Author's Note: I'm went on vacation!!! Woo-hoo! Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review, happy children!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. is the intellectual property of JK Rowling. No infringement is intended.
Chapter VI: That's My Girl
"Hi, Emily."
"Dad, what are you doing here?" I asked him. This was a little creepy. Hogwarts was my space. I was on top, I had my own reputation, I was the Reigning Queen of Quidditch, and I didn't need my dad buggering it up. I was sure that he'd constantly be breathing down my back, second-guessing my relationships with boys because that's just the way that my dad is, and I wouldn't be able to have any fun! I had this master plan that was three years in the making and was to be executed this year- upon stealing the Invisibility Cloak from James and Landon, I would sneak down to Snape's cupboard and switch all of his powdered ingredients to different jars with different labels so when he wanted to demonstrate a potion to us, it would be the wrong ingredients, explode in his face-rather, his big nose- and he would be humiliated in front of the entire class. Better yet, Kyle and Tom had help me plan it so that his cauldron would react to certain chemicals, and when they were added, he'd be reminded of a rather nasty incident years ago when a large hat with a stuffed vulture on top appeared on his head. Dad would have a fit if he found out if I did that. Albeit, a laughing fit, but Snape would make sure that Dad knew and then I would have to get in trouble. -And with Dad there, I wouldn't be able to mess around at all.
Although it was good to see him alive.
"Well-I-erm-"
Professors McGonagall and Snape were both talking rapidly to Gaston about his rash and unacceptable behaviour. Although Snape didn't tend to like Gryffindors, Charlotte's sweet ways were able to win over even the most hardhearted man- even if he refused to show it. Professor Dumbledore, who had confided in Mum and Dad that he didn't plan on retiring until Jack was through Hogwarts, was standing with his usual twinkling eyes narrowed at this man for causing a disturbance on his train and quite upset that he had the gall to rile up the students, who were peering out of their compartments in questioning, and accost the Head Girl.
"Why did you leave Gaston, Emily?" he asked me instead of answering, with his hands on my shoulders and bent so he could look me in the eye. I raised my chin defiantly to stare into his questioning eyes that, although hard with scolding, were soft with the typical fatherly love that I was used to seeing from him.
I shrugged. When Mum and Dad asked a question like this, one that other parents may ask rhetorically, they sincerely wanted an honest answer. I wasn't sure that I liked this method - it made us confess to motives that we didn't usually want to think about, such as 'I was mad' and see how stupid and unfounded our actions were. But one thing that I did like about Mum and Dad's disciplinary actions was that they wanted to think like we were and to see what was going on in our heads that would cause us to do what we did. They understood that it is very hard to sit and do nothing when antagonized, so they empathize but not without discipline. They never jumped to conclusions when we were in trouble (or at least Mum didn't) and wanted us to explain things to them. I told myself that when I had children, I would adapt this method as well. I learned a lot from my parents, as everyone does, I suppose, and I knew that whatever they were doing, they were doing it right.
"He was…I just…I wanted to be alone," I told him.
"And yet, you decided to spend your time 'alone' talking to Charlotte? Hello, Charlotte, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Weasley, thank you," she replied as she pretended not to be listening to our conversation. Dad nodded at her before averting his attention back to me.
"Look," he said, "I know how you feel. I hate having these people around as much as you do." He nodded his head in the direction of Gaston, who was still under the torment of McGonagall and Snape while Dumbledore, and now Charlotte, pierced him with cold glares. "But," There's always a 'but', "You really haven't a choice. Mum and I told the Artemis that it really wasn't necessary, but he doesn't really like listening to us. Besides, after the incident at the Ball, he thinks it best that we travel escorted for the time being. I know that you don't like it, and I know that it's an adjustment, but you're not the only one making it. Just try to make do, all right? There's only an hour to Hogwarts; you can deal with it."
I nodded, and Dad sent a wink and a grin at me. "That's my girl."
Ugh, it was starting. My reputation was already beginning to crumble under the weight of fatherly terminology.
I smiled at him, nonetheless, and noticed that while he was speaking to me the train had started moving again
"So, what are you doing here, Dad?"
