Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the Harry Potter series or it's characters. This is purely for fun, and I am making no money from this story.

Welcome to the new and improved version of Magicae Potest Non Curare!

I look forward to hearing your thoughts and opinions.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

4:40pm June 25th, 2000

Looking out across The Burrow on that perfect and cloudless Sunday afternoon, watching as scores of wizarding folk arrived to celebrate the wedding of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, one could be forgiven for not realising that only two years ago the wedding party had been neck deep in a violent war. Still everyone attending the event had been affected by the wizarding world's second war in one way or another.

If you looked closely the scars left behind by the war were always present. The war had irrevocably changed the wizarding world, and everyone within it.

In some cases people had changed for the better, however the greater majority still bore physical and emotional scars left behind long after Lord Voldemort's downfall at the hand of then seventeen year old Harry Potter.

Yet as the nominated time for the ceremony approached, the Weasleys, the Grangers, and their mutual friend, Harry Potter were just like anyone would be as they made last minute preparations for the nuptials.

For too many years the family's home had seen immeasurable pain, grief, and suffering; it made a nice change of pace for The Burrow to be once again filled with excitement and activity, it almost felt as it did before.

Being the parents of the groom (and hosts to what had become a rather large affair) Molly and Arthur hurried about putting the final touches on the massive white marquee and surrounding gardens, putting each of their youngest son's three eldest brothers to work on this task and that. Meanwhile the bride and groom were upstairs readying themselves and their bridesmaids/groomsmen.

All of the women had gathered in Ginny's bedroom to dress and prepare. Though it was to be a traditional wizarding ceremony, Hermione had chosen a muggle wedding gown; a tasteful, yet modern one of a kind creation made by a highly regarded British designer.

The ivory gown clung perfectly to Hermione's curves, gently tapering outwards at the beaded hem to form the skirt, while a layer of intricate lace lay over the bodice, extending down to Hermione's elbows to complete the dress.

Gathered around the room were those women closest to Hermione - her mother, Emily, her best friend - and maid of honour - Ginny Weasley, and two of her close friends - both bridesmaids - Luna Lovegood and Strella Caviscone; the latter a colleague from the ministry.

While the bridesmaids had donned their matching dark violet gowns, Hermione's mother was adjusting her set of mauve dress robes (a compromise). In desperation she called across the room to her daughter, "Darling, please how is this supposed to go?"

From where Hermione sat while Strella styled her hair, the muggleborn witch motioned for Luna and Ginny to help her mother, who was struggling hopelessly with the unfamiliar garment.

In the moment of relative quiet, Hermione turned to her friend, but her thoughts were not on her stunning appearance, but rather the risk which to that day gathering such a crowd of 'light' supporters held. "Did you check with Bill Weasley that the wards are strong? I probably still have time to place that new ward I read about last night; it would only take an hour-"

"Hermione, calm down. Every safety precaution has been taken, so please relax and let yourself be happy, this is your day. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise," Strella declared, as with a final flourish of her wand, she finished Hermione's hairstyle.

"Strella's right, Hermione," Ginny added from where she was admiring her own handiwork - untangling, and redressing Mrs Granger in the dress robes she was to wear, "Everything is perfect, all you need to do is come downstairs-" Ginny paused, smirking wickedly, "That is unless you have decided against marrying my idiot brother."

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "Don't worry, I wouldn't deprive you of your chance to walk up the aisle with Harry."

Two floors above the girls' dressing room, Ron was pacing anxiously, as his best man, Harry Potter, and groomsmen, Neville Longbottom and George Weasley stood patiently to the side of the cramped attic room.

Suits may not have been all that different to dress robes, but you wouldn't have known that given the chaotic scene as Ron Weasley, and his groomsmen were dressing.

Harry - being the only muggle-raised person in the room - was doing his best to explain how to tie ties, and affix cuff links, however even his usually unshakable patience was wearing thin. For the past three weeks Harry had been struggling to shake off a nasty flu, which had been plaguing him. Between that, and Ron's increasing wedding jitters, for Harry this day was looking less and less like a celebration, and an increasingly tedious chore.

