The Hayes & Finnigan Wedding

The mirror was gilded around the edges, crafted in the Louis XV style that Lavender Finnigan had long coveted. Her daughter’s reflection was poised and perfected, her smile painted on with a smudge of lipstick, and it hid the crumbling interior that betrayed her and presented to the all-knowing maternal eye a terrified young woman. The truth was as clear and bright as the dawning morning: Trenton Thomas would not come and sweep her away, proclaiming the love he’d always denied Millie from having, from being assured with. It was a realisation that brought a long forgotten wetness to her eyes, smudging the makeup that her mother had painstakingly prettied her eyes with. Yet Millie heard no scolding from her mother’s lips and was instead pulled against the woman’s middle in an embrace that sucked away all of the mothering instinct that Lavender had stored up in her little finger - for she had no true unconditional, innate love for her children, something they had always resented her for. Yet despite herself she understood in some sort of unfathomable way and she hugged her daughter, making up for all of the years she didn’t and peppered kisses into her hair to replace those she failed to give, murmuring her apologies for herself and for what her daughter had been forced into with no recognisable exit.

Millie lifted her head out of her mother’s arms and shuffled away, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, twisting the tips of her fingers beneath her eyes in order to try and stifle herself - but regardless of her best intentions the tears continued to fall. Lavender laughed above her and Millie looked up as her mother slowly raked her fingers through the dirty blonde locks that they shared. Her hands came around Millie’s cheeks and she wiped away the running make-up with her thumbs, a soft smile drifting across her face as she looked upon her daughter, wondering where she’d gone wrong, where their relationship had disintegrated into nothingness. Millie opened her mouth as though to say something she’d been waiting to utter but Lavender shushed her, reaching for one of the hairbrushes on the bureau, determined that there would be no heart-to-hearts that would see both faces of make-up ruined. Despite the moment’s progress, Lavender Finnigan would never change -- appearances most definitely mattered, even if it was only in front of her daughter.

“I don’t want to do this, Mum.” Millie whispered as Lavender slowly brought the brush through the back of her hair. “I don’t know how to do this. Not the wedding thing the... the husband and wife thing.”

Lavender bit her lip and nodded, screwing her lips to the side of her face as she thought, her hand still rhythmically extracting the knots from Millie’s hair.

“Things are different now,” Lavender began slowly. “But you are blessed, my darling. You have a man who is of this world; not a boy who has to find a foothold in it, hm? Only good can come of that - security, relative happiness.”

“Only relative,” Millie murmured, meeting her mother’s gaze in the mirror. “To make children who...who will be brought up in a place where ... where...” Millie closed her eyes and brought a hand up to her face, smothering out her eyes from the sight of her mother.

“It will be a home.” Lavender insisted. “I trust you to make a home together with your husband and fill it with what you both need first before you complicate matters. To hell with the Ministry, Millie. You need to do what’s right for you and you’ll do that. You’ll make a home, you’ll have laughter and love and you’ll have tears and anger but in the end it will be alright, you will see.”

“How can you say that?” Millie asked, “When your marriage ended in death?”

Lavender sighed. “I never stopped loving your father, Millie. Never.”

The Finnigan party had been setting up the barn ready for the reception and cajoling with the band that was weary but wide awake enough to start practising for the day ahead. The cousins to the bride had been throwing out tables and sorting out chairs for the wedding that was due to take place in the lands surrounding the manor house in which they’d all decided to hole up in for the duration of the weekend’s festivities. The barn had been converted into a room which was made ideal for the reception and the party and outside, chairs were laid out and a white carpet had been turned out to make an aisle. Once details were decided upon by the fussing wives and sisters of the gentlemen, everything was complete and the majority of the Finnigans sat down on the steps outside the manor, exchanging lighters and cigarettes as they took a moment to admire their work.

Elliot tipped his head back into the lap of his elder cousin Lauren and smirked up at her before bringing the cigarette between his fingers to his lips. He inhaled deeply and sat up again to release the smoke from his lungs with a heavy sigh, realising just as his sister had that it was the beginning of the rest of their lives, marked abjectly with the manner in which Millie was marrying. She, Melissa Adriana Finnigan, marrying - devoid of all of the endearments that such occasions demanded. It made his heart smart to think of that reality but, like his mother, he knew that Millie had gotten lucky where otherwise she mightn’t have done. In Elliot’s case, he had to learn to provide for his match but Kieran didn’t have that stumbling block and Millie didn’t have to face that concern. It would be fine, surely.

