"Mother-In-Law", Harry Potter (other), G, Angelina/George.
Title: Mother-In-Law
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G.
Length: About 2440 words.
Characters/Pairings: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, other canon characters.
Spoilers: All the books, and some tidbits from Jo Rowling interviews.
Summary: George pops the question and Angelina accepts. But when Molly gets involved in the wedding planning, Angelina learns she's gaining more than just a spouse.
Notes: Written for random00b for help_pakistan. Big thanks to
tsuxavier and nvwrdsmth for their beta help, and
assassin for her cheerleading. Read also on DW and AO3, and read author's notes here.
Mother-In-Law
"Last one to the top's a rotten Mandrake!"
Angelina grinned and kicked her Cleansweep into the air. It couldn't touch George's Nimbus, and she wasn't interested in trying, but she leaned forward and found the air currents, just like she had in school. Soon, her toes were skimming the tops of the trees, and George was looping around her head.
"I need to fly more," she said, inhaling. The Burrow's air was fresh and clear and altogether nothing like the smoggy skies of London. Even though the cold and rain seeped through her robes with each blow of the breeze, it felt amazing. "I'm surprised my broom hasn't stopped flying entirely."
George navigated down to Angelina's level and placed the end of the broomstick between his knees. He wobbled as he extended his arms, but grinned as he floated hands-free, turning in circles using only his knees to steer.
"Show-off," Angelina said.
He opened his mouth the slightest bit and paused, and Angelina bit the inside of her lip. It still happened sometimes, that little stop in time while he waited for someone else to speak, to set up or finish his jokes. At least she was used to it now.
George coughed and covered his mouth. As he did, an umbrella extended out of the tip of his wand, and Angelina flew underneath, glad for a break in the weather. George held out his other hand, uncurled his fingers, and revealed a box.
Angelina eyed it suspiciously. "What's this?"
The top of the box creaked up on its own. A string-produced melody floated out, and a diamond on top of a gold ring sat inside.
"Blimey," Angelina said. "Is this the goblin jewelry your aunt goes on about?"
George smirked. "I bought this with my ill-gotten gains. You like it?"
She did, and she nodded.
"Are you willing to put up with me, and my family?"
"I have to put up with them?"
"I've heard Antarctica's great this time of year."
Angelina gave a mock sigh and swept her braids over her shoulder. "If you say so."
"That a yes?"
"Yes, you silly git."
George grabbed her in a big bear hug. Angelina adjusted her broomstick so she wouldn't topple over, and hugged him back, laughing.
As he put on the ring, he said, waggling his eyebrows, "I wasn't kidding about the family, you know."
"You mean you weren't kidding about Molly." George's mom's name was odd on her tongue, but she'd have to get used to it now. "Don't worry. I can handle her."
-
"You should check on the invitations, George," Molly was saying as she marched up Diagon Alley. "The shop said they'd be ready before we left, and someone needs to make sure they're out. And that the date's correct, since they sent them out wrong for Ginny's wedding. It should say--"
"September 18, 2004," George said, in a near perfect imitation of his mom’s voice. She glared, and he smiled innocently, switching back to his usual voice. "Angie and I picked the date, Mom. No one wiped our memories."
Molly ignored him. "Arthur, get us a table at the Leaky Cauldron; we'll want to eat before long, and it's almost lunch. And you come with me, Angelina."
"But I can go with--"
"I need your advice on something, dear."
She shot George a helpless look, and he gave her a sympathetic leer before ducking off in the last wisps of fog that lingered. She could hardly blame him. They'd been engaged for a month and a half, and somehow, George's mom had managed to contact Angelina every single day between March the sixth and April 24th.
With a hefty sigh, she slumped after Molly, but they stopped before long in front of Madam Malkin's.
"Here we are!" Molly stepped inside.
Angelina stepped inside after her, where she already speaking with Madam Malkin, who was clad in a green robe.
"--future daughter-in-law needs a robe for her wedding."
"Molly," Angelina said, in a rush, "I already have an appointment for a dress shop."
"Nonsense. We're here, aren't we? And George is definitely out of your hair." She turned back to Madam Malkin's. “Your finest white. Or maybe cream?”
Angelina realized when she was fighting a lost cause, and stepped on a platform. Madam Malkin pulled out a bolt of white fabric, but Angelina, with a spark of inspiration, asked, "Do you have anything in violet?"
