Champions

Moments in time

The reception took place in Fleur's favorite glen on the far side of the pavilion. She had no doubt that her parents had chosen it for just that reason, and she was very pleased. It was her favorite place to play as a child, and as she grew older, she often came here to escape and find peace.

The ancient oak trees surrounding it were decorated with colorful streamers, and she swore she saw a fairy or two flitting amongst the branches, which meant that it would be quite a display come nightfall. A buffet table stood at one end, piled high with snacks and refreshments, and a portable dance floor dominated the other. In between were numerous tables, all draped with fine white linens.

Having finally escaped the requisite encounters with the more prominent guests – including the French Minister of Magic himself – Fleur was now listening to Hermione yammer on about her wedding ring. Unlike Muggle weddings, the rings were not purchased and exchanged by the bride and groom; instead, they were summoned by the bonding magic. Hers was a delicate platinum band topped with a tastefully understated diamond, and it was giving the girl fits at the moment.

"But that's impossible!" she burst. "Gamp's Third Law clearly states that you can't conjure precious metals or gems!"

Her parents stood on either side of her, and looked highly amused by her reaction. Given the number of questions that they themselves had asked about the ceremony, it was obvious where she had come by her personality. This amused Fleur to no end.

"It is one of ze greatest mysteries of magic, 'ermione," she told her patiently. "Zere are many theories, but it 'as never been explained."

"Maybe they're not conjured," put in Neville unexpectedly from somewhere behind her, startling her and making her jump. "They could be translocated from somewhere or something."

Fleur flashed him a smile as he passed and shrugged noncommittally. Predictably, Hermione latched onto the theory and launched into a highly technical discussion with him as he took up a position by her side. Though he probably did not understand even half of it, he endured it patiently; he clearly loved the girl.

She soon tuned them out, however. Harry had gone off to get drinks some time ago and had yet to return, and she was starting to worry. Though he had not uttered a single word of complaint, she was well aware that the first two hours of the reception had been exceedingly difficult for him; he hated attention of any kind, and on this occasion he was receiving it in spades.

But as she scanned the crowd, her attention was caught by someone else.

Ginny Weasley sat sullenly at a nearby table, shooting her a dark glare. This was not the first time she had noticed it; the girl had been doing it ever since the ceremony. She had no idea what she might have done to deserve it, but Ginny was clearly angry with her for some reason.

"Why is she looking at me like zat?" she wondered, interrupting the conversation.

"Who?" frowned Hermione. Then she followed Fleur's gaze and groaned. "Oh boy," she sighed.

Fleur turned away from the obviously angry redhead and gave Hermione her full attention. "Did I do somezing to offend 'er?" she asked bluntly.

"Yeah," snorted Neville. "You married Harry."

Fleur blinked bemusedly.

"Uh oh," chuckled Hermione's father. "I think someone has a little crush!"

His wife and daughter whacked him lightly on either arm in silent rebuke for the comment, but then Hermione confirmed it. "He's right," she nodded, throwing him a darkly amused look. "She grew up on stories about him, and swore she would marry him someday."