Ravenclaw's Shadow

Chapter 65

"Invitations are done!" I high-five George as we post off the last of our invitations.

"What's next on the list?" he asks.

"Dress shopping for me," I say, "our mothers and Georgiana are taking me this weekend."

"I'm so sorry," George says with a laugh, "what else?"

"We're doing really well, actually," I say, looking down the list, "we've got the venues booked, catering done, flowers arranged, decorations organised, colour scheme... We just need to get the bridesmaids dresses and matching ties for the groomsmen."

"Is that really all?" George asks.

"Well, wedding favours," I say, "oh, and Fred mentioned that he's organising you a stag night. No strippers!"

"Same goes for you, then."

"Deal."

We shake on it.

"We're not bad at this whole marriage thing," George says.

"Well, it's six months until it happens, let's not jinx it," I say.

On Saturday morning I'm woken by our doorbell going off. I drag myself out of bed and scramble around to find a dressing gown before walking downstairs.

"Mum?"

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" she demands, waltzing in, "we're meeting Molly in half an hour!"

"What time is it?" I ask, squinting at the clock.

"Nearly eleven," Mum says, "what were you doing last night? No, I changed my mind, I don't want to know."

"Let me get dressed," I yawn, stumbling back upstairs. George is already at work, so at least he's saved from my mother being the first sight of the morning.

"Okay, let's go," I say once I'm human. Metaphorically speaking.

We meet Mrs Weasley and Georgiana outside a huge bridal shop, which is apparently owned by an old magical family. As soon as we step inside Mum and Mrs Weasley disappear into the sea of white.

"Keep me sane," I say, linking arms with Georgiana.

"What kind of dress are you looking for?" she asks as Mum harasses one of the consultants.

"I like the mermaid style," I say, "but it's on the beach, so I'm thinking more flowy."

"And white?"

"I dunno. Not black."

"Just pick some that you like," Georgiana says, "get a feel for it."

"Aurelia!" Mum rushes over, "we've got a change room for you, dresses are already in there."

"I haven't picked any yet!"

"We have!" Mum says, dragging me over. She shoves me into the dressing room and the consultant strips me and puts me in a dress.

"No, no way," I say, looking in the mirror.

"LET ME SEE!" Mum demands.

"Hold it!" Georgiana says, pushing her way into the room, "this is her dress, her choice. No more dresses unless she has picked it!"

I can feel tension brewing between Mum and Georgiana and quickly intervene.

"I'll send you home," I threaten Mum, "seriously. All of these dresses are too gaudy for me. I want something simpler."

"Your wedding dress should be gaudy!" Mum argues.

"Nope, you dressed me for seventeen years, and it's not happening again," I say firmly, "I'm getting out of this dress and finding something I like."