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The Groom
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August 28th, 1889 — The Sanditon Resort
The wedding band—translucent thought it was—around his ring finger signified his status: he was a married man, and all the lady ghosts could cry into their handkerchiefs that such a catch was off the market. True, the band had been there since before his death, since ghosts maintained the accoutrements of their living selves, but he was also married in principle once more.

With no living officiants comfortable performing the rites (how unimaginative of them!), Hogwarts' own Fat Friar had stepped in to deliver the rather nontraditional ceremony—this time keenly avoiding the phrase 'Until death do us part'. After all, Death had shown his hand and was clearly not as powerful as he was cracked up to be. 

Lunch had been a delightful affair with much of Freddie's extended family in attendance, and now those present had a few hours spare until dinner and, more excitingly, the ball that would follow—Herbert included. After lavishing an affectionate smile across the room at his again wife, Herbert floated through the wall and onto the veranda.

"Afternoon!" he greeted brightly without any other sort of warning of his arrival.
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who doesn't want a ghost dad?hear the sea's siren call
graphics by mj ❤ —
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The resort was always a breath of fresh air, a nice change of scene. Even the Fisk family didn’t feel quite so claustrophobically large here. He supposed not much did, looking out on the ocean.

The ceremony had been a similar breath of... fresh air, Ari would carefully remark, to anyone who asked. An oddity, surely, but a harmless one. (Quite sweet, really. He supposed he couldn’t quite silence his inner romantic.)

Pleased for any family developments that didn’t echo the general chaos of the last few gatherings they’d had - he’d not forgotten Passover, or even quite recovered from his own wedding - Ari would go so far as to say he had been enjoying the afternoon, lunch and the ceremony both done with.

Quite enjoying it, until the... er, ghost of the hour appeared out of nowhere on the veranda inches away from him and saw Ari promptly slop his drink all over his shirt. “Mer-” he half-exclaimed, blinking back the pair of shocks and trying, vainly, to pretend he hadn’t been caught entirely off guard. “...Congratulations,” he said weakly, to the late Mr. Fudge.



lady is magical


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