Author's Note: I'm not J.K. Rowling, do not gain anything from this, etc.

This has been a work-in-progress for quite some time; I started writing this in November and posted it on my birthday. So much has happened since I first posted this chapter, and I'm currently working through editing each one while I continue writing, so please excuse awkward formatting and weird inconsistencies for the time being.

TLWA was a plot challenge created by SinghSong in HPFC, probably one of the coolest forums that I never say anything in like, ever. It's my first HP multi-chapter long-haul fic, and finishing this will be the best thing to ever happen for me. So it's gonna take a while, sadly. If anyone is willing to Beta this fic (which would help me put out chapters quicker), I would be forever greatful.

Thanks to HPSlashLuv for being an amazing beta!

Warnings: Character death, mild violence, abuse mentions.

The Wedding of Bill and Fleur

August 1, 1997

"An event marked by historians as the start of the Second Wizarding War. Tom Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort, attacked the Ministry of Magic in a stealthy maneuver where he assassinated the Minister at the time, Rufus Scrimgeour." - Jennifer Travers, "Magic Through the Ages"

The wedding of Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley was an elegant affair, taffeta and lace ribbons pressed up along golden chairs. up along golden chairs. Despite the perils of the past year, the couple was thoroughly ecstatic over the plans, having thought over the proceedings for quite some time. Each detail was carefully maneuvered, each bow and balloon expertly tied.

Fleur and her future mother-in-law had presided over the decorations. The purple carpet was adorned with flowers, and each of the tents possessed the loveliest golden ribbons. Individuals had been showed to their chairs with thoroughly plotted seating charts, guided by perfectly presented siblings and 'cousins'.

As the golden balloons around the altar swelled with music, everyone whirled around in their seats to watch the bridal procession. Both Ginny Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour glided gently down the carpet, their golden dresses shimmering in the light. As they approached Bill and Charlie, the groom and his best man, they split, each standing on one side.

Everyone watched with bated breath for the bride to enter.

From the end of the aisle walked Monsieur Delacour and his daughter, both beaming with joy. The man was practically bouncing, his bright purple dress robes billowing out behind him. Fleur looked radiant in her wedding gown, its simplicity only emphasizing her dramatic beauty.

At the altar, Bill looked polished and pressed, a dopey grin present on his face. As Fleur reached him, he stretched out his hand. It appeared as if he had never encountered a werewolf a few months before.

From his place in the audience, Harry Potter gazed pensively at the affair. Although the officiant was droning on and on about love and marriage, he had found himself distracted by the folds of Ginny's dress. Was it only a little while ago that they were at Hogwarts, relaxing by the lake? Had they only just been lurking around empty corners of Hogwarts?

It had always felt like he was someone else in those moments, like he wasn't 'the Boy-Who-Lived'. He had just been Harry with her, he was always just Harry. But now, he was something more.

Well, not exactly. He was currently under Polyjuice and was posing as one of the many Weasley relatives. And, despite the way his dress robes were straining, he was excited to be someone else. Nobody knew he was there.

Except for Luna and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. But that was beside the point for the moment.

He was drawn back into the speech towards the very last moments when he heard a loud, explosive sound generate from Hagrid. Blinking suddenly, Harry turned towards Hermione, about to remark on his zoned out state. He said nothing when he realized her eyes were full of tears.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle…?"

Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour traded scraps of lace in the front row, both of them sobbing gently. Hagrid blew his nose once more, and Harry now heard Hermione sniffing beside him.

"… then I declare you bonded for life."

The small, wild-haired wizard lifted his wand over the newlyweds, showering silver stars over their bowed heads. Fred and George leapt to their feet, applauding and hooting, which caused the rest of the audience to join in. At the loud round of applause, the balloons burst, birds of paradise flying suddenly outwards, singing joyously.

Again, the wizard called them to order, asking if they would all stand. It took very little time, seeing as the majority of the wedding was already standing. Great Aunt Muriel, of course, complained loudly as she did so, utilizing one of the many Weasley cousins in order to stand.