"You'll find out sooner or later," he said, with another wink. I hated it when he did that, and promptly told him so.
"Too bad," he said to me. Exasperated, I let out a sigh, grabbed the back of Godzilla's collar, and dragged him down the hall with me back to the compartment. I head Charlotte's suppressed giggles, and envisioned Dad's eyes twinkling.
Dad was right; it was only an hour to Hogwarts. Soon, the train was pulling up to the station, and we took seats in the horseless carriages.
Rachel had slipped into what I called 'Prom Queen' mode. As soon as we stepped out of the Hogwarts Express, she was all flipping hair, smiling, waving and flirting. Of course, it would take her five hours to get ready every morning and the carefree, fun-loving best friend that I had come to know would only come out every once in awhile- usually after lights out- and Prom Queen Rachel would take over. She was the model now and everyone knew it. If they didn't, then they sure as hell would. It really pissed me off.
Ron…
Emily was surprised to see me. I'd expected as much, but she looked as if she were ready to throw me out of the train. I wasn't quite sure if that was because she wanted to go on beating the bloke up or because she didn't want me at Hogwarts. I wouldn't blame her on either respect.
Dumbledore was quite happy to have me taking Hagrid's place as the teacher of Care of Magical Creatures. I was quite happy to have it. Albus was the only one that we told of the case (we told him after he hired me) and was delighted that he could be of assistance. He had been quite shaken up over Fitzgerald's death, as everyone who knew the man was.
The case was going nowhere, and there were rumours of the case being abandoned. Hermione insisted that she wouldn't let that happen for a while, but then had to step back and look at the whole thing retrospectively. Had she not had any personal involvement in the case, she said, then she probably would close it unsolved as much as she hated to. We had a pretty big row over that, but then I came to see the reason of what she said. We had no leads, no suspects, and no witnesses. The killer was good and left no evidence for even our best forensic scientists to pick up. What did we have to go on? Despite the immobility of the case, I came to Hogwarts anyway. Harry, Hermione and I were still uneasy about leaving Emily by herself. True, Hogwarts is the safest place on earth, but for someone who can get away with killing a judge in a building swarming with MADD operatives and get away without a trace, it shouldn't be too hard a place to infiltrate.
Emily…The Sorting always seemed perpetually long to me. I just wanted the food, baby. Hogwarts food was even better than Grandmum Weasley's, and that was a pretty hard quota to top. This Sorting was somewhat more interesting, though. We got to see which House Will would be placed in. Although I'd like to see him in Gryffindor, he seemed like a Hufflepuff to me.
I still didn't know what Dad was doing. He was sitting at the staff table, talking with Professor Dumbledore as McGonagall led the first years and a very embarrassed Will into the Great Hall. One by one, they came up to the stool and were sorted into their proper house.
When Will came up, he seemed like he was nervous but trying to hide it under a cocky swagger that certainly didn't suit him. He may have been the big-man on campus at his old school, but this was my turf.
As cute as he was, I was starting not to like the bloke. I mean, he never said anything, kept to him self in a very snobby, I'm-too-good-for-you kind of way, and he insisted on taking the window seat on the Hogwarts Express. A complete waste of space.
"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted. Oh well, I supposed that I would have to put up with him this year. Maybe he would loosen up. He took the seat next to Kyle as the rest of the first-years were sorted and the two of them began to have a hushed conversation even as Professor Dumbledore stood to make his speech.
"Welcome to a new year here at Hogwarts!" he said, beaming. "A few new things will be taking place. Mr. Flytrap, our new caretaker, has posted a list of things that were previously prohibited that he now gives permission for you, the students, to use. However, he requests that you use moderation and also take note to the list of prohibited items that he has also posted. I trust that you will all…erm…adhere to his wishes," he stole an amused glance in the direction of Fiona and Jessie, two seventh years who loved to cause trouble. He continued, "Also, I would like to announce this year's Head Boy and Girl- two students that I believe are competent in every way, and exude the exemplary traits that I wish all Hogwarts students would emulate."
May I gag?
"Landon Weasley and Charlotte Bronte, both from Gryffindor, will be taking over those positions this year.
