Hat-Crossed Lovers

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. Some distractions from my real job, plus an odd case of writer's block in imagining what the Howe's house and lifestyle would be like. I hope the rest of the story will go faster.)

Chapter 10

"Pleased to meet you, Rebecca," said Mrs. Howe at the Kings Cross Railway Station. Unlike many of the wizard-parents picking up their children, she looked convincingly like a Muggle. "Ivan's told us so much about you."

"Thank you," said Rebecca. She was a little startled, because she had told her own parents very little about Ivan. She wasn't sure what to tell them.

Her parents had gone through all seven Years at Hogwarts and were quite familiar with the social setup there. They would know that a relationship between a boy and girl at different houses would run into a lot of logistics problems, and have little chance of success.

There was also a matter that had not bothered her much until she worried about telling her parents about it. Ivan was a Gentile. She didn't know whether he was a believing Christian or a casual nonbeliever; the question had never come up. But a year ago there had been a fuss in her family because a cousin had decided to marry a "goy" wizard. Rebecca had defended her.

"How much choice do we have?" she had asked. "If Jewish witches can't marry anybody but Jewish wizards, than doesn't leave a very big field. Eventually we'd get as inbred as those horrid Malfoys."

But why should that come up in relation to Ivan? Marriage and, for that matter, sex was years away. And while she didn't like the idea of their breaking up somewhere down the line, she also wasn't visualizing herself as marrying Ivan or sleeping with him. But her parents might bring it up, once she mentioned having a non-Jewish boy friend. So she didn't mention it.

But as the hols approached, she had to tell her parents that she wasn't coming home for Hannukah. It was not a major religious holiday; Passover and the High Holy Days in September were more important, but it would be the first time she had missed the December visit, and she needed to explain why.

In the end, Rebecca wrote her parents about her school project and how a classmate – of unspecified sex – had offered to introduce her to somebody who could help. Her parents had been Ravenclaws and they would understand the power of intellectual curiosity. And in a society where you communicated by magic owls who always found the recipient of a letter, you didn't have to give a forwarding address.

Her parents sent back a letter commending her zeal for knowledge and wishing her luck. They would send her Hannukah presents by owl. At that, Rebecca was frustrated at herself at not being honest with her parents. Her love for Ivan was, she thought, ennobling, so why should she have to hide the fact so much of the time?

She was still brooding on the question after they had reached the Howe's car and started out to Ivan's home, which was in an outer suburb of London. She tried to put it out of her head and concentrate on watching the scenery outside the car. Not the dazzling bits - Houses of Parliament or Tower Bridge – but simply the Muggle world.

She had spent months in a tiny corner of the world, never travelling further than the distance between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. It almost created the impression that the rest of the world did not exist. But here it was, miles and miles of it, while the school and village occupied a few square miles. She had heard of a character in Shakespeare who, unhappy in his home town, shouted "There is a world elsewhere!". A banal observation on one level, but a comforting thought to somebody unhappy with their current environment.

Mrs Howe concentrated on her driving while they were in the crowded city of London. Perhaps, being a witch, she didn't motor very often. Once they were in most restful suburbs, she spoke up more.

"One of our employees, Sarah Rosenberg, has been giving us advice on one kinds of cooking to avoid, Rebecca. We understand that you want to keep kosher. Sarah has also agreed to escort you to the local synagogue this Friday night and introduce you as a guest."

"Thank you, Mrs Howe."

"There's a catch. Sarah doesn't know about witches, much less a wizarding school, so you have to be careful what you say to her about your background. We've told her that your parents are friends of our family and that we've offered to expose you to some office life during the holidays."

"We have a cover story that we use when dealing with Jewish Muggles," replied Rebecca. "About being a clan of villagers who escaped from Europe in World War II, and decided to stick together. It should account for any slip I might make about not knowing about English customs."

"There will be a similar problem dealing with Shannon Carlton, the programming bloke whom we've asked to tutor you," said Ivan. "He'll want to know what prior knowledge you have."

