Page 11 of Hex Appeal (Grimm Mawr #5)

Six months later, they included those exact pick-up lines in their vows, much to the delight of their students and the scandalized expressions of more traditional faculty members. Ceries vowed to always remind Malachai that "swimming won't turn someone into a toad" and wondered aloud "what's wrong with recreational amphibian transformation between consenting adults?" Malachai, in turn, promised to occasionally iron fewer socks and to embrace Ceries's "innovative approaches" in all aspects of their life together.

The garden gnomes served as ring-bearers, initially reluctant until bribed with premium fertilizer and prime garden locations. They took their duties with surprising seriousness, marching down the aisle in perfect formation, each polished to a gleaming shine and wearing tiny formal bow ties.

The ceremony nearly derailed when one gnome decided to improvise with a surprisingly graceful ballet leap during the processional. Another attempted to add dramatic flair by sliding down the aisle on his knees. A third, overcome with emotion, openly wept crystalline tears that magically transformed into tiny flowers where they fell.

The practice dummies formed an enthusiastic honor guard, and Edgar the raven delivered the rings with impeccable timing, though he did steal a cufflink from Trustee Adelweiss as an apparent warning against future misbehavior from the trustees.

While Trustee Thorncraft spent the foreseeable future explaining his business practices to increasingly skeptical magical authorities, Ceries and Malachai devoted themselves to creating a defensive magic curriculum that balanced caution with innovation, theory with practice, tradition with progress.

Headmistress Raven, upon reviewing their initial curriculum proposal had merely nodded and said, "As expected." Coming from her, it was high praise indeed.

As for the Bewildering Fog Hex, it became a carefully supervised part of the advanced curriculum, taught with multiple safety measures and always with both professors present. Not a single student was lost in confusion—though a few school visitors occasionally found themselves explaining their deepest secrets to garden ornaments.

The wedding reception was in full swing in the Great Hall of Grimm Mawr Academy. Magical lights floated overhead, the enchanted ceiling mimicking a perfect starry night. Ceries and Malachai swayed on the dance floor, lost in their own world, while faculty and students celebrated around them.

At the dessert table, Nurse Diana Maelstrom haphazardly tossed her infamous "Love Potion #9.75" brownies onto a serving platter. She wore her formal medical robes for the occasion, crisp white with pale blue trim, her silver-streaked dark hair pulled back in her signature no-nonsense bun.

"You know," a deep voice rumbled beside her, "I'm pretty sure those brownies violate at least three magical confectionery regulations."

Diana stiffened, not bothering to look up. "Alarick, I wasn't aware that maintenance wizards were also experts in magical food safety."

Alarick Blackthorn, the academy's newest maintenance wizard, towered over the dessert table. His formal robes couldn't quite disguise his rugged build, and he'd clearly made an attempt to tame his usually wild dark hair for the wedding, though a few rebellious strands had already escaped.

"I'm a man of many talents," he replied, reaching for a brownie.

Diana's hand shot out, slapping his away with the lightning-fast reflexes of a woman who'd spent decades preventing teenage witches and warlocks from making catastrophic magical medical mistakes. "Those aren't ready yet."

"They look ready to me." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless you've added something extra special for the wedding?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Diana began randomly sprinkling tiny edible flowers atop the brownies. "Don't you have something to fix? Perhaps the plumbing in the east wing that's been singing opera at inconvenient hours?"

"Fixed it yesterday." Alarick leaned against the table, watching her work. "The tenor toilet just needed some encouragement to hit the high notes without flooding."

Despite herself, Diana's lips twitched. "Well, surely there's a door that needs oiling or a window that's developed a personality disorder."

"All handled. I'm surprisingly efficient when I want to be." He studied her with amusement. "Has anyone ever told you that you're remarkably resistant to my charm?"

Diana finally looked up, fixing him with her best medical professional stare—the one that made freshmen confess to unauthorized potion experimentation before she even asked a question. "Has anyone ever told you that your so-called charm needs serious recalibration?"

