At three o'clock the following afternoon, Diana found herself waiting idly by the marquee for the guests. That morning had been one straight from a circus: everyone jostled through the narrowed corridors in panicked haste, polishing and cleaning and organizing until the tent was up and the tables, decorations, and chairs were set. The Weasleys, aided by the Delacours, Harry, Hermione, Diana, and Hagrid, managed to perfectly prepare the wedding with only one person crying the entire time (it was Mrs. Weasley, who dropped a vase. It shattered, and she burst into tears until her Ron said, "are you a witch or not?" She magically mended it, and it is currently sitting perfectly intact on top of one of the tables).

Her dress, which she had found in Hogsmeade some time ago for cheap, brushed her ankles. Ginny braided her hair around her head like a halo earlier that morning, and after many unsuccessful attempts, she managed to temporarily transfigure her Extended bag into a small black purse with a thin strap, barely noticeable at her side.

"Damn, Diana!" yelled Fred, and George accompanied it with a whistle. "Who knew you cleaned up nicely!"

She threw a very rude gesture toward them, and Ginny appeared at her side.

"Can you braid my hair?"

Diana nodded, stepping behind the girl. Ginny wore a pale pink dress that Fleur had chosen for the bridesmaids. Diana quickly plaited her long, orange hair down her back and tied it off, giving a girl a quick pat on the shoulder to alert that she was finished.

"When are people supposed to be coming?" yelled a voice from above. Ron Weasley poked his head out of his open window, peering down at them.

"Like, five minutes ago!" yelled Ginny.

His head disappeared, and in a few moments, Ron and Harry were tumbling out of the door.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Here!" they heard, and Hermione was hustling out of the door, clutching a purple beaded bag at her side.

"Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley, hastening to the small group they had formed in the yard. She shoved a small glass in his hand. "Drink."

He downed it whole, and in moments he began to morph. Where Harry Potter once stood, there was now a ginger, freckled boy with pudgy cheeks, resembling a typical Weasley relative.

Ron burst out laughing, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Mate, you look ridiculous!"

"It's better this than getting killed by Death Eaters," Harry grumbled, running an angry hand through his orange hair.

"Get ready, they're coming!"

At the sound of Mrs. Weasley's shrilly squeal, they all turned to the hillside, where brightly-colored figures were popping into view. It quickly grew until a mass of rainbow-colored people were treading through the path paved in their peculiar garden, the chattering growing and growing until it was impossible to listen to any one conversation.

"Excellent," said George, craning his neck so he could see deeper into the crowd. "I think I see a few Veela cousins. They'll need some help understanding our English customs. . . I'll look after them. . . "

"Not so fast, Lugless," called Fred, dodging a group of middle-aged women and stopping in front of a group of the Veela cousins. "Here--permettez-moi to assister vous," he said, and the girls giggled. George was left to deal with the middle-aged witches as his brother charmed the beautiful French girls.

"Awe, don't worry, George. . . I'm sure there are tons of fish who are into guys with only one ear in the sea!" Ron called after him. Before George disappeared into the crowd with the witches, he replied with the very same rude gesture Diana used just minutes ago. "Heard they had an entire stack of Chocolate Frogs hidden on the north-side of the tent," said Ron to them. "Wanna go raid it?"

Tonks called out to the red-haired Harry. "Uh, I'll meet you guys there," he said, and disappeared in the crowd. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, so they both shrugged and snuck around the tent, where a large amount of extra supplies and such had been tossed.

"George said it was near the cracked Gnome. . . I swear, if he lied to me--oh, wait, here they are!"

He pulled a chocolate frog from the bunch as evidence, and Diana immediately jumped next to him.

"Here, take these," Ron whisper-yelled, shoving more into her hands as she deposited each into her tiny, Extended purse. Soon, they had stolen ten, and they quickly ran away and out of sight before they could be caught.

"I've got to go meet up with the groomsmen," said Ron as they entered the full marquee. "I'll come find you guys later!"

He disappeared into the crowd, and Diana was left to watch the lively celebration with bright eyes.

"Oh, hello, Diana," said a whimsical voice. Luna Lovegood appeared next to her, large, odd earrings hanging from her ear and a bright yellow dress on top of her sheet-white skin. 

"Hello, Luna," she replied brightly. "You and your dad live just on the other side of the hill, right?"

"Yes," she answered dreamily. "We came for the wedding food. Well, see you later. . . "

The odd but endearing girl floated into the crowd.

Diana spotted Hermione, and she walked over. Ron appeared, then, too, aiding an old and scowling woman by the arm toward the table nearest Hermione.