"I am also pleased to announce that we have two new staff members this year. Taking over for Madame Hooch, may she rest in peace, will be Mr. Oliver Wood, former Keeper for England's national Quidditch team!"
Applause exploded in the Great Hall, the loudest of which came from me. Wood insisted on standing up and making a speech.
"I would like to say," he started, trying on a professional air that certainly didn't suit him (he was friends with Dad, Uncle Harry and my twin uncles), "That this should be a very good season for Quidditch! This year, we will be re-trying out all of the team members along with the potential players. Sign-ups will be in the Common Rooms, and try-outs should be next week sometime. And on behalf of Quidditch lovers everywhere, namely, this man," he pointed to Dad who chuckled, "Quidditch rocks. Hogwarts rocks, too. And…where is she? There! Emily Weasley rocks all! You are awesome, Em! I am counting on you, for several bets are riding on your shoulders, got it? Thank you, and see you on the pitch!"
"Thank you, Mr. Wood, for that…stimulating…speech. Also joining us this year will be Doctor Ronald Weasley teaching Care of Magical Creatures, for all of you that are signed up for the class." The applause was almost bigger for Dad than Mr. Wood, the loudest of which came from Gryffindors- namely, the Weasleys. Dad's ears took on a tinge of pink as he grinned sheepishly. "Would you care to make a few words, Ron?" The Headmaster asked. Dad shook his head. It appeared that the sooner he wasn't the centre of attention, the better.
So, Dad was teaching at Hogwarts. Bugger.
Ron…I got home rather late that night. Jack was already in bed, and I assumed that Hermione would be upstairs as well. She had left a note on the fridge, telling me just how long to heat up the leftovers. But, of course, with Hermione's culinary skills, if I left it in the stove this long it would probably be burnt to a crisp. I wasn't very hungry after the speech, though, so I went upstairs, expecting to find Hermione reading in bed. Perhaps it was just the familiarity of being together or the slight paranoia from years past that kept us from sleeping comfortably and soundly unless in the other's arms, but unless Hermione was there, I slept fitfully, if I even was able to sleep at all. And I knew that whenever I worked late, she never slept until I came home, no matter how late it was. I would always find her reading in bed, taking a catnap, or just lying there. I didn't mind; quite honestly, it made me feel loved. When I went upstairs, I cracked open the door to Jack's room, as usual. He was sleeping soundly, his sheets balled up into knots at the foot of his bed. I entered quietly and righted them, tucking them to his chin.
"Goodnight, Daddy," he said, not opening his eyes.
"Good night, Jack."
As I walked into the master bedroom, I was greeted with the heavy smell of perfume. I wondered what Hermione was up to as I tried not to cough from the cloud of lavender that was wafting in my direction. Hermione wasn't in bed.
"Mione? Where are you?"
No answer. I followed the smell, and had to bit back my laughter at what I saw. Hermione was lying in the bathtub under a mountain of bubbles, a facial mask on, cucumbers on her eyes, her hair tied up, chamber music playing and candles lit everywhere. The look on her face was of utter relaxation, which I figured was good for her. She had been working very hard lately, and could go for some relaxing. She appeared to be asleep.
"Hermione? What are you doing?" I asked her.
"Expholiating."
"Oh…right."
I was about to suggest a massage to help with the relaxing, when she sat upright, the cucumbers falling from her eyes. Five…four…three…two…
"I've just thought of something!"
"What's that?"
"Hand me my robe, please."
"Explain," I said, as I handed over the bathrobe.
"I can't believe that I've only just thought of this. What if Fitzgerald wasn't entirely innocent? What if he…he made a deal, and couldn't keep up his end, and the time was up, so they sent out a hit man, and-"
"Wait, wait, slow down," I beseeched.
"No time," she said, pulling on a jumper. She had been getting dressed throughout her tirade. "Get me Atticus, please. I'll be at the office." She haphazardly twisted her hair and stuck two chopsticks like things in it, and somehow, it managed to stay in a bun. "Don't wait up."
"Can't this wait until the morning?"
"No." She grabbed her briefcase and walked out of the room to disapparate from downstairs. Would I get any sleep that night? Probably not.