Dear Readers:
This chapter was longer, but I have chopped it and will be tweaking it until I am satisfied. More later this week
Albus Dumbledore has been channeled for your reading pleasure by Vardya.
I hope that you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.
Sincerely
Chaos
~
Like Cats and Dogs
Chapter 15
~
The day ended with Emily taking her turn at Defense Against the Dark Arts with the fifth year Gryffindors.
The children were spottily educated. Apparently the two best teachers had been Remus Lupin and a Death Eater using Polyjuice to masquerade as Alastor Moody.
Hermione Granger asked how "it was taught in your day."
"Well, Miss Granger, as I am still breathing, it is still my day." The girl turned a pale shade of beet, but Emily continued. "The position has actually been open at least since I was a first year, possibly a good while before that. The job is cursed, and now nobody wants to take the shot at breaking the curse."
Snape's tail was going a mile a minute, but he said nothing. He'd been… solicitous all day, really. Emily had to explain that what was boomed at excessive volume in the mornings Howlers was just a version of what everyone said at a much lower volume anyway. As for Lucius, well, he was just Lucius – he was madder than hell at her and Missy for not being good little pureblood brides and bearing their first babes before their twentieth birthdays.
Emily took one look at the lesson plan and gritted her teeth. She taught it the way that Dumbledore wished, but set the children up in pairs to learn blocking, deflecting and shielding. By the time the class ended, the youngsters were sweaty and weak in the knees.
"How did you get so bloody fast?" Neville Longbottom panted.
"Because I've had to be bloody fast or be bloody sorry that I wasn't, Neville."
The class finished in a thoughtful silence.
"I want you all to work on your shielding before the next class. A good shield will help you save your energy for offense rather than using yourself up in blocking and deflection." She pulled Lavender Brown to her feet and gave her a push to get her started to the door. "Read chapters one through three and bring me examples of when to use deflect and when to use a grounding block. Now go have tea, lots of it, and eat something. Take a nap before dinner if you need, you've used a lot of energy."
Once the room was empty, she lowered herself slowly into the chair behind the desk.
"Cerridwen's Cauldron! How in hell do you keep it up, sir? I've been this tired after a week in the Andes and it's only Tuesday!"
~
Lucius, finally freed from his meeting of interminable length and indeterminate purpose – something about textbooks for Muggle studies - came sweeping into the entry hall just in time to see Roderick Goyle and Clarence Crabbe scuttling up the stairs from the dungeons.
"Fucking mad. The girl is just… I mean even if she is a Mayborne, her mother was a Deslauriers!"
"What did you expect? That Mayborne line's always been tetchy. It's all that hot blood, I tell you. Better that they outcross that girl with some solid, cooler-headed stock."
Ah, breeding, bloodlines and matchmaking. For the pureblooded families it was an obsession that approached that of Quidditch. As a Mayborne, though, the line of inheritance ran exclusively through the females. Meridy Mayborne was Emily's great-aunt, Emily was the daughter of Meridy's nephew Phillip and Jacinthe Deslauriers.
Lucius had nothing against the Maybornes, but That Girl's disdain for the proper duties of her sex was flagrant even for that nest of oddballs. Emily made no pretense of seeking a proper match – as the traditions of her line decreed. The Mayborne heir was by tradition free to make a match of her own choosing – That Girl had spurned even this. Even when her parents disinherited her, it meant little. The fortune and estates resided with Meridy who – along with her mad husband – simply stated that the Emily was still heir and left her be.
Even worse, Artemisia had rejected the match arranged for her in order to remain with Emily. Topping it all off, Lucius could do nothing – Artemisia was the LeStrange heir, and her grandmother LeStrange refused to force the issue.
Pureblood girls of good family left their maidenhood – guarded by chastity charms -in their marriage beds, bore two or three heirs and were generally free to do as they pleased once the children entered school. It was purely infuriating that both Emily and Artemisia were squandering the future of pureblooded wizards, and nobody seemed to see it! There would have been time for gallivanting about after their duties had been done!
Instead, she and Artemisia were mercenaries - hired wands consorting with nefarious wizards and the most cunning of lowborns and Mudbloods.
Lucius' mouth flattened into a grim line. Time to teach the lesson and hope that this time it would take. He'd not underestimate her again.
Cloak swirling, Lucius brushed by the hulking Crabbe and Goyle, descending into the dungeons, his temper darker with every step.
He'd have words for Severus about the girl, too. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that little confrontation! His friend's temper was terrible and his methods… could be very interesting to watch.
