Hello! Sorry for the tad lateness again... still job hunting... plus I bought a dolls house! Anyway, here it is, a lot longer than the last one. Not sure if that's good or bad but oh well. Enjoy!
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Romula woke with sunbeams shining into her room at Grimmauld Place. It was a smallish room, with dark walls, just like the rest of the house. There was minimal furniture; a wardrobe with three draws at the bottom, and a small double bed. Despite the dilapidated room, the bed was amazingly comfortable, or at least it seemed that way to Romula, who hadn't slept in a proper bed for weeks.
She stretched in the bed, enjoying its comfort for another moment, before throwing off the duvet and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Once again, she'd found that the bottom half of her bedclothes had come off in the night; Molly was a lot more ample than Romula. 'Cuddly', as Mr Weasley had described it. She contemplated sleeping in just her pants a couple of times, but decided against it after an unfortunate 'accident' where Sirius ended up bursting into her room.
It had been about a week since Romula had joined the Order of the Phoenix, and so far she hadn't been needed for anything. Her days were spent mainly reading in her room or tidying the house, much to the protest of Kreacher. Filthy beast, touching my mistress' house with her claws, infecting the house of Black, he would say. The others had told her that it wasn't necessary, but she felt so useless otherwise. She felt impelled to return the kindness they had showed her, especially now her leg had healed, and cleaning was the only thing she could think of. She had the feeling that Dumbledore and the rest of the Order didn't quite trust her yet. At first she thought she was being treated differently because of her condition, but Remus was sent out many times for 'missions,' so this logic didn't make sense. Cleaning was the only thing that kept her busy during the day.
The nights were equally as boring, although dinner was something to look forward to every day. Romula rather hoped that some one, especially a certain member of the Order, might have asked her to go out to a club or pub, but so far, no such luck.
She looked out of the window at the autumn leaves; they were so beautiful this time of the year. They made her smile, which gave her all the enthusiasm she needed to get dressed and face the new day.
When asked by the others if she had any possessions she had to get, she truthfully said no. All she had with her was a book and her wand. She only had one set of robes also... she kept meaning to go and get some more with the small amount of money she had in an account at Gringott's, but had no real reason to get more whilst she was able to wash hers everyday.
Other than the huge, deep purple robe she owned, she had only a long, thick, dark green dress that dragged on the ground and hooked over the middle finger of each of hand, covering her completely. She didn't like people seeing her scarred body. She especially didn't like people looking at her arms.
Once she was dressed, Romula went downstairs for breakfast. She had no idea what time it was... it was light, and that's all that mattered to her.
When she arrived at the entrance to the kitchen, she heard people in the kitchen in heated discussion. Any other time, she would have just walked right in and joined them, but she heard part of the conversation that made her choose to stay outside unseen…
"…looking at you, so why don't you just ask her out? She obviously fancies you, mate," said Sirius.
The next voice that spoke was so soft and reassuring, it gave her butterflies.
"Don't be a moron, Sirius. I know that's a difficult task for you, but- ow!"
Romula heard what she thought could be a friendly punch and giggled. She threw her hand over her mouth and prayed to Merlin that they hadn't heard her.
"ANYWAY, like I was saying," Remus continued, "I'm too old and poor for anyone like her to even care a thought about."
The butterflies rapidly flew away as a horrible knot formed in her stomach.
"Too old? Now you're being the stupid one. She's only a couple of years younger than you, Remus!"
"Well, I'm certainly too poor! Have you seen the quality of her robes? Much more than I could afford," said a sad, yet defensive sounding Remus.
Romula looked at her robes and felt the insides. If only he knew how ripped and disheveled they were on the inside…
"Has it escaped your notice that they are in fact the only robes she's worn since she's been here? No, I guess you've been too busy imagining her without them!"
"Sirius! Merlin's beard… you never stop, do you! Look… I think she's an amazing woman but… I'm too… she's too… too-"
"Werewolfy?" said Sirius, mockingly. "Come on, you're just making up excuses now."
Remus didn't reply. Romula heard him let out a long sigh.
Silence followed briefly, until Sirius slammed his hands down on the table and said suddenly, "Remus, stop being a pansy and ask her out, for Merlin's sake!"
Romula burst into giggles again, but Remus failed to respond. She imagined his jaw dropping, just like hers had when she'd first met Dumbledore.
"Remus, you," said Sirius, pausing slightly, "are a coward."