"You wound me, Diana."

"I doubt that very much. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to deliver these to the head table." She lifted the platter, only to have Alarick smoothly take it from her hands.

"Allow me," he said.

"I am perfectly capable of carrying a plate of brownies, Alarick."

"I'm sure you're capable of performing emergency magical surgery during a snowstorm while fending off a rogue demon with one hand, but that doesn't mean you can't accept a little help now and then." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Besides, this way I get first dibs on the leftovers."

Diana huffed but allowed him to carry the platter. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I'm choosing to take it as one."

As they approached the head table, Juno Runeheart intercepted them, her flower crown slightly askew after an enthusiastic round of dancing with Thaddeus Shadowspire.

"Your brownies are legendary." Juno plucked one from the tray and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss. "Morgana's sacred spatula, what do you put in these?"

"Family secret," Diana replied primly.

"Dark magic," Alarick stage-whispered. "Probably involves the tears of freshmen who tried to heal paper cuts with magic."

Diana shot him a glare that could have frozen hellfire. "Don't you have something large and heavy to lift somewhere?"

"Not at the moment," he replied cheerfully. "I'm all yours until something breaks."

Juno's eyes darted between them, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Well, I'll just leave you two to distribute brownies." She backed away, nearly colliding with Thaddeus in her haste.

At the head table, Ceries and Malachai accepted the brownies with grace, though Ceries immediately broke hers in half to share with her new husband.

"Careful, Principal Starcatcher," Alarick warned with a wink. "The last time I saw someone consume that much of Diana's baking, they proposed to the library card catalog."

"Already married," Malachai pointed out, accepting his half with a smile. "Though I'm not ruling out a passionate affair with my filing system."

"He's joking," Ceries assured Diana. "Mostly."

As they moved away from the head table, Diana reclaimed the now-empty platter. "Thank you for your assistance, Alarick. You can return to... whatever it is you do when you're not annoying the medical staff."

"Actually," Alarick said, his tone shifting slightly, "I was hoping for a dance."

Diana blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I don't dance."

"Everyone dances at weddings. It's practically a magical law."

"Not me."

"One dance," he persisted, holding out his hand. "For the happy couple. It would be rude to refuse."

"I am quite comfortable being rude when necessary."

"Just one dance. I promise not to step on your toes or make any inappropriate comments about your impressive knowledge of healing hexes."

"Or my age?" she asked sharply.

Frustration flashed in his eyes. "Your age has never been the issue. Your stubbornness, on the other hand..."

Before Diana could formulate a suitably cutting reply, Headmistress Raven glided by. "Nurse Maelstrom," she said in her cool, authoritative voice. "The board has requested all senior faculty participate in at least one dance. Tradition." With a significant look between Diana and Alarick, she swept away, her raven familiar Edgar giving what sounded suspiciously like a snicker from her shoulder.

Diana's lips pressed into a thin line. "It appears I have no choice."

"Try not to sound so enthusiastic," Alarick said dryly, offering his arm.

With obvious reluctance, Diana placed the platter on a nearby table and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. As a slow, enchanting melody began, Alarick placed one hand respectfully at her waist, maintaining a proper distance between them.

"See? Not so terrible," he murmured as they began to move.

"The night is still young," Diana replied, but there was a hint of humor in her voice.

From across the room, Ceries nudged Malachai and nodded toward the unlikely pair. "Ten galleons says they're next."

Malachai followed her gaze, observing the way Diana was studiously avoiding looking at her dance partner while Alarick watched her with barely concealed fascination. "I never bet on sure things," he replied with a smile, pulling his wife closer. "But I will say this—Grimm Mawr Academy does seem to have a talent for bringing together the most unexpected couples."

"Must be something in the brownies," Ceries suggested, leaning up to kiss him.

As the night continued and the celebration went on around them, Diana and Alarick continued their dance, neither quite willing to be the first to step away, and neither quite ready to admit that perhaps—just perhaps—there was more magic brewing between them than either was prepared to acknowledge.

At least, not yet.