The champagne flutes floated around to top up the glasses once more as everyone sat back down at the end of Ron's speech.

"I thought he did really well," said Artemis, holding her glass aloft for one of the bottles to fill, "especially as he was obviously so nervous about it."

Charlie eyed his youngest brother sceptically. "Was he?"

"Yes."

"Well, you'd know. I just would have preferred it with a few less anecdotes."

"I thought they were quite funny anecdotes."

"Yeah, they were." Charlie shrugged. "I just don't think we all needed to know quite so much about the bloke who's going to be shagging my little sister later."

"I always thought people stopped having sex after they got married," Artemis said, and on Charlie's other side, Kingsley Shacklebolt let out a deep reverberating chuckle.

"The number of redheads in the room might suggest otherwise," he laughed, leaning forward to make eye contact with Artemis, who grinned.

Charlie grimaced and shook his head, and Artemis nudged his shoulder with her forehead.

"Lighten up, Charlie," she giggled. She raised her glass to her lips and added under her breath: "Hypocrite."

Charlie pulled a face at her and put his own glass on the table so that he could poke her in the ribcage. He steeled himself for her retaliation, but didn't need to. His father had stood up and was hitting his own champagne glass with a teaspoon.

The room fell quiet, and Arthur Weasley pointed his wand to his throat.

"Sonorus," he said, and his voice became louder, as he introduced himself to the wedding guests. "Good afternoon, everyone. For those of you who don't know, my name is Arthur, and I'm the father of Ginevra and Ron, along with several other red-headed young men, but they're all less important today."

"Oi!" a male voice heckled from a nearby table. Charlie smiled, recognising the voice as that of George.

"Today is all about Ginny — and Harry, of course, but we can talk about him later," Arthur continued, all too used to being disrupted after over thirty years of fatherhood. "Now, most of you are probably aware that by the time Ginny came along, my lovely wife Molly and I were old hats as far as parenting is concerned, but there were still certain things that we were not prepared for.

"Firstly, up until then we'd only had boys. There's nothing quite like the panic of a father taking your daughter out in public for the day and her telling you that she needs to go for a wee. Bill, you have this to look forward to," he added, looking across to the table where Bill was sitting with Victoire on his lap. "Luckily, Ginny's always been an independent sort of girl, so she had no problem walking off to go by herself, leaving me to worry about her and feel as if she were already growing up too fast. Not that she knew, of course. She wasn't worried in the slightest. She was fearless.

"That's the other thing that I wasn't prepared for: Ginny herself. Anyone who has met our boys will know that Molly and I have a habit of raising children that are either too clever for their own good, too stubborn for their own good—"

"He means you," whispered Artemis.

"No, he doesn't," Charlie whispered back.

"— or just too much trouble for their own good. Ginevra is all three of those things, and much more. It's no wonder that she's managed to achieve so much even at the young age she is now. Every day, she does something else that makes me get that same feeling as I did watching the back of her little head walk off that day, and to make me proud to call myself her father.

"The third and final thing that I was unprepared for when I became Ginny's father, was just how much love I had for her. It's the most incredible thing about parenthood: how, even if you've gone through the process six times before, you still are overwhelmed by the love you have for your children, and surprised by the fact that you even had that much love in you. It's a very strange thing; you find that same impossible amount of love over and over and over again." Arthur paused, and took a deep breath. Charlie wondered for a second if he was about to see his father cry, but then Arthur smiled. "And then, in what must be one of the cruelest tricks of nature, your children get older, and they start finding people that they love more than they love you."

Next to her husband, Molly Weasley had started dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Charlie watched as Ron's fiancée nudged him with her elbow and jerked her head in the direction of their mother, and Ron reached over and patted her on the shoulder, somewhat awkwardly.

"It's sad, at first," Charlie's father continued, "but not for long. Because, if they choose well, you end up digging even deeper into the endless caverns of your heart, and finding love for those people as well, for the simple reason that they love your child just as much as you do, and make them happier than you could ever wish to.

"Which brings us nicely on to Harry. I did say I'd be talking about him, as well. Now, all my children have done very well when it comes to choosing their partners, but Ginny managed to pick Harry out of the crowd at a very young age. I guess they don't call him the Chosen One for nothing."