The wizard waved his wand again. In a delicate motion, the walls of the tent vanished, creating a sort of canopy supported by golden poles. The orchard around them added a beautiful afternoon, the sun only just beginning to creep down the sky. Next, the chairs lifted into the air, hovering as a golden dance floor spread from the center of the room. The carpet rolled up dramatically, and white clothed tables replaced the altar. Finally, the chairs grouped towards the tables just as the band stepped toward a platform.

Everyone dispersed, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione still standing in their spots. Ron awkwardly tugged at the hem of his sleeves before turning towards one of the waiters, glancing excitedly at the silver tray piled high with food.

"Brilliant," he remarked, plucking a few sandwiches from the pile. He shoved one in his mouth, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Let's go congratulate them!"

Harry stole one of the sandwiches from Ron, looking towards where Bill and Fleur were overtaken by well-wishers. "We'll have time later," he reassured her through a mouthful of cucumber.

"You two are useless, I swear! What do you want to do? Sit down somewhere, hiding from view?"

Ron swallowed, then grinned. "Exactly. Not there, though. Nowhere near Muriel – "

He practically dragged his friends through the crowd, his head swiveling from side to side in order to locate a free table. By the time they had reached the other side of the tent, most of them were occupied; the loneliest one belonging to Luna Lovegood.

"Hello, Luna," said Harry, setting himself down beside her. Hermione whisked four bottles of butterbeer from a nearby waiter, passing them out as he spoke. "Mind if we join?"

"Oh, yes! Daddy's gone off to give Bill and Fleur our present."

"What is it, a guide to gnomes?" asked Ron, referencing their earlier meeting.

Hermione glared at him, aiming a kick in his direction. She missed, hitting Harry instead, who lost the conversation as he attempted to recuperate. He knew she could hit hard, but the pain had doubled with her strappy heels. Damn!

"- so we got them that instead," he overheard as he reentered the conversation. "I thought it was a lovely gesture."

Everyone nodded their agreement as the band began to play. It was a waltz, and Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor. Respectfully watching, Harry tapped his feet to the beat, nervous that someone would require him to dance. He was still scarred from the Yule Ball.

After a few minutes of dancing, Mr. Weasley led Madame Delacour to the floor, followed by his wife and Fleur's father. Now that it wasn't just the bride and groom, people felt obligated to join, and after a few seconds, Luna stood.

"You know, I quite like this song."

Alone, she stood on the dance floor, stepping by herself. The trio, now left to themselves, smiled at their friend.

"She's great," Ron said admiringly. "Always good value."

Harry made a motion to agree, taking a swig of his butterbeer. Just as he did, Viktor Krum dropped into Luna's empty seat, which caused Ron to immediately stand.

"Come and dance, Hermione," Ron stated, shifting so that he shielded the majority of Krum's massive figure from her view. His words were rushed, pouring out of his mouth in a hurry.

Hermione was taken aback, but she stood up, vanishing behind him onto the dance floor. She sent a glance towards Krum, but said nothing in greeting, still shocked by the sudden request.

"Oh! Are they together now?" Krum asked, a bit sheepishly. "I did not mean to intervene earlier, if so."

"Sort of," said Harry. That was the best explanation for what was going on between the pair, anyway.

"Who are you?"

He had briefly forgotten that he was in a disguise with how easily Krum had spoken to him. Harry ran a hand through his red curls, clearing his throat. "Barny Weasley."

Krum extended his hand, and he received it awkwardly.

"Barny, do you know who the man in yellow is?" Krum questioned with a scowl.

"Xenophilius Lovegood. He's the father of a friend of mine. Why?"

"Do you know him well?"

Confused, Harry said, "I only just met him today."

Krum's demeanor had darkened several degrees since the beginning of the conversation, and Harry was beginning to feel as if he had missed something extremely important. What had Xenophilius done? At the moment, he was simply chatting to several wizards on the other side of the tent, seeming innocent.