“Feels like they finally caught the bird, don’t it?” Reuben, Lauren’s younger brother, muttered between the exhales of smoke that drifted from his lips. He accepted eagerly the flask that was handed to him and he took a swig before passing it onto Elliot who merely stoically took it, looking it over for a moment before he too took a mouthful and passed it on.

“The death of a girl riding on the crest of a wave,” He replied, sighing. “Caught, you’re right, Rue.” He shook his head and flicked the ash away with a twitch of his fingers towards the end of the length of the cigarette.

“You’ve got to carry on though, haven’t you?” Reuben continued, rising to his feet. “Today, a Finnigan becomes a Hayes and a Hayes becomes a Finnigan, Merlin help him.” Rueben smirked.

Elliot chuckled, raising his hand in the air, his fingers curled as though he was holding a glass. “To Millie and Kieran.”

The other intoned his sentiment and they laughed amongst themselves before slowly getting back to their feet, stubbing out or flicking away their cigarettes and wrapping closer around them their coats and jumpers and cardigans. Then, the group of Finnigans slowly made their way back inside, greeting those that were already hanging around in the interior of the manor house, awaiting breakfast or looking for friends, family, whatever.

“It’ll be alright, won’t it, Laur?” Elliot asked, looking over at his cousin who merely smiled and nodded back at him. “Thank Merlin,” he whispered.

As wizards, one would expect them to create things all the time and figure out what was best for a wedding. Why was it, then, that Keiran was left in this bizarre side room attached to the barn? Had it actually been there before? Perhaps not, and it was the best someone could do. He probably should have been complaining, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak at all, actually.

He was fairly certain he hadn't said a word all morning, not to anyone. Instead he had gone along with what was expected, heading straight to the dressing room he had been assigned to wait. He couldn't see Millie until the thing after all, so what else was he to do? Keiran couldn't very well walk out and hope she wasn't out there. What a lot of trouble he would get into if she was there.

"...Earth to Keiran? Hello?"

Looking back at the door, he found it open, a blonde standing there watching him with rather sad eyes. She closed the door behind her and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry, love." She murmured into his chest.

"Don't say that." Keiran scolded lightly, patting her hair. He ignored the surprise at her words, instead taking it as a generic statement one makes when someone has to do something they're not particularly fond of, or wanted to do in the first place. "I know it will work out. I know you haven't met her, but she's rather lovely."

Avery looked up at him in surprise. "You like her?" Keiran could see the smirk growing on her face and couldn't say he was surprised.

"Well, I don't know yet. I mean, we get on alright. I could see it in time, if she gives it the chance." He shrugged. Everything would turn out how it was meant to be in the end. Or something like that.

"How did your mum take it?" She asked, releasing him and sitting in a chair a step or two away. Avery's hand came up to mess with her curls.

"As expected, I suppose." Keiran shrugged, pulling her hand away from her hair. If she messed it up Avery would be furious. Guaranteed. "She just allowed Melissa and her mum to plan it however they liked, provided it could be kind of outdoors. You know how we are about that."

"Growing up with horses? Yes, I can imagine." Avery laughed brightly, choosing to settle her hands in her lap.

Keiran looked her over for a moment before smiling. "Lovely dress."

Avery looked down at the dark red number she was wearing - it had always been her favorite color. Grinning she looked up at him and shrugged happily. "You and your fiancee can't be the only ones who looks brilliant. I daresay I won't be near as pretty as Melissa, though."

"In her wedding dress? I should think not." Keiran laughed, not realizing has he said it how serious he was. She raised an eyebrow and he found himself practically able to read her mind. "I haven't seen the dress, don't panic. I know the rules." He smiled at her laugh before continuing, "I just.. Well.."

"You just want it to be correct so you can know you've been matched properly. That it will work." She mused.

Frowning, Keiran nodded subtly. "I just know how someone is supposed to feel when the girl walks down the aisle. You know? And I desperately wish it would happen here. I would feel rather guilty if it didn't."

