Chapter 41: Wherein certain specific things occur, repeatedly.

Summary: What happens in Wales, stays in Wales.

The wedding was beautiful, small, and quick - and he'd gotten a picture! The coronation was stunning, large, and also fairly quick - and he'd gotten a picture, for that too! Right then when she was just standing alone on the steps, and then again afterwards when they were all on the steps! And it was all just a little overwhelming, but he also couldn't wait to share it all with his Mum when he got home.

But the party afterwards! Cripes! It was super swank, filled with ambassadors and presidents and prime ministers, but as far as Dudley could tell, which maybe was not so very far, just local royalty.

The finger food was plentiful, the fireworks were brilliant, and the wine was apparently all from the Malfoy vineyards. Dudley took it easy - wine glasses went faster and hit harder than pints of stout. Still, he mingled and talked to some of the people he'd already met, but he also had an opportunity to go and talk to some centaurs and mermaids and he was not losing out on that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, no sir.

It was awkward, sure, but also kind of awesome. He decided to approach one of the younger-looking centaurs who was also drinking a glass of red wine. The conversation was rocky at first. Dudley introduced himself. The centaur remarked on the night sky. Dudley offered his hand to shake. The centaur took a drink of wine. But they sorted themselves out eventually and after a bit Dorentio the young centaur took him to meet Calpurnia his older sister, who was talking with Carys, a young (and bloody scary) looking mermaid. At that point Dudley just put his earplugs back in because the two centaurs could actually speak the language of soft shrieking, which put his desire to learn French in perspective, really. If centaurs could learn mermish, he could learn French, no problem.

Of course, their accent was terrible, that was obvious with the earplugs in, and so that gave him hope, too. Apparently centaurs couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But after a while of speaking with them, it just sort of seemed normal to speak in a bit of a sing-song voice which made his new mermaid friend smile at his attempt.

And her smile was bloody frightening. But it was probably a good thing, right?

At some point in the night they'd all decided to go and hang out in the Roman Bath and they all teased him because he had to run back up stairs and change into his swim trunks, but it was past midnight now, and the party was showing absolutely no signs of stopping, so in no time Dudley was back downstairs, thongs on his feet, bermuda short-style swim trunks on, topped with his new 'I WAS THERE' shirt. Bit nippy from the door of the castle to the Roman building whose name he couldn't recall, but it was a short walk, really.

And then he was back, and he hadn't spilled his wine, and he had remembered to bring both the lanyard full of tags and his camera, thank you, and he was feeling very fine indeed.

There was a bit of a todo when everyone realized that Carys wouldn't be able to get into the water, because she'd have to abandon her floating bubble of lake water to do it - not a problem in and of itself - but that she did not have the ability to create such a bubble again. It was a specialized skill, apparently, and some of the mermaids could do it, and certain elves. But she didn't know the names of the elves who could.

It was decided, generally, that since she could breathe above water, one of them would carry her back to the lake, or possibly all of them taking turns would do it.

And then there was fun again, and general teasing about the specialized water-wear that humans tended to use, and Dudley was peppered with questions about how non-magical humans could possibly survive through a hard winter without magic of any kind.

There were a few others in the Roman Bath for the first hour or so, but their party was generally ignored and that was just as well.

Dudley had practice carrying Carys, as he did so several times between the hot pool and the cold pool. Carys would pull herself up and sit on the side, and then he would carry her in front of him - and dear God in Heaven for a beautiful and terrifying fish woman she weighed a huge amount - but the wine flowed and the nibbles were abundant, even in the Roman Bath, and they were all wonderfully drunk by two in the morning, at which point they were the only ones left in the Roman Bath.

They talked for hours and hours, this new quartet of friends, both before and after Dudley had changed, and their conversation ranged from the stars and the sea and love and culture and hopes and dreams and it was the best bloody night of drinking with mates Dudley had ever, ever had.

And it ended with a snog. Several, actually.

It all happened, though Dudley would just barely remember, and only eventually, because they had been talking about love and mates and how it worked in each culture, and when Dudley explained how it took humans a while, usually, and how he wouldn't expect to find the right person any time soon, though of course he could, but that if he got married right out of uni in another two and a half years, that would be a little soon, maybe, but another ten or fifteen years and he wouldn't worry in the least.

And by that point they had already gotten some pictures taken - fun times, fun times - and both centaurs knew how to use his camera.