If Severus came back, that is. The man's family…!
The Lord had summoned them, but Severus had not come. Voldemort said it was as if there was nothing to summon – as if the Mark was not there or that Severus was too far away to feel it. Lucius had relayed that someone else was teaching Severus' classes. Both he and his Lord agreed that for Severus to be called away at all now that things were happening meant only a catastrophe – which one of the Snapes was that catastrophe was anyone's guess. The Department of Mysteries was a Witches Weekly gossip column compared to that clan.
Lucius reached the door to Severus' office and heard the voices raised within. The volume had to be considerable; the oak of the door was four inches thick.
The door flew open and two men came flying out, passing Lucius without a glance and heading quickly for the stairs.
He stepped into the doorway and looked in.
"Hello, Lucius. What's the matter? Someone sticking pins in your doll again?"
~
Some people are born to bastardy and some have bastardy thrust upon them, but it was Emily's firm belief that there was no bigger bastard in the world that her she-mate's father. He acquired bastardy, accumulated it and wore it like crown jewels. He was a bigot, a lecher, a man who treated his whims as law and law as whim.
"L'heure est venue, mon joli moineau." The courtly bow and malicious smile were just perfect, the voice enough to melt the thighs and resolve of men and women alike. Or boys and girls – Lucius liked his 'toys' young.
With a roll of her eyes, she shot back, "Lucius, The only cure for you is a visit to Doctor Guillotine. What must I do to put you out of my misery?"
~
Severus had once heard a curious expression from an American warlock.
"The shit's about to hit the fan."
Not really understanding what anyone might be doing hurling excrement at a lady's fan, Severus had asked for clarification. The fan in question was a Muggle ventilation device consisting of canted blades on an axle spinning at high velocity and powered by electricity. He and the warlock – who had never actually witnessed shit hitting the fan – borrowed (broke in to) the wind tunnel in the engineering school of a Muggle university and engaged the device with square yard of fresh manure and a small catapult.
The results were completely disgusting, but rather impressive. It was easy to see the reason for the earthy but apt metaphor. Once the shit hit the fan, everything in that tunnel was coated with it to a greater or lesser degree.
It might be difficult so assign appellations to the two people in front of him right now, but the shit was about to hit the fan in a spectacular fashion. Emily had been forced to deal with some truly appalling behavior and Severus had given the roughest side of his feline tongue to a few parents who thought they could abuse a professor over their spawn's misbehavior.
Emily, however headstrong and thick-skinned she liked to think herself, was still young enough that the words hurt. By the time Crabbe and Goyle came in the door, she was angry enough to pull out the stays of her temper and let fly. She tied them up with their own words and whipped them sharply with her anger, sending them out the door with everything but a kick in the rump. The last pair to accost her were Gryffindors, and she let them have it from the second they walked in the door, quoting extensively from the Howlers. Then she added that - since they seemed to find the services of her kind so repugnant -she had taken the liberty of forwarding their views to Reginald MacGuffin himself for whatever action that worthy gentleman deemed appropriate.
They went out the door as if catapulted.
Severus had hoped for a chance to soothe her temper. Sitting in her lap this morning had provoked some agitated stroking that seemed to ease her and he – altruistically, of course - wanted to see if it would work again. It helped that her lap was comfortable, too.
When Lucius Malfoy appeared in the doorway with arrogance on full blast, Severus cursed. Lucius had vented now and then about his daughter and her she-mate – and once Severus would have agreed with him – but the grudge was approaching epic proportions. Emily got the drop on Lucius the last time that they crossed wands and the pale pureblood had been itching for a rematch ever since.
Their little exchange this morning had been Lucius slapping Emily in the face and Emily spitting in Lucius' eye – courtly etiquette and flawless French aside.
Both were spoiling for a fight and they were by Thor going to have one.
He tried to trip Lucius. He tried to trip Emily. He bit ankles. He batted at wands.
Stop this at once! Both of you! Goddamnit, Lucius, you're letting a schoolgirl push your buttons! Emily…your temper, hold that temper, girl!
"- you harlot! How dare you speak to me that way!"
"Oh stow it, Lucius. Moral outrage only works when one, in fact, has morals! And furthermore, if you have any to say about me and my arrangements with Missy – which are no more your business than your patronage of whorehouses is mine –"
"You impudent bitch! Your willful self-indulgence is squandering not one but two legacies that are thousands of years -"
"Spare me the bloodstock lecture, Lucius! I refuse to be defined by my uterus! As for Missy, she can't even function with a male –"
"Others have made the sacrifice before her! An understanding mate – "
"She has one. Me!"
