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xxxix. THIRTY-NINE
CRASH THE WEDDING!
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IT WAS UNFORTUNATE THAT THE PEOPLE ATTENDING THE WEDDING WERE INFORMED OF THE DEATH EATERS AND THEIR PLANS BEFORE THEY HAD EVEN ARRIVED. Apparitions were occurring across the grounds prior to the first black spiral of smoke that smashed into the tent. But once Melora Lestrange's cloud of black dust had transported her into the centre of the temporary room, it didn't take much longer for the others to follow suit.
Screams had probably been sounding long before she had made her unwelcomed entrance, but they seemed to be excessively loud once she and the other Death Eaters had appeared.
The tent was up in flames faster than she'd anticipated it to, and guests were fleeing from it to escape burning (despite her background, she would rather not witness that). There were bodies surrounding her, pushing her about. She could barely balance; one minute she was on her feet, perfectly fine, and the next she was being bumped into and forced over in one direction or another.
Eventually, she managed to shove her way to the back of the tent, where she was separated enough from the chaos erupting across the rest the tent to focus. She could see Atlanta Rowle, in a duel with someone she didn't know, taunting him over and over. She could see Molly and Arthur Weasley, rounding up the children who were still in the tent. And then, she could see him, too.
As she, yet again, forced her way through the screaming crowds of people, she felt like a complete moron to be so distracted at a time like this. Her thoughts should have rested on finding Harry Potter, but instead only lingered on George. This was his home, after all. It was the place she had hidden at for two months whilst she was too panicked to stay with her family. And to be more precise, it was the place where she had had her first real kiss.
See, her mother knew about the kiss. She'd seen it in Melora's memories, and she'd been doing her best to set up her daughter to hurt the Weasleys as much as possible. Yet, she hadn't told anyone else about it. Melora had always thought that upsetting her mother would be the worst. But if anyone else were to discover her relationship with George, Bellatrix would have to disown her. And at this point, being disowned would come as a treat. Although, perhaps she wouldn't be in as much trouble as she had feared.
After all, it was him that had kissed her.
George Weasley looked completely baffled as he watched what was happening before him. The screaming guests, the cries of fear and pain, the laughter of Death Eaters, and the constant spells that were being thrown around the tent. But what he remained to be more shocked with, was when a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him aside from the chaos, and before he could protest, before he could cry out, his lips pressed against someone else's.
Melora knew that it didn't have to be her fault before. She could've easily gotten out of it if she had placed the offence solely on George. But she'd just kissed him, instead. And now, it was just as much her fault as it was his.
He only realised what was going on once it was over. She turned around, and hurried back into the crowds, throwing the odd spell at people who tried to attack her. He was calling her name, but she blocked him out. She was aware of what she was supposed to be doing - and even if she hadn't been, she could work out that kissing a Weasley was not on the agenda. She reached Atlanta, and was successful in stunning her opponent for her. The two of them then continued the search for Harry Potter, but in the crowds, it was absolutely pointless.
"I can't see a thing!" Atlanta growled, doing her best to fight the crowd, no matter how useless it was. "Who would have thought that the Weasleys could know so many people?
Melora rolled her eyes, muttering something along the lines of agreement, but she wasn't too focused on what Atlanta was saying. The scene that they were currently in was manic, and it seemed to be a representation of her mind at the current moment, too. She couldn't think at all.
She was in the middle of a fight, and she'd kissed George Weasley, just to prove a point. What was she - insane? She wasn't going to find Harry Potter, not if she was like this. Melora knew that she should've snapped out of it, and just completed her task like she was expected to, but she also knew that that was merely impossible.
The crowds were decreasing in size now that people had begun to Disapparate, but she still managed to lose Atlanta through the remains of them. And then, she really had no idea what to do. She wasn't just lost in the crowds, she was lost in her mind. How was she supposed to focus?
"Melora!" someone cried, a little angrily. She whipped her head around, expecting to see Atlanta again, but was stunned to see Ginny storming over to her. She instantly regretted acknowledging the voice. "How are you still on their side?" the girl shouted at her, nearly spitting as she spoke. "After everything George has done for you? After everything my parents have done for you? After everything I've done for you?"
Melora scoffed. "You? What have you done?"
Ginny glared at her. "Oh, I only saved your life. No biggie."
But Melora still had no clue as to what the girl was talking about. When had she let herself get into a situation in which a child as young as Ginny Weasley would be able to step forth and save her? How could she ever be so pathetic?
"Hayley Phipps hit you with a Bludger at your last Quidditch match," Ginny explained, when the older girl clearly had no memory of such an important event. "You fell off your broom, and it was me who cast the spell that basically stopped you falling to your death."
Melora glowered at her. "Don't lie to me. That was not you."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Tell me, Melora. What side are you on within this war?"
"Not yours," she said back, her voice low and difficult to pick up on as she spoke. Lies, they were. Melora knew it. But would she ever really turn her back on her family, the life she knew and once loved dearly? It was only darkness now. A black abyss, with no way out. She knew it. She had done for a long time.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Ginny said, rather maturely. "Because no matter what you want to believe, we both know who's side you want to be on."
"No," Melora said sternly. "I don't want to be some huge fan of the Chosen One, thank you. And I will never want to be on his side."
"I never said that you would," Ginny shook her head, turning to her family to escape to safety. "It doesn't have to be Harry's side, does it? I mean, it could be George's side."
Melora glared at her as she watched the girl Disapparate with her family, away from the scene. Harry Potter had obviously been long gone, which is what she'd been expecting, even before they'd started. Yet, the others were still fighting, so that's precisely what she decided to do.
A couple of stuns and the odd duel later, and Melora felt sick. Why couldn't she just do as she was told? Now, instead of finding Potter, she'd been successful in kissing someone supposedly insignificant, being told that his sister had saved her from a certain death, and remaining conflicted between what side of the war she wanted to fight on.
