Story title: The Prince Pro-tempore
Chapter 10; entitled: she arrives
Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050
Time period; - half way between the battle of Hogwarts_ and the no longer applicable: epilog.
Category: AU - Alternate Universe; (of course)
Definition of AU - Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior. - (Do I really have to explain what Alternate Universe means … come-on)
Basically - -I write the way I speak, as if it was script written for a stage play – inserting pauses in dialog for emphasis. It's not proper I know, but it is a-lot better English than what is seen now in 'text messages - on – Facebook or in a blog'.
Author's commentary: As you can tell, like in most fiction ever written - I have taken this opportunity to make my tale like almost all movies made today, into a commentary on the times we live in. Can you remember a time when you went to a movie expecting to be just entertained? Today we are lectured constantly in leftist dogma while nearly overwhelmed in fake-news lies and distortions by our 'so-called' objective media. - -
Well … I know that the religion of socialism regards it a hate crime for me to offer a differing option. But I for one, am deeply offended when normal masculinity is touted as TOXIC and free speech is called hate-speech for the crime of offering a different (conservative) points of view to the closed-minded, barricaded the doors mindset… currently being force-fed in countless 'socialist indoctrination centers' (reeducation camps) erroneously called …college campuses and universities of higher learning.
I'm just a single voice crying in the wilderness … civility … free speech … exchange ideas, not heckle them down … and most important of all; tolerance for those that disagree with you.
OoOoOoOo
*lights
*sound
*Roll film
*ACTION
OoOoOoOo
Flashback begins:
As for Ginny and fiancée Neville, Rupert/Ron on the morning after the coronation personally took the tightly-connected couple on a long *broom ride* to a tiny patch of woods which covered the entrance to a truly small box canyon off the main valley, where faun and dryad reported sightings had been most frequent. - Fauns and wood nymphs were considered extinct in England and Ginny was excited at prospect of actually seeing one, although she loudly declared in letters to her brother that – *the Royal Git* had lied when he said he had seen a wood nymph.
'Modified' Flashback ends:
8
Five made the trip Ron, Ginny, Neville and two Royal bodyguards (shucks)
8
The narrow gorge branched off of the main valley, half-way up the principality off of the railroad side of the main canyons, northern wall. It was one of several fractures (ravine's) in the valley with the crack in question reported to be easily seen from one of three train trestles that composed the narrow gage railroad. The gully was no more than 30 feet (9.144 meters) wide and 656 feet deep (200 meters) and thickly overgrown with bushes, shrubbery and trees, with a modest (fresh water) steam running down its center and pouring out into the valley proper.
To tell the truth, the now fully Crowned Prince: Ron/Rupert had himself doubted that with the way his luck was running lately–that the three of them would see anything but thickly concentrated trees and no one was more surprised than he was, when into a tiny clearing at the edge of the thick woods, without a sound … first one and then three or four fauns, emerged from the trees on the right side of the stream/trail, followed by others for a total of seven males that ranged in age from mid-teen to a far more elderly looking one, who kept him-self upright by leaning on a crooked *sheleighly* like cane.
On the other side of the trail, there now appeared a somewhat larger herd of female fauns (yes they do exist) including five very young-ones and a baby or two, with the separation between the two genders very noticeable. About ten paces behind the Fauns appeared a pack of three or four classical (fully naked) humanoid in appearance and extremely voluminous figured: 'wood nymphs' with an apparently drunken Satyr, 'swaying slightly' in the forefront of his harem.
The difference between the small tribe of Fauns and the solitary Satyr could not have been more obvious. Rupert/Ron had taken a class (or four) in magical creatures at Hogwarts which had tried to separate myth from fact concerning the 'merger into one species' over time theory concerning the: Satyr/Faun … for not having been seen in many-many centuries the two different species had been merged (by ignorant Muggles) into one specie, at some vague point during the late Roman and early Renaissance periods.
Very much like its Faun counterpart, the solitary Satyr had two legs and long pointed ears, however: the Satyr had the hind legs and the long tail of a horse. The Satyr fulfilled the Greek descriptions perfectly, immodestly naked, with its 'horse penis' clearly visible and fully erect. The comically-hideous; fully obese and lustful creature, openly fondled in an obscene way, one of the utterly shameless wood-nymphs; which openly welcomed without embarrassment this very public foreplay. As no female Satyr was seen; so it was possible that the Geek tales were true; that the wood-nymphs were the 'sole reproductive source' of all Satyrs' offspring, conceived during a series of never ending drunken orgies. There was no doubt that these 'self-indulgent magical creatures' were indeed the ancient times first ever … party animals.
