Chapter 3: Diagon Alley Afternoon
Author's Note: Hey long time no update! Sorry about that, this turned out to be a tricky one. Well anyways hope you enjoy it! Would love feedback if you can! P.S: I don't Harry Potter.
We hit the cobbles outside QQS and start walking. It's obvious that no one wants to linger…and that goes for the current conversation topic as well. Clearly, James's shite storm is being tabled for a more private time. When or where that may be, is (as usual) turning out to be quite the challenge for us. So, as everyone starts to bicker predictably, I speed up my pace. Let them figure it out. Fortunately everyone agrees with Dom now, that they're positively famished, but of course that's as far as we've gotten.
"What about Chez L'Ouf?" suggests Rose fake (at least I'm hoping its fake, because who could turn it on so fast otherwise) cheerful, "I went there once with Chris (her ex-boyfriend) and it was very nice. They have great service and a great atmosphere." Yes, that's what we need right now, a great atmosphere.
It's fine, don't mind me, I'm just still wrapping my head around my brother's…like international level adultery or whatever it is. I mean ok, bear with me here: James is currently publically dating an Italian model and heiress in Lucia Stradale. Also, as an aside, Stradale Racing Brooms makes like a third of the brooms ridden by the players of the Quidditch League of Britain and Ireland, so really…let's hope her Dad's not the spiteful type when he gets wind of his daughter's cheating boyfriend. But anyway, James has also been sneaking around shagging an English Seeker in Cassie Vetter, an Englishwoman who's Dad (of all things) is the English National Quidditch team's coach.
Let's not even get into the fact that Cassie Vetter plays her club Quidditch in Ireland. I mean, what if she has a boyfriend over there? What if her potential boyfriend plays Beater for the Irish National team and he finds out about her and James? What if her potential boyfriend 'accidently' bludgers James to death in the middle of match? What…"
"Oi Lil!" Rox hisses in my ear mid-rant, "Is everything alright in there?" Her brow is knit with worry and she saunters at my side, easily matching my brisk pace. I guess apparently, a part of me should be thanking James right now then, as his alarming indiscretions have got her talking to me again. The best part, it didn't even cost me a few firewhiskies.
"Yea Rox its fine," I say dully, trying to keep a blank, generally positive expression on my face so that she maybe believes me.
"Really?" she presses seriously, "Because we can talk about it…?" Ah yes, there it is. The door is now wide open for a quick best friend make up session.
Unfortunately though, I don't want to walk through it right now. Rox wants us to talk feelings, knowing full well that I'm not much of a talker right after the fact. I mean, can you blame me? I'm half stubborn Potter, half aggressive Weasley. Rationally admitting my feelings takes a great deal of time, serious time after my urge to hex someone or something into oblivion goes away, and right now…we aren't there yet by any means.
"No Rox, it really is fine," I echo sarcastically, "I mean I'm sure my mum and dad are just going to be so proud when they find out just how big a player James now is on the shagging-famous-people-in-Quidditch circuit." I briefly meet her skeptical dark eyes and shrug, before moving ahead to walk with Albus. I can tell she'll be back to feeling a bit put out, but honestly, just a little while ago she was the one who was being a bit unfair with me. She knows now isn't the time for me to unburden myself! Ah, what can I really say though? Sometimes, I just have a tendency to be a bit of a bitch.
As I zero in on my brother, I notice his hands jammed deep into his pockets and his emerald eyes fixed on the pavement in front of him as he radiates moodiness from safe within the enthusiastic bubble that is Victoire and Rose next to him. It's a safe bet that at least he won't be asking me about my feelings anytime soon. He's too wrapped up in his own.
Vic considers Rose's idea to be a fabulous one and she's loudly comparing her experiences at Chez L'Ouf with the redhead's. Apparently, Auntie Fleur once took her there for a memorable birthday lunch and as she and Ted had a "successful' date there as well. You can only imagine what 'successful' is code for eh? Anyway, the boys are grumbling mutinously at this idea though, apparently Chez L'Ouf has white linen table clothes and fine china…of all the civilized things.
"We could go to Knickle Burger?" interrupts Freddy hopefully and I literally catch him licking his lips in anticipation. All the boys immediately stop muttering and start casting eager glances at my oldest cousin. Personally, I'm in favor of this idea as well, they make really good chips at that place.
But unfortunately, it's barely a discussion before Rose and Victoire just tut at the goofy redhead scornfully. "Ugh Freddy, that's not special!" chides Vic, "Here we are, all together for a change, and you want to go to some crowded burger joint and sit at plastic tables in the blazing sun?"
Sigh. C'mon Vic, really? Don't get me wrong, I love my cousin dearly, but I don't think she understands that this lot could make anything special. Hell, we could be eating fried rat tail in the depths of Knockturn Alley and still make it a party. Not that I've ever done that before…or even know if it's possible to eat fried rat tail…in Knockturn Alley…or elsewhere.
Fred simply shrugs unapologetically and after Vic turns back to the front he shares an amused look with James. My brother apprehensively returns the smile, but I can tell he's still pretty uneasy. He's fidgeting with clothes and hair and is clearly un-invested in the conversation. That's the easiest way to tell James is off, when he doesn't make an attempt at being the center of attention it's downright bizarre. He should be more comfortable soon enough though. I mean, the threat of him being hexed for his stupidity is probably decreasing by the minute. Plus, I'm sure the very confession itself had to lift a considerable weight of his shoulders at the least.
