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★★★
CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO:
wedding planning
★★★
Aurora woke late and no one woke her which was even weirder. Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, soft and golden, warming the wooden floorboards of her bedroom. The air smelled like sea salt and lavender from the sachets Molly had tucked into her drawers. Her limbs felt heavy, like she had spent the night underwater.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. The dream she'd had lingered at the edge of her thoughts—disjointed flashes of fire, running footsteps, and a voice calling her name that wasn't Harry's. It disappeared the moment her feet touched the floor.
Downstairs, the castle was already alive. When she opened her door, Louis stood in his usual place outside, arms crossed.
He gave her a mock salute. "Thought maybe you'd disappeared again."
Aurora smirked, brushing past him. "You wish?"
"Big day?" he asked, falling in step beside her.
"Big-ish. Wedding planning chaos, I think. Magnolia's going to pretend she's annoyed, but I know she's into it." Aurora smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We want to try and have the wedding for tomorrow now."
"You enjoy. I shall be staying as far away from that as I can."
Aurora padded down the hallway in thick socks and one of her father's oversized cardigans—an unspoken symbol of comfort these days. Louis trailed behind, chatting about the ridiculous number of chairs needed for a "small" wedding.
"You'd think we were hosting a Tournament or something." he said, exasperated. "Ted has been awake the last two nights in that bloody kitchen trying to "perfect" a wedding cake, no one's had a wedding this big here in years."
She gave a short laugh, grateful for him. "That's what happens when you put Ginny and Jackie in charge. This wedding's going to be a diplomatic summit by the time they're done. I also imagine half the island will be coming, they're planning on having it down by the beach."
Downstairs, the castle was full of movement. People were gathered in every direction—clusters of friends and family working on something. Spells sparked across tables as decorations floated mid-air, and soft music played from an old radio Molly had enchanted to drift between rooms.