The Faun's by stark contrast, were far more modest in appearance and sober in demeanor. First impressions seemed to indicate that they were highly industrious and quite skilled at manufacturing cloth / clothing (of a sort). - Most of the adult males wore at the very least a renaissance era_ poet's blouse _with huge bishop sleeves and lace frills on the cuffs over a leather doublet or cloth waistcoat that buttoned-up all the way to the throat … although below the waist all that was seen were thick furred 'goat' hind-legs and a narrow loin cloth. They also wore wide leather belts supported by suspenders which held leather poaches of different sizes and tools in different spots held in place by leather loops. The most elder of the fauns actually wore spectacles. Unlike the Satyr with his horse sized reproductive organ clearly visible, the male faun's groin areas were for the most part covered with the loin cloth already mentioned.
The females Fauns also wore a form of 'waistcoat/bustier' but these garments were beautifully embroidered combinations of lace or leather and worn above a kilt like garment of 'shape hugging' wool that reached down their furred 'goat legs' to well above the knee like a classic spandex mini-skirt. They wore ribbons and festive garlands in their hair as well as an over the shoulder large bags of 'cloth or leather' to carry what they needed for their younger offspring. Age seemed to have little affect on a female Fauns physical appearance, and whether their hair was a youthful brown or a sprinkled with grey their attractiveness was undeniable.
Their bosoms, unlike the nymphs were 'partially' covered (while emphasizing a generous amount of modest cleavage) with a plunging top worn by all females, right down to the smallest toddler. - Rupert was male enough to notice at once the cleavage on display and the butt hugging skirts, which indicated a pride in their sexuality that was pleasing without being grossly overstated. Rupert knowing he represented the Principality was far more discrete about what he saw than Neville; who earned a sharp elbow in the ribs from Ginny for openly staring.
Rupert found it odd that the totally naked wood-nymphs, far-more honest nudity and openly visible breast display did not earn from Neville or him-self more than just passing interest. Thus justifying in Rupert's mind the existence of the entire Muggle based lingerie industry, for it was living-proof positive that hinting at something only 'partially seen' was far more sensuous than blatant nudity. Like a painting without an enhancing frame, the naked body of the nymphs 'did not' titillate as these more modestly attired female Faun's did. That they understood about subtle sensuality and their power over anything male were impressive; it also bespoke a more complicated /civilized culture than their more wildly hedonistic cousins.
Another obvious difference was that although both species had pointed ears. The Satyr resembled elongated jackass ears that pointed straight-up (naturally: as they often made a drunken 'ass' of themselves) and there is an old story that a satyrs ears are thought to be so big, because Satyr's only hears flattery directed their way (an attribute often ascribed to all 'gurlishly' attired Malfoy's). - - The Fauns ears in contras were more like those of a (long thought lost) Silvan 'wood-elves' _or about half the size of their house-elves distant cousins … but the diminished ear size was off-set by very 'gender-specific' and noticeably curved ram's horns, which emerged on either side of the head and stretched back in parallel, to end just behind /beyond their pointed ears. –
The gender difference was also indicated by the horns shape and placement. The female Faun's horns were thin and appeared almost decorative, they came out of the head just above the temples and then turned sharply backward, stretching straight back in parallel lines; before curving sharply beyond and behind (pointing downward) their elf-like pointed ears, like a pair of solid bone spectacles that only casually touched the ear or head–
Whereas the male's horns placement more resembled 'animal rams' horns coming out of the forehead and curving back high over the top of the head, noticeably thicker and perhaps used at one time as a weapon to 'butt heads' with other animal rams while fighting over mates. In both gender's there was enough space between the Faun's horns and head to allow the Fauns to have full heads of hair.
This horn arrangement was in sharp comparison to the solitary Satyr which had only two tiny buds of horns located on the forehead, like tiny and fire-reddish devil horns, at least; as far as Rupert was able to determine. There was thick matted black hair on the side of the head, otherwise the short-overweight Satyr was more than two-thirds …bald. How any Muggle in his/her right mind would think that a Satyr and a Faun was the same species was beyond Rupert's understanding.
Having seen with his own eyes the ancient Fauns and a drunken Satyr, the biggest surprised of the day came for Rupert when he saw abruptly 'stepping into view' (way in the back) a pair of what had to be *Dryad's*. The two of them stood apart from the others and farthest away from the humans on their brooms. They stayed half hidden by the surrounding foliage and yet Rupert saw them most clearly as the two semi-emerged 'literally' from the trucks of a pair of extra thick trees. Their skin was akin to polished red-wood, their 'private bits' covered by a series of strategically arranged, never wilting green leaves which concealed both bosom and groin area as well as … if not better than, extra tiny … 'glued-on' leaves like: costume paste's, which some 'heavily erotic' Parisian showgirl/dancers wear. Not that Rupert had ever seen a showgirl … (yeah right - he's a nice guy … just saying - but he's not dead).