"Well fine, just forget Knickle Burger. But that means you've got to come up with somewhere else Little Miss Perfect!" retorts Louis confidently, "Because I definitely speak for all of my male brethren here when I say, we are not going to Chez L'Ouf!" There is a cheer from all the guys and they promptly start mussing his hair and thumping him on the back like a hero. Honestly, this is kind of a rare moment for Lou, as he's usually too intimidated by his sisters to ever vocally challenge them. Who knows, maybe he's in a defying-my-older-siblings phase as well. Maybe, if I catch a private moment with him later, we can compare notes. At this point, we're walking at much slower pace as we come within eyesight of the small colorful restaurants of the Alley, all of which are as close to spitting distance of Fortescue's as they can get.
Victoire's eyes narrow scarily (and predictably) at her brother. But he holds her gaze with unwavering resolve and so eventually, after a mild humph, she seems to give him a pass. Next she sets her displeasure on Teddy, who is currently congratulating Louis just like everyone else.
"You're on his side?" she says in disbelief, her eyebrows arching toward the sky.
Ted gives his wife an apologetic grin. "Chez L'Ouf is kind of stuffy Rie," he points out with a shrug. From his new perch atop his father's shoulders, Adrian starts repeating the word stuffy in high-pitched sing-song voice. Teddy chuckles and all of a sudden, the rest of the boys also take up the chant.
I roll my eyes as "Stuf-fy, Stuf-fy" rains down on me from all directions, complete with on rhythm fist pumps. Even Al and James have gotten in on the act. Victoire hisses at them all dangerously, but I can already see the hint of a smile playing at her lips. You see, my oldest cousin isn't quite so domineering all the time. Honestly, someone as free-spirited as Teddy Lupin wouldn't be able to standing being with her if she was. I think situations like this afternoon though, make Vic feel inherently responsible for us again. It's almost like she's back to babysitting us like when we were kids. Plus, being a mother and all now, I'm sure the impulse to 'mother' us comes quicker than ever.
The boys are still at it and truthfully the whole crazy, weird spontaneity of it is really quite impressive. Their enthusiasm almost rivals a bunch of die-hard Quidditch fans pumping themselves on match day. As I glance around at the other shoppers around us, I can tell they're curious because they turn around to stare at us as they pass by. Thankfully though, none of them are brave enough to actually walk over and get a good look. This is good because only us Potter/Weasley's could possibly end up in the Evening Prophet for such a random display of crazy. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of Adrian laughing adorably at what he's started, as Teddy bounces him up and down, and I can't help grinning myself. You know what, screw it. I'm about to start in chanting myself, when Victorie gets our attention.
"Oh alright!" she finally demands with a loud groan. Fortunately they relent, but nothing she says can stop them from standing there grinning like idiots. "Ugh, I suppose that's what I get for trying to have to have a serious conversation with a man who's got a baby bouncing on his shoulders!" she adds scowling. Then she walks over and playfully punches Ted on the arm.
"Hey, he's your baby!" jokes the Metamorphmagus brightly, before suddenly reaching out an arm and drawing her to close him.
"Oh my God, Ted he's going to fall!" worries Vic immediately, as she eyes the one-armed hold he now has on their son.
"No he's not," Ted assures her simply, "I non-verbally performed a temporary sticking charm on my shoulders when you weren't looking. He's perfectly secure." He takes away his other hand and, sure enough, Adee remains perfectly balanced, his two tiny toddler legs planted on each side of his father's neck. Victorie again shudders instinctively (and she's not alone). But before she can do much else, Ted quickly stoops down, wraps both of his arms around her back and kisses her passionately. Adrian looks down from above as his parents lose contact with the world around them for a few moments. Ah, such a touching family scene. It's almost enough to get me misty-eyed…until I suddenly hear a sharp whistle…and then another one.
I wheel around to see James and Louis taking turns wolf-whistling, before they dissolve into laughter. Yep, there goes the moment. Also, it appears James is back on form. Everyone hide your girlfriends. Oops…that was a little callous of me. Ah well, at least I didn't say it out loud. Sorry, not sorry?
Ted and Victoire break apart grinning and his hands immediately go back to securing Adrian protectively.
"Wow," murmurs Vic, blushing slightly and patting her perfect silvery hair, "What were we doing?"
"Lunch!" says Rose forcefully, picking up the reigns my older cousin has just accidentally relinquished, "We were discussing where to have lunch." Whoa, down there Rose.
"Yea and at this rate it'll be bleeding dinnertime when we actually decide," Dom comments sulkily, her voice sounding far away. When I finally locate her, I see that she's leaning against the side of the nearest shop, chomping on a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate.
"Where did you get that?" demands Fred jealously, as his dark blue eyes hone in on it beadily.
"It's called a purse lardball," Dom says dully and she takes another large bite, purposefully closing her eyes and moaning with pleasure as the creamy confection melts on her tongue.
Fred literally groans beside me. I swear, sometimes he can act like such a girl.
"Galloping gargoyles Freds, man up and deal!" scolds James, clamping down hard on his mate's shoulders, "My mum fed you three sandwiches this morning…not to mention those 2 bowls of Sugar Snitches and the three bags of roasted nuts."
The stocky beater does his best to wrestle away from my brother's grasp, but James simply vaults onto his back in response. After a brief struggle for balance, both wizards end up sprawled in a tangled heap on the cobblestones. Everyone sniggers. What can I say? Us Weasleys love a little cheap slapstick.
"Merlin mate, I'm telling Coach you've been slacking off on the weight training again," mutters James as he brushes road dust off of his jeans.