"Your flouting of our ways and traditions knows no limits, does it? First you go skipping around the world when you should be at home, and now you presume to teach! You mix the best of pure blood with the lowliest of –"
"Say it, Lucius! Say it and see what it gets you! You might not like the way I teach this class and that is fine by me, you haven't liked anything I've done since I was fifteen, but Inanna help you if you call my students –"
"- Mongrels, Muggle-lovers and Mudbloods!"
Severus made a last ditch effort to stand down the cyclone and made a bad mistake – he turned his back to Lucius. Strong hands snatched him into the air and held him by the scruff hard enough to bruise.
"Pamiu, no! Lucius, you put him down or I swear…"
Severus felt… something. It teased the tips of his whiskers like a feather. It was something familiar, naggingly so, and made him think of starlight on snow. In the moment that he had to feel it, Lucius threw him in the wardrobe and slammed the door, leaving Severus tangled among his spare robes. Hurling himself at the door he yowled like the air-raid siren to which Emily had so rudely compared him.
The words came through the keyhole and filled him with dread.
"Now you listen to me, you Sapphic strumpet…"
"Heimlichtus!"
With the basso profundo roar that followed Emily's shout, Severus knew that only an act of the Gods or Albus Dumbledore could stop the mayhem that was about to ensue.
~
It was as if every organ in every church and cathedral in Britain had vacated their lower registers simultaneously. Ron Weasley inelegantly called it the burp of a troll gorged on ale and Fizzing Whizbees - and it belched Lucius Malfoy up the stairs and spat him out onto the stones of the hall to lie in a heap of dark wool and disheveled blond hair.
Students and faculty stood stunned as the wizard picked himself up from the floor, his face set in a masque of stony wrath. Stalking to the staircase, he carefully set his wand on the stairs. With a flourish, he whipped the cloak from his shoulders, giving a brisk shake before laying it over the balustrade. Removing the skin-tight black leather gloves, he tucked them in the pocket of his cloak. The green wool coat was hung from the stone finial, and the green cravat tucked neatly into the pocket along with the starched and pressed collar.
Steady footfalls echoed up the dungeon staircase as Lucius unbuttoned the first three onyx buttons on his shirt. He undid the cufflinks, rolling his sleeves past the elbow before he turned and picked up his wand.
Clad in dark grey trousers, waistcoat and shirtsleeves, the wizard stalked to the stairs leading into the dungeons and glared down. "You sparky little bitch, don't presume to be stroppy with me!"
The faculty and some of the parents began herding the children out by main force, others ran for Dumbledore's office. A few stayed to watch, avid to see Lucius get his swelled head deflated or the Akkie taken down a rung or two.
"Lucius, tell me what to do, threaten me, or spout out the pureblood bullshite one more time and I'll beat your aristocratic arse black, blue and Slytherin green!"
Lucius pointed his wand down the staircase and a blast of light went flying, darting back, he moved nimbly out of the way of a series of hexes skimming the floor at ankle height.
The battle was begun.
~
Auror David Sotherland peered around the corner very carefully. The two were keeping well clear of students, but some of those hexes and curses being flung about were bloody dangerous. Malfoy was bad enough on his own, but the Acquisitor had a few nasty tricks up her sleeve as well. She had his grudging admiration for going wand to wand with Malfoy, though – if she could handle that, why not become an Auror instead of a hired wand?
Creeping along the hall, he could hear faint echoes of the fight. Both combatants were very quiet, moving with stealth and cunning as they fought a guerilla duel.
There was a back-and-forth blast of hexing in the cloister and a yelp from the Akkie, followed by a curse from Malfoy and muttered 'finite' from both parties. Malfoy had experience, but the woman was fast and agile. She'd actually climbed down the ivy on the walls and gone in through a window to come up underneath Malfoy. To his credit, the dark wizard held off a barrage of nuisance spells and hit the girl with one that lifted her off her feet by the back of her trousers.
The return volley had included a goosing hex that widened Malfoy's eyes.
There were some perks to this job. Seeing Lucius Malfoy – the arrogant dandy – being kept on his toes by a woman young enough to be his child was one of them.
A door banged against stone and a formation of red fireballs went streaking by. Thin bolts of blue volleyed the other way. David crept closer, now able to hear the muttered invective of the combatants.