". . . and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, is that Xenophilius Lovegood? He looks like an omelette. And who are you?" she barked at Diana. Now, the disguised Harry joined them.

"Diana Beauregard," she replied evenly. "And you are?"

The woman, oddly, only glared at the girl without answering.

"On with it, Ronald, find me a seat. I'm not getting any younger."

With a grimace, Ron trudged alongside her through the crowd.

"She's pleasant, isn't she?" mused Diana.

"Nightmare, Muriel is," said Ron, appearing next to them, Muriel-less. 

"Talking about Muriel?" George appeared next, having escaped from the witches. "Yeah, she just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat. I wish Uncle Billius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings."

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

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd towards the end."

The gave a short moment of silence for the late Uncle Billius.

The loud sound of trumpets rang in their ears, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. Ron went to the front near Bill and Charlie while Diana, Harry, and Hermione found a comfortable nook off to the side. In no time, the tent had fallen silent, and every attendee was seated comfortably in one of the many chairs. Like factions, there were certain sections dedicated to certain groups: near the front, Fleur's beautiful relatives took up a rather large chunk. Also in the front, there was a sea of red hair spanning at least three rows. There was another group of older witches and wizards, either old professors or friends of the family. Last, there was the small portion containing all Order members. Tonks and Lupin held hands near the edge, with Hagrid nearby. Some others, like Daedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones sat around them, too, and underneath this white marquee, they were all united.

It beautiful and joyous, as Bill stood to the front and Fred wolf-whistled at him. As Fleur and her father walked down the carpeted aisle, there was a collective sigh as they all admired her beauty. It was all smiles and tears, mostly from Mrs. Weasley, Madame Delacour, and Hagrid, and by the end of the bright ceremony, all thoughts of darkness had been cleansed from the minds of all who watched.

The moment they were pronounced husband and wife, the crowd once again turned into a wild party. They chairs and podium were all magically swept to the side, and loud music was playing from the live band at the front. People danced and laughed and sang, and in a shadowed and lonely corner, Diana watched on with pride and sadness.

"Le feu le plus couvert est le plus ardent."

Behind her, a beautiful brunette girl waded her way to Diana's corner. Veela, judging by the radiant glow of her skin, but instead of icy-blonde hair, it was a chocolate brown that contrasted heavily against her other cousins. The girl, no older than Diana, took a seat next to her.

"Eet means 'the love that eez the most hidden eez the strongest.' I could not 'elp but notice you looking at zat boy over there--" she pointed to a red-haired boy with freckles, talking with an old man at a far table. It was Harry, talking with a man she didn't recognize.

Diana shook her head, a small smile on her face.

"It's not like that," she said quietly. "He's just a very good friend."

"Zee look on your face says different."

Diana smiled lightly, watching Harry listen intently to what the old man was saying.

"It's impossible. It's all just so. . . complicated. Something like that. . . it just could never happen," said Diana, giving a slight shake of her head. The girl gave a small smile.

"But why not?"

Diana halted, considering. Her life was destined to end; which, to everyone around her, would leave ruins in its wake. Harry Potter did not deserve to lose her in the end. He will have already lost so much, she couldn't bear the thought of him losing her like that, too.

And maybe, she sometimes wondered if she thought it was impossible because she believed he deserved better.

She chose her words carefully, her eyes closing for just a second. "I'm going to be leaving soon, permanently. He's lost so much, and I. . . I just don't want to be one more thing to lose."

"But you are already friends, correct?" the girl asked, puzzled.

Diana smiled lightly. "Yeah. Really good friends, actually."

"If you are already friends and you leave, eet izn't like it will save 'im from missing you. Sparing 'is feelings will do 'im no good, in the end. You will still be gone, and 'e will still miss you."

Diana's hands subconsciously clasped together, her fingers wringing. She knew, though, this girl was right. Harry will miss Diana no matter what, and anything she could possibly try to ease his pain will ultimately be useless.

Her friends, her new family that she's found; they will all miss her. She will die, and no matter how much she wished she could just sink into the shadows, she has grown to care. She has grown to love. Her life used to consist merely of the concerns of the war. Never had she ever thought she would grow to care about people, and have friends who loved her, and to have a home in which she belonged.

Never in her life had she ever thought she could be human, but she did. Never in her life did she ever think she could have people who cared for her; but she did.

She always believed she would be another faceless ghost, born a warrior and die a silent hero. She always believed she would be another passing face in a crowd, secrets hidden deep within but on surface level, she was just so mundane. She never thought she'd ever know love or friendship.

