The Black Sheep | George Weasley

Sixty-Three: Wedding

It was late notice, but Lyra ran to a bridal shop under disguise and right before closing, she grabbed a white dress that seemed simple and yet beautiful. It had a pettycoat underneath that flared the skirt that ended at her calves. It had an oval neckline like many vintage wedding dresses from the 1960s and was sleeveless. It reminded her of something Audrey Hepburn would wear.

She had a matching short princess coat to wear over her dress. Every lady had gloves, she just wore an old pair she had in her trunk. She turned her black cat-heel shoe white for the the occasion. She changed the color of her fascinator and the color of it's wiry veil.

Lyra could hardly sleep that night. She had to wake up before dawn, get dressed and leave with Angelina to an unknown place.

She hadn't eaten a thing as she woke at five in the morning. She quickly took her hair out of rollers and brushed out her curls to make them look pretty and neat, that took some time. Then she quickly put on a glamour charm for makeup and made her black hair stay put. She put on her many layers of clothing, she was lucky it was getting colder as autumn started to settle in.

She popped to the front door where Angelina was in a simple dress. She was hugging her coat to her form. She seemed tired as well.

"Ready?" She whispered.

Lyra's stomach was in knots. She couldn't believe this was happening. She had felt a creeping anxiety attack coming along, if she didn't take a calming drought, she'd be a shaking mess.

"Yes," Lyra answered.

Angelina grabbed her arm and they disapparated.

When Lyra felt her feet hit the ground, her breath shook despite the potion. There was a pavement walkway right down to where George stood in a suit and tie. On either side of the walkway were beech trees that were large and had twisty branches that stood ominously. But it was private. She could hear mourning doves calling in the distance as the sun was now creeping over the horizon, lighting the sky in orange light and making England look golden.

Lyra felt her legs grow weak as she sees them. Fred in a long black robe with a leather book in his hand. Lee stood behind George in a suit and on the opposite side was Alicia, who she imagined still felt gravely guilty. Despite the tension, they need witnesses.

"Don't look so pale, rich girl." Angelina smirked teasingly.

"I'm afraid, I'm not rich anymore." Lyra told her with a shaky chuckle.

"George hasn't slept all night. I don't think any of the boys did." Angelina said as they started to slowly walk down the pavement. "Lee swiped some wedding papers from the Ministry. He flirted his way into getting it." They giggled lightly. "Fred quickly became an officiate, which isn't hard at all actually. He basically had to learn one bloody spell. Alicia set up the setting and showed lots of remorse by baking all night for after the wedding. I barely did anything but put a dress on and learn your address." She sighed heavily. "You look beautiful by the way, for a prat."

"I'll take it, pauper."

Angelina gasped before bursting out into a laugh. They nearly made it to them, just a few more steps... and she's handed off to George.

She stood before her boyfriend, shortly made fiance. This was mad. They kept fighting and on the brinks of breaking up, but he loves her so much and wanted to protect her, that he is marrying her. She wished she had more of a choice, but choices aren't given to people during war.

Fred pulled out a velvet ribbon and with the couple's joined hands, he binded them together. "There, now she can't run away." Fred teased.

Angelina joined behind the scared Lyra. George smiled at her as if she was the most enchanting thing he had ever bloody seen.