we leaned against the marquee a little while away from the boys. We both stared unashamedly at the twins, practically drooling, our cheeks an identical shade of pink. 

"Ugh, look at all these weirdos! Suits and dresses are one thing, but seriously, what are those old ones wearing?" George's voice came. 

"When I get married," Fred said, tugging at his collar and fanning himself with the seating plan, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

I blushed furiously at the mention of Fred's future wedding. 

"Yeah, you been thinking a lot about your future with Softpaw, eh, Red?" I could hear the smirk in George's voice from all the way over there, but before Fred had the chance to retort, said, "Oh blimey, brace yourselves, here the hordes come, look."

Brightly coloured figures were appearing, one by one out of nowhere at the distant boundary of the yard, just after the group of old people that had disappeared into the Burrow. Within minutes a procession had formed, which began to snake its way up through the garden toward 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.

"Excellent, I think I see a few Veela cousins." George said, craning his neck for a better look. "They'll need help understanding our English customs, I'll look after them..." 

"Hey, Freddie. Where am I sitting?" I strode up to the boys, beaming. They all turned to me, and the three Weasley boys' mouths dropped open. Harry turned his glare upon Ron, who immediately averted his eyes and adopted an expression appropriate to the sickbed of a close friend. Meanwhile, Fred and George's eyes were roaming over my body, widened and darkened. I placed my hands on my hips confidently, feeling smug at the fact that George appeared to have forgotten all about the cousins and that Fred's bottom lip had been drawn into his mouth by his teeth. 

"I'll - I'll show you to your seat, you absolute fucking stunner." Fred finally composed himself, blinking rapidly as he gazed at me, and stretched an arm out. I took it, blowing a kiss at George, who looked as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, winked at Ron, who nearly fainted, and grinned at Harry, who scowled disapprovingly at me. 

"C'mon, Hopper!" I reached out with my other hand and grabbed Terry's arm; the weird little boy cackled as Fred led us into the marquee, clearly still infatuated with me as he couldn't keep his eyes off me. My boyfriend led me down the aisle, both of our cheeks burning as I felt suddenly at peace with this. At peace with Fred walking me down an aisle... if only it was the other way, him walking me down after we'd just gotten married, instead of him just showing me to my seat at someone else's wedding... 

Jesus Christ, Daisy, you've only been dating a few months. How deep in love are you that you're thinking of marriage this soon into the relationship? 

Hagrid was causing a certain amount of disruption. Having misunderstood George's directions, he had sat himself, not upon the magically enlarged and reinforced seat set aside for him in the back row, but on five seats that now resembled a large pile of golden matchsticks. While Mr Weasley repaired the damage and Hagrid shouted apologies to anybody who would listen, Fred gestured me graciously onto my seat in the second row. I took it, beaming up at him as he took my hand and brushed his lips along my skin, his chocolate eyes twinkling at me. 

Terry shuffled past us into the seat beside me, munching on a hot dog. I felt a giggle bubble up inside me as Fred rolled his eyes, sending me one last grin before disappearing through the crowd back to the entrance. 

"Where the fuck did you get a hot dog?" I asked, and Terry shrugged, taking another bite. 

A chattering group that consisted of people Bill's age sat nearby, laughing and talking animatedly. The three main people of the group, Emmy, Jacob, and Merula according to the greeting calls of other people across the marquee, roared with laughter as Terry glanced back at them, grinning. 

"Fellow gays." He told me, nodding at Emmy and Merula. He was right; next moment, the two women were engaging in a passionate kiss. 

Ron appeared with an elderly witch clutching his arm. Her beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and leathery 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 omelet. And you're Daisy Potter, correct?" She barked at me.

"Oh yeah, Auntie Muriel, this is -" 

"Yes, yes, boy, I know who she is. Well, the Chosen One, are you? I hope that Fred one marries you so we have someone notable in the family. Good genes. Well, I've just been instructing the bride on how best to wear my tiara." She shouted at me. "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 me a meaningful look as he passed and did not reappear for some time. The marquee was nearly full now and for the first time I could see no queue outside.

"Nightmare, Muriel is." Ron said when he next appeared beside us, mopping his forehead on his sleeve. "She used to come for Christmas every year, then, thank Godric, 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..." 

Harry joined us with Kylie just then; Kylie let out a little, "Wow!" as she spotted Hermione coming towards us. 

She smiled. "Thanks, babe. Ron's 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." Ron said.

"Talking about Muriel?" George inquired, reentering the group with Fred. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided, so thanks, Softpaw. 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?" Terry asked.

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end." George conceded as Fred took his seat beside me, sliding onto the seat beside him. 

