In the Eyes of the Beholder

Kingsley pressed his palms on his forehead, sighing as the cool fingers made contact with his heated forehead. He attempted to ignore the howler sounding in the other room, feeling guilty at letting young Weasley open them, but he decided that it was the best course of action after the rather unpleasant thirty-fifth one delivered to his desk. There must have been hundreds by now. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, and great aunts had all found it necessary to share their sentiments at a rather loud decibel.

He needed to do something. Perhaps something in the eye of the public that would make it easier for them to accept the new changes. He couldn’t use Hermione and young Malfoy just yet. That would take patience and careful planning, especially if he didn’t want to take credit in the matter.

The public needed something to talk about other than the law. Kingsley resolved himself to thinking that it may be time to visit Lucius Malfoy again.

***

Hermione followed the lavender cloak past the grand staircase and towards the Fifth Floor Corridor. She could hear Malfoy’s stiff footsteps behind her as they followed Professor Grubbly-Plank past rows of somber portraits. They stopped at the portrait of a young woman with a sharp nose and a high forehead, nestled among three portraits of large beefy men.

Hermione studied the woman as she studied her back. Her straight long brown hair elongated her long face and long nose, making the young woman seem sullen and aristocratic. Her sharp blue eyes appraised Hermione’s large hair and common eyes, as if to say you don’t belong here. Instead, she turned to Grubbly-Plank and said in a sweet, soft voice:

“Password?”

“Temet nosce”

Know thyself, thought Hermione, was an odd password compared to the various plants and animals that the Fat Lady used as her passwords. She wondered whether it had magical significance, perhaps the family moto of the young woman. She made a mental note to look it up in the library when she was there.

“Here is where I leave you. Your belongings have already been brought to your rooms, and the

The portrait slid to the side, revealing a wooden archway leading into a large common room. Hermione marveled at the opulence of the room: cream silk couches around a massive fireplace, a large crystal chandelier hanging on top of the mahogany coffee table, cream settees lining large bay windows, and the back wall lined with ancient mahogany book cases which touched the ceilings.

Hermione felt uneasy. The room was nothing like her surroundings had ever been. She noticed Malfoy climbing the large staircase that wrapped around the back wall. He seemed much more at ease with the finesse of his surroundings than she did, and she scoffed internally at his indifferent demeanor.

She went to join him, but not without first running her fingers over the ancient leather spines of the books that lined the back wall. They comforted her. Silent and steadfast, they were friends that provided no judgment and offered a world of knowledge. She could survive with them, even if her stuck-up, silver-spooned fiancé decided not to show her any attention.

The stairs, she soon discovered, led to two rooms, a nursery and a large bathroom, all with the same grand décor of the common room. Her room, for her trunk lay at the foot of the bed, was larger than any dormitory she had ever seen at Hogwarts.

The walls were painted a light cream with gold accents, owning to the aristocratic French feeling of then entire apartment. Heavy gilded mirrors lay on either side of the room, and large windows covered the back walls, draped with heavy silk curtains. A heavy-set bed, looking overstuffed with pillows, lay against the wall with pretty Crookshanks purring against the silk covers.

The entire feel of the room felt heavy and oppressive, causing Hermione to open the balcony doors and step into the cool fresh air.

Malfoy stood on the other balcony, his hands behind his back and his expression stoic as he stared towards the sky. He turned and looked at Hermione as she entered the other balcony.

Blue-grey eyes looked into brown, neither willing to look away, to back down first.

They spoke nothing to each other because they had nothing to say. Their fates were decided, and they had resigned to accept them. For the good of their world…

***

Percy Weasley was, for the first time in his life, utterly unsure of himself. He knew it had to be done, which is precisely why he was dressed in his new and stiff dress robes that itched in all the wrong places.

After making tables and charts, pacing, consulting his mother (he cringed at the thought of how Molly Weasley held him to her bosom while exclaiming what a big man her little son had become, with tears threatening to escape her eyes), pacing, consulting Witch Weekly (which he refused to admit, of course), and pacing again, Percy concluded he should rather do it sooner than later. Kingsley needed support, and Percy knew he was doing the right thing.

However he may try, the gnawing in his stomach would not be reasoned with. It could be said that Weasley stomachs had a mind of their own.

Percy fingered the small box in his pocket. It contained a dainty platinum ring, not goblin-made, but a family heirloom nonetheless. He would give it to Audrey Hilland tonight, if she would take it. Percy had planned out the perfect moment, when he was staring deep into her eyes (as Witch Weekly had deemed appropriate) over their wine and fancy dinner. But what if she said no? Perhaps it’s too soon and he should forget about it.

Before Percy could delve further into self-denial, the woman in question walked into the restaurant.

She was the prettiest Percy had ever seen her. Her long brown hair twisted into soft brown curls, falling softly onto her pale blue dress. She smiled her slow sweet smile when she saw him. He wondered at how she could feel so at ease around everyone, not afraid to show her affections. It was a quality he found endearing, especially since it was a quality he himself lacked.

He stuttered a quick hello as she kissed him on the cheek, and waited through the small talk (as was social propriety). Their appetizers arrived and he shifted the food around his plate, unable to eat because of the knot in his stomach.

The question was dying to get through his lips, but he pushed it back with wine. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to it to be over, wanted to know her answer. The wine on a particularly empty stomach was making him lightheaded.

Audrey looked at him questioningly with her bright blue eyes, and looking into them, he broke. The question came tumbling out before he was able to bite it back.

“Audrey, will you marry me?”
“What?”
“Audrey, you are beautiful, smart, kind… just wonderful. I can’t stop thinking about you. You support me in everything that I try, but you are not afraid to question my motives and decisions. You make me think in a new light and appreciate life, even when I think I’m too busy. I love you for what you have taught me. I love you for the confidence you give me by being at my side. I love you and respect you, and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of my life. Will you be my wife?”

Percy was on one knee, holding out the small open box with diamond encrusted band glinting through the dark fabric. But Audrey had her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking, and his heart dropped as he waited, counting the seconds that passed painfully slowly.

She held out her hand, nodding yes, the tears swimming in her eyes. He placed the ring on her third finger and she flew into his arms, covering his mouth with feverish kisses.

Percy felt at home…

***

The Daily Prophet (Page 2)

Upcoming Magical Weddings

by Rita Skeeter

After the Ministry’s passing of a most indecent law, we have had the pleasure of uncovering several new engagements, most notably that of the Minister of Magic’s Junior Assistant, Percy Ignatius Weasley, and Miss Audrey Hilland from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Mr. Weasley, though young for his office has proceeded through the ranks of Ministry officials with what some call ‘Pure Determination.’ This writer however questions whether the new Minister of Magic, a good family friend and fellow member of the Order of the Pheonix, did not, in fact, show favoritism to young Mr. Weasley from a pool of very capable applicants. Although Mr. Weasley does come from a famous pureblood family, which has fought admirably in both of the Wizarding Wars, Mr. Weasley had barely any experience for the post, acquiring it soon after being Head Boy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Ms. Hilland, although having no seemingly interesting qualities, seems excited at the prospect of marrying a high Ministry official from a famous wizarding family, as shown by her accepting the proposal in the picture below.

As always, this smart, talented, and beautiful writer wishes the new couple lifelong happiness as they begin this new and difficult journey in their lives.