Magical Charm

By: Dragon's That Fly

M&C

Chapter: Eleven

Title: The Old and The New

Rating: M

M&C

Disclaimer: I only own: Carolina (Carrie) Riddle; Michele Merrill; Isobel Jameson; the plot; and other unrecognizable characters from the world Harry Potter.

M&C

Author's Note: Tell me what you think, please.

M&C

26th of June '09

The sun rose, sluggishly, over the Scottish mountains; and I yawned, drowsily. "Good morning, darling."

"Hello. You nervous."

"A bit."

"You needn't be. My parents are the warmest of host; and Tom's just Tom, he'll size you up though."

"If you say so. I think we should have breakfast in the hall, before we head off to the train, darling."

"Alright. I need to have some time with the other; or they'll claim you're the devil who stole me away – which is, partially, true seeing you have stolen my heart." I winked; climbing, slowly, out of bed.

"I love you, babe."

"I love you, too. Oh! – I've made plans for Faye to come around next week, for luncheon."

"Alright, my sweet. I'll make you a cup of tea."

"Thank you. You're so sweet."

I walked into the bathroom. I washed my face, soothingly; then showered.

I walked into the bedroom; and sat down at the dressing table. I smoothed, eye-crème, under my eyes; and then face-crème, on my face. I put, liquid, foundation on, smoothly. Then lined my eyes with black liner, stopping a centimetre away from the outer corner; running black shadow over the lines drawn, with a brush; and curled my lashes, with black mascara. With a red lip. Pulling my hair into d, French-style, plait.

I dressed, in: an Alexander McQueen Skeleton-weave fine-knit little white dress; Emilio Pucci two-tone suede gladiator blue sandals; and an Yves Saint Laurent roady woven straw and leather golden-and-brown hobo bag.

Great Hall

"How is my mummy-to-be doing?" Harry kissed my cheek, playfully.

"Just fine, Harry."

"And Junior?"

"Perfect, Harry."

"Good. You must organize a dinner party, this summer. For our all our mates to meet daddy-to-be, for the third time."

"Yes, Harry. Ron, be a dear, and pass the jam."

"No problem." he smiled, happily.

"You're an angel. Oh! – hey, No!."

"Hey, Carrie. How are you feeling?"

"Perfect, No. Where is Mischief Number Two?"

"Oh his way in, with another book."

"Mione fever," Harry chimed.

"Perhaps. Hey, Harry."

"Hey, Number One. How are feeling?"

"Fine."

"That's it, No." I grinned at my boyfriend's eldest. "Maybe you should waylay that confidence to your father." He, just, rolled his eyes; and went to his mates. "Typical boy."

"Hey," both, Ron, and Harry, exclaimed!

The Hogwarts Express

No, Toni, Michele, Harry, Mione, Ron, Izzy, and I found a, nice, cabin; at the back of the train. I sat with my head on Michele's shoulder; with my latest obsession The Raven by Ebony Crow; while Michele read The Flight, the sequel, to The Raven. Harry had laughed, heartily; at our books. I sat up, straight, stretching my back, and neck. "Uncomfortable?"

"Bit." I rolled my shoulder.

"Give your back to me, darling." I turned to face, Izzy, who was on her iPhone; and Michele, gently, unknotted my back. "Better, darling?"

"Much. Thanks."

"No problem, darling." I kissed his cheek; and went back to reading.

King's Cross Station, London, UK

We left the train; and went to meet the Weasleys, and I introduced Michele, and the boys. Mrs. Weasley adored the boys, at first sight; and insisted we come for dinner, on evening. We said our goodbyes; and we went through to the muggle part of the station; to my parents, and Tom. I threw my arms around my brother; grinning, stupidly. "Merlin! I've missed you!"

"You, beautiful Carrie." He kissed my cheeks; and grinned, excitedly.

"Tommy. This is Michele."

"Tom Riddle; I feel as if I know you already, my sister has written, and spoken, of little else."

"Michele Merrill."

"Come. Do you follow Quidditch, Michele?"

"Indeed. The Bulgarian's are my game; you?"
"Right on."

My mother linked out arms; and she smiled, softly, at me. "You look exquisite, darling. It suits you."

"Mother!"

"You will tell him?"

"Over dinner, mum."

"Good girl. He will most pleased, darling; though you are young, you are ready. I was; and you shall be, also."

"Thank you, mum."

"He is perfect, my love; and he will carry you, as if you were a, pure, gem."

"I trust him, mother; with everything I have."

"And he you, sweet child." She kissed my forehead; and smiled. "We are having a, light, chicken salad for dinner, darling."

"Thank you, mum."

"Don't say the words."