Molly opened her mouth to speak, but Madam Malkin nodded and ducked into the back.
"We're getting married in George’s shop, after all," Angelina said, admiring herself in a floor-length mirror. "Doesn't make sense to go traditional, does it?"
"Whatever you like," Molly said in an even tone.
Angelina could feel Molly’s eyes on her like the strongest curse she could find. But as Madam Malkin brought out a shimmering robe with charming ruffles, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
-
Molly's head glowed green in the fireplace as she spoke. "I got in touch with the caterer again, but I can't imagine they'll pick up the slack. So we're going with the fellow I know, and he's promised to work with all speed."
"Thank you, Molly," Angelina said, weary. "I'll make note of it."
A hand touched her shoulder. "Mum, we're visiting. Can't this wait until the weekend?"
"Hardly, George! We only have a month, and this needs to be settled!"
Ginny stepped up to Angelina's side. From this angle, Angelina could see Ginny's just-protruding stomach much easier. "Mom, please. Angelina had to work all day."
"It's okay," Angelina said.
Molly's look became fond. "Of course. I'll talk to you again on Saturday, dear."
"Good night," Ginny said.
"Take care of yourself, Ginny. And give my love to the rest."
Molly disappeared, and Angelina sagged in her chair. Harry stepped in the room with a Firewhiskey, and Angelina accepted it gratefully.
"I thought she'd pay more attention to you lot now," she said, as Harry and Ginny took their seats. "Aren't babies bigger than weddings?"
"Oh, she will," Ron said, as he walked inside. "But your wedding's first."
"Why," Angelina said to George, as he sat on the arm of Angelina's chair, "isn't she pestering you? You could take a few of these questions."
"Yes, George," Hermione said primly. "It's your wedding, too."
George sniffed and grabbed his lapels. "I'm an important businessman. Loads to do."
"Right." Ron rolled his eyes. "If by 'important businessman', you mean, 'too busy faffing around with Levitation Lollies so you have an excuse not to talk to Mum'."
"Either or," George said, showing teeth.
"When's your leave?" Harry asked Angelina. "Soon?"
"Not soon enough," Angelina said. "We've got the kickoff of the Quidditch season to finish."
"You still going to Romania on your honeymoon?" Ginny asked.
George nodded. "Charlie gave us some recommendations. Sounded like fun."
"If by 'fun', you mean, 'we get to play with dragons'," Angelina said.
George flashed her a smile, and despite her exhaustion, a bit of giddiness caught up with her.
-
Even for the rehearsal, the floor of Weasley Wizard Wheezes was clear. Many of the wall adornments were gone as well, and various family members from both sides were waving decorations up, but one thing remained untouched: the memorial portrait of Fred Weasley. Angelina, like she always did, gave it a small wave. The picture of Fred, like he always did, smoothed his hair and waggled his eyebrows in her direction.
“Took you long enough.”
“Hullo, you,” she said as George walked up and kissed her temple. She squeezed his arm.
He whispered in her ear. Unfortunately, it was neither exciting nor romantic. “Mum’s on a roll tonight. Duck and cover.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
“--need to practice the lineup, where in Merlin’s name is...Angelina!”
Angelina turned and pasted on a fake smile. She figured she’d use it quite a bit in the next day; she just hoped it didn't look as phony as it felt. “Molly. Hi.”
“The bridesmaids and groomsmen are already lined up! We need to practice coming in and going out!”
“We didn't--” Angelina began, but Molly started pushing her toward the back of the room. Ron and Lee Jordan, the latter in shiny black robes with pinstripes, hovered on one side, and Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet slouched on the other side. George started over to his attendants, but when he caught the look on Angelina’s face, he stopped in place and spun on his heel.
“Mom,” he said, “Angie and I don’t want to walk in lineups. We want our people there, and we want to walk in together.”
Molly’s face tightened. “What?”
“I tried to tell you,” Angelina said. Her voice was dry. “George and I made plans months ago. But you never stopped long enough to listen.”
The Weasleys in the area flinched. Molly raised an eyebrow and said, “You must not have tried hard enough.”
“Oh no. You tried hard enough for the both of us, didn't you?” She turned to George. “I think you can practice without me. I'll be in the back.”
And with that, she stormed off, and refused to leave until Molly had left for the evening.