Freddy just smirks. "Oh, I thought he said weight gaining!" he says in mock confusion. Lucy laughs at that, but she's the only one who's easily amused and plenty of eye rolls greet his weak attempt. He even earns a few cuffs to the head from those nearest him.
"Well, speaking of weight gaining," interjects Albus, decisively getting us back on track, "Let's eat at Café Crickets. It's sit-down, but still semi-casual after all. Who's with me?"
There's silence for couple of seconds as we let the idea sink in. I think some of us are simply too shocked that someone's come to the rescue with a good option to answer, but suddenly a mocking cheer rises forth from all parties and effectively drowns out Vic's questions about what sort of food they serve.
It's not long before we're cruising up to one of the largest restaurants in the area. The wide brick two-story appears solid and imposing, with a large balcony of white wood jutting several feet over the street. Thick stanchions of the same white wood support the massive structure on ground level and create an alley of shade in front of the restaurant's front door. As I get closer I notice an impressive trellis as wide and as tall as the whole front façade. It is bedecked with interwoven vines of ivy and some creeping plant that produces delicate purple and white flowers. A look skyward also tells me that the plant life isn't just contained to the walls. It climbs up the stanchions in thick ropes and snakes around the spokes in the railing that borders the balcony's outer edge. They even wreath the lettering on the hanging clapboard sign that says "Welcome to Café Crickets: Home of the Hopping Cricket Shake." Perched atop the sign is a large sculpture of a cricket, which chirps occasionally.
I've been here before with Al, but it was the dead of winter then and the balcony was closed. The flowers on the giant trellis were also different that day, holly and mistletoe and splashes of red poinsettia, if I remember correctly. The few of us who haven't experienced Café Crickets before are murmuring in awe at the impressive nature-themed décor. I hear Rose explaining to Molly (who apparently doesn't often eat out of the Ministry cafeteria) about how the owners manipulate the behavior of the flowers. Knowing Rose, I'm sure she had them explain it to her in great detail one afternoon.
Most of the guys have pressed to the front, as lingering over the colorful hanging plants and the dual window boxes that line the restaurant's front windows is decidedly boring for them. Louis and Al however, are dawdling noticeably. I catch Lou absentmindedly digging around in his camera bag, which I rarely see him without, and nodding while Al gestures at the surrounding scene with inspiration in his eyes. Ah, I can see where this is going. Albus has suddenly got his editor pants on and is scoping out a story as we speak. Then, all he has to do is throw in a couple of Louis's best photos, and his vision will probably come out damn near perfect. Lucy and I look back at them questioningly, asking if we could be of help, but instead they wave us on with assurances that they'll be in soon. Us girls share a skeptical look, but make our way through the flower & vine encrusted door (which Molly's be holding ajar for us) all the same. Prolonged food withdrawal is their choice, not ours.
"How many in your party sir?" the hostess is asking Teddy warmly. Her eyes however, tell a different story. I can see her wariness growing rapidly every time another red-head that makes its way through the door. Looking around the dining room however, I don't blame her. Seating a party of 13 adults, plus one toddler, won't exactly be easy. The two biggest table are 8 tops and one of them is already nearly full with a laughing family in the middle of their meal. The other is surrounded with those tables and booths occupied by lesser parties.
"13 adults and 1 little man," reports Ted cheerfully. The hostess takes a brief look at Adrian's pram and nods appraisingly. She's probably deciding what corner they can shove it in.
"Can you give me just a second to confer with my manager?" she asks apprehensively, "Mister…Mister…?"
"Lupin," fills in Ted helpfully, "Go on… take your time. If you've got a back room we'll be more than happy to stay sort of out the way."
"Mister Lupin. Yes, I'll see what can do," she says with a genuine smile this time, "As you can see, our downstairs isn't really equipped for large parties." She laughs nervously and flashes Teddy another shy smile before scurrying off to get things sorted with the higher-ups. She's young (I'd say barely 2-3 years older than me) and slight and actually rather pretty when she isn't looking downright uneasy. Teddy is known to have this calming effect on people though, making even basic strangers feel like they can tackle anything, even a Potter/Weasley invasion.
"Well super," says Dom once the girl is out of earshot. "Let me know when you've got it sorted bro!" she adds, clapping Ted heavily on the shoulder, "I'll be over at the bar." He just rolls his eyes at her departing figure and mutters something like 'no problem sis' before scrunching up his until it turns into a parrot's beak.
A few seconds later she turns around and Teddy ducks behind an ornamental tree to hide his beak (Dom hates it when he uses his gift to mock her). "C'mon then!" she adds incredulously, "You aren't going to make me drink alone are you? Luce, Louis, Jimmy…Freddy?" They dutifully peel off and follow her, well everyone except Lou that is. He and Al must still be clicking away out there. Course Dom wouldn't have noticed that, she can be rather single-minded sometimes.
In an instant I make up my mind to join them. Just because I wasn't summoned, doesn't really mean the 'wild bunch' doesn't want anyone else over there. Part of my duty as a 'youngster' in this family is to make the older crowd take notice of the fact that a) I'm present and, b) that I'm now very much drinking (in public) age. Hugh and Rox obviously share this responsibility with me, so it's times like this where our united front is key. Looking around though, Rox is in deep conversation with Molly and Rose. Or, at least she's pretending she's in deep… because I can't seem to catch her eye. Mmm…guess she's still mad then.