Avery gave him a half-smile, knowing full well that Keiran was the type to let his guilt eat him. Strange for a Slytherin, she supposed. But it was true nonetheless. If he could make things work with this girl, Avery knew he would. He was definitely the kind of man who would hate making a girl think she wasn't cared about. She knew that story quite well - their history was full of weird moments that pointed that characteristic out. Deciding it was best to change the subject, she pretended to be put out.

"So, where in the world is your best man? Shouldn't he be here by now?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Being late is never good."

"He still has five minutes, love. Calm down." Keiran laughed.

Pausing, he turned to look at the mirror once more. He hadn't really seen Robin or Avery since the night the boys made a bet. What had happened? He nearly opened his mouth to ask her, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, Keiran just kept quiet for a bit.

A knock at the door broke the silence, and Keiran turned to answer it.

((OOC: Insert Robin here ))

Robin couldn't help find the entire situation vaguely amusing. Confident, charismatic, Keiran was getting married. It was a strange thought for the younger man who hadn't seen his friend interested in a girl beyond a night. Neither of the men had ever seemed particularly keen on a commitment and they never lived with anything other than their mutual single-ness. If he wasn't Keiran's wingman, what was he?

His best man. That's right. Robin hadn't forgotten. Della had dutifully woken him in the morning, the smell of fresh coffee already wafting though the house in an attempt to help him rise more willingly. Her efforts were only slightly successful - Robin woke, but not willingly or happily. He had taken a long shower, letting the hot water pour over his head and shoulders, the heat soaking into his skin and bones in contrast to the chilly air.

Robin made and eaten breakfast in his underwear, despite Della's urgings to get ready. Why on Earth had Keiran felt the need to get married at such an ungodly hour?

He had offered to take Della to the wedding but had been slightly surprised when she had agreed. Of course, it made sense that she would want to get out (they had been cooped up in his home for weeks now), he just didn't expect her to want to get out at this event. As far as Robin was aware she wasn't close to Keiran's bride, despite being her age. After only slight hesitation, Robin had agreed with himself that it would be good for her to see some familiar people, even if they didn't know it was her.

The blonde hair and angular face of Cordella Quinn sat next to him now. He was far from used to it's change, even after seeing it every day. Despite her bleached hair she looked darker this way and he wasn't sure if it was the makeover or the Azkaban that caused her eyes to furrow with such anger. Not that she didn't look good - she did. Just different. Not.. Della. Robin missed her thick brown hair and soft pink lips that were so kissable. He knew he couldn't complain about the beauty in front of him, especially with her on his arm.

They were on a muggle train to a town not too far from Hogsmede, where they would be able to walk into the wedding from. While the trip was probably an inconvenience to Della, Robin had insisted on it. She had long ago accepted his paralyzing fear of apperation and neither had wanted to dirty their expensive wedding outfits by taking the floo. It had taken Robin long enough to get ready the first time, without messing it up again.

"So what should we call you tonight?" Robin inquired, sipping at the coffee he had ordered from the bar car. They couldn't exactly parade the blonde around as Cordella. She was a wanted criminal now - by becoming an escapee she had become just as guilty as they had claimed she was. He flicked through the box of tea bags that was on their table, "Jasmine? Ginger?" he laughed to himself.

The pair got into Hogsmede later than Robin had hoped. Like always, he was late.

Apologizing to Della with a kiss on the cheek, Robin left her in the main lobby to mingle with the other guests. It probably wasn't the smartest to let a young girl on the Ministry watch list wander about without any supervision but there weren't many other options. Robin smoothed out the front of his tux, which he had managed to wrinkle even without the assistance of the floo, and headed to the back rooms that the bridal party was in.

He found the room that he recognized as Keiran's from the description he had been given and knocked, unsure what scene he was about to walk into. In a matter of seconds the door was thrown open by none other than the groom himself. Robin stepped in without waiting to be invited and smiled at his best friend. "Congratulations, mate." he clapped him on the shoulder. "She's a lucky woman." Yes, as tragic as the Ministry law was, this day was slightly comical.

Avery looked down at her hands as Keiran opened the door, brow furrowing at the voice that greeted her best friend. Didn't she know that voice? It was oddly familiar. Glancing up, all she saw was the back of Keiran's head. It was difficult being short, but sitting down certainly wasn't helping things.

