The Other Potter: Book 7

If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

Three o'clock on the following afternoon found a bunch of us awaiting Wedding Guests. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice Potion and was now the double of a redheaded Muggle boy from the local village, from whom Fred had stolen hairs using a Summoning Charm. The plan was to introduce Harry as "Cousin Barny" and trust to the great number of Weasley relatives to camouflage him.

And they left me as me because no one cares about the other potter.

I was standing around awkwardly because Mrs. Weasley told me to relax, but everyone else was rushing around crazily. I was wearing this weird mint coloured dress that Hermione dressed me in, and she’d given me matching heels. The only way to describe the dress is that if I spin, it flips out and goes nuts. My hair was in all these curly bits falling around dramatically. Oh, and the rainbow hair thing had washed out and my hair was this goldy brown. Yeah. I’ve got the bestest descriptive powers when it comes to talking about girly clothes.

That didn’t make sense.

Yeah.

 Anyway, Hermione was dressed in this lilac-coloured dress with matching high heels; her hair was sleek and shiny. I was waiting for her to appear with Harry – the ranga and Ron the ranga.

Ron was saying some shit and then “Wow.” blinking rather rapidly as Hermione came hurrying toward us. "You look great!"

"Always the tone of surprise," said Hermione, though she smiled. "Your Great-Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur the tiara. She said, 'Oh dear, is this the Muggle-born?' and then, 'Bad posture and skinny ankles.'"

"Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone," said Ron.

"Talking about Muriel?" inquired George, reemerging from the marquee with Fred. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat...” he trailed off looking at me apparently mesmerised, and I turned into a fucking tomato before he continued. ”I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings."

He was still looking at me.

And he was smiling.

Oh my god.

George.

Oh my god.

MY OVARIES!

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" asked Hermione.

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end," conceded George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," said Fred. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his-“

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.

"Never married, for some reason," said Ron.

"You amaze me," said Hermione.

We were all laughing so much that none of us noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows, until he held out his invitation to Ron and said, with his eyes on Hermione, "You look vunderful."

"Viktor!" she shrieked, and dropped her small beaded bag, which made a loud thump quite disproportionate to its size. As she scrambled, blushing, to pick it up, she said "I didn't know you were-goodness-it's lovely to see -how are you?"

Ron's ears had turned bright red again. After glancing at Krum's invitation as if he did not believe a word of it, he said, much too loudly, "how come you're here?"

"Fleur invited me," said Krum, eyebrows raised.

I forgot to pay attention for a moment, and then:

"Time to sit down," Fred told us, "or we're going to get run over by the bride."

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats in the second row behind Fred and George and I.