-
Ginny poked her head in the room as Katie waved her wand, and the last portion of Angelina’s robes slipped into place. “Hi. Mind if I come in?”
The bulb on the photographer’s camera went off. Angelina resisted the urge to rub her eyes for the hundredth time. “Not at all.”
“I was just hoping we could talk,” Ginny said as she walked inside.
She started to close the door, but Alicia caught it and said, “Actually, we’ll wait out here. We have to leave for the shop in a minute anyway.”
Katie lingered until Alicia elbowed her in the side, and they both bowed out, their light-violet robes flaring out behind them as they exited. The photographer, an old wizard with a beard to his feet, caught the door and left as well.
“Is this about your mom?” Angelina said, admiring herself in the mirror. Her robes looked lovely, as did the matching ribbons and beads she’d had weaved into her braids. “Because I’m not sorry. I'm only sorry I didn't say it months ago.”
Ginny sat on a chair by the mirror. “I should've warned you. She was a fright during my wedding. We went at it for about a year, and had a row about two minutes before I walked down the aisle.”
Angelina chuckled. She’d been there with George, at the Burrow; the guests had been outside, but everyone could hear Ginny and Molly’s raised voices coming all the way from the house. But Harry and Ginny had looked pleased with everything, once it had played out, and no one had said a word about it after.
“I should've known, I guess,” Angelina said. “I was there. I just figured...”
“That we’re related, and we both have the same temper?”
“Something like that.”
“You should've been around for Ron and Hermione. Or for Fleur. Wasn't that a treat.” Ginny reached a hand forward. “Don’t tell Mom I said this, but...it’s her way of welcoming you to the family. Don’t be too hard on her.”
Angelina snorted quietly. “I suppose.”
“Besides,” Ginny said, “she’ll start up with George before too long. He never stays in her good graces.”
-
George was waiting for her in the back of the shop in his dress robes. He’d opted for something more subtle than Angelina; it looked like a Muggle suit and tie, with a bit more flair to it. He also had a top hat, and the band on the hat and the color of the tie matched her frilly purple dress.
“I’m glad you left last night,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “It gave me a chance to go a little wild.”
Angelina grinned in a completely genuine manner. It was so wide, it hurt. “Just a little?”
A funereal dirge started playing, and Angelina schooled her face to solemnity.
“Welcome to the end,” she said, and they stepped outside.
There were seats all along the aisle, twisting to the front of the shop. No one was sitting, however; various peers were standing directly next to the aisle, wearing different Quidditch uniforms and hefting brooms. Over their heads, a game of Quidditch appeared to be in-progress; it was only four people, so there weren't Beaters or Seekers, but there were two Chasers, Charlie and Ginny Weasley, and two Keepers, Oliver Wood and Dean Thomas.
Angelina laughed. She couldn't help it; it was all too brilliant. But she felt her smile die as she brought her gaze to the floor, where Molly was patently not looking at her. But then, she sort of looked as if she were giving an evil eye to George, who tipped the brim of his hat when he passed by.
At the end of the aisle stood a human-sized canary. As Angelina and George stepped up to it, the feathers fell to the floor and revealed Harry Potter, who grinned at them both, green eyes twinkling. The dirge cut off, and the players of the game brought their brooms to the floor. Ginny winked at Angelina, wiping sweat from her forehead.
“You,” Angelina whispered to George, “couldn't match concepts if your life depended on it, could you?”
George shrugged. “My clothes match.”
Harry spit a feather out of his mouth. “Please, everyone take your seats.”
The Quidditch honor guard split, and the rest of the guests filed to their seats. Angelina, in a flash of inspiration, darted to Molly before she sat, and took her hands.
“Wait a sec,” she said. “Just watch.”
She returned to the altar area just as the majority of the guests lowered themselves onto their cushions. The older guests remained seated; it was the compromise George and Angelina had struck. But the rest vaulted several feet into the air and hovered. Many of them laughed. Arthur spun in place, clapping his hands as he did so. Hermione looked amused, but a little flustered as her hair floated around her. Angelina’s own parents were holding out their arms for stability and trying to stay upright.
Molly remained standing. She took in the room, and prepared her best glare for George. But she looked over to Angelina, and gave her a small nod, and Angelina nodded back.
“Now that we have your attention,” Harry said, “please be seated.”
Everyone floated down into their seats. Angelina took George’s hands and matched his smile.