"Thanks." Keiran laughed, though he clearly hadn't accepted the full pressures of the day yet. "Glad you made it. I know it was early for how you travel."

Avery tried not to eavesdrop or anything like that, but she had rarely met someone who didn't travel like everyone else. Of course. She could have slapped herself. She ought to have known. The idea that Robin was going to be there - nonetheless Best Man - should have been exceedingly obvious. She brushed her skirt as if there were specks of anything there to dirty it.

Standing, she moved to rest her chin on Keiran's shoulder as she smiled up at Robin. Her hands rested on his upper arms, giving him a squeeze. "Hey, you. Long time, no see."

All things considered, their last encounter had been quite alright. Sure, things had been rather awful at parts, but they mostly got on well. Lunch was better than the walk there, and she had been far too pleased when he asked her to keep on and have a tour of Dublin. Perhaps it had been the weather putting her in such a good mood. She rather doubted it. Avery knew it had been the man standing in the doorway who had affected her so much.

She turned to Keiran and brushed his hair back into a semblance of a proper hairdo for the groom at a wedding. "Get ready." She told him, pointing towards the table a short ways away.

"Yes, mum." He rolled his eyes, purposefully shaking his head so the hair returned to its original position.

With her back to Robin, she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at Keiran, who didn't look even partly guilty under her stern gaze. "You really should try to look as nice as Millie will. We've been over this." Avery didn't understand why he was being so casual about this. He didn't get to do the wedding thing twice. Not with this scenario. Not with the law.

Avery's eyes fell to the floor and she hugged her arms around herself even closer as she moved to sit in a chair facing Keiran. Would this be her lot in life in a few weeks? When would she meet the man she was required to be with for the rest of forever? Not that it mattered when, so much as who. Avery could only hope she knew the man or got on with him. Granted, even if they didn't get on perfectly, there was no getting out of it. She had no option, opinion worth worrying about, or say in it after all.

As charming and dainty as Robin Ivanov’s bachelor pad was, weeks had filtered by through Cordella’s fingers and she needed a purpose. Sitting in his arm chair brooding, glaring out into the world through the thin panes of glass, was not the way she knew she was supposed to spend her time. She had a new pseudo identity. She’d forgone the Polyjuice a few weeks before and settled on using charms which appeared in Witch Weekly and other helpful volumes which she never would have consulted prior to her incarceration. If she was to be brutally honest with herself, she didn’t care much for them now but the spells were vital. They kept them both safe. As long as the Ministry didn’t know how and where to find her, Robin would avoid Azkaban and, most importantly, so would she.

The journey north to Hogsmeade from the comfort of London was not Cordella’s idea of fun and while Robin hadn’t been looking she made sure to lay plenty of glares into the back of his head. Of course, it was something that was unavoidable, if not bizarrely irritating for the very reason they were using locomotives. Still, she could not begrudge him of fears. She of all people knew what it was like to live in fear. However ridiculous a fear of Apparation seemed and felt when it was stood beside her own paralysis in times of terror she knew it was still a fear and not something to be sniffed at so derisively; he had his reasons and so did she.

Arrival was a touch easier and Cordella’s mood had abated somewhat, springing from irritated to nervous to placidly bemused. She supposed she was there for the benefit of the groom - not that she knew the groom. Millie she had worked with during a Potions project once in their fifth year but no time other than that so they could never be considered friends. Knowing she was around friends, even though they weren’t necessarily hers exclusively, did make Cordella rest a little easier in her newfound skin.

Robin slipped away, as ever, and Cordella found herself stood amongst Finnigans and odds and todds from what she assumed was the Hayes side. Not that they weren’t kindly enough and nice to look at but Cordella didn’t believe, honestly, that she could be left to her own devices. She was surprised Robin thought her tame enough to be left. Still, with no wand she was ineffective and though her eyes spied the carved wood sticking out of pockets, bags and behind ears she knew that there was no time for a wicked man hunt.

Elijah Krum. Jude Shaw. Katrina-Carlotta Du Hunt. Darius Quinn. Persephone Quinn. Elria Quinn. She’d have them all. Eventually.

Sighing minutely, Cordella wiped a smile across her features and tossed her eyes around the room, wondering but not quite allowing herself to entertain the idea of seeing someone she knew. Someone particular: Gisele.