"Coward?! Just because I haven't thrown myself at her, doesn't mean I'm a coward!" he said defensively.
"Then prove it!" said Sirius, almost pleading.
"Fine! I'll ask her out for a drink. Nothing more, just a drink. Will that shut you up?"
"For a while, yeah," said Sirius, who Romula could imagine had a big grin on his face.
She felt it was time to enter, but made sure she did it with as much grace and elegance she could muster.
She floated into the kitchen and was satisfied with the mixed looks of surprise, embarrassment and lust.
"Good morning, boys," she said confidently.
Neither of them said a word as she made her way over to the kettle in order to make herself some tea. She glanced at the clock and saw that it read 9.35. She smiled; she still had the rest of the day for Remus to ask her for a drink.
They seemed to have snapped out of their dream-like trance, as Sirius nudged his friend with his elbow.
"Oh, uh… g-good morning, R-Romula," he stuttered in nervousness.
She saw Sirius give a 'gone-on' stare to Remus, and allowed herself a small laugh.
"Any p-plans for today?" he asked.
"Oh, just the usual," she continued casually, placing bread in the toaster. "You know… eating, reading, cleaning, sleeping."
"Oh, that's good-ow!" said Remus: Sirius' subtle attempt at kicking him under the table. Romula could just about see Remus mouthing 'okay' rather pointedly at Sirius.
"Romula…" he began.
"Yes?" she said again, casually, an air of dreaminess on her voice.
"Would you?" he said. He drew a deep sigh and stood up. Finally, Romula decided to face the flustered man.
"Would-you-like-to-come-for-a-drink?" he blurted out, so quickly she was barely able to make out what he'd said. Then he added, "With me, that is. Tonight?"
Romula smiled at him widely, so pleased he'd finally asked, even if it was with a little help from Sirius. Then she changed her expression to a mock thinking pose.
"I'm not sure… I might have to check my diary…"
Remus seemed disappointed, looking at the table and saying, "Oh… okay then, don't worry-"
"Of course I will, silly!" she said, grinning at him.
He gave her a small smile and seemed to be slightly annoyed, but quite relieved.
"Say… tonight at eight?" she asked.
He slowly nodded, blushing slightly.
"Great! See you then," she said, smiling.
Before leaving the room, Romula went to Remus and kissed him on the cheek, wanting to feel him close again. She was certain she felt him tremble slightly as her soft lips touched his warm skin. She completely forgot she'd left her breakfast behind.
She felt a great warmth rise inside of her as she left the room. She had been itching to leave the house since she had gotten there. The house seemed very dead, even with so many people inhabiting it, and when they left, it became awfully eerie.
As Romula made her way to her room, she knew that Remus couldn't see her in the same robes again. Not tonight. She felt her womanly instincts fill her as she decided: she had to have new robes. And there was only one place to get them.
She grabbed her purple robe and threw it around herself. She hurried downstairs and out of the front door, leaving Sirius to tackle his mother's portrait that hurled abuse at her as she passed.
Once she was outside, Romula was able concentrate on the bustling street, the rows upon rows of colourful shops. She spun on the spot and felt an unpleasant squeezing sensation.
When she landed, she instantly felt the warmth and excitement rise from Diagon Alley.
She loved the place; the atmosphere, the people, and of course, as any real woman would say, the shopping.
She made her way quickly to 'Madame Malkin's: Robes for All Occasions.'
She decided that the best thing to do would be to find some decent clothes and match them with some simple shoes. But then she saw something that caught her eye.
They were very unusual ankle boots. They had a kind of alligator feel leather upper, which had a zip fastener on the inside. The toe was covered in black suede with prominent bronze coloured stitching. On the outside of each boot was a large black suede bow, each with a large wolf-head brooch in the middle with amber eyes.
They were absolutely perfect, and Romula prayed to Merlin that she would get to them before anyone else did.
The shop was fairly busy with wizards and witches buying new apparel, and students buying spare robes because they had already practically destroyed their new ones at Hogwart's.
Romula moved through the bustling groups of people, pushing a few in the process. She had her eye on the goal and was so close. She reached down to pick them up… and another hand took them. Romula was furious.
She stood up and faced the owner of the thieving hands; a short, tubby woman with graying hair and a round face. She stroked the shoes with her sausage-like fingers, grinning evilly at Romula.