Instead of going over and doing both of us the disservice of a half-hearted apology, I locate Hugo standing in front of an enormous fish tank and join him instead. The unique glass tank spans from floor to ceiling, like a wall of water separating the lobby of Café Crickets from the dining area. A colony of freshwater plimpies are milling around inside: some are using their stick-like legs to march along the bottom of the enclosure as they search for water snails, while other plimpies are just floating around, looking like inflated white balloons with black-spotted underbellies. As I approach, a large plimpy is staring right at Hugo while it nibbling curiously on the plastic figure of a merperson. My cousin is staring right back at it.
"Making a new friend?" I ask coyly, nudging the lanky boy with my hip.
Hugo smiles wryly. "Ha-ha Lil. Nah, I was just wondering if they were happy in there..." he mutters thoughtfully, "Like, if they've got enough space…" Almost as if it's reading Hugh's mind, the plimpy presses its webbed feet to the glass and flips upside down. It hovers like this, still gnawing on the merperson and sticking it's small forked black tongue in and out in our direction.
Sigh. Hugo can be quite well… his mother's son sometimes. He loves Care of Magical Creatures (Herbology too for that matter) and anything related to the welfare of non-human creatures. But honestly plimpies are common enough, so this time the concern is a touch misguided.
"Ah look at him, he's beyond fine. Why he's even mocking us, the lazy little water balloon," I snort, "C'mon Hugh have a drink with me! It's been a long day already and I really do need one!" I tug pleadingly on the sleeve of his shirt and do just a bit of lip pouting.
"Huh, yea I suppose…there are only like seven to ten of them…and the tank is huge," he considers carefully, "Alright. Alright fine…let's go. But you know…Jimmy is over there." His brown eyes hold an unexpressed question, but I don't need to hear it.
"I'm aware," I state as we start walking to the bar in the back of the restaurant. I make purposefully quick strides so I don't have to watch my cousin hem and haw over what he's going to say next. I love Hugo, but he isn't the best with words (in this way he's certainly more like his Dad), so most of the time he leaves the advice giving to more eloquent parties. I have an eerie feeling though, that he's gearing up for an exception to the norm.
Unfortunately, Hugo doesn't have to do much to catch up to me. His legs are an unfair bit longer and more powerful than my mine. "I'm… I'm just saying…it's going to be a bit awkward…for you that is, not me. It can't be awkward for me… I mean as I haven't got a boyfriend he can judge and all…obviously. I'm just damn impressed he's had a lay with Cassie Vetter!" the redhead's saying incredulously in my ear, "I mean bloody hell, can his life be any more sorted? Heaps of galleons….a bloody sweet bachelor pad….beautiful, talented women in his b-."
"Oi!" I hiss, wheeling around and grabbing him by the arm so that, when we stop, we're standing against the stools at one end of the long teak-topped bar. Glancing down at the other end, I watch as Dom and James clink glasses and both down a shot like the pros they are. Not even a grimace from either of them. Well, if Dominique can down shots with my brother less than an hour after making a display of him in the middle of QQS, so can I. Hugh is giving me a funny look, but at least he's stopped rambling. "Hugo Alberic (Get to this in a sec, it's a good story I promise) Weasley!" I scold him, "You know that agreement we have? The one where I can tell you you're being an idiot if you are?"
"Errrr… yes Lily?" Hugo says hesitantly as a small grin creeps onto his freckled face. Oh, ruddy hell, there he goes again. See, he always thinks it's a lark when I use his middle name. Yep that's right, my best mate is such a dolt that (no matter how egregiously upset I am when I say it) the middle-name-thing has never had absolutely any of the intended effect on him. I ask you, how is that fair?
Ok, short interlude. You see, Hugo's middle name has got a rather interesting back story, I'll give him that. Back when I was just a few months old (so of course I've only gotten the story secondhand), my Aunt Hermione and my Uncle Ron were deciding what to name their soon-to-be-arriving male bundle of joy. The Hugo part had been sorted ages in advance, but they were still fighting it out over the middle name. My Aunt, the history-respecting genius that she is, didn't want another Arthur, William or Frederick stuck in there like Ron did. For one, my Aunt Fleur had already stuck Arthur at end of Louis's name (Louis Alain Arthur Weasley, yea she's always been a touch superfluous) and also, Frederick had already been taken by the one sibling who deserved it the most. No, my Aunt wasn't thinking Hugo Harry at that point either (they all say Ron suggested it and my Dad nearly wet himself laughing), she wanted a classic. Wouldn't it be perfect to get the name out of her favorite book, Hogwarts: A History? Hugo Godric Weasley? Hugo Phineas Weasley? Hugo Everard Weasley?
That was when Uncle Ron put his foot down as well. There was no way a child of his was going to carry the moniker of some stuffy former headmaster (he acknowledged that it worked for out alright for Albus Severus, but the chances of lightning striking twice weren't good). Even Godric wasn't flying. Not only didn't it sound good, it was bad luck and could jinx Hugo's future Sorting. I suppose my uncle thought the Sorting Hat was vindictive that way? Ha-ha…anyway, long story short, my aunt and uncle finally got around to famous wizards on Chocolate Frog cards (my Uncle's still missing Ptolemy btw) before they got their guy.
Alberic Grunnion is best known for the dubious distinction of inventing the dungbomb. Now, Aunt Hermione would've just thrown him on the discard pile in a flash after reading that snippet, but my uncle was right amused. Apparently, it was the middle of the night and (as my Mum adamantly puts it) the frustrated couple was drunk. My Aunt had already given Rose the middle name Ignatia, after Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo Powder and so my Uncle really (REALLY) wanted this one. If they were going to use famous dead people, he'd argued; why not honor someone with a little flair? In the end, he worn my Aunt down (which rarely ever happens) and Hugo loves being tied to the bloke who created one of the staple pranks in all of wizarding history (what can I say, he's a weirdo). Even Freddy is a bit jealous of it (despite his obvious pride at being named after our late Uncle Fred) as no one loves pranking more than him.