For what it was worth, this wedding had come at the right time. Gisele needed a day to escape from the confines of the castle and see the, admittedly small, outside world. She had skipped the first Hogsmede weekend and this was the first chance since for her to get out and about. While cabin fever normally didn't get to her until around Febuary, Hogwarts without Della was unbearably small. There was no break from reminders of her - places, people, even classes. Gisele had never realized how intergraded her girlfriend was in her daily routine.

Gisele sat in front of her vanity, applying the last touches on her hair and makeup with glamour charms. She sucked on a mint to counter the taste pepper-up potion had left in her mouth. The vial it had been in lay empty on her bedside table, ready to be refilled. Gisele had never suffered from an addictive personality but lately she had found the need for chemical assistance for her mood. Her housemates were more than capable and willing to experiment with new brews for a smile and a sickle.

Katarina sat on Gisele's bunk and she could see her reflection in the large mirror. The other girl was already dressed and ready, her hair pulled up with a flowered clip and falling over her shoulders in a pleasing way. Gisele took much longer to get herself put together but so far Katarina hadn't shown too many signs on irritation. The girls made eye contact and Gisele flashed her a smile, feeling the effects of the potion flowing through her veins. "Only five more minutes, I promise."

Katarina didn't want to go. She had heard all about Millie, attended Millie's parties, and been introduced to Millie, but she still felt as if the girl was a complete stranger. The Gryffindor had never spoken more than two words at a time to her and Katarina had always felt more or less invisible in their group. She had refused attending the wedding at first because of the circumstances it was occurring under but with every pout from Gisele her guilt had grown.

Once she had accepted the invitation, Kat had started to gradually feel better about the event ahead. It felt surprisingly good to have a chance to wear her new blue dress and a reason to shave her legs. She also hoped that spending the day with Gisele would be good for them. Their dorm had always gotten along amazingly well but over the last year there had been a strong undercurrent of tension that Kat couldn't really figure out. She liked spending time with Gisele, she really did, there was just a wall between the two girls. There always had been.

- - -

The pair arrived in Hogsmede at about the right time. Wedding guests were milling around the yard and the barn where the ceremony was going to take place. Gisele recognized a good number of the guests - both the Hogwarts students and Millie's family were familiar to her. She greeted many as she passed, cheerfully exchanging a few pleasantries about the weather, the couple, or the fashions around them. Katarina looked uncomfortable during all of these encounters, clearly searching for familiar faces.

Gisele dearly wanted to see the bride but knew that was an event that would have to wait until much later in the evening. She would be getting ready now and even if she wasn't, Gisele was far from the top of the list of important people on a day like today. The old friends hadn't really spoken in over a year and while Gisele still quietly considered Millie her best friend, she knew this was no longer the case. The two had been at school together for almost two months now and neither had initiated any sort of real conversation. Their time was past it's peak.

Gisele was talking to an old man in dress robes about his work with Somalian water dragons and Katarina decided it was time to go for a walk. She offered to get Gisele something to drink, which the brunette declined, and then moved towards the barn. Once inside she found the bar, got a water, and found an empty bench to perch on. At least until Gisele found someone new to talk to. Kat's head rested again the wall and she looked out at the forming crowd. She shouldn't let herself get talked into these things.

Outside, Gisele listened to the man ramble on and she quickly lost all focus, blocking out everything he was saying and letting her mind wander. Gisele smiled and nodded, keeping eye contact with pretend attentiveness, desperately waiting for him to take a breath so she could excuse herself to find her date and leave him. While the charms of a veela were often beneficial they could also prove problematic by attractive less than desirable company.

Robin looked up to see Avery approaching behind Keiran. He immediately felt foolish for not really considering that she would be here. She was Keiran's best mate. Obviously she would be attending his wedding. "Indeed. Good to see you again."

The attention was moved away from Robin's arrival as Avery fussed over Keiran. The interaction was somewhat amazing for Robin to watch - he had never seen his friend allow himself to be so watched over and taken care of. Even in his reluctance, Robin could see little resistance to her efforts to make him up like a doll. It still baffled the younger man that he should have known Keiran for so long and never had been introduced to a girl who was so clearly dear to him. He must have been deliberately hiding her. And for obviously reasons.

