Champions

The wedding

The rest of the week was remarkably calm, all things considered. Harry attended his classes during the day, and split his evenings between Fleur and Sebastian. The latter had a number of things to discuss with him, ranging from recommended changes to his financial position, to explaining how the wedding would work.

And then he blinked, and the week was gone.

Before he knew it, he found himself standing in a daze on the grounds of the Chateau, which turned out to be an actual castle. While it was the size of an average mansion rather than something like Hogwarts, it was still quite impressive. Situated on plush, expansive grounds, it was like something out of a fairytale.

Light-colored stonework glittered under the rays of the morning sun, giving the place an almost ethereal glow that reminded him of Fleur. Beautiful stained glass was interspersed here and there among large picture windows, as though the designer wanted the beauty without sacrificing the view of the grounds. Spires rose at the four corners like miniature versions of Gryffindor Tower.

And all around was an expanse of rolling hills and valleys, carpeted with plush green grass, and dotted here and there with trees so ancient that they had probably outlived even Merlin himself. The ocean was visible on the horizon, and the sound of distant waves crashing upon the shore was remarkably soothing. It was breathtaking, and incredibly peaceful.

But Harry was having a hard time taking it in.

A heavy weight had settled on him in the last hours as he realized the sheer magnitude of what was about to happen. True, for three weeks now he'd known intellectually that he was getting married, and that it was forever, but that was intellectually. His subconscious mind, on the other hand, insisted on seeing it as just another adventure that would last through the year and be done.

But that wasn't going to happen, was it? Never again would he return to his dreary existence at the Dursleys; instead he would be here in this idyllic setting. This was his reality now, but it didn't seem at all real; how could it be? It was too good to be true.

And then there was Fleur. She was no longer merely a visiting guest who he barely knew and wouldn't have to worry about after the year was over. No, in too short a time, she would become his wife who he barely knew instead.

She was not simply going away. She would be part of his life forever. He could barely fathom the actual meaning of the word, and where he once had vague ideas and dreams about how his future would go, he no longer had a single clue. What would it be like living with her for the rest of his life?

The entire concept was incomprehensible, and thinking about it made his chest tighten painfully.

"Ready, kiddo?"

Harry blinked out of his daze and turned to see his godfather approaching from the direction of the Chateau. Nobody had told him ahead of time that he'd made it to safety, and it was a wonderful surprise. He looked much better: gone were the rags and the matted hair, and in their place were fine robes and a sleek ponytail that made him look quite distinguished.

True, his eyes were still haunted, and he had a long way to go before his cheeks would lose that sunken look, but it was still a massive improvement, and lessened Harry's worries considerably. Instead of running from the Ministry, he would live with the Delacours until something more permanent could be arranged. He would eat well and be comfortable, and Harry would be able to see him from time to time, which was brilliant.

Harry snorted morbidly at him, though. "Ready?" he echoed in honest confusion. "Sirius, I don't think I'll be ready for this in ten years! What the hell am I doing?"

Sirius approached him and studied his expression for a long moment. "You're saving the life of a beautiful girl," he said seriously as he clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a damn fine thing to do, and the rest will work itself out, alright? Now, just try to relax and get through it."