It was one of the pictures that had set it all off, really. Dudley was sitting on the edge of the hot pool, next to Carys and helping her to sit upright with an arm around her, as sitting up was apparently hard for mermaids (he was learning so much!), and so Calpurnia decided to go around the other side of the pool and take a picture of them, but that was when Carys wondered what it was like to kiss a human, and that was when Dudley had said if she promised not to bite him, he'd be happy to show her, and her grin was just as scary as it always was, but she did promise, and she did it with the loveliest voice singing the loveliest song he'd ever heard, so he trusted her.

And then Dudley Dursley kissed a mermaid, and it was pretty awesome. As first kisses go it was, perhaps, chaste but brilliant.

When she complained afterwards that it wasn't that exciting, he pointed out that as you got to know a person, the kiss could go deeper. Tongues-in-mouths kind of thing. Kissing other bits of skin besides the lips. Stuff. (Sex, also, not that he was going to suggest it, and not, thanks to all the wine he'd drunk, that he was particularly hard just then, which by all rights he really ought to have been, kissing a beautiful if terrifying girl.)

And so they talked more and they were all quite bold now, and Dudley was rather curious how mermaids actually did have sex, (because how? And how?) and then he found out and that was another degree of fascination to his day he hadn't planned on.

And then Carys asked for a deeper kiss, and Dudley pointed out that her teeth were really sharp and she swore she wouldn't bite him, and so he did kiss her again. Tentatively. With tongue. Keeping said tongue far away from said teeth. And there was a bit of friendly touching, you know. As one does.

And happily for the aid of his memory, there were three pictures of this particular snog, none of which he would ever show his mother, considering that in the last one she had her hand down his trunks.

And then Calpurnia pointed out she was rather curious about what it was like to kiss a human, and so then it happened all over again, except they were all in the water again (camera away), and this time Carys was offering helpful commentary in her sinfully wonderful singing voice and it was really hard not to put his hands on Calpurnia's breast when Carys told him to, especially when she snuggled up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. And it was quite easy, all things considered, when Carys had her arms around his waist and both hands in his pants, her lips at his neck, when she urged him to kiss her deeper, longer, harder, that he did so, groaning. And despite all the wine, he was, in fact, managing to get quite hard which seemed to amuse Carys no end. She was providing running commentary, so he knew how much she was enjoying herself.

Then Dorentio was complaining about being left out and also wanting to know what it was like to kiss a human, and Dudley was drunk enough and horny enough really not to give a damn who he was kissing and so he reached for the centaur and snogged him silly with both the girls kissing his neck and shoulders and driving him absolutely nuts with their hands as well as their lips and their songs and their throaty giggles.

And if anything at all happened after that, if they all stopped and laughed, or went a good deal farther before making sure Carys got home safely, Dudley remembered not a single thing when he woke up in his bed with Luke Skywaler perched on his nose (ouch), hooting at him.

Only the pictures developed in the days to follow brought back hazy recollections of anything more than chatting with new friends, and even then there came a point when the haze obscured the recollections entirely.

Her Majesty had retired early and said quite clearly that she should enjoy herself as much as possible, and that she wouldn't be needed until nine thirty the next morning. Rietta had thanked her boss, but truly not intended to stay up terribly late, herself. Crowds were never daunting when she was there for business, but when it was just herself? On her own behalf? Wearing a rather conservative dark blue suit and sensible heels? It's not like she had any desire to hobnob with ambassadors, and they had no desire to hobnob with her. She was quite clearly neither important, nor a witch.

Miss Henrietta Pembroke was also well beyond her most beautiful years, and she was well acquainted with the fact. Her job was more than full-time, and didn't really allow for attachments to form. With no time for husband nor children, nor pets of any sort beyond the cat who very likely thought the flat was actually hers, and that the food magically appeared once a week, Reitta, as her friends called her, was also not exactly the sort to hunt for a one-night-stand.

She was entirely too old for such highjinx.

But another glass of wine, at least. And mingling a bit with the people she did recognize, which ended up going rather well. Everyone was really quite friendly this evening, and three glasses in it seemed pretty likely that the gorgeous little ginger heartthrob who manhandled dragons for a living was looking at her as a man looks at a woman when he's determined to get right down to it and lay pipe.

And why not? Whether or not he had any condoms, he looked worth the risk, and she was already in early menopause.