And that, she knew, was what made her so strong. Her father, blinded by hatred and superiority would never know such a thing as natural friendship beyond the bounds of mere fate. He could never love naturally, grown from seeds of respect, not destiny. He was the weak one.

"Where are you going, anyway?" the girl asked after Diana did not speak for some time.

She chose her words with precision.

"I'll be off to meet some old friends, very far away from here," she said quietly. A dry, sad laugh escaped her lips. "I'll mend what I need to mend, and then I'll be off to see people who I haven't seen in awhile."

Old friends. The words rolled off of her tongue like the sour kick of a lemon. Old friends indeed.

"What's your name?" asked Diana, turning her head to look at the girl. The girl's loose brown hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes glinted with something so much deeper than anything Diana had seen.

The girl gave her a big, dazzling smile.

"Clara," she said. "What eez yours?"

"I'm Diana," she said. "It's very nice to meet you Clara."

"Eet eez nice to meet you as well, Diana," she replied with a smile. "Are you 'appy to be able to see your old friends, soon?"

The question made her halt for a moment.

It was such a bittersweet question that gave her such a large and significant pause. To be asked in such away made her furrow her eyebrows and a lump formed in her throat, though she quickly swallowed it down.

"I don't know," she said quietly, her mind far from the crowded marquee she was sitting in. "I'll be happy to see my friends, but sad to leave the ones I have now."

"You cannot visit these friends after you leave?" asked Clara.

"The place I'm going is a place that you don't leave."

"Who ever made that rule? Eet eez stupid, if you ask me. You can do whatever you'd like."

Diana bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

"I wish very much that it was that simple."

Clara gave a sigh, though it sounded elegant and airy like a soft breeze. They listened to the nice, happy melody playing through the air, and Diana savored this moment of peace, for she would never feel something like this again.

"I 'ope you find your peace," she said finally. The music seemed to dim, and soon it was just the two of them, two new friends who felt as if they'd known each other forever. "And you will, Diana. I am sure of eet. Everyone finds peace eventually, even if eet eez in death."

And Clara didn't know how right she was.

"You're wise," said Diana. "You seem different than the rest of your family."

Clara gave a small laugh.

"My mother was a Veela, but my father was a very gifted Seer. He died when I was a child."

"My father died when I was very young, too."

And the more Diana thought about it, the more she considered it to be true.

"'Ow do you know the Weasleys?" asked Clara.

"I'm very good friends with their son," she said, her eyes trained on Luna Lovegood doing an odd, whimsical dance on the dance floor. "I stay here often."

"Eet's eez wonderful," said Clara. "Zee 'ouse, eet eez so 'appy and nice."

Diana gave her a light smile. "I love it, too."

Clara looked at her for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed as she thought.

"You're different," she said. "There eez something in your eyes. You are strong and brave, more so than anyone I've met."

They fell into a comfortable silence once more.

"Zis pain you feel," said Clara quietly, "eet will not last forever. Zee world has a funny keenness for 'armony."

Like a slap to the face, Diana sat, stunned. Her mind flashed to last year, in a meeting in Dumbledore's office. She told him she was scared.

"The world has a funny keenness for harmony."

That is what he said.

The world has a funny keenness for harmony.

"It depends," whispered Diana, her eyes welling with tears she couldn't fight. "It depends how long forever is."

"Ah, but forever eez not a measurement of time!" exclaimed Clara, throwing her hands up with passionate excitement. "Forever eez the moment in which you feel like you 'ave lived. Your forever can be one second or one year or one million, but the amount of time you have makes no difference. Once you truly live, then your forever will finally be done."

"I don't know how," said Diana.

"But of course you know how! You are living right now, are you not?"

"Yeah, but being alive is different than living--"

"Exactly. So, Diana, what I am telling you to do eez live."

As the last word came out of her mouth, a large ball of light consumed the room, floating in the middle like floating atop a pool of water. Out came the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, his deep voice blanketing the silent crowd.

"The Ministry has fallen. The Minister is dead. They are coming."

And then, they came. Men masked in black, wands held tightly toward the innocent party goers.

Like magnets, Diana, Ron, Harry, and Hermione found each other.

With one last look before the four of them Disapparated out of harm's way, she saw Clara slumped in her chair, her eyes gazing into a world that they knew not.

And as Diana was swept from the bloodbath, she hoped that when she sees her friends in the far away place soon, Clara would be there to welcome her too.

CAMEO MADE BY @clarawriting!!! I LOVE THIS CHAPTER OH MY GOD