Anyway, I fade back into the present to see Hugh still staring at me in polite confusion, that grin of his still playing around on his cheerful face. "Well?" I question obviously, my eyebrows arching expectantly at him. After a few seconds I can see realization dawn in his expression. Phew, that's my boy.
"I don't…Oh! You're saying like right now. I'm being an idiot right now right?" he clarifies innocently.
"Yes, a right rambling idiot," I confirm, patting him on the shoulder, "Seriously Hugo, when you really think about it, you'll realize James is being lousy man-whore. I mean, forget Cassie Vetter and the Quidditch talent that practically seeps out of her ears for a sex…I mean sec…he's cheating on Lucia! He's been lying to all of us! Just because it looks like you've got it all on the surface, doesn't mean you've got your shit together on the inside eh?" He nods at me in understanding, and suddenly, it's just like in the old days when I was always explaining to him why the characters in my Muggle stories did the things they did…or how he wasn't playing the board game properly. I've just known, for as long as I can remember, that Hugo needs me to be patient and play this role for him. We both know Rox hasn't got the discipline for it and frankly, Rose is often too busy being older and smarter and bossier to do it either. "Ok good. But you are right about one thing though. It is going to be awkward. That's why I need you to not bring up Cassie…or Lucia…or anything that happened just before ok?" I implore him.
"Ok Lily," promises Hugo easily.
"Great, you're a prince Hugh!" I say laughing with relief (I can always count on this kid), "C'mon let's go show them that tolerance we've been working on lately. You reckon 3 shots before lunch is too many?"
Hugo shakes his head ruefully and we go over to the others, who are just lining up another round of some dark amber liquid.
"So how many before we catch up?" I joke lightly when we get within earshot.
Lucy looks up and grins in welcome. "Just 2…and we'll even hold up on this one for ya," she replies, before patting the unoccupied stool next to her. I take it gratefully, putting both her and Fred between me and James. I suppose two bodies is enough of a barrier…seeing as we won't be down here long. Dom is flagging down the bartender to get Hugo and I the same as what their having. He can't sit next to be to me because there are no more stools on this side, so it's his choice to either stand or move down six seats to the left and wind up next to Dom. When he puts a hand on the wall and stays hovering over my shoulder I know he's made his choice. That's probably for the best too. The farther away from James he is, the less likely he is to praise older wizard's life choices.
"So, that's just straight up Ogden's Old right?" I say, gesturing at the liquid-filled shot glasses. From further down the bar, a hovering green liquor bottle catches my eye. Under the watchful eye of the bartender and his wand, the bottle pours the two shots before setting itself down. Then, with another lazy flick, they smoothly skate down the length of wood and come to rest, with a gentle clink, at the end of the row of waiting glasses. No broken glass. No drops of precious alcohol spilled. This guy's impressive and he isn't even done yet. Before I can even express my approval, another brandishing of Joe Bartender's wand leads to the shot glasses separating themselves and spacing out until their all sitting directly in front of one of us. I turn to see Hugo's suspended before him. He grabs it quickly. The bartender waves cheerfully at us before returning to some stocking.
"Good old Ogden's Old!" affirms Dom, "My Dad would disown me if I ever settled for the cheap stuff. The only time he ever tried to scare me off drinking underage he said 'Dom love, you have no idea what some cheap brewers will do for a kick. Hyena tree leaves, kelpie hairs, doxy turds, salamander blood-'"
"C'mon Dom, stop!" Fred cuts in pleadingly, "Let's just drink before you start turning my stomach with your Dad's horror stories. Merlin, sometimes he can sound downright like Uncle Percy."
"Jeez, sorry princess! Didn't realize you of all people had delicate sensibilities. Especially not after you ate 5 pickled slugs and a tablespoon of flobberworm mucus that one night," Dom retorts condescendingly, "And yea, sometimes my old man's former Head-boy side comes out to play. It's always been a bit of a shock to the system when I realize he was an ass-kicking nerd." She shakes her head thoughtfully and gazes at her drink.
"Are we going to do this or what?" interrupts James loudly. Dom's blue eyes narrow at this and she looks ready to tell him off, when we hear a loud thump. We all look away from each other and back at the bar. Our glasses are thumping impatiently in perfect synchronicity. We all stare at Joe Bartender, who smirks and waves, before letting the glasses return to resting position. He gestures playfully at us to pick them up. Obviously, he agrees with James. So, without much more than a few amused glances, we quickly down the shots. I splutter a bit and Freddy's eyes are watering, but we're all used to this. Hugo is dead silent behind me. You wouldn't even think he'd even downed his, but his tolerance for hard liquor is actually one of his best random skills.
We've just lined up another round when Louis comes sauntering into view. "Hey, alright there you desperate boozers? We've been seated," he shouts, "So drink it down and get your arses upstairs because Rose and Vic won't let us order without you."
Dom rolls her eyes and scoffs, "Just another example of my sister being too polite for her own good. Come here Lou! Don't think because you were out front playing with your camera that I forgot about you. Have my shot, I'll make up for it later!"