She was ready to get married.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G.
Length: About 2440 words.
Characters/Pairings: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, other canon characters.
Spoilers: All the books, and some tidbits from Jo Rowling interviews.
Summary: George pops the question and Angelina accepts. But when Molly gets involved in the wedding planning, Angelina learns she's gaining more than just a spouse.
Notes: Written for random00b for help_pakistan. Big thanks to
tsuxavier and nvwrdsmth for their beta help, and
assassin for her cheerleading. Read also on DW and AO3, and read author's notes here.
Mother-In-Law
"Last one to the top's a rotten Mandrake!"
Angelina grinned and kicked her Cleansweep into the air. It couldn't touch George's Nimbus, and she wasn't interested in trying, but she leaned forward and found the air currents, just like she had in school. Soon, her toes were skimming the tops of the trees, and George was looping around her head.
"I need to fly more," she said, inhaling. The Burrow's air was fresh and clear and altogether nothing like the smoggy skies of London. Even though the cold and rain seeped through her robes with each blow of the breeze, it felt amazing. "I'm surprised my broom hasn't stopped flying entirely."
George navigated down to Angelina's level and placed the end of the broomstick between his knees. He wobbled as he extended his arms, but grinned as he floated hands-free, turning in circles using only his knees to steer.
"Show-off," Angelina said.
He opened his mouth the slightest bit and paused, and Angelina bit the inside of her lip. It still happened sometimes, that little stop in time while he waited for someone else to speak, to set up or finish his jokes. At least she was used to it now.
George coughed and covered his mouth. As he did, an umbrella extended out of the tip of his wand, and Angelina flew underneath, glad for a break in the weather. George held out his other hand, uncurled his fingers, and revealed a box.
Angelina eyed it suspiciously. "What's this?"
The top of the box creaked up on its own. A string-produced melody floated out, and a diamond on top of a gold ring sat inside.
"Blimey," Angelina said. "Is this the goblin jewelry your aunt goes on about?"
George smirked. "I bought this with my ill-gotten gains. You like it?"
She did, and she nodded.
"Are you willing to put up with me, and my family?"
"I have to put up with them?"
"I've heard Antarctica's great this time of year."
Angelina gave a mock sigh and swept her braids over her shoulder. "If you say so."
"That a yes?"
"Yes, you silly git."
George grabbed her in a big bear hug. Angelina adjusted her broomstick so she wouldn't topple over, and hugged him back, laughing.
As he put on the ring, he said, waggling his eyebrows, "I wasn't kidding about the family, you know."
"You mean you weren't kidding about Molly." George's mom's name was odd on her tongue, but she'd have to get used to it now. "Don't worry. I can handle her."
-
"You should check on the invitations, George," Molly was saying as she marched up Diagon Alley. "The shop said they'd be ready before we left, and someone needs to make sure they're out. And that the date's correct, since they sent them out wrong for Ginny's wedding. It should say--"
"September 18, 2004," George said, in a near perfect imitation of his mom’s voice. She glared, and he smiled innocently, switching back to his usual voice. "Angie and I picked the date, Mom. No one wiped our memories."
Molly ignored him. "Arthur, get us a table at the Leaky Cauldron; we'll want to eat before long, and it's almost lunch. And you come with me, Angelina."
"But I can go with--"
"I need your advice on something, dear."
She shot George a helpless look, and he gave her a sympathetic leer before ducking off in the last wisps of fog that lingered. She could hardly blame him. They'd been engaged for a month and a half, and somehow, George's mom had managed to contact Angelina every single day between March the sixth and April 24th.
With a hefty sigh, she slumped after Molly, but they stopped before long in front of Madam Malkin's.
"Here we are!" Molly stepped inside.
Angelina stepped inside after her, where she already speaking with Madam Malkin, who was clad in a green robe.
"--future daughter-in-law needs a robe for her wedding."
"Molly," Angelina said, in a rush, "I already have an appointment for a dress shop."
"Nonsense. We're here, aren't we? And George is definitely out of your hair." She turned back to Madam Malkin's. “Your finest white. Or maybe cream?”
Angelina realized when she was fighting a lost cause, and stepped on a platform. Madam Malkin pulled out a bolt of white fabric, but Angelina, with a spark of inspiration, asked, "Do you have anything in violet?"