Still, it was Harry's duty as Ron's best man to get his best friend to the altar, and he was going to do so, even if it was the last thing he did.

"...must be completely off my rocker," Ron was muttering to Harry, pacing his bedroom anxiously. "Remember when we met her? We thought she was a lunatic, and now I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her."

Yes, at first Ron and Hermione had been like fire and water, in many ways they still were, that's ultimately what made each of them perfect for the other. And that is precisely what Harry reminded Ron of, until the groom-to-be finally settled, at least for a few minutes.

5:01pm June 25th, 2000

The exquisitely decorated marquee was packed with the young couple's friends and family. Almost everyone they knew had come to the wedding, their work colleagues, old school friends, members of the Order of the Phoenix and of Dumbledore's Army, along with their supporters, and many of their old Hogwarts teachers.

For the most part the excitement at regaining their freedom had worn off, but the role that Ron and Hermione had played in finally killing the dark lord - who had been responsible for causing such devastation - had caused quite the media sensation, and as such the couple became as famous as 'the-boy-who-lived' in their own regard. As such their wedding had become quite symbolic of the safer times the wizarding world now looked forward to.

A charmed harp began to play as Hermione stepped up to walk down the aisle, following the bridal procession, her hand firmly held by her father.

Hermione looked positively radiant as she glided down the aisle, her elegant gown flowing into a delicately beaded and embroidered train that ran for nearly ten feet behind her. Any fear or doubt in her mind dissipated as she lay eyes on her soon to be husband standing at the altar.

Mr Granger went through the motions of giving away his only daughter, then stepped away to take his seat in the front row beside his already tearful wife. They were to be the only members of Hermione's family to attend, as she had wanted a wizarding ceremony, and in her family only her parents knew that Hermione was magical.

Handing her bouquet to Ginny, Hermione took the final step to face Ron.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful, and brave souls..." And so the ceremony began.

The wizard presiding over the ceremony followed the usual wizarding wedding vows, though he would slip in rather blatant reminders to the gathering of how the young couple had fought alongside their friends against Lord Voldemort.

"...Then I declare you bonded for life."

As Ron and Hermione shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and the guests rose to their feet, applauding, the marquee instantly transformed into a setting suitable to host the reception dinner.

If anything, as the reception got into full swing even more guests arrived, filling the tent to capacity. No one minded though.

In the post war wizarding world such gatherings were rare, and mainly for that reason the reception more resembled a reunion, friends both young and old gathered together.

In the back corner of the marquee sat Harry - he didn't know anymore if he was trying to be inconspicuous, or just was too fatigued to move. At the end of the day though, he was Harry Potter, and people would always gravitate towards him.

Once Ron and Hermione had adjourned from the party for their week long honeymoon in France, the guests slowly broke away - going home.

The sun dipped low in the sky, and only a couple of dozen guests remained, as the one person whom Harry had been expecting to be cornered by finally approached him - his former professor, a member of the Order, and Hogwarts School's latest headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.

The two of them had been exchanging frequent owls for several weeks.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry greeted her politely.

"And to you, Mr Potter. I don't suppose you have your decision for me?"

The decision which Professor McGonagall spoke of was in fact a job offer; Harry had been asked to return to Hogwarts in the coming year as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It had been decided between the Minister of Magic and the headmistress that an auror's presence would help ensure the ongoing safety at the school, and thus convince nervous parents that it was safe to send their kids away to school.

And, even now - probably due to the fates of their predecessors - no teacher would agree to stay on for more than one year.

"I have. I look forward to seeing you in September."

Minerva let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Thank you."

"Though," Harry said, "I'll be lucky if I make it through the year, the position never ended well for any teacher as long as I attended, and as I understand it, for some time before that." A mischievous smile graced Harry's features, "You know that many believe the position to be cursed?"

To Be Continued...

And so it begins. I know right now it is very similar to the original, but there will be several important changes in the coming chapters, so sit back and settle in for the ride.