Ron stood there gob-smacked in disbelief for the longest time at the highest nobility of magical creatures came into his view, long before Ginny and Neville caught sight of the pair, knowing that this would be a sight they would always remember. - And then the strangest thing happened: as if on *queue* all the Fauns and even the Dryads took a knee and bowed deeply at the waist, causing both Ginny and Neville standing extra close to each other while holding hands (ah cute) off to one side (like couples do) and turn to openly stare at Ron… because that's who the fauns and Dryads were bowing too. The Satyr and the wood Nymphs having gotten bored at this point, stared in 'disdainful rebuke' at the others showing any kind of respect for a mere mortal.
The most elderly of the fauns (the one with the sheleighly) straightened up and said (in flawless English … by-the-way) - "Thank you most kindly Royal Majesty for giving us sanctuary within your lands … once again. Our kind have been driven out of Europe by humanists that believe in nothing greater than themselves – for those sad fools who only accept as true, what they can see, touch and hear (or find in a book) will never truly believe in magical beings… like us."
"I had a serious *one-sided* crush on a humanist, once", Ron /Rupert admitted sadly.
"We are grateful that your Majesty escaped from someone so filled with intolerance of any world view other than their own. - Such close minded humans cannot accept even the possibility of being wrong about anything. - You on the other-hand, sire … are filled with a wonderfully flexible way of thinking, especially when it comes to something not already written in a book, I can tell, because I see your hands glow blue, like we Fauns".
"Your magic is blue … like mine", Rupert asked in astonishment forgetting for a moment that he already knew that.
"That's how we knew it was time to come out of hiding in the Black Forest in Germany. - We are the last tribe, east of Canada - where all the rest of us our kind have fled to. - Then we sensed *it*, the old faun said … "a blue magic sovereign, the first in countless centuries, calling us home …"
"You are most welcome here, of course", Ron declared looking every inch a proper Prince to his sister and Neville, "and if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable, like provide building materials for shelters, or food for the upcoming winter, please let me know".
"I could use a dozen barrels of your best wine, a deer or five and say … ten of your 'beast busted' women, the more curvaceously voluptuous … the better", The Satyr slurred in badly accented English.
"Thus speaks a true son of Bacchus", the elder Faun sneered. "Do not take his demands seriously sire. The magic of Dionysus proves all Satyrs with all they need without an ounce of planning or hard work. We Faun on the other hand; have brought enough supplies to last the upcoming winter and beyond, but my troop thanks- you for your more than generous offer of additional provisions. The gesture will not be forgotten Sire. Faun's are cursed by being remotely related to these lazy drunkards (the elder said while indicating the Satyr) and I thank the maker of all things …that the wine thus 'divinely' provided, also greatly limits their numbers".
"Be that as it may, however: my palace (such as it) is always open to you all. As long as I rule, I swear unending protection for your kind … but I should warn you that with the way things are working out for me … there is a very good chance that my royal bloodline will 'begin and end' with me."
"No sire … your bloodline will endure, our seer has 'foreseen' it, otherwise we would not have journeyed hither", the elder Faun declared with unshakable conviction. "The mother of your many children will soon arrive, to ease your loneliness, brighten your days … and warm your nights" the old faun finished with an uncharacteristic lustful leer
Ron blushed (at his age no less) and quickly changed the subject: "are you sure you have enough room in this 'walk-in-closet' sized… ravine?"
"Size is relative: Sire, if you give us sway over this gully, we will magically expand it to accommodate our needs. - - Just as your valley is magically expanding to surpass its original dimension's".
"My valley is getting bigger", Rupert asked somewhat surprised.
"Oh yes Sire, the increase was measured annually in meters before you touched the 'Barrier Stone' but since then; for every five newly lawful citizens settles into a cottage or cot, ten acres of farmable land is added to the valley", the Faun elder declared.
"How can this be", Rupert asked?
"As Prince, you are the physical embodiment of the land you rule. Your heartfelt desire to create a sanctuary for all magical creatures including Human, from exposure and extinction has been noticed by the valley, which expands to serve your need."
"Do you live in the wild", Rupert asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject? For it wasn't until that very moment that he realized the enormous power he now wielded. Such power made him shiver in fear of committing even the tiniest of mistakes.