There was a quiet titter of laughter across the room, and Harry Potter closed his eyes behind the round frames of his glasses and looked down at the table. His bride squeezed his forearm gently and whispered something into his ear that no one else could have heard. When she faced forward again, both bride and groom were stifling giggles. Charlie smiled. Ginny really did look happier than he'd ever seen her.

"Now, I've already mentioned that Ginny is too stubborn for her own good, much like a few other young people in this room," said Arthur, with a knowing smile. He looked over in the direction of their table, and added, "Don't worry, I won't be naming any names, Charlie."

The laughter that echoed through the room was louder that time. Artemis flashed him a knowing grin.

"Told you so," she said. He gently batted her across the back of her head. He obviously hadn't meant to hurt her, but she winced.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered, realising that he'd just hit the exact part of her head that had hit the wall not long earlier. Artemis pursed her lips.

"Oh, you will be."

"Anyway," Arthur was saying, oblivious to their antics, "our Ginny being the stubborn girl that she is, I knew even then that it was only a matter of time before Harry chose her, too. Maybe that's why it was so easy for us to accept him as one of our own all those years ago. Molly and I make no secret of the fact that we've always loved Harry like yet another son, and I'm so happy that today, we get to officially call him just that.

"I know that I've been rambling for some time, and Molly's going into a state of shock that I've managed to talk for this long without even saying the word 'Muggle'... Oh dear, now I've ruined it." He grinned sheepishly, and for the third time, everyone laughed. "However, I cannot make a speech this afternoon without mentioning that even though today is one of the happiest of my life, there is a certain amount of sadness in this room, too."

Charlie tensed involuntarily. Of course. It was always going to be a matter of time before someone mentioned the noticeable absence of his brother. He tried to swallow, but his throat had suddenly become too dry even for that.

"I don't want to dwell on it too much," his father said, with a sad smile, and eyes glistening with the threat of tears, "but there are so many people who sadly couldn't be here today, and would have loved to have been."

Arthur Weasley's voice caught in his throat, and Charlie looked down at the table. He couldn't bear to see his father cry. A small hand crept into his field of vision, and took hold of his. Charlie didn't look up, but he squeezed Artemis' hand gently, and didn't let go of it.

"Fabian, Gideon, Albus, Alastor," Arthur listed. "Frank and Alice, Pandora, Dobby, Cedric, Ted, Sirius, Remus and Dora—"

Charlie looked up now, trying to make eye contact with Artemis, but her eyes were straight ahead, fixed on the little pageboy in the seat opposite her, whose hair had now turned the same shade of red as all the Weasleys'. Her eyes were glazed and her face was blank. She was completely unreadable. Charlie squeezed her hand tighter.

"— and my own dear son, and Ginny's beloved brother, Fred," his father's voice cracked again, but he recovered himself. Charlie's knuckles were now white. "Last but not least, Harry's parents, Lily and James, who I know would have been so proud to see what a fine young man they gave this world.

"We as a community and as a family may have lost so many people, but we carry them with us, always. But, like I said, I don't want to dwell on that. Today is for the living, and I know we've done a lot of reminiscing in our speeches today — some of us a little too much reminiscing, maybe." Arthur looked pointedly at his youngest son. "What I want to do now is look to the future. I can think we can all agree that it's going to be a very bright one for these two. So, please, raise your glasses to my daughter and her husband."

Several dozen chairs scraped the floor of the marquee as every single one of the wedding guests rose to their feet. Charlie picked up his champagne glass in his right hand. It felt strange to do so, but he knew that he couldn't let go of Artemis' hand to use his left. Not yet. He wasn't ready. Judging by the fact that Artemis had neglected to pick up her glass at all, neither was she.

"To Harry and Ginny," said Arthur, raising his glass.

His words echoed around the room, and everyone else lifted their glasses in the air. Charlie nudged Artemis with his elbow, and she seemed to wake up. She let go of his hand, picked up her glass, lifted it up and raised it, whispering the phrase, before hurriedly setting it back down without even drinking from it. Her hand took Charlie's once more, and she offered him a very small smile, which he returned.

He had half-expected her to walk away as soon as the toast finished, for her default fight or flight response to kick in. But she didn't. Instead, she stayed where she was: by his side, holding his hand, as if she knew that he just needed her to be there.