Molly opened her mouth to speak, but Madam Malkin nodded and ducked into the back.
"We're getting married in George’s shop, after all," Angelina said, admiring herself in a floor-length mirror. "Doesn't make sense to go traditional, does it?"
"Whatever you like," Molly said in an even tone.
Angelina could feel Molly’s eyes on her like the strongest curse she could find. But as Madam Malkin brought out a shimmering robe with charming ruffles, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
-
Molly's head glowed green in the fireplace as she spoke. "I got in touch with the caterer again, but I can't imagine they'll pick up the slack. So we're going with the fellow I know, and he's promised to work with all speed."
"Thank you, Molly," Angelina said, weary. "I'll make note of it."
A hand touched her shoulder. "Mum, we're visiting. Can't this wait until the weekend?"
"Hardly, George! We only have a month, and this needs to be settled!"
Ginny stepped up to Angelina's side. From this angle, Angelina could see Ginny's just-protruding stomach much easier. "Mom, please. Angelina had to work all day."
"It's okay," Angelina said.
Molly's look became fond. "Of course. I'll talk to you again on Saturday, dear."
"Good night," Ginny said.
"Take care of yourself, Ginny. And give my love to the rest."
Molly disappeared, and Angelina sagged in her chair. Harry stepped in the room with a Firewhiskey, and Angelina accepted it gratefully.
"I thought she'd pay more attention to you lot now," she said, as Harry and Ginny took their seats. "Aren't babies bigger than weddings?"
"Oh, she will," Ron said, as he walked inside. "But your wedding's first."
"Why," Angelina said to George, as he sat on the arm of Angelina's chair, "isn't she pestering you? You could take a few of these questions."
"Yes, George," Hermione said primly. "It's your wedding, too."
George sniffed and grabbed his lapels. "I'm an important businessman. Loads to do."
"Right." Ron rolled his eyes. "If by 'important businessman', you mean, 'too busy faffing around with Levitation Lollies so you have an excuse not to talk to Mum'."
"Either or," George said, showing teeth.
"When's your leave?" Harry asked Angelina. "Soon?"
"Not soon enough," Angelina said. "We've got the kickoff of the Quidditch season to finish."
"You still going to Romania on your honeymoon?" Ginny asked.
George nodded. "Charlie gave us some recommendations. Sounded like fun."
"If by 'fun', you mean, 'we get to play with dragons'," Angelina said.
George flashed her a smile, and despite her exhaustion, a bit of giddiness caught up with her.
-
Even for the rehearsal, the floor of Weasley Wizard Wheezes was clear. Many of the wall adornments were gone as well, and various family members from both sides were waving decorations up, but one thing remained untouched: the memorial portrait of Fred Weasley. Angelina, like she always did, gave it a small wave. The picture of Fred, like he always did, smoothed his hair and waggled his eyebrows in her direction.
“Took you long enough.”
“Hullo, you,” she said as George walked up and kissed her temple. She squeezed his arm.
He whispered in her ear. Unfortunately, it was neither exciting nor romantic. “Mum’s on a roll tonight. Duck and cover.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
“--need to practice the lineup, where in Merlin’s name is...Angelina!”
Angelina turned and pasted on a fake smile. She figured she’d use it quite a bit in the next day; she just hoped it didn't look as phony as it felt. “Molly. Hi.”
“The bridesmaids and groomsmen are already lined up! We need to practice coming in and going out!”
“We didn't--” Angelina began, but Molly started pushing her toward the back of the room. Ron and Lee Jordan, the latter in shiny black robes with pinstripes, hovered on one side, and Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet slouched on the other side. George started over to his attendants, but when he caught the look on Angelina’s face, he stopped in place and spun on his heel.
“Mom,” he said, “Angie and I don’t want to walk in lineups. We want our people there, and we want to walk in together.”
Molly’s face tightened. “What?”
“I tried to tell you,” Angelina said. Her voice was dry. “George and I made plans months ago. But you never stopped long enough to listen.”
The Weasleys in the area flinched. Molly raised an eyebrow and said, “You must not have tried hard enough.”
“Oh no. You tried hard enough for the both of us, didn't you?” She turned to George. “I think you can practice without me. I'll be in the back.”
And with that, she stormed off, and refused to leave until Molly had left for the evening.
