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Chapter 3 : Wedding Crashing 101
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"You look gorgeous, Hermione! Ron's going to drop dead when he sees you!," Luna squealed, adjusting Hermione's dress while she was at it. It was a relatively modest white strapless gown that still managed to show off her figure.
"That's the point, isn't it?," Hermione beamed. Ginny was mere feet away, getting fitted into her own dress. Not quite as modest as Hermione's, but still decent. It had been a great idea, the double wedding.
Fifty meters away, outside the chapel in the middle of Ottery St. Catchpole, a team of Black Guardsmen gathered. They were heavily armed, especially for two platoons, and for a good reason, too. It would have to be a quick, violent raid, carefully planned and executed as to give the targets no chance to do anything foolish.
The men were standing at the ready, waiting for the go signal. A Guardsmen with Brigadier pips walked amongst them, preparing for his obligatory pep talk. He had a confident air around him, and he carried a copy of the Daily Prophet. He pretended to be scanning over it when he spoke.
"Alright, men. According to this publication, which I trust as far as I can throw a Chimaera, there's going to be a wedding today. A double wedding, in fact. The wedding of the century, as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, marries Ginny Weasley, his longtime sweetheart. Also, Hermione Granger marries Ron Weasley, the love of her life. I'd first like to know what the editing staff was on when this was approved, but we've already got a team on that."
The men chuckled nervously. Their Brigadier had a knack for making most situations humorous, but he only did it when there was going to be an especially delicate mission. In this case, it would be complicated by the fact that they would be raiding a church full of civilians.
"Now, as you know, I hate weddings. Not sure if it's because they're just such cheery occasions, or if it's because the last woman I proposed to turned out to be an assassin being paid to kill me. Either way, we're going to crash this wedding."
The Brigadier's voice and tone suddenly turned serious, as he relayed the mission details. Who would enter from where, what they would do, and the identification of the objectives.
"Now, remember, this is an extremely diplomatically delicate operation. I don't want any casualties. Clean in and out. Your targets are Ronald and Ginerva Weasley. We'd suspected them of using Amortentia for years, but we couldn't prove it. An informant has provided the proof we need to make an arrest. The launch word is 'niffler.' You are to assume that they are armed. Understood?"
There was a chorus of "Yes sir!"s, followed by the bootsteps of sixty Guardsmen taking their positions overlooking the church, and some on top of the church. Now, all there was to do was wait.
"And whoever thinks that these two couples should not be wed, please speak now or forever hold your peace."
One man stood up. The Black Guard informant, a man by the name of Fred Weasley. He had long suspected foul play, but it was not until he had discovered the Amortentia potion bottles in Ron's pillowcase, and the notes stuffed into Ginny's, did he finally have proof. The Aurors, that joke of a police force, wouldn't open a case. It seemed like a small miracle that a Black Guard Brigadier on leave had entered his joke shop that same day, looking for a few novelties for his office.
There were gasps all throughout the church, along with murderous glances from the two youngest Weasleys.
"You man, please state the reason of your objection."
"I had thought that they were truly in love, Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione. Then I found this," he produced a page of Ginny's notes, reading selections of it "I refused to believe it, but this note shows that they're little more than nifflers..."
The sound of shattering glass cut off Fred, as the stained-glass windows up above shattered, and ziplines dropped down. Guardsmen began sliding down them, adorned in their distinctive black combat gear. The people who recognized the uniforms began screaming. So did the ones that didn't recognize them.
The front door splintered and shattered in a thousand pieces moments later, as another Guardsman kicked it down. He wore Brigadier pips, and was obviously the one in charge, as he was shouting orders to the others.
Ron and Ginny, seeing that their plan had been foiled, tried to fight back. Ron, with his bare hands. Ginny, to everyone's surprise, pulled a pistol out of her bouquet. Apparently, the effectiveness of guns against wands was a message that wasn't lost on Wizarding Britain.
There was a shout of "Gun! Gun!," as several Guardsmen surged forward. Ginny aimed and fired two clumsy one-handed shots, one of which went wide and the other of which bounced off a Guardsman's armor and buried itself in the floor. She prepared to fired a third, taking the time to steady her breathing and plant both feet firmly on the ground when a Guardsmen appeared in front of her. He swung the butt of his gun, knocking the pistol out of her hand. With a few deft motions, he threw her to the ground and secured her hands with plastic ties.
Ron put up a little more of a fight, but not much. Robert found himself dealing with the rather angry redhead, as other Guardsmen moved in to secure Harry and Hermione, along with the other civilians. The redhead rushed towards him, only to find Robert's foot in his face. He reeled back, only to charge again. The vampire, much faster and more agile than the redhead, deftly dodged, and elbowed the man in the back. The redhead, refusing to give up, whether it be out of anger, stupidity, or the foolish belief that he could take on the Guardsmen, though the latter two were virtually synonymous, charged again. Robert threw a punch that sent him flying down the aisle, before another Guardsmen caught, subdued, and secured him.
The raid had taken little more than five minutes, and was a complete success, from a tactical point of view. The messy followup, however, took a little while longer. Amortentia antidotes had to be administered, panicking crowds had to be calmed, financial compensation had to be issued, and prisoners had to be handed over to the Aurors.
The two redheads being arrested protested as they were being hauled into the dropship, placing blame on one another, in some futile hope to somewhat lessen their inevitable punishment. Robert answered all their protests with a single remark, "Yeah, yeah, tell that to the judge. Hope you got one hell of a lawyer, too."
"And so, that's how I happen to know your Defense and Transfiguration teachers, go figure," Robert shrugged, as he surveyed the class before him. He had been invited to Hogwarts to give a lecture on the Vampire-Lycan conflict, and he was pretty sure several of the students were expecting a lecture by some vampire who lived at the same time as their great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandparents. Basically, a slightly less dead version of Professor Binns. He had dispelled that notion the moment he began passing around bits of his kit and showing them pictures.
He could hear audible groans when he dismissed the class. He wasted no time, reorganizing eveything he had bought with him, nad making sure nobody had tried to make off with anything. He still had one more lecture to give. His work, however, was interrupted by the sound of two sets of footsteps.
"Out of all the stories, you had to tell that one? At least you had the decency not to crash the second wedding."
Robert looked up, to see the two Professor Potters of Hogwarts standing in the doorway. Both had an amused expression on their faces, and Robert noticed that Hermione was rubbing her slightly swollen stomach.
"Bloody hell. Didn't you say you were done having kids when I last came five years ago? How many is it now? Five? Six?"
Robert just chuckled, "Bloody hell. You two waste no time, do you?"
"General Morgan? What happened to the Weasleys?"
Robert quickly whirled around, and saw a Fourth Year poking his head in through the door, along with half the previous class.
"Okay, for one, it's 'Brigadier'. I have one star, a General has four. But I'll let you go this time," he said that in a half-serious, half-joking tone, "But, to answer your question, the rest of the Weasley family moved on, disowning their two youngest, whom are still incarcerated in Azkaban. By the time they get out, well, they'll be too old to remember everything that went down that day."
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