Rietta wasn't at all worried if he'd be a good lay or not. He was pretty to look at, and that counted for a lot to her. He was a grade-A genuine heartthrob, this one, a little short - not much taller than Reitta herself, really - but broad and very obviously heavily muscled. And his face? Oh! Better than most movie stars nowadays. And if she couldn't quite manage an orgasm during sex then at least when he felt asleep she'd get to just stare at him while she finished the job. No, the only question in her mind was if she would need just one more glass of wine in order to get naked in front of the young stud.

She was forty-seven. He looked barely old enough to need to pay income tax, though he was clearly an adult with a job. She would definitely need another glass of wine, but then she was absolutely saying to hell with inhibitions, especially if he kept giving her those searing looks and lightly touching her arm, her shoulder, her back, just briefly when he wanted to make a point.

He was making a point, alright.

She was nearly through her glass of wine when he leaned in and spoke quietly in her ear. "So, Reitta. Are you interested in taking this conversation somewhere a bit quieter?"

Reitta bit back her gut reply, and then gave herself permission to say it after all, shifting her stance and leaning into his ear to breathe it out quietly for his consumption alone.

"Please don't tell me you plan on talking to me all night. I was hoping you'd be rogering me senseless rather soon."

The stud threw his head back and laughed and then offered her his arm and they strolled casually along, out the front of Concordia and then around and eventually back to the castle keep, sipping wine and continuing to chat about why Reitta never married and couldn't be bothered to maintain a boyfriend.

"When is there time? My schedule is dependent on hers. I travel with her. Sure, for the holidays I usually have a bit of time to myself, though obviously not this holiday, well, except for now, I suppose, and it's true I do have quite a bit of the summer free, mostly, but then it's back to sixteen hour days, six days a week. I'm not complaining, mind. I love my position, and I love her. So I suppose I could date on Sundays, Christmas, and in July."

Charlie the beautiful boy laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Reitta's eyes cut to his laughing, lovely face and she wondered about the status of her first-ever one-night stand. Which if she was lucky might be a two-night stand. Or possibly some sort of Christmas and summer set up with the ginger stud - and could it possibly be that she had found a man who would not only tolerate but prefer her schedule? No. No, that was silly. He was just a young, beautiful man who wanted a solid tumble and she really shouldn't be getting her hopes up.

"I always come back for two weeks in the winter. I get another two weeks, but I usually travel. Ever been to Romania? It's quite beautiful in July, you know."

"Hmm," she said, demurring for now, but smiling. And reminding herself that he was just a beautiful young man who wanted a solid tumble. "And how is it, Mister Charles Weasley, how can it possibly be that there is no girlfriend in the background who for some reason couldn't attend the biggest party your world has seen in a century? Or is there one and you're just being a very bad boy?"

He laughed again, and really, Reitta really couldn't wait to get the boy behind closed doors. He was scrumptious.

"I work, I eat, I sleep, I read. My life is boring and I don't go anywhere, I don't meet anyone. My mother despairs of me, but happily she has five other children to give her grandbabies."

"Well, she's not getting any out of me," Reitta snorted, and the stud agreed that wouldn't be ideal.

"My older brother just got married and my baby sister just eloped. I'm certain I'll be an uncle by this time next year. I'm not worried in the least."

"That certainly does give you a bit of freedom," Reitta said with a smile as they took the shallow stairs of the grand staircase.

"Doesn't it, just?" he asked with a grin and after that they were quiet. Up another flight of stairs and around to the other side of the castle than her room was, they approached the door with his name written neatly on the nameplate. He rested for a moment with his hand on the door handle. He looked over to her with an eyebrow raised. "Still up for it?"

Reitta smirked. "Rather."

There was no awkwardness when they got into his room for the rather expedient reason that the moment the door was shut she reached for him and he kissed her breathless, pressing her up against the door. He tasted of red wine and berries. When they parted, Reitta rested her head against the door, gasping and wondering if this was the best idea she'd ever had in her life, or the worst because - and let's be honest here - he was a firm, supple, muscular youth and most of her bits started to sag more than a decade before and were now in full-tilt sag mode. Everything about her said serviceable efficiency, not hot sexy mama, but he was kissing her neck and then sucking on it and it made Reitta forget about how she saw herself.