"He is wearing a sign that I would duel over," Krum said darkly. "The sign of a Dark wizard, a man who killed so many, including my grandfather."

"Sign? Dark wizard?"

"Grindelwald. He is wearing the sign of Grindelwald. I have dueled many a wizard over the mockery of this sign, and I would do so now, but he is one of Fleur's guests. I do not wish to ruin her wedding day."

Despite this, Krum still looked angered, his jaw clenched terribly. White knuckles continued to clutch his drink, and he took a sip as he glowered at the man.

Harry observed Xenophilius in confusion. He didn't seem like someone who would support the Dark Arts, especially seeing that he had raised Luna. And nobody else recognized the triangular shape, though that could have something to do with the unfamiliarity with the subject. Grindelwald was never extremely powerful in Britain, mostly due to his fear of Dumbledore.

"Are… Are you quite sure?"

"I have walked past that sign for years," Krum hissed. "I am not simply confused."

A few moments passed awkwardly between them, and Harry watched the dancers, now moving around to more exciting music. He recognized one of the songs as something Ginny had been singing earlier and scanned the area for a glimpse of her. When he was unable to locate her, he turned back to Krum.

"It could be possible that he doesn't know what it means," Harry began. "He and Luna–that's her over there, dancing alone–are pretty… strange. He could have just assumed that it was something related to the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something like that."

Krum blinked, still irate. "What the hell is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But listen, I don't think he meant it intentionally. I'm sure he'd take it off if you asked."

Krum grunted, standing suddenly. He either had lost interest or didn't entirely care for Harry's response; he wasn't able to tell which one and didn't truly wish to know. He wanted to find Ron and Hermione and question them about Grindelwald and the strange symbol on the necklace. At a glance, however, he noticed that they were still dancing in the center of the tent, talking seriously.

He made his way around the edge of the dance floor, nabbing a treacle tart from a passing waiter. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ginny dancing with Lee Jordan, and Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson laughing among themselves in the corner. He also spotted the Patil twins, dancing with a few of the other Weasley cousins, and he felt a glimpse of confusion as to why they were invited.

Harry sighed, leaning against one of the golden pillars. It probably had to do with some sort of Wizarding rule, or they could have been somehow related to the Weasleys. One could never know. Or it could have been some silly wedding tradition. He hadn't been to one before and wasn't sure of the differences. He was certain, however, that there was a distinct difference in wedding cakes, as Muggles would not have one topped with model phoenixes (which flew when the cake was cut), nor would they have bottles of champagne that floated through the crowd. They also wouldn't have had singing balloons that dissipated into singing birds.

He stood there as the night went on, watching as moths wept along the champagne bottles, fireflies twitching in between the golden lanterns. The party was slowly becoming livelier and uncontained, with Fred actively flirting with two of Fleur's cousins, George chatting up Angelina, and Charlie Weasley and Hagrid drunkenly singing in the corner.

The slightly tipsy man nearby him was convinced that Harry was a waiter. After being accosted twice regarding 'fruity tooties', he crept further into the crowd. It was easier than trying to explain that he didn't know what the man meant. As he wove through the crowd, he located a slightly nervous Mrs. Weasley observing a very strange piece of paper that, for a moment, he was convinced was the Marauder's Map.

No, that wasn't right. That was packed away, ready for it to be taken with them as soon as the wedding was over. He had seen Hermione put it in her beaded bag earlier.

Harry stepped closer, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Across the page, names darted in and out of rooms. The structure was familiar, as were a few of the names he could make out. Harry found that he was appreciating the Muggle boy's eyes, as they were far better than his own, even with glasses.

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as he approached, attempting to hastily hide the parchment. He stretched out an arm to grasp for it, catching both of them by surprise.