"I've studied some maths in the past few weeks," assured Rebecca. "I knew that just knowing Arithmancy wouldn't cut it. I've learned that computers rely heavily on logic, and on understanding binary numbers, so I was careful to read about that, even though I don't think I'll need binary numbers for my own machine."

"Good," said Ivan. "Then let's stop worrying about things that could go wrong, and enjoy ourselves for a while. These ARE the holidays, after all."

About half an hour later, the motorcar slowed in front of a large house at the edge of town. It looked like an old house which had had a pair of short wings added later; it was the slightly odd shape, not any glaring change in style, that gave her that impression. Mrs. Howe pulled into a driveway on the far side, which led to a garage in back. The area was well lighted: by electric lights rather than gas lamps, Rebecca noticed. There was another small building beside the garage; hearing some hooting sounds from inside as she passed, she guessed that it was mews for owls.

Behind the garage and mews was a small patch of woods, but it didn't look too rustic; Rebecca noticed that it was enclosed at the sides and back by high stone walls.

"Ah," deduced Rebecca. "So you can use magic in the woods without worrying about Muggles seeing."

"That's right; clever of you to spot that," Mrs. Howe. Ivan grinned as if that was more than just a nice compliment. Rebecca realized that he was anxious that she created a good impression on his mother, and she had.

They went into a back door, and down a corridor that led them into a large drawing room at the front of the house.

"My father's in Paris, he should be back tomorrow afternoon," Mrs. Howe said. My husband said he'd have to work late, but you'll meet him at dinner. He's quite anxious to meet you. "

"I'm looking for forward to it," Rebecca said politely. She gazed around the drawing room, puzzled.

"Something wrong?" asked Ivan, as if reading her mind.

"Yes," replied Rebecca. "It looks so – so Muggle. Those pictures on the walls don't move. And I see that you've got some electronics over there - radio and CD player, I think. Most wizarding houses that I've seen, they have some wizarding artifacts in their main rooms, and of course spells clash with electronics."

"That's right," said Mrs. Howe. "We sometimes entertain guests from our company in here, so we want it to look normal by Muggle standards. All our wands and things are kept in the wings, and the guests know they're never to go there."

"Won't they suspect you're keeping a secret out there?"

"Oh, they KNOW we are. But they think we're hiding the secret process for manufacturing our product, and they've promised to respect that."

It was a different way of life than Rebecca was used to – not living in a wizarding enclave, but dwelling among Muggles and being very careful what you did or didn't make public.

"Ivan, why don't you take your luggage to your room?" asked his mother. "I'll show Rebecca to hers. We can rejoin at dinner."

Ivan went out a door at the side of the drawing room. Rebecca did not miss the fact that Mrs. Howe was showing her into the opposite wing. She didn't want the bedrooms too close to each other.

Mrs. Howe showed Rebecca a pretty and rather luxurious guest room, with its own bath accessible through a door.

"Now, Rebecca, I know that you and Ivan are quite in love, and frustrated with the lack of privacy at Hogwarts. Feel free to show affection to each other here. The only rule is, er –"

"I won't visit his bedroom and he won't visit mine?" guessed Rebecca. "It's all right. We're too young for - what you're thinking."

"Kids these days, you'll never know," Mrs. Howe said ruefully. "Okay. We'll meet for dinner in about an hour, when my husband gets home. I hope you enjoy your stay."

Rebecca looked around her room. HER room, alone. She was so used to sharing a dorm room with other girls at Hogwarts, even taking baths with them. It would be a pleasant change to simply go to sleep without being kept awake by her roommates chattering, or undressing for a bath without worrying about whether her arse was presentable. But the real pleasant change would be being able to kiss Ivan without feeling awkward about what will others think.

She was determined to enjoy her stay.

TO BE CONTINUED.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: The line "There is a world elsewhere" is from Shakespeare's CORIOLANUS; it is the hero's defiant response on being exiled from Rome)