Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1572: Harry's Seventeenth Birthday

However, the garden looked rather forlorn without its usual contingent of capering gnomes.

Besides these visible changes, the magical aura surrounding the Burrow had grown intense, especially noticeable to Evan.

Over the past year, many security enchantments had been placed upon the Burrow by both the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic, bringing its security level to something comparable, in certain respects, to Hogwarts itself. The most direct manifestation of this increased security was that it was no longer possible for anybody to travel by magic directly into the place.

Mr. Weasley had therefore gone to meet the Delacours on top of a nearby hill, where they were to arrive by Portkey.

The first sound of their approach was an unusually high-pitched laugh, which turned out to be coming from Mr. Weasley, who appeared at the gate moments later, laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman in long, leaf-green robes, who could only be Fleur’s mother. She was stunningly beautiful, even more beautiful than Fleur herself, and more mature, possessing a unique charm that was impossible to look away from.

But Madame Delacour wasn’t a Veela, nor did she have Veela blood; Fleur and Gabrielle’s grandmother was.

In other words, Monsieur Delacour was the one with Veela blood.

Next to Mr. Weasley, Monsieur Delacour was nowhere near as attractive as his wife; he was a head shorter and extremely plump, with a little, pointed black beard. However, he looked good-natured. Bouncing toward Mrs. Weasley on high-heeled boots, he kissed her twice on each cheek, leaving her flustered.

“You ’ave been to much trouble, taking care of Fleur and Gabrielle,” he said in a deep voice. “Fleur tells us you ’ave been working very ’ard.”

“Oh, it’s been nothing, nothing!” trilled Mrs. Weasley. “No trouble at all!”

Ron relieved his feelings by aiming a kick at a gnome who was peering out from behind one of the new Flutterby bushes.

Hermione, however, whispered to Evan that Monsieur Delacour looked very gentlemanly and well-mannered.

Evan took a closer look and could only conclude that the magical Veela bloodline had indeed worked — only this time, from male to female.

“Dear lady!” said Monsieur Delacour, still holding Mrs. Weasley’s hand between his own two plump ones and beaming. “We are most honored at the approaching union of our two families! Let me present my wife, Apolline.”

Madame Delacour glided forward and stooped to kiss Mrs. Weasley too.

“Enchantée,” she said. “Your ’usband ’as been telling us such amusing stories!”

Mr. Weasley gave a maniacal laugh; Mrs. Weasley threw him a look, upon which he became immediately silent and assumed an expression appropriate to the sickbed of a close friend.

After a round of greetings, Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, “Well, come in!”

She ushered the Delacours into the house, with many “No, please!”s and “After you!”s and “Not at all!”s.

Gabrielle and her mother chattered in rapid French, and Evan caught some of it; she seemed to be saying something about how wonderful the Burrow was.

Then, perhaps she mentioned Evan, because Madame Delacour quickly turned her gaze to him and smiled.

After lunch that day, she came over to thank Evan and Hermione for taking care of Gabrielle during the holidays.

She also brought everyone gifts from France, some very French delicacies.

In short, everyone had a very good impression of the Delacours.   

The Delacours, it soon transpired, were helpful, pleasant guests.

They were pleased with everything and keen to assist with the preparations for the wedding.

Monsieur Delacour pronounced everything from the seating plan to the bridesmaids’ shoes “Charmant!”

He wasn’t picky or raised any objections, which pleased Mrs. Weasley beyond belief.

Madame Delacour was most accomplished at household spells and had the oven properly cleaned in a trice, greatly easing everyone’s workload.

On the downside, the Burrow was not built to accommodate so many people, especially after best man Charlie returned.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now sleeping in the sitting room, having shouted down Monsieur and Madame Delacour’s protests and insisted they take their bedroom.

Charlie shared a room with Bill; Gabrielle moved in to share Percy’s old room with her sister; Hermione, Ginny, and Elaine shared a room, and Evan, Harry, and Ron were crammed into the attic, taking up so much space that even Dobby the house-elf had to share the attic with the ghoul.

If Sirius or Lupin came, they wouldn’t be able to stay the night and would have to leave.

The house was now packed everywhere, all the time.

This prevented Evan and the others from getting together to discuss plans.

Mrs. Weasley had been keeping a close eye on them since the last incident.

In desperation, to escape both her watchfulness and the overcrowded house, they volunteered to feed the chickens.

“But she still won’t leave us alone!” snarled Ron. His temper had grown increasingly volatile as the wedding approached, and he attributed it largely to Mrs. Weasley’s pressure. Just earlier, their second attempt at a meeting in the yard was foiled by the appearance of Mrs. Weasley carrying a large basket of laundry in her arms.

“Oh, good, you’ve fed the chickens,” she called as she approached them. “We’d better shut them away again before the men arrive tomorrow … to put up the tent for the wedding,” she explained, pausing to lean against the henhouse. She looked exhausted. “Millamant’s Magic Marquees … they’re very good, Bill’s escorting them. … You’d better stay inside while they’re here, Harry. I must say it does complicate organizing a wedding, having all these security spells around the place.”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry humbly.

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear!” said Mrs. Weasley at once. “I didn’t mean — well, your safety’s much more important! Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you how you want to celebrate your birthday, Harry. Seventeen, after all, it’s an important day. …”

“I don’t want a fuss,” said Harry quickly, envisaging the additional strain this would put on them all. “Really, Mrs. Weasley, just a normal dinner would be fine. … It’s the day before the wedding. …”

“Oh, well, if you’re sure, dear. We’ll all be there. Sirius should be coming too. He’ll definitely not want to miss your coming-of-age birthday. I’ll invite Remus and Tonks, shall I? And Hagrid, of course. Is there anyone else you’d like to invite?”

“No, your arrangement is really wonderful!” said Harry. “But please don’t go to loads of trouble.”

Translating_Wizard

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