Chapter Text
Hampstead Lands, Nature’s Cathedral - 1195
It was a beautiful fall day, with red, orange, and gold leaves gleaming brightly throughout the natural cathedral, a defined space made of towering trees, flowering vines, and strategically placed boughs.
A man of God stood before hundreds of gathered celebrants. His voice echoed around the forest, warming the space with his joyous vigor and the fond timber of his speech.
The wedding was in full swing and the good Friar was regaling the congregation with (mostly exaggerated) tales of the couple. The well-wishers were laughing in the appropriate places though the couple looked a bit put out at the delay in the ceremony, anxious as most intra-nuptial were.
“With the power vested in me, by God's holy church, I say any man who has a reason why these two should not be joined, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”
Friar Hagrid paused, his eyes quickly scanning over to Dean, Ron, and Harry on one side and Ginny, Lavender, and Fleur’s cousin Gabrielle on the other. The wedding party turned to the audience, hands resting threateningly on the swords and daggers at their hips as their eyes searched for troublesome objectors.
No one made a peep and after a tense few moments, the gathered all laughed at the faux threat.
Catching his eye, Ginny winked at Harry, whose blush rivaled the red leaves falling down around them.
Just out of sight, horses could be heard approaching, their hooves thundering ever closer.
“Then I now pronounce you…”
Before the Friar could finish his pronouncement, several men on horseback burst through the trees, led by a tall, imposing figure.
“Hold, I speak!”
Awed whispers broke out, the guests all staring at the red tabards the men wore, emblazoned with three gold lions lined up vertically.
Passant Guardant in Pale.
The Royal Arms.
Little Ron loudly, and unnecessarily, stated, “It's the King!”
Hermione respectfully bowed, and Fleur curtsied with the guests quickly following suit, some more smoothly than others, with the exception of Dean, who stood tall.
Fleur’s face lit up. “Albus!”
Expression stern, King Albus the Lionheart dismounted and continued, “I will not allow this wedding to proceed.”
Hermione gulped, fidgeting unsurely at Fleur’s side. “My Lord…“
The King fixed her with a sharp look, then turned to Fleur, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Unless… I'm allowed to give one of the brides away!”
The frozen crowd laughed, relief rippling through those gathered.
“You look radiant, cousin.” He kissed Fleur’s cheeks.
Fleur was overcome with joy at seeing the King before her, safe and sound.
“Oh, Albus.”
The cousins embraced, the years since they had last done so fading away in the exultation of their reunion.
Once they parted, Hermione offered a hand. “We are deeply honored by Your Majesty's presence.”
Redirecting his gaze to the figure standing at attention next to Fleur, King Albus clasped her hand, a twinkle in his eyes.
“It is I who am honored, Lady Hampstead. Thanks to you I still have a throne.”
Realizing that he just interrupted a wedding and everyone was staring at them, waiting, the King inclined his head as he stepped back.
“Friar, proceed!”
The King’s words broke the Friar out of his silent fanboying and the large man acknowledged the order with a head tilt and quiet, “My liege”.
“Oh… yes… um… right. Erm… By the power vested in me by God's holy church, aaaaand by the representative authority of His Royal Highness, Albus, The Lionheart, King of England… I now pronounce you… married!”
The women beamed at each other until the Friar none-too-quietly stage whispered to Hermione, “You may kiss the bride.”
Sending an eye-roll at Hagrid, Hermione said, “I know that.”
Drawing back the sheer veil her new bride wore, Hermione cradled Fleur’s face in her calloused hands and gently brought their lips together in absolute reverence.
All assembled gave shouts of jubilee. Again, Ron was the loudest, bellowing out, “Hooray!!!”
Fleur grabbed Hermione by the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper.
The King stood behind them, arms held high in celebration, laughing at his cousin’s enthusiasm in kissing her new wife.
Gruffly, Friar Hagrid waved his hands at the still-kissing couple.
“Now, knock it off! We're wasting good celebration time!” He laughed, a deep burst of joy that shook his entire body.
The elated couple broke their embrace and turned to the congregation. As Hermione turned, Dean leaned close to whisper. “My friend, a word of advice... Ride her better than you do your horse.” She punched his shoulder, causing him to take a quick step to stay upright.
Red-faced, Hermione took Fleur’s hand and they started down the aisle. As they continued past the smiling congregation, Fleur spoke softly out of the side of her mouth, for her wife’s ears only.
“Don’t worry, my love. I am an amazing equestrian.” Fleur winked.
Hermione laughed, her happiness beaming out of her like the sun.
As they stepped out of the makeshift cathedral into the bright light of day, small, hand-held wedding bells chimed and a crowd of supporters cheered.
At a signal from Little Ron, seven ex-outlaws shot flaming arrows into the sky creating an impressive arch over the couple. The arrows landed on suspended clay pots, exploding the containers and raining down multi-colored confetti that perfectly matched the gorgeously colored trees all around them.
It was quite a sight to behold.
Allah did indeed love wondrous variety.