"Satyrs do, we Faun's prefer houses cut into stone cliffs and we have already begun making a village (of sorts) in some cliffs at the very back of this ravine, near the waterfall", the elder declared and stretching out a hand closed his eyes and suddenly a vision just appeared in Rupert's mind; which reminded him strongly of a combination of the home of Mr. Tumnus in the cliff face as described in the lion and the Wardrobe or a Hobbit hole from the Shire. Not a nasty, wet hole in stone; with nothing to rest your bones upon, to read a good book or have something good to eat. - If a Faun dwelling was anything like a Hobbit-hole it imitated, then that meant … comfort.
"Irregardless: if your people are in need of anything, no matter how trivial, send me word" Rupert said before turning to leave, but paused after taking just two steps.
"It is not my wish that you be bothered by the idle curious … for your kind, have not been seen by mortals in many-many centuries. If it is your wish I could arrange for the 'Barrier Stone' to shield your homes from uninvited visitors?"
"That indeed would be a kindness; thank you: Sire", the elder said.
88
88
The broom stick flight back to Schloss Steiner was mostly silent, which was good as Rupert had much to mull-over. His power over the land being foremost on his mind. - Ginny while romantically sharing a broom with Neville (ah cute), not ten feet behind Ron, were all abuzz with loads of soft, half heard whispers, which were rapidly being exchanged between the two lovers along with loads of looks of deep concern shot in Rupert's/Ron's direction.
The moment they returned to the courtyard of the Palace, the Prince was instantly taken into his study by his Chancellor and a somewhat familiar looking, young witch in her 'mid-to-late' twenties, to discuss the 'ever pressing' affairs of state.
Taking their leave with a half-hearted, half-joking 'exaggerated' bow to royalty (Rupert smiled); Ginny then rushed back to the east wing, half-dragging Neville in her great hurry to report what had just happened to her extended family. – About half of her 'kith and kin'; both Prewett and Weasley, had already departed for home and work after a four day holiday. With those that remained when told of the encounter with a tribe …pack …herd (what was the proper term for a group of Fauns? - - oh yeah …Troop) was greeted with the expected mixture of disbelief and good-humored ribbing.
The revelation of the reason behind Ron's somewhat distant attitude since his family had arrived in Bergen-Steiner … had been exposed by a unintentional 'Freudian slip' in front of the Fauns over the end of his rein (meaning) his 'pathetic' love life, which sobered at once all of his relatives. Worst yet was the dropped bombshell of the Faun prophecy about the bed-warmer/ multiple breeder, especially as marriage wasn't mentioned. This news prompted an emergency family conference held on the Prewett side of the Schloss family… this in turn, lead to a very heated discussion by a very angry 'Crown-mother': Molly with Henley De LeClair. The next mourning
8
88 – Meanwhile – 88 - as evening falls on the second full day of Rupert's reign.
8
The offices/study of the Crowned Prince (on the first floor) was as somewhat rustic and 'roughed-in 'unfinished (plastic drop-sheets for walls) like ¾ of the rest of the castle. – except for the second floor of east wing, of course, where his aunt and uncle now played host to the combined Prewett and Weasley clans, (with the help of all the house elves brought over by Ron's extended family) the rest of the Schloss was a cold, dirty and empty shell.
There wasn't a desk pre-say; it was more of a folding table. The promised furnishing of the Royal palace by the late Princess Judith: was either still in a warehouse in Vancouver, literally held hostage by the Canadian probate court… or it was (with a few pieces … burrowed) from under the tarps within the secondary Royal palace townhouse on the opposite end of the village.
Once they were all seated (folding chairs) Rupert asked; "Alright Milord Chancellor what disaster faces us now, has Judith's last will and testament been voided in favor of her little sister, Ashira?"
"Funny you should mention Ashira: Sire, for she and her goat herder spouse arrived at our border just this morning… all but penniless. She is indeed pregnant and has kindly offered 'one eighth' of her sister's entire estate after taxes, if we ceased our claim on the rest".
"And why is she being so generous", Rupert said.
"The Canadian appeal court has issued a number of decisions concerning the 'Will' that for the most part confirms its validity, with the sole unsettled issue the matter of the lawful 'widowed' spouse. - In that issue Canada's law is a near exact copy of English law which gives precedence to the first lawfully wedded to Judith …"
"So Ashira is going to lose?" Rupert replied.
"Yes Sire"
"Then what is the problem?" Rupert asked
"She showed up at our Basel train-station demanding entry, with literally just the clothing on their backs, two extra-large suitcases (hers) and a modest backpack (his). There is no easy way to travel from Basel to the escape cottage, as it sits on the wrong side of the entrance bottle-neck. It is even a two hour hike across a narrow and winding foot path from the closest bit-of track of the railroad. She can't rent a land-rover as her next 'allowance' as provided by her late father's – 'Will' - won't be available to her until mid-January"
"What about the upkeep money we brought back … the gold the English illegally seized", Rupert asked?