Romula stood up and placed her hands on her hips, trying to make herself look as intimidating as possible.
"Ex-cuse me," said Romula through narrow eyes, "But you appear to have picked up my boots."
The old witch cackled.
"Your boots?" she said mockingly, "Yours? I don't see them in your hands!"
Romula scowled at her, trying to keep the wolf within her at bay.
"Listen," she said, getting closer to the witch who, with an even eviler smile, copied Romula's actions. Romula flinched as she smelt dirty cat litter and mould on the witch's robes.
"If you give me back my boots, I will forget that this has ever happened and save you from a lot of pain," she said as calmly as she could.
The old witch cackled again.
"What is a puny little witch going to do to me!?" she laughed, with pure delight in her face at Romula's battle.
"This."
Romula looked around to make sure that they were alone and unseen in the corner, and lifted the sleeve of her robes and dress to reveal her left arm to the witch. All of the colour from the witch's face drained completely and her delighted expression was replaced by one of repulsion, dread, fear.
She looked Romula in the face, who was now smiling from the corner of her mouth. She didn't say another word, dropping the boots and making a swift exit. Romula watched as the woman left, making sure that she didn't look back.
I thought so.
Once she was satisfied that she would have no more trouble, she quickly yanked the sleeves down from her clothes and picked up the boots; they were definitely what she wanted.
Now that she had the boots, all she had to do was find something to go with them. Of course, she needed to wear some sort of dress or skirt in order for her boots to be seen.
Not wanting to go through the same hassle as she'd had with the boots, Romula gained Madame Malkin's help in choosing what else to wear.
"Now, dear, something 'sexy' you said, yes?" said Madame Malkin, smiling at Romula.
Romula felt somewhat… uncomfortable. She simply nodded.
"And something to match those boots, no doubt. Hmmm… I'd say with a lovely curvy figure like yours, you should go with something tight fitting. Maybe a V neck to define your large bosoms?" she asked, smiling yet again.
Romula nodded, becoming red in her cheeks.
"A knee length skirt and a blouse?" suggested Madame Malkin.
She browsed the racks of clothing, apparently in the knowledge of what she was going to find for Romula. Finally, she came back with a tweed, knee length, straight cut skirt and a fitted beige blouse.
She showed them to Romula, who looked at the clothes willingly, but felt disappointed at the length of the skirt; she was hoping it would be longer.
She leaned to Madame Malkin and whispered something in her ear, hoping that she would understand. To her relief, she smiled again, sympathetically.
"I see… well," she said, browsing the items on the wall near the changing room. She handed the clothes the Romula and went to the underwear.
"Here," she said, taking a pair of black tights off the walls and adding them to pile of clothes that Romula was holding.
Romula was nudged into the changing room by Madame Malkin who closed the curtains behind her.
The cubicle was very small, Romula almost felt claustrophobic.
"Come on then, dear, I haven't got all day, more people to see!" said a female voice behind her.
She jumped and found that the full-length mirror was talking to her; she'd forgotten about them since her Hogwart's days.
"Strip!" commanded the mirror.
Romula felt very nervous; the mirror was enchanted to tell the truth and she had no idea what it would say if it saw her scars.
"I-I don't r-really like… well, anyone looking at me w-without c-clothes on," she stuttered.
The mirror seemed to understand.
"Okay, okay, I'll turn around. Just hurry up!"
Romula wondered exactly how a mirror could turn around by itself until it did exactly that; the string attached to it swung on the big metal hook it was put over and all she could see was the wood on the other side.
Romula got dressed as quickly and carefully as she could, spending a while trying to make herself look as sexy as she believed she could be.
"I'm ready," she told the mirror.
When the mirror spun back around, she was stunned at what she saw; the short length of the skirt made her legs look long and elegant, yet the shirt accented her curvy hips and did wonders for her generous breasts.
Although here was a prominent scar going from her collarbone to her waist, it was hidden by the array of her features.
She couldn't believe what she saw; she was beautiful.
She plumped up her thick, chocolate brown hair, making it cascade into her pale face. She made the sexiest pose she could at the mirror, pouting her lips.
She gave herself a satisfied smile.
"I'm going to blow his fucking mind."
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Hope you liked it. If you notice and strange bits in the story where they're repeating themselves, please let me know. Word was doing weird things. I'm off to Portugal tomorrow so I won't be writing for a bit. Hope this keeps you going. R&R as always please!