Clothes were removed in a rather haphazard manner that normally she would not stand for and discarded in a manner she didn't bother thinking of and Reitta was rather vigorously tumbled, literally and figuratively, well into the night. She didn't reach her own orgasm at first, but really, he was just a delightful little stud, so strong and beautiful and she knew that he'd fall asleep and she'd finish up and then have a bit of a cuddle perhaps, and then return to her room across the castle.

Except he didn't fall asleep.

And when he started to move over her again, her arms and legs still holding him, he murmured his apologies and pointed out it had been a while for him and promised to do better on round two.

And he did.

Five positions and two, two orgasms for her later, he had just finished eating her out and he still hadn't come again and once she had caught her breath he urged her on her hands and knees and apologized that he was fairly ready to burst.

He called her sexy. He called her beautiful. He heaped on praise and obscenity that made her nearly purr as he pounded into her and then he did burst, and they did cuddle, and when she made to quietly leave, he caught her hand and pulled her back, urging her to stay, and calling her beautiful, and a hardened part of Reitta's heart softened, which annoyed her greatly and she hid the tears that soaked into the pillow as he held her from behind. Still. She stayed. And they slept. And he woke her at dawn for rounds three and four and she did not at all flinch when, an hour later, he sat across from her at breakfast, giving her a cheeky grin as the magical queen opened gifts and ate croissants.

It was, perhaps, a little devious. Certainly it was something she would never, ever admit to her father who had once cautioned her against such hopes. But she and her dear friend had always wondered, for years now… what would sex with a human be like?

Oh, there were prohibitions against it. Humans could turn into terrible monsters, and everyone knew that. Even the nice ones take advantage, if you give them advantage to take. And there was very little opportunity, given where they were raised. Oh, in proximity to humans, but all children and not eligible for experimentation.

But everything was changing, now, Calpurnia thought, and Carys quite agreed. And it wouldn't do to endanger the agreements with the Pendragons, no, no, no, their parents would murder them outright, but this grand party… This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Now, all they had to do was find a likely candidate, preferably male but female would do in a pinch, get them drunk enough to be adventurous, and find somewhere quite private to see what would happen. Preferably not the lake, nor the forest.

They'd enlisted Calpurnia's little brother who was a rather adventurous thing and who hadn't yet chosen a mate. He had been courting someone, but she and her family had decided to stay, so now he was reconsidering his options and might have to wait for some time, as Calpurnia had decided to do, no one stallion of the herd being quite to her liking yet.

And then Dorentio brought over a friendly, sturdy, and likely looking specimen and she and Carys were very pleased to meet him, indeed. He was a bit awkward and his manners were not exactly the sort that any of them were used to, but once they got talking he was quite pleasant to be with and Calpurnia found herself falling a little bit in love with this adorable and handsome little human who had no magic whatsoever. She could tell that Carys was not unaffected and once the Roman Bath was suggested she knew it was just a matter of time before they both got their wish. They would never be able to take their beautiful little human lover as a mate - a ludicrous notion, they all recognized that, and magic prohibited their having children of any kind - oh, but they could have tonight, and they would ride the current of the evening like a leaf on a breeze. All they would need to do was keep talking, keep flirting, and see if he was amenable.

And it seemed that he was.

Carys, that lucky fish, had him hauling her back and forth between the pools, which, alright. It wasn't as if she would just roll herself there. Possible in a pinch, but so undignified. Still, one end of each pool was sloped, which was how she and Dorentio could so easily emerge, and of course they could have easily carried her. But then she wouldn't be in the arms of her would-be lover.

And then she 'couldn't sit up without help.' Oh, please. She was supple and strong, but it was a nice excuse for him to hold her close with an arm around her.

And then that beautiful and wiley fish made her move. His consent was clear, though he had admirable concern for her teeth, but Carys would never hurt a lover. When she complained about the kiss, Calpurnia's heart dropped, worried that this was Carys' way of calling off the whole thing, but conversation continued on before Calpurnia could challenge him to a kiss and see if he could do any better with her - she was certain he could as he wouldn't be worrying about her teeth, as they were mostly flat like his - but then they were kissing again and Carys looked to be enjoying it much more which made Calpurnia grin and take a few priceless photographs to memorialize the moment, for their human lover to remember them by - that was how he had described the function of photography, and so this seemed an apt moment he would appreciate being recorded for posterity. She would have preferred, perhaps, the moment when he was rutting inside of them, but it was best not to leave these things to chance, and the water obscured what was within it.