"Frozen by a ICW court injunction originating in Canada"
"Is the cottage at the bottle neck habitable", Rupert asked?
"Yes Sire, It has five cords of fire wood stacked against an outbuilding, a working well and two empty tanks: one for the diesel to provide electricity and the other a 500 pound (226,796 Kilograms) propane tank for cooking and heat", Henley pointed out. "As I told you already I took the liberty of making a personal visit to Judith's cottage for her 'disobedient' sister while you were in Vancouver and I was appalled".
"Judith was far more spiteful then I imagined. There was an underlining cruelty in everything she did. - Her sister's defiance angered Judith more than anyone of us realized. - She spent the equivalent of three king's ransoms (one/third of her wealth) to fulfill a death bed promise, only to have Ashira the spoiled brat that she is, act childish and ruin everything", Henley said.
"Yes, I agree. Marriage to me, a mere male must have really cost Judith loads of trouble with her 'partner' Adina".
"Anyway the nasty nature of the place moved me to compassion. Out of pity - I dipped into my personally treasury to replace the 'punishment orientated' wood burning stove and heat system that Judith originally envisioned to torture her sister, with something a-tad more humane. – I had the 'some assembly required' furniture put together. But the cottage's fuel tanks are still empty, the place has no food, is not very large, with just one big room instead of the two-bedroom place we were told about, worse still it's sparsely furnished and has only small loo",
"And the auto-road", Rupert asked?
"Not even started … funds blocked"
"Oh … I understand now… alright then, 'we' meaning the crown, do hereby authorize the replacement of the personal funds that you used there. Secondly: I authorize some of my personal funds to cover the basic costs and I mean the very basic subsistence level funds, minimal food and fuel … nothing fancy. All gold spent will be strictly in the form of a loan, 'mind you', a loan to be repaid by Ashira as soon as possible. I want that understanding in writing, Henley, as a lean against her next allowance …do you understand? - That spoiled brat gets nothing 'free' from the crown, until Judith's – 'Will' - is fully confirmed with me officially recognized as Ashira's caretaker".
"Yes My Prince; I told her as much already", Henley said with a soft chuckle. "I also took the liberty to place her and the goat herder who in person was every inch the brainless Adonis that I long suspected him to be, in one of the three 'bed-n-breakfast Inns' we have here in the capital. The only room that has opened up so far, against such time as when her living arrangements can be more permanently settled. I only gave them an advance of 100 Euro's (approximately 85.11 Pound Sterling) in cash for eating purposes, and after being 'overly generous' on our part; that arrogant-cow: Ashira, demanded … demanded! - That I turn over to her full access to the Royal treasury as it was and I quote: "Her sister's money anyway", of course, upon hearing this; I outright laughed in her face".
"Well done Milord Chancellor, how far along is her pregnancy, does it pose a risk to herself or the Principality?"
"Not at this time: My Prince. Your highness has funded a clinic of healers, optical, medical and dental for your 'legal' tax/rent paying subjects only, all 'free of charge', but it still lacks both equipment and a full-time staff. Ashira's has not as yet requested citizenship and in fact she found the entire concept insulting when I brought it up. Ashira's right to be here is totally dependent on your 'good will' and her title as a 'non-hereditary' Countess is totally contingent on her giving birth 'inside' this valley to a lawfully born heir, otherwise as a non-citizen, her noble title ends with her death. It was a minor change in our original promise: Sire, but when Judith's endgame of denying you children became known, I took advantage of her breech of promise to terminate the deal putting her sister into the line of succession, which all but prevents any full Muggle from gaining a foot hold in the privy-council", Henley said.
"As to how far along the Countess Ashira is in her pregnancy", Henley continued. "She is only beginning to show, so I'd say she is between 12 and 16 weeks … about four months or so in total. Normal gestation being 39 weeks and her allowance not being 'payable' for another two months; I would say that Ashira will be 22 weeks with child and only seven months 'gone' before she 'flies the coup' for Paris. That would be six weeks short of her giving birth within the principality.
"But she could wait it out … it is a possibility", Rupert asked in a worried tone?
"Her cell-phone doesn't work here; there is no satellite television at her rustic cottage, no wine or alcoholic intoxicants, and no gold to buy any. She also has zero money for shopping in nearby Switzerland. No sire; the moment she gets fresh allowance cash, I fear our countess Ashira will flee this uncivilized hole-in-the-wall."
"Not much of an emergency when all is said and done; Milord Chancellor."