Louis chuckles and mutters half-heartedly about 'sibling pressure' before summoning the drink and making it hover above him. He glances around and takes in the crowd. The bar is in a semi private nook of Café Crickets, with a small cluster of raised tables for two a polite distance away. He waggles his eyebrows at us and gestures at the glass suggestively. I catch Joe Bartender leaning over curiously on the bar top. Dom smiles and nods, giving Louis all the support he needs. The confident blonde positions himself underneath the glass and knocks it over with his wand, allowing the stream of amber liquid to flow directly into his open mouth. Then, after turning his back, my cousin lets the glass fall from height and attempts to make a behind-the-back catch. The shot glass however, hits his fingers and shatters on the floor. We all laugh at Lou as patrons finally look up from their meals at the noise. Joe Bartender guffaws as my blond cousin goes red and does a simple 'reparo' on the broken object before setting it back where it belongs.
Poor Louis. I've seen him do that little performance on numerous occasions and even sometimes with more than one shot. Usually it turns out his way. We all get up and reach for our pockets, knowing that each shot will cost us 13 sickles each. Needless to say, we're all buzzed (except for maybe Hugo) and the good stuff doesn't come cheap. By my count, Café Crickets just made a nice little sum, around 15 galleons and 2 sickles for the 20 shots of firewhiskey. Joe Bartender comes up just as we're putting our 4 galleon tip in his jar.
"Appreciate that Potter/Weasley's," he says with a quiet, friendly smile.
"Anything in particular give us sorry knuckleheads away?" asks James with a grin.
"Ha, aside from your mugs constantly occupying the Daily Prophet and all that money burning holes in your pockets? No, not a thing James 'Siriusly Talented' Potter," he teases lightly. James grins embarrassedly at the use of one of his press nicknames. The bartender then uses his wand to gather up all the coins and rocket them over to the already wide-open cash register. He mutters again and uses the same separating charm as before to sort the money into its respective compartments.
"Your pretty good with your wand," notes Dom respectfully.
Our new friend inclines his head in thanks. "You ought to know Dominque Weasley. Yep, that and my Arithmancy skills got me here in life," he says through a heavy sigh. Soon enough however, he's smiling again and extending his hand to Louis.
"Well I reckon the rest of your party's been waiting on you long enough. I'm Otis Burnley, professional bar-back and I just have to say son, that I've never seen had a customer come strutting in here with those sort of stunts…even though y' are a bit clumsy."
Louis laughs graciously and shakes his hand. In fact, after introducing ourselves, we all do. "Come see me again sometime," Otis comments cheerfully as we finally walk away, "I'll show you a couple tricks you haven't seen yet." We nod and shout in agreement on our way to the staircase.
On the way up the narrow, cramped flight Louis amuses us with a short story about how he and Albus came inside just in time to witness Ted dropping Adrian's empty, folded up pram down the stairs. "Big thundering racket, really it's surprising you didn't hear it, with Teddy cussing a couple times and Victorie practically blowing smoke!" he says grandly, "Why it could've taken out half the family if Rose hadn't quickly immobilized it." Well, glad I wasn't there then. Knowing my luck, the damned thing would've still had time to knock me in the head.
Louis also said we had been given the whole front balcony to ourselves after the manager astutely recognized Albus Potter and Rose Weasley. We clear the landing and walk into the indoor portion of the floor. There, floating impressively, above our head is another stunning clear-glass fish enclosure. This one is shallower and looks like square with the center cut out of it. A large school of ramora are swimming rapid laps around it (in sharp contrast to the lazy floating plimpies downstairs), their dorsal suckers firmly attached to the hulls of a fleet of motorized toy schooners.
"You know, there are strict anti-poaching laws when it comes to ramora," comments Lucy thoughtfully, "They're insanely powerful magical animals. I wonder how this place got a license to have a school of them."
"Perhaps they've got people watching to see if they take good care of them," says Louis optimistically, "I mean that's pretty much what they enjoy doing right? Taking rides on the bottom of ships and trying to slow them down?"
"Sure makes for a neat effect up here regardless," says Freddy, wonder clearly written on his face. I must say, he sure is right. The ramora swim beneath a ceiling painted so that you appear to be just under the surface of the sea. In fact, I can even see the illusion of the sun peeking through the actually moving ripples.
We cross into the sunlight and immediately notice, like eight square tables lined up in a long horizontal row and filled with the rest of the family. Ted's playing with Adrian, while Vic looks noticeably impatient beside him. Rose and Albus are side by side, conversing with Molly and Roxy across from them. They've all got drinks and nobody is reading the menu.
Victoire huffs loudly when she finally notices us and everyone else looks up in relief. "If you lot have had your fun…" my oldest cousin starts in, as we take up our seats.
"Ah let them go Rie, we've got cheese chips and stuffed clams already on their way out. Nobody's starving," Teddy pipes up supportively before taking in a satisfying pull of his green-tinted shake.
"What's that Ted?" I ask curiously, choosing to sit between the currently Adrian-laden pram and Albus. Hugo comes around to sit next to his sister and across from Roxy while the others fill in the other end of the table. What can I say? I still don't want to be around James.
"Why it's a Hopping Cricket Shake!" he announces, whimsically allowing antennae to shoot forth from the sides of his head, "It's got mint chocolate chip ice cream, milk, some sort mint liquor called crème de menthe and dark chocolate-covered hopping peppermint crickets in it."
"Hmmm…what their like… Peppermint Toads then?" I wonder, while taking a curious look at the dark brown bits in his shake.
