[15] ; THE WEDDING

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AUBREY COULDN'T HELP but stare at the white bandage wrapped around George Weasley's head, protecting his blown off left ear. She couldn't believe he got cursed, and the witch felt bad. If she would've mentioned to The Order that their plan was exposed, maybe, just maybe George's ear wouldn't have been blown off, and Mad-Eye Moody wouldn't be dead.

"Didn't you ever learn it's rude to stare at people?" George mused, a teasing smirk curling on his lips.

Aubrey chuckled. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it. I just can't believe your ear got blown off."

"I'm holey," George joked, busting out laughing, like it was the funniest thing in the world.

The brunette witch imitated a drum beat, appreciating the joke. Harry had walked in, saying hello to the one half of the Weasley twins, wrapping his arms around Aubrey's waist, pecking her cheek.

"Morning, love," Harry sleepy greeted her.

Aubrey smiled softly. "Morning. Did you sleep well?" She glanced over at him, before grabbing herself a cup of coffee.

Harry nodded fixing his black tie that was around his neck. It was the morning of Bill and Fleur's wedding, and all was filled with excitement. Love was in the air, and everyone seemed to be feeling it. Even with a war brewing, it was the last chance to do something special.

Aubrey was cladded with a golden dress; sleeveless; sweet-heart neckline; flaring down from the waist. Her hair was styled up, only a few locks of her brunette hair curled down around her face. She was absolutely breathtaking-and Harry took notice of it.

"I can't believe a wedding is happening in the midst of what's going on," Aubrey wondered out loud, her lips pursed.

"Most likely having it in spite of what's going on," Harry shrugged.

Ron and Hermione had came into the kitchen, greeting the couple. The red-haired Weasley frowned, peering out the window.

"What the hell is the Minister of Magic doing here?" He questioned.

Molly had welcomed the Minister into the home, as the quartet stared at him with confusion and annoyance. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?" Harry asked.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter," the Minister began.

The quartet sat on the couch in the living room, as the Minister sat across from them on a chair. "Herein is said forth...the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," as the Minister took out a scroll from his briefcase.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 ›› 𝐇. 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ✓Where stories live. Discover now