"Well sire, there is the matter of the last of the magical nobility withdrawing their marriage offers. - Even the Nouveau riche are backpedaling fast. - I did warn you (did I not) that turning your Coronation into a pot-luck dinner 'thingy' with the 'neighbors' would greatly offend the ever so politically correct and snobbish 'idle rich', for they don't believe you are acting … in a Princely fashion."
"I'm heartbroken" Rupert said with ironic scorn, "and in one hundred plus years, your successor will have the task of finding a far more suitable Prince."
"You need an heir and a spare,"
"I don't need an heir; you and this country does. - I have in fact; just decided with the last of the 'know it all' nobility withdrawing …to hold-out for genuine love with a witch of my choosing," Rupert roared in a rare fit of temper, he hadn't intended to say it, especially in front of a stranger, but for reasons he didn't understand, it had just popped out of him. "I'm sick and tired of trying and failing to court favor with a bunch of elites that look down on me like I'm a bloody deplorable human being. Compromise to these Politically correct parasites means strictly agreeing to everything they want. Well: my attempts at appeasement ends; HERE AND NOW!"
"Let these leftist fools threaten to boycott my country, like actors do to American states that dare to be pro-life, let them go elsewhere to visit or hold conventions in places where human feces, drug needles, crime and urine fills to overflowing, every street. Let the Barrie stone turn away magical's that want us to have no more babies just to save the world from melting ice-caps in 2014".
"Let their sycophants in the media decry us as a nation of bible clinging moralist, as dimwitted county bumpkin's. I no longer give value to those that hate me for daring to disagree with them. Every new-born Child is the future of mankind; not an inconvenience to be disposes of mere seconds before birth. - For me and mine: life starts at the moment a heartbeat begins. I don't want a non-gender specific 'man hater' by my side that refuses to even think of having children and even if my next wife is a non-entitled 'nobody' without a Knut to her name, I prefer to spend the rest of my life with a likeminded soul over an arrogant feminist b-witch that I never speak too and I only see once in a great while as I pass her in a hallway of this Schloss".
8
*a few moments of silence followed
"Genuine love": said in awe; the chancellor's non-introduced companion. Turning to this unexpected visitor for the first time Rupert did a quick appraisal and he noticed a few things right from the off. Rupert's first impression took in the following – reddish-brown hair that seemed to lean toward the reddish side, a pair light blue piercing eyes that could have easily ensnarled him had not the 'male disarming effect' been greatly diminished by the horrifyingly ugly glasses she wore.
The face it-self; had a barely noticeable line of freckles that crossed her face from ear to ear like a slash of red dotted war-paint. Nothing like Hermione's beautiful and nearly flawless face that any facial-model couldn't help but envy. – It was Ironic; really, Granger's beautiful face drew men in to her and yet she exuded a personal animosity that always repelled them. Truthfully: this witch before him now was facially unexciting, even plain featured … but that too was offset by her 'captivating' doe like eyes and even Rupert could tell at a glance, that there was a razor-sharp mind behind that penetrating gaze.
As for the girl's figure (as much as he had noticed with her seated) it was slightly pear shaped, with child barring hips that were more noticeably wider than her average girth of her chest area. This unbalanced girl's figure was nothing like Hermione 'pipe-cleaner' thin figure, an all but anorexic, slightly hour-glass shape. 'Really' Rupert said to him-self, "if Hermione didn't hate her feminine nature as a classical feminist usually does, she could have made a great living as a fashion runway model in Paris".
That thought made Rupert examine the semi-stranger clothing more carefully, (for that matter: why does this witch look so familiar to him?). - Unlike Hermione that rarely felt comfortable dressing to attract the opposite gender, this girl had actually given some thought to her appearance, playing-up her modest bosom while downplaying her wide hips. Her dress … yes, she wore a dress, how very 'retro' of her, was actually sliming and Rupert found himself unusually attracted.
Some witches these days, seemed to hate being born female, as if their gender put them at a disadvantage that could never be overcome in a 'man's world'… pure rubbish. Rupert had lived almost seven years in the company of an anti-feminine 'personage' who was sternly determined to tear down the current magical society and replace it 'in it's entirely', with a female dominated, 'iron fisted' … Matriarchy. She had zero use for most (normal behaving) 'toxically masculine males' and was generally thought to be unstoppable in her ambition with no sacrifice to great to get what she wanted.
