𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐑 ━━
✧˖*. | ❝Dear Willa...❞ | ✧˖*.
Willa Jackel is a flirtatious Gryffindor who has no filter and loves talking to people, so she's shocked to find out she has a secret admirer who's too scared to talk to her in person.
✎↷...
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Harry - in disguise - and Viktor shook hands before Ron showed Viktor to his seat. Everyone began going to their assigned seats. Willa sat next to George and Fred was next to Marisol. Arthur and Molly strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives. A moment later, Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large white roses in their buttonholes. Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Marisol slightly frowned at that. Then, the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.
"Ooooh!" said Hermione, swiveling around in her seat to look at the entrance.
A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else, by comparison, today it beautified everybody it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.
"You would have been beautiful up there," George whispered. "Everyone would be absolutely awestruck by you."
"I'm not related to your family or Fleur's family, silly," Willa whispered. "Now, shush."
"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice. "We are here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls..."
"That'll be us one day," whispered George.
"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...?"
In the front row, Molly and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpet-like sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Hermione beamed at Harry with tears in her eyes. Willa was tightly clinging onto George's hand.
"...then I declare you bonded for life."
The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst. Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their own songs and chimes to the din.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" called the tufty-haired wizard."'If you would please stand up!" called the tufty-haired wizard.
They all did so. The seats on which they had been sitting on rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished so that they stood beneath a canopy supported by a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor.
"Let's dance, love," George suggested.
Willa nodded, taking his hand.
Before they could dance, something large and silver through the canopy over the dance floor. The lynx gracefully landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Then, the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