"Any chance I'll be meeting this young lady before the ceremony?" Robin asked Keiran. Part of him had hoped he might actually see Keiran's bride-to-be before she was at the end of the aisle but his tardiness and the separate dressing rooms were making that increasingly unlikely. This whole situation was so wrong.. Marrying a girl that his best man didn't even know? That wasn't a real wedding. But alas, the law was the law and Robin knew better than to question the decrees of Elijah Krum.

Though his relation to the Deputy Minister hadn't stopped him from making nasty comments about the Ministry at the pub, it did leave him with a touch of guilt. Elijah was, and had always been, a good friend. He had made an idiotic decision with this turn of Ministry policy, yes, but that didn't change the fact that he was a good man. Well, maybe not good. But fun to be around at the very least.

Robin looked to Avery's back, noticing that gorgeous red dress that hugged her body in just about every place. It really would be a wonder if she didn't distract from the bride herself.

He moved into the room, taking a seat on one of the many chairs that had been provided. "Or anything else I should do to make myself useful?"

Avery watched the floor and tuned out the boys, pushing her fear away and tugging on one of her curls. Her attention was drawn after only a short moment when Robin asked what he should be up to.

"Tell you what, mate," Keiran began, adjusting his tie, "Go make sure the poor girl is still out there." He winked at Avery, making her grin. "Send my mum in, would you? She'll want to talk." His second statement was directed at Avery so she stood and nodded.

"Of course she will. It's the mother's job, isn't it?" She teased, head tilted to the side in amusement. Would she be doing something like this down the road? The law made sure she would, Avery figured.

Keiran stepped towards her and reached up to take her wrist and lower it. She instantly released the hair she had been pulling. "Don't mess up your hair. You'll be angry later if you do." His eyes held a vast amount of uncertainty in all of his actions, making her want to hug him. She didn't think he would get much out of it if she did, though. He had seemed numb all day the day before, when she had taken him out to see how he was doing.

Avery rolled her eyes, knowing he was right, but clasped her hands behind her back. "Of course." Moving to Robin's side, she gestured towards the door. "Shall we go get things moving? At this rate, it won't start on time." She smiled up at him before, as subtly as she could, looking him over. It didn't seem to matter what Robin wore; he always somehow looked put together and basically wonderful.

"Yes," Keiran said quickly, "let's not make anyone wait around. Tell me when she's ready..."

His last sentence held more nerves than he cared to admit, she noted. He obviously wasn't sure the girl ever would be ready. Avery caught his gaze with a serious raise of her eyebrow. He needed to accept that it was happening, Melissa couldn't change it, and neither could he.

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue and a silver sixpence in your shoe.”

The cool metal of a chain draped itself around Millie’s throat, the clasped brought together at the nape of her neck by the careful hands of her great-grandmother with whom she shared her forename. Those sure, familiar hands settled on her shoulders as Melissa knelt down, bringing her face alongside Millie’s, her cool cheek brushing against the latter’s far warmer one. One her other side, her grandmother, Jane, knelt and above her, Lavender stood, a small, sad smile on her lips. A flash exclaimed wildly behind them and Millie raised her eyes in the mirror to see her brother lingering in the doorway, his hair askew, a cigarette behind his ear and the camera loose in his hands. His tie was pulled down, his shirt untucked, and though he was a mess he had never looked more in that moment like her brother. He was whole again at her expense and, despite herself, she felt, too, that perhaps her heart was healing.

“Four generations,” he crooned, smudging his lips together fondly as he looked at the screen. Lavender crossed the room, murmuring her request to see, and Millie watched as her mother leant around Elliot, her curls spilling onto his shoulder as their heads found each other in the way they used to when he’d been younger, his penchant for hate less. For a moment, they were a family again and as Elliot’s arm looped around his mother’s waist, for all the world Millie wanted to believe it. But it was so fragile. Their lives were all so fragile and prone to cracking, breaking and wasting away. She wanted nothing more than for them to be together again, all of them but their lives were unpredictable and tumultuous. She couldn’t account for the harsh tempers and barbed words nor their manner of walking away from what affronted and scared them.

