𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟑𝟗 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚," said Ophelia kindly to Fleur in french as she helped fan out the bottom of her veil, "Bill's a lucky man."

"Oh I know," said Fleur with a glowing smile, "But I'm sure he will be handsome too."

Gabrielle approached Ophelia, Ginny and Hermione with Fleur's bouquet in her hand, it looked absolutely stunning and she couldn't have felt more happy for the couple, Fleur admired the bouquet in her hands and smiled at the girls opposite her in the mirror.

"You girls look magnificent also," said Fleur sweetly as her mother charmed her hair into curls, "Would it be too much to ask you to put some decorations in your hair? It's looking a little plain -- and I understand 'Phelia that you have a silver allergy so all of the cutlery and decorations have been switched to gold--"

"Oh Fleur you didn't have to--"

"Course I did," said Fleur insistently, "It would like 'ideous, otherwise."

Ophelia nodded, "What kind of decorations would you like?"

"Some flowers perhaps, maybe some pins?" said Fleur as she reached up to touch each of the girls hair individually, though all three of them were wearing them in completely different styles to each other, "There are spare flowers in the basket there," she said pointing to a small wicker basket filled with flowers, Hermione retrieved a bunch and no sooner than she did the door opened to reveal a very old woman with a beaky nose and red glasses which she narrowed her eyes at everyone present.

The blond was immediately given the sense that this woman had nothing nice to say for anyone at all and reminded her horridly of her own grandmother.

"So you're the bride Bill's wedding?" said Muriel "I don't see what all the fuss is about honestly, beautiful people tend to be so -- boring."

"Hello Muriel." said Ginny in a very put on enthusiasm.

"Introduction charmante," murmured Ophelia under her breath as the other three girls stifled their laughter, "I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced, this is Fleur, this is Gabrielle her sister, the lady to your right is Mrs Delacour, my good friend Hermoine and I'm Ophelia---"

"Oh I know exactly who you are alright," she said in an accusatory manner, "I read all about you, unlike most you couldn't wait until after marriage could you? Oh yes you've got that familiar glow... but those scars are a lot more noticeable in person than in the press pictures... scars are very unsightly for a young lady, especially in your delicate position -- here I brought this with me, works wonders for marks like those."

She tossed Ophelia a glass jar which Ophelia caught with her quick reflexes, being a part-time seeker worked wonders for such things.

While everyone else wore an expression of complete and utter mortification, Ophelia smiled kindly as she spoke quite plainly with not a single ounce of malice.
""Je ne prends pas les conseils de quelqu'un qui a l'air d'avoir utilisé une râpe à fromage comme exfoliant."

"Am I supposed to know what that means... is this wedding going to be all in French?"

"Parts of it." Said Hermione, "If you need help translating we can help you."

"Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?" Asked Muriel looking up and down at Hermione,  "Bad posture and skinny ankles."

At Muriel's nasty comment Hermione straightened her back and crossed her ankles, though Ophelia rotated the small jar of cream in her hands contemplatively.

"Perhaps we should leave you on your own to catch up?" Said Ophelia, taking ahold of Hermione's hand as she briskly walked by Muriel into the bathroom across the hall.