"What's this?" His hand rested along the worn paper, clutching at the edges. He glanced over the page, noticing Kingsley Shacklebolt's name lurking around a floor plan. After a moment, he recognized one of the other names, and it dawned on him. This was a map of the Ministry!

"Order business, dear," she said. Her hand pulled back the parchment, although she didn't put it away. "Nothing to worry about, nothing at all!"

A frown grew on Harry's face. He was tired of being treated like a child, despite the fact he was of age. He knew that Mrs. Weasley meant well, but it was becoming ridiculous. In a few days, he, Ron, and Hermione were going to go off and take down Voldemort, which they had been doing for years already. But when he looked up at her, her eyes were swimming with tears, and he found himself feeling awkward.

"Mrs. Weasley, is everything alright?"

She sniffed and looked down at the paper. A few of the dots were clustered around an office, swarming in circles. One of the dots disappeared, and she seemed to notice this with a bit of alarm. "Oh, yes, dear. Just… When you three go off— "

"Yes?" He hoped she wasn't trying to convince them otherwise; she had already tried before. As Ron had said, she wasn't going to accept that they were leaving until they were gone.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "I know you won't tell us what you lot will be up to. I don't like it, but I can accept it. But Harry, don't forget that you have an entire team behind you. You don't need to do it alone."

"But I do. You don't understand. I do, he told me," Harry said exasperatedly.

"You don't need to follow every instruction Professor Dumbledore gave you, Harry. You can ask for help. We're all here to help you, remember that."

As she spoke, Mrs. Weasley continued to study the paper in her hand. She seemed slightly distressed, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her fingers moved up and down the page, more out of anxiety than a focused determination.

Harry looked back at it, both curious and nervous.

"What is that, then?" he asked. She looked down to the parchment, surprised, as if startled that he wasn't arguing with her point. Harry knew better than that, anyway. He just had to pretend like he was accepting what advice she was giving him, even though he was ignoring it all.

"Something that the Order has been working on. Where are you three planning on running off to?"

He clenched and unclenched his fists. A pause grew between them, and he decided that it couldn't hurt to be honest. "I'm not entirely sure, though I wouldn't quite say either way. I wouldn't want to leave your family in danger, and Ron agrees with me."

"It took Ron nearly four years to figure out that he likes Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said.

Blinking back shock, Harry took a step backwards. Well, at least somebody had said it. Their exchanged glances finally made sense, and it was a sweet thought. He was glad that somebody had noticed it.

"But he's right about this. You have to admit it. Please, Mrs. Weasley, don't ask again about what we're doing."

She stared at him, then shifted to look back towards the crowd of people still dancing. Her head swiveled to locate an empty table, and she led him towards it, smiling and chatting to random guests as they moved.

As they sat down in vacant seats, she placed the paper down on the table, her rosy cheeks still pulled into a smile, though it thinned out as she spoke. "This is something that the Order has worked tirelessly on for the past few years. Project Guardian, it's called."

He didn't quite understand the sudden shift in conversation, but he wasn't going to complain. Anything to get her to stop badgering him about a plan that they didn't quite have.

"What is it?" Harry asked. He leaned forwards in his seat, glancing over the paper.

It clearly labelled the multiple layers of the Ministry of Magic, just like he expected. In the corner there were a list of other dense magic cities, which he inferred opened up into their own floor plans. The entirety of the map was written in very tidy script, and, like the Marauder's Map, had many different names floating around the offices.

"A highly sophisticated tracking device that we created. It was based off of the plans from past members of the Order. In fact, I believe your parents may have participated. I do think I noticed your father's handiwork. Bill, Minerva, and I have been working on it for the past few years. It's likely that Voldemort will begin to attack a more densely populated city soon," Mrs. Weasley explained.

Harry looked at one of the clusters of dots, all circled around an office labeled 'Minister for Magic'. Curiously enough, Rufus Scrimgeour was noticeably missing from that very office, with a person named Pius Thicknesse present instead.