"Pretty much," he confirms by rubbing his stomach, "A few of them are kicking around in there right now." Noticing the look on my face, he's easily reminded of the fact that Peppermint toads and I have a love/hate relationship. He also retracts his antennae, which makes Adrian fuss a bit and wave his hands. "It's not really as bad them though Lil," he attempts to convince me, "I think the alcohol in the shake dulls them up a bit and well…there's the chocolate covering…so maybe think of them more like peppermint chocolate frogs, but shaped like crickets perhaps?"
A look around the table confirms it's today's beverage of choice, as everyone but Roxy and baby Adrian have got one. I'm actually surprised to see Victoire's playing along with the alcohol-imbued ice cream creation as well. Ever since she spent the fall term of her sixth year at Beauxbatons, she's had a preference for elderflower wine (or basically any wine) over the hard stuff like firewhiskey and other liquors. Roxy is like me with the whole Peppermint Toad trepidation, but not for quite the same reason. A drunken Fred once charmed a whole pack of them to hop around in her hair, causing a sticky, tangled mess to ensue. She didn't officially forgive for him for 2 weeks, which is still to this day one of their longest fights. I swear… I envy their sibling relationship sometimes.
"What's your shake got in it then?" Fred asks her, eying the thick, golden-brown color of her beverage, "Even with the possibility of wriggling ingredients, you don't usually turn down alcohol."
"I damn well didn't!" Roxy assures us before taking a sip, "This is a butterbeer milkshake with a shot of Chesterfield's Spiced Cinnamon Rum and its bloody good…sweet and butterscotch-y…but the alcohol helps with that."
"Sounds good to me!" decides Freddy, picking up his menu to get to the heart of the matter as well. Yeah, sounds good to me as well, I think in relief. Those stupid hopping crickets can jump around in someone else's stomach. As if on cue, our waitress comes striding over in clothes that represent some sort of magizoologist's attire, what with all the brown and khaki.
As he starts with the others, I quickly scan the glossy pages in front of me. I'm not exactly a picky eater… but I do have issue with a couple of foods (don't worry I'll spare you the details). Everyone around me is ordering burgers, salads or sandwiches. So inevitably, I stick with this trend and choose a grilled chicken and bacon club sandwich with spicy mustard that comes on a toasted garlic bread roll. I catch Victorie judging my choice, no doubt for the fat and butter content, while she asks our waiter if he can substitute sweet potato crisps for the chips that typically come with her sandwich.
After our waiter leaves, with a promise that the appetizers will be out shortly, everyone breaks out in little conversations with the people nearest them. Look, I can hardly say I expected us to immediately cast a Muffliato charm and all focus up to have a James intervention, but…are we going to do anything? I mean ok, we are still in public. But are we (as a group) really bi-polar enough to go from public shaming back to downright normal after just a short little stroll? I want to get the Quaffle moving here, get some insight on what my prat of a brother is going to do next in the middle of all this scandal.
Scowling and full of dark impatient thoughts, I try to busy myself by taking a gulp of ice water and un-wrapping my cutlery. Rose is asking Albus how he plans to use the photographs they just took in the magazine. In fact, their going at it so enthusiastically, I don't have the heart to interrupt. I imagine it'd go something like 'So guys, not like blowing up your conversation or anything but, do you want to light into James some more with me?'. Blank stares would follow that…and then probably some uncomfortable admonishments from Rose over not having the decency to wait until we ate or something. Al would probably just start grimacing and plucking awkwardly at his napkin until it was a pile of papery tufts. For the record, that's one of the parts of my brother that I embrace the least: his non-confrontational side. Yea sure, go ahead defend it. Tell me that having an even temper is a virtue…that letting things go in life is what makes the world go round in a civilized fashion. No, I firmly believe that sometimes you've got to just stand up and tell the person who's screwed up that they are accountable…to you (their loved one), to themselves and to the world. Tell them you've got expectations for them and that they can be better. I don't know…maybe that's bossy and judgmental of me. Nobody ever accused me of being a Hufflepuff though…so judging comes with the territory.
"Have Wrackspurts taken over your brain?" Ted questions me suddenly, while continuing to conjure things for Adrian to gape at. The little animals start out like iridescent-looking Patronuses before charging forward and breaking up into a little stream of bubbles. He glances back in my direction after a few seconds and smiles supportively. He knows what's up, as he's always been able to read me. Sometimes, I like to believe he's the only one who can.
I lean in and angle my body so that it's basically just me and him and Adrian within earshot. Victorie has already inserted herself into Al & Rose's discussion, no doubt having found some sort of cultural expertise that can be of use.
"Ugh Ted, why this?" I hiss in his direction, "Why has he got to be so bloody arrogant and messed up lately? Why does he do these things? You practically lived out our house back in the day…did you get the impression that my Mum and Dad were raising an amoral git?"
Ted knits his brow and then stares over my shoulder. "Apps are here," he mutters. My god-brother broods over my remarks as the table becomes busy with people forking cheese chips and gooey, cheesy, buttery stuffed clams onto their plates. We join in as well and Teddy, the dutiful father that he is, attaches the plastic snacks tray to the front of Adee's pram and cuts up a few chips for him, minus the more risky bits (aka the jalapenos).
After a few minutes of watching Adrian clumsily skate bits of chips in cheese sauce around his tray, Ted says quietly, "The hardest thing in the world is being the person everyone expects you to be." He looks at me imploringly, almost willing me to see things from his vantage point. But I can't. From where I (the 17-year-old Hogwarts student) sit, the hardest thing in the world is: not knowing what you're going to do with your life… or who you are going to be.