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party." Fred said. "He used to down an entire bottle of Firewhiskey, then run onto the dance floor, pull down his fly, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his -" 

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer." Hermione said, while Harry, Kylie, Terry, and I roared with laughter.

"Never married, for some reason." Ron said, as Draco approached Terry and Terry diverted his attention from us.

"You amaze me." Hermione said.

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 tuxedos, with large white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling. Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.

"Ooooh!" Hermione said, 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 Fenrir Greyback.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A slightly singsong voice said, and with a slight shock, I saw the same small, 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 set off the whole thing nicely." Auntie Muriel said in a rather carrying whisper. "But I must say, Daisy Potter's dress is far too low cut."

I shot a glance at my friends, and we all dissolved into quiet giggles, which we tried very painfully to repress. Fred's hand landed on my bare thigh as he doubled over in mirth, and I sobered up immediately, blushing. 

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...?"

In the front row, Mrs Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Terry turned around and beamed at me; his eyes too were full of tears.

"... Then I declare you bonded for life."

The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling 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!" The tufty-haired wizard called. "If you would please stand up!"

We all did so, Auntie Muriel grumbling audibly; he waved his wand again. The seats on which we had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that we 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 center 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 round it, and the golden-jacketed band trooped toward a podium.

"Smooth." Draco sad approvingly as the waiters popped up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, Butterbeer, and Firewhiskey, others tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches.

I had never been to a Muggle wedding before, so I could not judge how Wizarding celebrations differed from Muggle ones, though I was pretty sure that the latter would not involve a wedding cake topped with two model phoenixes that took flight when the cake was cut, or bottles of champagne that floated unsupported through the crowd. While Kylie’s family wedding was spectacular and awe-striking in every way, extravagant and luxurious, a Weasley wedding seemed to be more down-to-earth and cozy, with as much banter and fun as you could possibly imagine. I spent the better part of the day chattering and laughing with my group of friends, making happy memories. As the evening drew in, and moths began to swoop under the canopy, now lit with floating golden lanterns, the revelry became more and more uncontained. 

"May I have this dance?" One of the countless Weasley cousins extended his hand towards me as I laughed with my friends. 

"Sure!" I grinned, taking it. I let the handsome cousin lead me into the middle of the dance floor, where he spun me around immediately into his arms. "Oh!" I giggled, swaying with him to the music. 

"You're a cutie, aren't you?" The cousin purred into my ear, and I grinned. I made eye contact with Fred across the dance floor, and his brown eyes were burning with jealousy. He broke the contact to talk to George, and I sank back into the cousin's arms, swaying deeper with him. 

"I am, what about it?" I replied, turning to face him with a wide, charming smile. His eyes darkened, and his hands slid down to my hips. We swung around in a circle, me facing Fred again over his cousin's shoulder, and smirking to myself as my eyes made contact with his again. His jaw was set, and he didn't seem to be taking in any of what George was saying. 

"I'm thinking I want to kiss you." Fred's cousin said, smirking down at me. 

"Well, that's a bit forward, mate." I grinned. The cousin spun me around, guiding my hips to sway in front of him as he grinded into my ass. I burst out laughing as Fred slammed his glass of Firewhiskey down on the nearest table and strode over to us, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes flashing. 

"Get lost, Brandon." Fred growled at the Weasley cousin, and Brandon cowed, immediately letting go of me and disappearing into the crowd. Fred turned to me. "You. Get over here. Now." 

I shivered in delight, taking a step towards my boyfriend. He grabbed my waist, yanking me in close to him. I took a deep breath as I gazed up into his eyes. 

"You just LOVE teasing me, don't you?" Fred breathed out as we started swaying together. 

"It keeps things interesting." I admitted, biting my lip as his hands tightened around my waist. 

"Brandon's not going to get his greasy hands on you again, well." 

"I didn't think his hands were greasy -" 

"It seems you know a bit too much about him already, Softpaw." 

My heart started to beat faster in excitement. Fred's hands were drifting down, down... and his body was pressed up against mine, his hot breath hitting my ear... 

And soon we were disappearing into the softly-lit orchard, giggling and kissing and feeling each other up, eventually falling back onto a stone bench and Fred yanking me onto his lap, unbuckling as I pulled my dress up around my hips, riding him passionately until we both collapsed onto each other ten minutes later, panting and exhausted and satisfied. 

And when we returned, it was to a slow ballad, and we danced to it under the fairy lights, swaying slowly and gently together, gazing into each other's eyes. 

"I can't wait until I marry you, baby." Fred said softly as his loving eyes gazed into mine. 

My heart fluttered. I've never felt this way. Never felt this way towards anyone before... 

I searched for the words to reply, but it did not matter, for at that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the 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."