"Mrs. Weasley," he began, observing the handiwork carefully.

"Yes?"

"I don't think the Minister is in his office anymore. I can't seem to find him anywhere."

"What?" Mrs. Weasley asked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"He isn't there. He isn't in his office; there's someone else there. Yaxley, I think. He's a – "

Mrs. Weasley, much to Harry's shock, let out a curse, reminding him that she was very clearly Ron's mother. She stood suddenly, moving deep into the crowd without another word. On the table rested 'Project Guardian', and he stared at it. After a moment, he pocketed it, frowning.

He attempted to trail after her, bobbing and weaving throughout the party. Alarm was present on his face, and a few people responded in kind. Even Fred moved out of his way, though he did make a joke regarding a bathroom. Harry shot him a dirty look, and nearly bowled over Hermione and Ron, who were still dancing.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked. She stopped moving, grabbing for his wrist. As their hands connected, Harry paused. "You seem to be in a rush."

"I am!" he said, trying to wrestle his arm back. She released him with a gasp, and he led his friends to where Mrs. Weasley was talking to Remus Lupin in hushed tones.

She looked at the them with a bit of distress, regarding Ron, Harry, and Hermione carefully. Then, after a moment, Mrs. Weasley disappeared back into the crowd, leaving them with Lupin. Harry took a step forward to follow her, but the werewolf held up a hand.

"No, stay." Remus Lupin's face was one of utmost misery, and Harry's heart fell. He was terrified of what it meant. Why wasn't the Minister in his office? And why was Yaxley there? Had they abducted the Minister?

"What's going on?" Ron asked, perturbed. He clearly wasn't enjoying his lack of knowledge. His brows were knitted together in a mixture of confusion and frustration. His dress robes were slightly askew, and he fixed them carelessly. "Seriously."

Lupin opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a flash of light that landed directly to the right of him. It formed the shape of a lynx, and when the Patronus spoke, it sounded like Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"The Minister is dead. The Ministry has fallen. We have only a few minutes. Activate the precautions and we will meet at the safe house."

The lynx disappeared immediately after, seeping into the air with a sizzle. Harry sharply inhaled, and Hermione made a sound that was a cross between a sob and a gasp. Ron, besides him, merely grunted. They all turned to Lupin, who simply nodded along with the message.

"We had a warning sign in place. It should only be a few seconds, and we'll all be off. The majority of us, at least. Ah, yes, that's the signal," he rambled to the trio, motioning towards his wife, who was now standing in the middle of the dance floor.

Everyone paid her mind, as she was standing on one of the tables, talking loudly. "Everyone! We will be evacuating the wedding shortly due to the death of the Minister for Magic. Those of you who wish to remain in their homes may Disapparate now, and we will be Portkeying others out in a few moments."

Shockingly, a few people chose to Disapparate immediately. Great-Aunt Muriel, Xenophilius Lovegood, and a few other Weasleys opted to do so, clearly intent on sticking the war out in the background. Harry resisted the urge to snort.

Tonks, still leading the crowd, proceeded to instruct them on where the Portkeys would be located, her voice carrying throughout the tent. "The centerpieces will activate on my count!" she was explaining, tripping as she moved to make her way to the nearest one.

Most followed her request without a thought, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione remained near the center of the room, unsure. It was a defining moment in their lives, a question that could put them on a different pathway. Should they go with the rest of the wedding? That way everyone was safe, and there would be no need to fear. They would have everything in order.

But with the chaos, they would be able to leave without another thought. Nobody would initially notice that they were missing. They were golden.

Clearly, all three of them were thinking the same thing. But out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley holding her finger above one of the vases. Her eyes were pleading.

"Five. Four."

Ron frowned. "Shouldn't we just go?"

"We can always leave from there, you know," Hermione added.

"Three. Two."

"We'll leave from there," Harry said. "We owe them that much."

They lunged for the nearest centerpieces, throwing their hands down when told.

"One. NOW!"