✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

05 | S T O L E N D A N C E

we're goin' down
and you know that we're doomed
my dear,                      
we're slow dancing in
                     a burnin' room.

   "HOLA, MADEMOISELLE. MAY I show you around? You look a bit lost."

   Fred grinned his most charming smile, and Ember rolled her eyes without answering him.

   "You for sure are one of the bride's cousins, I assume?", he asked further on. "I already showed the others their seats, I can lead you to yours as well."

   "Oh please, shut up!", Ember hissed, pushing his outstretched arm away.

    "As fierce as beautiful", Fred chuckled, still not letting her pass the entrance of the gigantic party tent. "The gentleman in me insists to help the lady."

   "Then go and look for a lady, you moron!"

   "Someone told me you french people were actually polite", the ginger laughed.

   "I probably would, but I'm too busy to be fucking disappointed you don't remember anything", said Ember, her fingers closing around the necklace that at least should have given him the final hint.

   "I'm pretty sure I would remember such a beauty as you are, if I'd ever come across her before."

   "I danced a whole night with you in that exact same outfit, dipshit!"

   Fred blinked, his eyes flickering up and down Ember's body, and she could clearly see his brain working behind this warm brown eyes. One of his eyebrows lifted and lowered again.

   "There's something ringing, indeed, but maybe you want to give me a little hint? If I ever had come to see you naked, it would help if you —"

   "Oh dear Merlin!", Ember yelled, boxing his chest. "It's me, Frederik! The Polyjuice Potion? Remember?"

   And Fred's jaw dropped, his cheeks flushing crimson. "E-Emmie?", he gasped, running his fingers through his hair, his eyes now falling on the necklace, then again the dress, landing back on her tanned face framed by blonde curls, and his brown eyes locked with her blue ones. "Oh yeah, the dress", he then laughed. "Almost didn't recognise it without the ferrets nosebleed on it."

   "Ha-ha", Ember dryly replied, "so this is how you try to get into poor girls' pants? Has it ever worked out, say?"

   "It didn't want to get into your pants", he smirked. "Under your dress, maybe, but not into your pants."

   "You will be the death of me, Weasley!", she snapped, pushing him aside, to finally enter the tent. With the corners of her mouth twitching, she turned around once more. "The death!", she yelled, watching him winking at her, before she turned her back on him, spotting Susan and Hannah in the crowd.

   It was a beautiful ceremony. Ember had never been on a wedding before, neither magical, nor muggle, but she could definitely tell that every muggle bride would be jealous about that true magical moment of getting this life bound on the wizarding way.

   After the formal part had passed, quickly the dancefloor filled. Susan and Lee Jordan seemed to have the time of their life, and Ember was glad to see her friend so happy after all that gruesome things that had happened to her family. Hannah was talking to Neville a couple of seats from Ember. Harry was dancing with Ginny. You could easily forget the was a war raging outside the paper thin walls of this tent. But for now that was exactly what Ember wanted: forgetting.

   "Hey french fry, wanna dance?"

   Her head jerked up, hazel eyes locking with sapphire blue and she grinned as she took Ron's outstretched hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

   "Oh damn, I'm so glad it's actually you", Ron nervously laughed. "There are three of you blondies in silver dresses, and I'm actually praying that the girl I asked before didn't understand a bloody word I spoke."

   "I guess french fry is a pretty international expression", Ember laughed, following Ron to the dancefloor.

   "If a Boggart would show up right now, I swear this would be my biggest fear", he snorted, before he placed his hands on her hips.

   "What is it with you Weasley boys that you just can't remember a simple dress?", Ember laughed, throwing her head back. "I mean, I would definitely remember your dress robe out of a million!"

   "Oh, haw-haw, we're funny tonight, aren't we?", Ron growled, and his eyebrows furrowed.

   "When did you learn to dance?"

   "How can you tell I couldn't before?"

   "Well, at the Yule Ball —"

   "I didn't dance at the Yule Ball", said Ron, "because I didn't want to. Not because I couldn't."

   There was a slower song starting, and Ember felt her cheeks heathen up as Ron pulled her closer. Shyly, she placed her head against his shoulder, as she had just done yesterday.

   "Okay, my questions are obviously making you feel uncomfortable", Ember quietly chuckled, "but I have one last."

   "Fire away, it can't get worse than my dressrobe misery", Ron replied, and in the sound of his words she could hear him smirking.

   "Fifth year ... The night Umbridge blew up the DA ..." She cleared her throat. "Why have you never — well, why didn't you ... You know —"

   "You want to know why I kissed you and acted like a complete arse afterwards?"

   "Straight to the point."

   Ron fell silent, slowly moving to the music, before he sighed. "Remember Valentine's Day?" Ember nodded against his chest. "Then you remember Harry's reaction to the sheer thought of me dating you as well. He is my best friend. I just couldn't do this to him. He was so protective of you. He still is "

   "But nevertheless you're dancing with me here right in front of him", Ember said, looking up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "What changed?"

   "He's been snogging my sister", said Ron, his face plain. "So ... it's just fair, isn't it?"

   Ember's lips parted for a second, and Ron's ears turned red, clearly regretting what he had just said. But his features softened, as Ember started to roar with laughter, and she felt his chest vibrating against her cheek, before he bursted out laughing as well. Not just a few heads turned towards them, but had suddenly been distracted by something else.

   Ember's laughter got stuck in her throat, as something fell through the tents baldachin; silverish white and majestic, a lynx landed in the middle of the dancing crowd, and with the soothing voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt it announced, "The ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They're coming."

—