Best Laid Plans

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or pride and Prejudice. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One: The Defence Association

Chapter Eleven:

In all, her parents' relocation to Isolde Cottage is rather anticlimactic. There'd been an initial moment of concern where it seemed the side-effects of portkey travel would not be received well, but the family magic had rushed in, through, over and around James and Lily, had rejoiced at their return and grieved at their diminished state, and afterwards, the pair had both settled quickly.

Healer Pendleton had lingered long enough to ensure that his presence was not required, but his responsibilities eventually called him back to St Mungo's, and he left his patients in the capable hands of their new carers - three of them, slated to work on a rotation of eight hour shifts - and also in the company of those who love them.

Sirius, Emilyn, Remus and Helena remain, observe and assist as her parents get acquainted with their new surroundings. They're already familiar with their new carers, and with the new housekeeper they'd hired for Isolde Cottage, but they seem delighted by the dower house, by their relative freedoms within - the kitchen and the occupied bedrooms are closed to them, and they can't leave the premises without a carer present, but they have free reign of the rest of the house - and Helena's heartened to see them smiling, holding hands, animated in a way she's rarely seen.

"We should have done this ages ago," Sirius says, emotional.

"We should have," Emilyn concurs.

"It's done now," Remus contributes, sensible as ever. That's not to say he's unaffected by James' and Lily's delight - Helena has caught him drying his eyes a time or two throughout the morning - but her childhood tutor isn't about to waste his time brooding over the things he cannot change. He contemplates his watch, and reluctantly asks, "Should we leave them to it?"

Emilyn sighs. "I suppose we ought to make sure the kids have left the house in one piece."

Remus' tone is droll. "It's Molly I'm more worried about."

Helena's tempted to stay, to spend time with her parents, to perhaps continue where she'd left off with 'The Hobbit', but it had been established beforehand that her parents need to develop a routine and a rapport with the carers, and that won't necessarily be accomplished with the four of them underfoot. As such, she reluctantly gathers her cloak and satchel, exchanges farewells with the carers and housekeeper and with her parents, and then leaves the house before James and Lily can get emotional.

Together, they meander their way up to the manor house, along the tree-lined drive that connect the two houses, through a small stretch of sun-dappled woodland, passed immaculately manicured lawns and a vibrant, blooming rose garden. Peverell is beautiful in the Summer.

As they walk, the silence between them is pensive, but comfortably so, but it's broken by Sirius, who slows to walk beside her.

"How are you feeling, Hallie?"

"I'm fine."

Sirius eyes her, dubious. "It's been an eventful day."

"I suppose," she concedes, "I'm glad they're safe."

"Me too."

"I think the Family Magic will help them."

Sirius hums is acknowledgement. "It certainly seems like it."

They reach the main house before Helena can flounder for anything else to say. They're greeted there by Peverell's aged butler, Mr Hastings, who has known Helena her entire life, and her father for most of his life before her. He has a smile for them, warm and welcoming, but also inquisitive, and it's no surprise when he asks about how her parents have adjusted. Helena and her three companions aren't the only people invested in James' and Lily's wellbeing.

"They seem to be settling in well," Emilyn informs him.

"I'm pleased to hear it," Mr Hastings acknowledges, a sincere smile on his face, "It's good to have them home."

"You have Helena to thank for it," Sirius opines, "With everything going on, she thought they'd be safer here."

Sirius slings an arm over Helena's shoulders as he speaks, the brief squeeze he gives her as proud and affectionate as the smile on his face. Emilyn and Remus nod their agreement, and Mr Hastings is entirely unsurprised.

"You are a credit to your family, my Lady."

Helena flushes, abashed but pleased. The man had known her parents and grandparents, has spent more time with the family portraits than Helena herself. He might be part of the staff, but he's no less a valued member of the Peverell household (such as it is, these days), and his words are high praise. "Thank you, Mr Hastings."

The butler tips his head in a nod of acknowledgement, eyes crinkled up in a fond smile, and leads them towards the informal drawing room, where an elf has set out a spread of refreshments for them, tea and coffee, scones and crumpets and the like. They settle in to enjoy it, glad to take some time out to collect themselves after an emotional morning. Mr Hastings excuses himself as they do so, Emilyn sets about pouring drinks for everyone, and Helena's mind meanders back towards Isolde Cottage, and to the parents she'd left there.

It's hard not to feel guilty, abandoning them to the care of others, but they're in good hands, they're safe, and they're home. It doesn't feel like enough, but for now, it has to be.

-!- -#-

"I think I'm going to stay here a while."

Sirius falters in assisting Emilyn into her cloak, but his surprise is fleeting. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Helena replies, conscious of Remus' scrutiny, "There are some things I'd like to do, is all. Before I go back to school."

"Do you want us to stay?"

"No, thank you. I'll be all right."

After the morning they've all had, the adults are reluctant, but they do not protest. Peverell is Helena's family seat, it's safe, and she has every right to linger as she pleases. Moreover, it has been an emotionally taxing morning, and it is therefore entirely understandable that she would be reluctant to return to the crowded confines of Grimmauld Place.

"Be back in time for dinner," Emilyn instructs, "And keep your cloak and portkey on you."

Helena rolls her eyes. "I remember."

The adults depart, and Helena meanders her way towards the portrait gallery. She takes her time, content to take in the fresco scenes painted on the ceiling overhead, the tapestries and paintings and everything else her forbearers have left behind. Eventually, though, she reaches her destination, and Helena is unsurprised to find the acrylic likenesses of Dorea and Charles in their portrait frames.

Magical portraits are strange. An amalgamation of paint, magic, and their subject's memories, they're not alive in the traditional sense, though people generally treat them as if they are. Usually, they're created with a purpose - to educate, or advise, or what have you - but they're not genuine incarnations of their subjects, and Helena's not communing with the dead. Rather, they are only impressions made to serve those left behind, and the portraits of Helena's grandparents are no exception.

"What brings you to Peverell today, child?" The portrait of Grandfather Charles asks.

"We brought Mum and Dad home this morning."

"I recall Hastings mentioning it would happen," Grandmother Dorea's likeness acknowledges, "Is it already the 21st? How have they settled in?"

"So far, so good. The carers are optimistic that there won't be any issues."

"That's good," Grandfather Charles' portrait nods, mollified, "But surely, you didn't come here simply to tell us that?"

"I didn't," Helena confirms. The portraits don't have the same emotional attachment to the living as her grandparents had possessed in life, and Mr Hastings could have passed on the information just as well, "I'm here for another lesson."

A laugh. "Of course you are. What will it be then, Granddaughter? What shall we teach you today?"

"The Family magic," Helena replies, "There's far more to it than just manipulating clay. How do I build upon that foundation?"

"It's not just clay. It's earth and stone, as well. Learn to manipulate those, and then we'll talk about Transmutation and Elemental Conjuration."

Helena doesn't sigh or pull a face, though she wants to. It has taken her years to reach a point where manipulating clay - with her hands and her magic - is easy as breathing, and she doesn't relish the thought of spending just as long on stone and earth. There's a process to learning the Family Magic though - just as there is a process with every other subject Helena has studied - and she knows better than to take shortcuts.

The potential consequences to her body, to her mind and magic, are simply not worth it.

It would certainly be nice, though.

-!- -#-

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay. Chapter 13 wasn't cooperating, and now, neither is 14. Hopefully, Chapter 15 is kinder, and updates return to their regular fortnightly schedule, but semester starts back up this week, so who knows? Not me. Hope you enjoy. Until next time, -t.