-
Ginny poked her head in the room as Katie waved her wand, and the last portion of Angelina’s robes slipped into place. “Hi. Mind if I come in?”
The bulb on the photographer’s camera went off. Angelina resisted the urge to rub her eyes for the hundredth time. “Not at all.”
“I was just hoping we could talk,” Ginny said as she walked inside.
She started to close the door, but Alicia caught it and said, “Actually, we’ll wait out here. We have to leave for the shop in a minute anyway.”
Katie lingered until Alicia elbowed her in the side, and they both bowed out, their light-violet robes flaring out behind them as they exited. The photographer, an old wizard with a beard to his feet, caught the door and left as well.
“Is this about your mom?” Angelina said, admiring herself in the mirror. Her robes looked lovely, as did the matching ribbons and beads she’d had weaved into her braids. “Because I’m not sorry. I'm only sorry I didn't say it months ago.”
Ginny sat on a chair by the mirror. “I should've warned you. She was a fright during my wedding. We went at it for about a year, and had a row about two minutes before I walked down the aisle.”
Angelina chuckled. She’d been there with George, at the Burrow; the guests had been outside, but everyone could hear Ginny and Molly’s raised voices coming all the way from the house. But Harry and Ginny had looked pleased with everything, once it had played out, and no one had said a word about it after.
“I should've known, I guess,” Angelina said. “I was there. I just figured...”
“That we’re related, and we both have the same temper?”
“Something like that.”
“You should've been around for Ron and Hermione. Or for Fleur. Wasn't that a treat.” Ginny reached a hand forward. “Don’t tell Mom I said this, but...it’s her way of welcoming you to the family. Don’t be too hard on her.”
Angelina snorted quietly. “I suppose.”
“Besides,” Ginny said, “she’ll start up with George before too long. He never stays in her good graces.”
-
George was waiting for her in the back of the shop in his dress robes. He’d opted for something more subtle than Angelina; it looked like a Muggle suit and tie, with a bit more flair to it. He also had a top hat, and the band on the hat and the color of the tie matched her frilly purple dress.
“I’m glad you left last night,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “It gave me a chance to go a little wild.”
Angelina grinned in a completely genuine manner. It was so wide, it hurt. “Just a little?”
A funereal dirge started playing, and Angelina schooled her face to solemnity.
“Welcome to the end,” she said, and they stepped outside.
There were seats all along the aisle, twisting to the front of the shop. No one was sitting, however; various peers were standing directly next to the aisle, wearing different Quidditch uniforms and hefting brooms. Over their heads, a game of Quidditch appeared to be in-progress; it was only four people, so there weren't Beaters or Seekers, but there were two Chasers, Charlie and Ginny Weasley, and two Keepers, Oliver Wood and Dean Thomas.
Angelina laughed. She couldn't help it; it was all too brilliant. But she felt her smile die as she brought her gaze to the floor, where Molly was patently not looking at her. But then, she sort of looked as if she were giving an evil eye to George, who tipped the brim of his hat when he passed by.
At the end of the aisle stood a human-sized canary. As Angelina and George stepped up to it, the feathers fell to the floor and revealed Harry Potter, who grinned at them both, green eyes twinkling. The dirge cut off, and the players of the game brought their brooms to the floor. Ginny winked at Angelina, wiping sweat from her forehead.
“You,” Angelina whispered to George, “couldn't match concepts if your life depended on it, could you?”
George shrugged. “My clothes match.”
Harry spit a feather out of his mouth. “Please, everyone take your seats.”
The Quidditch honor guard split, and the rest of the guests filed to their seats. Angelina, in a flash of inspiration, darted to Molly before she sat, and took her hands.
“Wait a sec,” she said. “Just watch.”
She returned to the altar area just as the majority of the guests lowered themselves onto their cushions. The older guests remained seated; it was the compromise George and Angelina had struck. But the rest vaulted several feet into the air and hovered. Many of them laughed. Arthur spun in place, clapping his hands as he did so. Hermione looked amused, but a little flustered as her hair floated around her. Angelina’s own parents were holding out their arms for stability and trying to stay upright.
Molly remained standing. She took in the room, and prepared her best glare for George. But she looked over to Angelina, and gave her a small nod, and Angelina nodded back.
“Now that we have your attention,” Harry said, “please be seated.”
Everyone floated down into their seats. Angelina took George’s hands and matched his smile.
She was ready to get married.