“You look beautiful, pet.” Jane whispered with a broad smile, as though it was some great conspiracy that she had concocted. It was, truly. For, all efforts on the wedding day went into making the bride feel beautiful and her groom feel like he was the luckiest man on the world. Millie couldn’t help herself. She desperately wanted Keiran to look at her and think anything but ‘oh Merlin, what’ve the Ministry done.’ She wanted him to at least acknowledge she wasn’t a troll, even if it was internally, and it wouldn’t be so dreadful to be married to her. She didn’t expect a great show of surprise but anything other than revulsion suited her down to the ground.

“The vicar’s bobbing around talking to Aunt Lousia,” Elliot informed them glibly. “No clue where Maxi is, yet, but I reckon most everyone is here. It’s time to start.”

“You’re joking.” The words were out of Millie’s mouth before she could stop herself and her hands slammed down on the bureau, her fingers curling around the edge and gripping fast to the piece of furniture. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s not fashionable to be late to your own wedding,” Elliot sang, tucking his shirt into his trousers as Lavender straightened his tie, tutting over his hair.

“No,” Millie released the bureau and sighed, flexing her fingers, determined not to ruin the make-up or the hair her mother had toiled over. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

“It’s alright to be nervous, sweetheart.” Melissa murmured, lifting her hand from Millie’s shoulder and helping her to her feet.

Millie’s hair was curled nonsensically, a teased and perfected mess which all rested on one shoulder. Pearl grips were dotted here and there and her mother even managed to wrangle in a small tiara that largely went unnoticed. Her earrings were orange teardrops which wiggled with every movement. Her shoes matched and the flowers that her brother held out to her were pumpkin coloured sunflowers which exemplified the autumn theme. She cast a furtive look in the direction of her mother and carefully looped her arm around Elliot’s. He covered her hand with his own and smiled, patting it gently before looking over at the women still lingering in the room, gesturing with the flick of his chin for them to leave.

“Good luck, my baby,” Lavender whispered brightly, blowing a kiss before pulling the door to behind them.

“What if I trip and fall on my face?” Millie asked as soon as the door fell to a close, looking up at her brother hesitantly.

“Then I’ll laugh and scoop you back up again and give you away and it’ll be Kieran’s responsibility to stop you from tripping up.” He replied smoothly.

“Ell-”

“Mills, I’m not going to let you fall. Give me that much credit. I’ve got you. It’s going to be fine. Trust the process.”

“How?”

“Just, go with it.” He grinned. “And I’ll let you smoke this after the reception.” He took the cigarette out from behind his ear briefly before chuckling and dropping it into his blazer pocket. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “We’d better get this show on the road.”

Keiran looked up from his surprisingly shiny shoes and met Avery's eyes from her seat in the front row. She winked at him and grinned, making him smile. There were only minutes to go and he could feel himself start to shift his weight awkwardly. He almost wished Robin would make some awful joke to take the edge off, but knew that wouldn't go over well.

Keiran's eyebrow raised subtly as Avery's eyes flitted to Robin and she smirked at his best mate. How odd. What exactly had happened there? Keiran hadn't heard anything from his mate about the bet, so he figured it wasn't like anything huge had happened yet. But it was still weird that Avery was looking at Robin like she just wanted to walk up and kiss him. What was it about weddings?

Keiran turned his head to glance behind him at Robin, curious as to what the man's reaction would be. Before he could figure what emotion was flicking across Robin's face, everyone started standing up, and his attention was drawn to the far end of the barn.

Melissa stood there in her dress, and he suddenly wondered if perhaps the girl was even more than she seemed. So far, he had found her to be somewhat headstrong, entirely entertaining, and yet at the same time broken in a way that he completely understood.

Her eyes met his and he could practically feel jokes being thrown at him by Robin. Was it entirely ridiculous for him to admit that he had been holding his breath since she locked eyes with him? Because he had been. And since when had he been smiling at her? Keiran chalked it up to his need to have her feel comfortable. Merlin knew the Transfiguration Professor wasn't going to be pushing her in any way - even in the presence of others, he wouldn't hold onto her if she didn't seem okay with it. He had no idea what she expected. They really should have talked about this.

Blinking hard, he pushed away thoughts about later and focused on the now. He spared a momentary glance away from her face and to those around them. Most everyone was smiling - some almost sadly - and Avery was watching him, giving him a reassuring nod at his look in her direction. This would be okay. Maybe the Ministry had gotten something right, with the two of them.