Growing up Pureblooded

A Black Wedding

The ceremony was simply splendid. Druella's enchanted flower arrangements made the ancient stone church appear to come alive, as though Eden had burst forth in the centre of London. Flowers wrapped around every column and adorned every pew, and there was a magnificent arrangement on the high altar as well.

All of wizarding Britain's most notable witches and wizards were present to observe the union, from the Minister for Magic to the entire board of St Mungo's. Remarkably well-preserved dowagers and dapper young playboys sat side-by-side, recounting in loud whispers all the gossip they knew about the couple.
Some of the guests had known both bride and groom since they were small children, whilst others had never met them personally. Some, such as Hortensia Selwyn, were long-time friends and allies of the Black family, whilst others, such as Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, were family foes of equally long standing, who had only received invitations because their position in society made it impossible for things to be otherwise.

In the front of the church stood the groom, dressed in magnificent robes of midnight blue velvet, embroidered in gold and fastened with a sapphire clasp. His dark hair was pulled behind his head with a simple black ribbon. Samantha Smith, the reporter from Witch Weekly, furiously jotted down notes for her article on a scrap of parchment. No one knew it yet, but the editors of Witch Weekly had recently voted to declare the dashing, dangerous young wizard "the Sexiest Wizard of 1993".
Extensive coverage of his opulent wedding to Wands and Cauldrons' Loveliest Witch of 1979, 1984 and 1987 was bound to generate record sales. It also didn't hurt that Sirius Black had topped Goldfist Financial's annual listing of the wealthiest wizards in Britain the year before.

Beside the groom stood his best man, Professor Remus Lupin, Transfiguration Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Witch Weekly's reporter had very little to say about him, since to her knowledge he had never made any listing of wealthy wizards or been voted one of the beautiful people. In fact, Ms Smith wondered why a grand person like Mr Black would give such an honour to a wizard who looked both skeletally thin and perhaps even a bit ill. His robes, at least, were quite lovely, a perfect complement to Mr Black's own, though Lupin looked a bit uncomfortable wearing them.
Ms Smith decided to write that he was rugged and dangerous-looking. That would help the image her editors wanted to create for Mr Black better than saying he was emaciated and seemed to be deathly ill. If Ms Smith hadn't known it to be utterly impossible, she would have guessed he was a werewolf. Her Uncle Algernon had looked much the same way, especially in the days following a full moon. But no one would ever believe that a half-breed and Dark Creature could be made best man at the pureblood social event of the decade. Not in a million years.

The orchestra and organ launched into the stirring strains of Handel's "Zadok the Priest". Ms Smith was impressed by the choice. The selection of the eighteenth-century Squib composer was daring and provocative enough to set a fashion trend, yet not so outlandish as to raise the hackles of the traditionalists. Of course, any couple with less impeccable a pedigree than the Blacks – which, if Ms Smith was to be honest, included most everyone, except possibly the Malfoys and the Lestranges, though it was hard to trace those French families back before the Conquest – would never have been able to pull it off. The reporter dashed off another couple of notes. She suspected there would be a sudden upswing in the demand for music by Squib composers who had worked in the courts of Muggle sovereigns, of whom there were actually a good number.

The boys' choir launched into the anthem, the massive oak doors of the church swung open, and the congregation rose to their feet. Narcissa Black was a vision of cold majesty, dressed in a gown that appeared to have been woven entirely from silver thread. She wore a choker made up of three strings of pearls, and her long blonde hair was swept up on top of her head and held in place with a magnificent emerald-encrusted tiara fashioned out of goblin-wrought silver. A lace veil flowed from her tiara down her back, whilst her cathedral-length train was carried by real fairies. The reporter was certain that they had been placed under the Imperius Curse. They were far too docile.

The bride's sister, Andromeda Tonks, served as the matron of honour, which the reporter made careful note of. She had been under the impression that the sisters were estranged. But even more fascinating was the distinguished wizard who accompanied the bride down the aisle: her erstwhile father-in-law, Abraxas Malfoy. It was actually rather touching – the Head of the House of Malfoy returning his widowed daughter-in-law to the Head of the House of Black – if slightly medieval even by the most traditional of standards. Ms Smith found herself devoutly wishing she could see the terms of the marriage contract, especially since there was a rumour that Draco Malfoy, the son of the bride and the late Malfoy heir, was to be adopted by his new stepfather.
The inheritance issues would no doubt make fascinating reading for the subscribers of Witch Weekly, especially since the Black heir was already quite a wealthy wizard in his own right, having been the sole heir of his late Squib great-uncle. In fact, rumour had it that the home in which the new couple were expected to take up residence actually belonged to Aries Black.

The bride reached the end of the aisle, and old Malfoy placed her hand in the bridegroom's before the couple ascended the stone steps together and knelt before the superb high altar. The stirring music drew to a close and the vicar addressed the congregation in a high, reedy voice, that nonetheless managed to fill the church easily. Ms Smith wondered if he had used a Sonorous Charm.

"Dearly beloved," he began, "we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocency..."

The service was the classical one, in all its dignity and splendour. Both bride and groom managed to make their vows clearly and audibly , the bride vowing 'to love, cherish, and to obey' the groom, and the remaining music was perfectly executed, if much more traditional than the rather innovative processional.
After the final benediction, when the new Mr and Mrs Black exited the church to the exultant strains of the organ, haughty expressions of triumph on their aristocratic faces, Ms Smith thought that it had been the perfect pureblood wedding: formal, majestic, beautiful and trend-setting, and, most importantly, revealing less than nothing about the personalities of the bride and groom.
The readers of Witch Weekly would know nothing more about the relationship between the couple than they did the week before: that they were both rich, powerful, very pretty – and far too good ever to talk to the readers of Witch Weekly. At least the photographs would be nice. The reporter thought that there would certainly be a vast increase in the demand for old-fashioned weddings. She chuckled. And just last year the dowagers had been lamenting the death of tradition!