I can't think of many people more self-aware than my brother James. He's identified himself as a Quidditch player for the majority of his life…well before it even came true for him. When he didn't have the same glaring spotlight as now in his Hogwarts days, he still carved out his own reasons for people to stare his way. He was a Quidditch-Cup-winning captain, a Prefect and a very inventive prankster. These things are both part of who he was and what people still expect from him now: the Quidditch talents (obviously), the leadership and self-control of a Prefect and the charms and joy-for-life of the prankster. How can all that be so hard if he's been doing it his whole life?
Ted can easily tell that I'm not internalizing his point. So I take a deep breath and tell him, "I just don't understand that though. Isn't it all lined up for Jimmy? Ted, he's made it. He's everything and more than what people expected…friends, family…why everyone. All he's got do now is…is just play…play and be himself. Why I can't he be my big brother and a Quidditch star? Why has he got to set himself up to embarrass this family? What do I even say to him Ted? How do I support this spectre of his former self?"
When I pause for breath, frankly I'm surprised. Ted is staring at me…but a quick look over my shoulder also tells me that the others are as well. Shite…Merlin's brains…shite…how loud did I end up? I mean I wasn't bloody well shouting or anything right…right? I figured all that err… force was internal. How much did they all…did James… hear? My prince of a god-brother notices my growing alarm and glances at his wife. He jerks his head towards the other end of the balcony and when Vic nods, he then swiftly grabs my arm and makes me go with him.
As we walk away… it's distinctly uncomfortable. The feel of a couple dozen eyeballs on my back literally makes my skin crawl. Look, you know me well enough by now to know at least one thing pretty clear: I am not shy. And yet…this is not my usual outburst. Normally, I would say just about all these things…but to the object of my displeasure's face. Holy hippogriffs, I just called Jimmy embarrassing to the family! Well, close. Still, I think I officially lost control and that's bad on me for sure.
"Something to say for yourself?" asks Ted expectantly, leaning over the railing and gazing out over the street below. His hair is a troubled blue. It's both light and dark and bristling like it's alive. Just as an aside, if you didn't know Teddy Lupin that might've sounded accusatory and harsh. But, as much as he knows I didn't mean it to happen like that…that doesn't mean I'm not supposed to acknowledge I crossed a line.
"Yes. I know I lost it. I went from just righteously indignant to a full-on insensitive twit in a heartbeat and that makes me awful. I will swallow the desire to hurl around James and apologize to him," I say in a rather easy-going, matter-of-fact voice that's not quite my own. Then, finding myself again I add, "Hopefully we can salvage lunch." I wince at the sarcasm, expecting Teddy to not appreciate it right now. But the Metamorphmagus just barks out a laugh and shakes his head.
"Merlin Lily-pad…" he says trailing off for a few seconds, "We should all be like you…at least sometimes." He squints at me thoughtfully while he says this. "Do you want answers to those questions you were shooting like cannon fire?" he adds.
"Do I deserve them?" I retort, but the bitterness comes more from shame than anger.
"Of course!" insists Teddy earnestly, not even a bit angry with me (seriously doubt he ever has been during this little incident), "Right, so answers. Yes, he can be your brother…the one you've always looked up to…and a Quidditch star…just… clearly not yet. See, it's like I said. Sure everything's lined up for him and the life looks amazing! (When he brings this up, I'm suddenly reminded of what I said to Hugo in a more rational moment). But how does he maintain that? How does he grow from a just boy who is of age, one expected to go to work in an adult world, to a real man. A man who makes all the right choices while in the public eye. How does he maintain perfect Lily? It's funny because, someone not in his shoes can see that maintaining all this perfectly is clearly impossible! (He pauses to snort in frustration) Merlin, I practically want to 'Imperio' him into making that connection! I want to use legilimency to get inside his head and understand what's going on in there! But-" He breaks off to pound his fist up and down on the railing, his big brother frustration finally, heartbreakingly clear. Ted is a true Hufflepuff likr his Mum sometimes…he puts his caring about others ahead of himself more than probably anyone I've ever known.
I reach out and put my hand over his fist to stop the self-hurt. "But we can't," I finish softly. He nods solemnly, unclenches his fist and holds my hand. They are big, strong hands that have always held on to me when I needed them. Teddy Remus Lupin is a protector…and the Potter kids have always been at the top of his list.
"We tell him that we love him Lil," he continues answering simply, all the while running his thumb soothingly across the outside of my hand, "We tell him that while we're disappointed, we're still his family and that we'll be here while he makes the changes. We'll be here to help him stop cutting the corners and making the choices that may feel good at first…but surely sting later. We support the shadow he's become…to get back the man we really know."
Ok, so it's obviously a lovely sentiment and Ted has reminded what true loyalty looks like. I sigh and allow myself to release the anger and confusion that's been building up inside me all day. Up until right now, I was sort one-track-mind about this whole James situation. He was all wrong…and that was that. He was doing this stuff on purpose to be a cocky, superstar git. But now, maybe I understand that this runs deeper than I know. Maybe, if I keep my head…if Teddy and Dom and Al and Rose and I all keep our heads…James will let us in and this ugly past year of his life can be put behind him.
I nestle into Ted's side a bit and he gives me a reassuring squeeze and ruffles my hair. "We'll do this Lily! I promise you…I won't leave him behind."
"I know Ted, I trust you. And…I'll keep my temper…that's my promise!" I say, genuinely hoping that I can keep it.
Teddy laughs dubiously and gives my head another playfully shake, trying to stir us both out of the weeds. "Alright then," he replies in a more cheerful tone, "Let's get back in there and start keeping our promises." We both smile and turn back to our family, ready as we'll ever be to protect them from even themselves.