Sugar : Fred Weasley

60: Gone

[victoria's pov]

August 1st, 1997

The sky above was a brilliant, clear blue, and the sun shone warmly on Weasley's picturesque garden. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the aroma of homemade pastries and roasted meats, promising a tantalising feast to come. Fairy lights twinkle from every corner, and enchanted garlands of flowers floated gently in the breeze, creating an atmosphere that was both whimsical and welcoming.

The guests were a colourful and lively mix of witches, wizards, and magical creatures. I spotted members of the order bustling about, their faces alight with joy and a hint of controlled pandemonium. Mrs. Weasley was at the centre of it all, directing a group of house-elves with a flurry of cheerful commands and a few good-natured scolding. Her efforts had clearly turned the Burrow into a place of enchantment and celebration.

As I made my way to a nearby seat, I saw Fleur in her stunning wedding dress—a beautiful, flowing gown that seemed to capture the light in a dazzling array of simple colours. Bill stood by her side, his gaze filled with adoration and pride. The two of them looked radiant as they prepared to exchange their vows at a makeshift altar set up in the garden, surrounded by a canopy of flowers and shimmering spells.

Fred was by my side, in his own lovely suit as I held his arm.

"This'll be us one day, you know," Fred said quietly.

I smiled and kissed his shoulder. "One day. With you and your rapier wit, I'll never expect it."

Fred smiled.

His suit was a deep, rich burgundy that shimmered subtly in the sunlight, a perfect blend of elegance and Weasley charm. The tailored jacket hugged his frame precisely, while the long, flowing coat added an air of sophistication with its slightly shimmering threads woven into the fabric.

The ceremony itself was a lovely blend of traditional and magical elements. The officiant, an elderly wizard with a kind smile, spoke words of wisdom and affection as he guided Fleur and Bill through their vows. I noticed that their promises were accompanied by small bursts of magic—glowing symbols that floated gently into the air before dissipating in a shower of sparkles.

After the ceremony, the reception was a feast for the senses. The tables were laden with an array of delectable dishes—everything from savoury pies and roasts to intricately decorated cakes and pastries. Each dish seemed to have a magical touch; a pie levitated to the table, a cake sliced itself into perfect portions, and a jug of pumpkin juice refilled itself whenever someone's glass was empty.

Unsure who to mingle with, I sat down and listened to the music as I watched Fred. As he mingled with the guests, his outfit was a perfect balance of dashing elegance and cheeky charm. He moved through the crowd with his usual ease, the light and the magical aura around him seeming to play along with his outfit. It was clear that, despite the formal setting, he was still very much Fred Weasley—my man who could turn even a wedding into a stage of fun.

The evening was filled with laughter and music. There was a lively dance floor where people twirled and swayed under floating lanterns that changed colours with the rhythm of the music.

I joined in, dancing with friends and strangers alike, enjoying the cheerful atmosphere and the feeling of camaraderie that seemed to pervade the night.

At one point, the sky was illuminated with a dazzling display of magical stars—colours and shapes that danced and swirled in intricate patterns, reflecting the joy and excitement of the occasion. The entire scene felt like a celebration of not just Fleur and Bill's love, but of life itself and the magic that surrounded us.