The school-boy Rupert/Ron had been too lovesick to acknowledge on any level what her outright hated of wearing makeup/perfume, her lack of innocent flirting with anything male, or exposing even a tiny touch of cleavage, actually meant in regard to her long-term interaction with members of the opposite gender. To the naive teenage Ron, her avoidance of all things feminine – made Granger stand-out in the crowd… it made her special in his mind. Bloody-Hell: the girl had only worn a non-uniform based 'dress' in his presence … three times. –
Having learned a hard lesson by seven years bitter experience: Rupert had formed a method to 'sort-out' the dangerously ambitious (man haters) from those actually interested in having a 'normal' heterosexual relationship with a 'man' and eventually a family. His father had told him 'time after time' that Granger could not hope to have it all; a prefect Career and a prefect family, that no-one could equally serve two masters. – She would obsess with one and neglect the other, or try to do both and thereby, neglect both.
Hermione clearly wanted it all (yes) but without the help of a house-elf or two (the prime magical advantage over the Muggles) what she had with Harry, had turned out to be more like flat-mates sharing a place to live, than a genuine romantic relationship. One of the few up-sides to the civil war back home had been the end of the all but pure-blood monopoly on the ownership of house-elves. So many elves had been orphaned due to the war and to prevent mass suicides, the Ministry had placed loads of house-elves in middle-class magical homes.
Which meant that many more 'formerly' stay at home with the nipper's witches, could have 'at least' part-time careers with their children lovingly looked after by house-elf nannies. Rupert's Mum back home was now actually working part-time and loving her 'charms job' to pieces. Of course, the Ministry closely monitored the working conditions of these newly resettled elves as well as their overall treatment (Hermione's idea, without doubt) but from what Rupert had learned in letters from back home, Granger's often repeat calls for universal and instant 'emancipation' for all house-elves had fallen on deaf ears.
Rupert had come to the slow realization (over time) that his old school-boy crush … Granger, really didn't want a husband at all; her reaction to being called Mrs. Potter proved that much. He also feared that even while 'under suspension' Harry's hope of conceiving a child with his workaholic was most-likely going to fail. To a devout feminist, men were an unnecessary accessory, and their political value was limited to appealing to other Neanderthal voters, still clinging to the outdated concept of Home and family… Neanderthal's like Harry and Rupert.
Sweet Merlin, his parents had been spot on, he had really 'missed the bullet' with Granger. And all Rupert had to do now to avoid yet another, self-serving, man-hater (Judith counts) was to ever so carefully take-note of the appearance/behavior of the witch before him; if she did anything 'at all' to attract a member of the opposite sex then he could proceed … with great caution, for a truly radical Feminist had zero interest in dressing in the hope of attracting a (male) mate that suffered from the 'toxic disease' of normal masculinity (all this the 'toxic heterosexual' rubbish, really ticked-off Rupert … just saying).
If the witch's appearance, her attire and attitude as expressed verbally, screamed gender neutral, Rupert knew to back away FAST. – Even innocently speaking at all to a 'man hater', in a room with a closed door, could bring about fake charges of assault. – Being a normal male 'in itself' was offensive to some witches. - As few witches were as pretty or as anti-male as Harry's (partner) as the terms husband/wife, had become trigger words to the haters. This life lesson learned by bitter experience (don't judge a book by its extra pretty cover) now allowed Rupert/Ron to slightly indulge in 'careful' questioning of this reddish-brown haired witch's attitude toward men … as much to his surprise the witch in question was actually wearing a tasteful amount of make-up, 'not too little …not too much', but just the right amount.
'Audentes Fortuna Iuvat' or 'Fortune favors the bold' was strongly on Rupert's mind when he said aloud; being too far away to detect even a mild trace of perfume: "Milord Chancellor, have you forgotten your manners, introduce the lady."
(yeah… yeah, I know; calling 'her a lady' was politically: gender-neutral, doubly Dangerous)
"Oh forgive me: Sire", Henley said apologetically. "May I introduce Tracey Darerca Davis daughter of the late Drake Donnchadh Davis of Northern Ireland, who attended Hogwarts when you did and was sorted into …"
"…Slytherin", Ron interrupted sharply as suddenly the pieces snapped together in his mind
"Here we go yet again, the never ending prejudice against my House" she declared in a sour tone while regaining her feet. "Wasted trip I suppose".
"Quick to judge I see", Rupert replied as he too became angry. "Quick to accuse me of stereotyping when it is your house that was most often guilty of that."
"I didn't mean to offend" she snarled.
"Oh yes you did, as the best defense is a vigorous offense".
"So says the mighty Weasley King … from the old school song", she all but hissed.
"Hold on a tick, I remember you now, you and Daphne Greengrass along with a few others; fought 'with' Potter during the siege of Hogwarts", Rupert said in amazement, his entire attitude abruptly changing. - "It was precisely because of your sort – fighting for what was right over what was easy, that was a major 'deal changer' for me. For you see I was once just like you: Gryffindork's like me, were all good and 'all' snakes were pure evil. A rather childishly stupid way of thinking don't you agree … Miss Davis?"