As kissing continued and talk of the mechanics of sex became more explicit, Calpurnia and Dorentio were quite vigilant in staying away from each other, or at least having a buffer of someone else between them. Some taboos were there for good reason. But it was disappointing, because while their human friend's cock was a little too large for Carys, though the fish seemed to manage just fine and reached her pleasure each time he was in her, he was woefully small for Calpurnia, who could barely feel anything, at least, not until he shoved his whole arm in her, which was, as with Carys, just a touch too wide and thus absolutely delicious.

Dorentio, not at all ignored, braved the pleasure of the mouth of a merwoman and Carys was on her very best behavior and so all went quite well, and if Calpurnia rubbed her flank up against her brother's while she was getting fisted and he was getting kissed by the human and Carys at the same time but in rather different ways… well, who was to know? It was just a bit of flank rubbing. Just some friendly affection. It didn't make them lovers.

Oh, but time and time again, every time the human was hard again, he went back to Carys and lost himself inside of her, which made sense, given their location. They weren't quite on the right lines for them, but their human lover was finding his stamina increased by riding the human line, even if he couldn't feel it, which apparently he couldn't.

They could all feel it, when the sun rose, though they could not see it from within the building, and that was when Carys allowed him to rut with her one last time and they all kissed each other and then Dorentio called to an elf he knew, who got the right elf for their lover who promised to take him back to his room and tuck him into his bed.

Calpurnia and Dorentio galloped across the meadow and back to the lake with Carys clinging to Calpurnia's back, as they had done a time or two before. When Calpurnia was fetlock deep, Carys slid off her back and they bid their friend and their adventure a fond farewell. It was sadly time to go be responsible young adults again, but at least they'd had their fun, and they would never forget their beautiful human lover.

Narcissa was stronger than this urge.

She took deep breaths and steeled herself against it.

She would not go to his room.

She would not.

For her sake and for his, she would not go to his room.

She got out of bed, meaning to get a phial of dreamless sleep and in a moment of absent mindedness found her feet taking her to the suite's outer door, her hand upon the handle, which she jerked back, as if it were cursed.

She would not go to his room.

Narcissa found the phial and took it back to her bed, not even bothering with all the reasons why she shouldn't go to his room. Those passed by as immaterial hours ago, though in the bright light of day they might become important again. It was now a matter of principle.

She would not go to his room.

She tossed back the contents and put the empty glass on her bedside table, laying back and allowing herself the scant moments before the potion's effects kicked in to let her mind wander back to the reception after all her own duties to Hermione were complete, how he had sought her out.

His impish smile.

His kind heart.

His beautiful eyes.

Everything had changed.

Nothing had changed.

"Oh for the love of Merlin."

Minerva was not having the best of nights.

Oh, the wedding went off beautifully. The priest did his portion - Michael Fielding, Ravenclaw, 1969, a good boy to be certain, and apparently he turned out well, nice to see, nice to see - and the young couple looked just absolutely radiant of course. It was an honor to officiate. The coronation was stunning. Really, quite stunning. The reception afterwards was brilliant and joyful and all things good.

And then the reports started coming in from Aurora. The children who were still in their care - which is to say the ones whose parents were not able to secure family tickets and who yet wished to attend - were all feeling their bones tonight.

Each house, one by one, had needed to go into total lockdown because some of the fourth years and all of the upper classes were apparently all attempting to shag anything that moved. Each head of house had been propositioned no fewer than four times, and that included poor Filius.

Minerva sighed. She could feel it too. Oh, it wasn't such a strong urge at her age, but if her husband had still been alive, bless him, she might have kept him up past his bedtime. She saved a sweet thought for the dear man and sent back a patronus.

"Aurora, resist the urge to give detention to two thirds of the children. It's the ritual on the ley lines. We're all feeling it, I suppose. Maintain lockdown, cast contraceptive charms, and suggest masturbation to the older ones. Get Poppy to visit each house before breakfast tomorrow with morning after potions."

Minerva sighed again, her eyes still not quite focusing on her book, a frivolous piece of fluff on the Norse gods.

Pureblood fertility rates had been down in the last two hundred years. Even for those who waited until marriage, the assurance of a male heir often trumped the wish for fecundity. And Minerva wondered. Well, she wondered if that was about to change on a small scale, or perhaps on a rather larger one.