Gob smacked beyond description by this totally unexpected response, Tracey suddenly very timid, slowly sat back down. "So you had an 'epiphany' and suddenly you like all Snakes now?"
"No: my sudden change of mind is very much conditional. I still hate with a passion anything named Malfoy, Flint, Nott or Crabbe or anyone else that was a Death-Eater wannabe. - I somewhat like Goyle and his wife …"
"You actually 'LIKE' Parkinson"
"I said conditional … not stupid. I somewhat like Pansy, as Greg's wife. She is without doubt; a major work in progress, but before I left England some two plus years ago, I could see some definite improvement in Pansy. I think she is 'salvageable', unlike Draco",
"Okay, I give you that one, Pansy has … 'mellowed' in the past couple of years, especially after hooking-up with Greg. But her acceptance of me personally, doesn't change the fact that Astoria stopped speaking to her sister Daphne and me after marrying Draco, she calls us all kinds of obscenities now, because we fought for the winning side, I suppose. We use to make a big joke out of calling you a 'blood traitor' for siding with a half-blood and a Mud, but the joke is on me now, for to most 'unrepentant' dark-lord supporters in my house, openly hate me as a traitor".
"Is that why you're here … for a fresh start", Rupert asked?
"If you can forget … that I was once a …"
"… One of the good guys: Sweet Merlin I hope I never forget that. - We couldn't have won without you" Rupert said with a genuine lopsided grin
"You can't mean that?"
"Why not; I left England to put a magical civil-war and my unrequited crush behind me, you can't possibly imagine how desperate I was …for a fresh start"
"Do I have to change my name like you did, just to get a Mulligan?" Tracey asked still in shock that she had been welcomed so warmly.
"A mulligan", Rupert asked?
"It's a golf term and means a second chance", Tracey replied!
"Of course, not … the reasons behind my name change were family motivated and purely political in origin".
"Okay … I'll risk it", she said after a moment or two of thought. - - "Milord Chancellor, I think I'll take one of the jobs you offered. And I can now understand your misgivings about this Prince. - His straightforward approach is novel… but also naive. - He is outgoing, friendly, and very approachable but he is also a baby in a cradle being thrown into shark infested waters".
"Oi; hold on one tick", Rupert asked a tad stunned.
"But his many positive qualities 'easily' outweigh his few negative ones, don't you think?" - Henley interjected.
"How can I tell from just this one interview? - I admit that your Prince is highly likeable… gifted really, I warmed to him quickly, but my pure-blooded peers are not so forgiving. His 'social elite' interacting skills are clearly horrible. - - I mean: you've got to be kidding … a 'pot-luck dinner' coronation?"
"His subjects loved it and that's all that matters. Besides, being an uppity snob is a big disadvantage in a Prince here. - Philippe distain for his subjects cost him his crown. - Loyalty to our current sovereign has never been higher, the three-nation governing council unanimously approves of him. Do you have any idea how rare a 'subject supporting' Royal is? - - He actually believes he serves the commoners and not the other way around", Henley said with obvious pride - - "I say we are so damn lucky to have him, besides; his unique BLUE magic makes him a magical creature magnet, that will potentially bring about renewed contact with the long thought lost … Umanyar elves of the 'Woodland Realm',"
"The Great Silvan-elves… who do you think you're kidding", she spat contemptuously. "Next you'll be telling me that vast hordes of Satyr's have just invaded: 'Bergen-Steiner'
"How many is in a horde? - Does one satyr and three wood nymphs' count", Rupert asked softly?
"You're joking me", she snarled, as she spun around to confront his friendly and open face.
"Sorry … no female satyrs, but at least fourteen adult female Fauns of various ages and numerous younglings",
"You are lying", Tracey spat again in stunned disbelief.
"Hold-on, did you really see Faun's in the valley, my Prince?" Henley said suddenly extremely excited.
"Yes, just today in fact. There were about seven or eight adult males, all partially dressed and way in the back; I swear … I saw a pair of … Dryads", Rupert said to an audience of two.
"You … saw … a Dryad, one of_ 'my' _people", Tracey said in total gob smacked surprise.
"You are part-Dryad … that's impossible", Henley said in clear disbelief.
"It's no more unlikely than the 'red-haired sidekick' to the almighty hero, becoming a Prince Royal on his own and without the 'Golden Duo's' help", Tracey said as she looked at Rupert as if seeing him for the first time and if there was any significance to be had from the way she hungrily licked her lips while doing this fresh reappraisal, only the maker of all things knew, for poor Ron was; as always, stereotypically clueless?
"Good point" Rupert said.
88**
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Another intermission perhaps
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