Wand out, he entered the staircase and stood on the landing, one flight went up and the other down. Which way? He took a step and a loose flagstone grated under him. Light flashed above and below.
Oh shi-
~
Emily looked at her wand. How in Frigga's name had that happened? She'd sent a spell to root her opponent in place, not to turn him into a potted palm! From Lucius' mutters, the effect was not one that he had intended, either.
"Non-combatant down!" Emily called. "Cease fire?"
"Agreed." Lucius called back.
Emily kept her wand drawn, just in case. Creeping up to the plant in the decorative pot – trust Lucius to stick in a Greek revival urn, the fop! – she made sure that the spell could be reversed. It was very disconcerting to see a tree with eyes, wand clutched in a branch.
"Sorry. I'll fix you up. There's a potion for this kind of thing – when two spells make the effect of a third. Just sit – "
"Time's up!" A purple orb streaked for her head and she deflected it into the stone wall.
"Look, must run. I'll be back to put you right the minute I'm done kicking his sorry arse. Back soon!"
Emily went streaking down the spiraling stairs as fast and as quietly as she could, keeping out of Lucius' line of sight until she reached a sally port. Whatever one thought of Master Filch, he was an excellent caretaker, the oak and iron shutter lifted silently of oiled hinges.
The drop was short and Emily rolled into a crouch, waiting for Lucius.
~
Minerva McGonagall was seriously considering retirement.
Emily Mayborne had run by her classroom at speed, tossing scattershot Impedimentia over her shoulder.
Lucius Malfoy had blown by in hot pursuit, firing some spells that Minerva would wash his mouth out with laundry soap for daring to utter in her vicinity.
When she caught them both, they were in for a dressing-down that would leave them in their socks. Lucius was an arrogant bully and Emily could be a stubborn hothead, but this was beyond the pale! Dueling in the halls was bad enough between students, but between a professor and a parent, not to mention a Governor?
Minerva leaned against the wall, using a reflection charm to peer around the corner. There was a strange snarling sound, somewhere close by but she couldn't spot…
A bloodcurdling scream shook the halls, and in the infirmary Poppy Pomfrey reached for a headache powder.
~
"Ah,
Narcissa. Good evening." Albus smiled at the blonde head in the candelabra
on his desk. "Sorry it took me so long to answer your call, but I've an
incident here. What do you require?"
"So sorry to call you away, Headmaster," she smiled, "but I was wondering if you had seen Lucius? He was supposed to be meeting me for dinner."
Oh… my.
"Well actually. Narcissa, Lucius is the incident. He and Emily Mayborne are attempting to do very bad things to each other."
By the time the last word left his mouth, Narcissa Malfoy was standing on his desk and flicking candle wax from her robes.
"I'm afraid that Lucius' Howler this morning rather got the young woman's wind up and her return volley scorched his pride…" His voice tapered off as the woman drew her wand.
"Where
are they?"
"Now,
that is the problem…"
~
The good thing about the top of Gryffindor tower, Hermione thought, that that you had a grand view for miles around.
The bad thing was that it was so high!
Yet here she was with her omniculars, straddling a stone griffon - holding on so tight that her knees hurt and her thighs cramped - looking about for an evil dark wizard and a… a someone she had no reason to feel like she wanted to claw to shreds, that's what.
Rem – Professor Lupin was an adult. He was twenty YEARS older than she was. He was also, not so incidentally, a werewolf. It was very silly to feel what she was feeling and considering a werewolf's sense of smell, a little embarrassing as well.
She liked him, even when finding out he was a werewolf made her cry into her pillow. First Gilderoy Fuckwit and now a…
… a nice, gentle, kind man who got a little odd – not to mention four-footed and furry - around the full moon?
Why couldn't she just like somebody normal? A nice Hufflepuff. An engaging Ravenclaw. Even Slytherins could be somewhat charming when not being utter gits. Maybe Percy? Or another girl?
"Hey, Hermione! See anything?" Harry's voice jerked her back to reality and she made a guilty sweep with her omniculars.
"Nnn… got something!" Lucius Malfoy was no good at sneaking in the physical aspect. He might be adept at sleight-of-hand and misdirection, but when it came to really sneaking he was just bloody awful. "They're headed for the pitch and…"
There were golden brown eyes frowning into the omniculars.
"And what, Hermione?" Ron called from his lookout.
"And the lot of you are in very deep trouble."
Hermione lowered her omniculars.
Whoops.
Remus Lupin, on broomback and looking as if he'd been rousted from a shower let fly with a dressing down. "Harry, Ron, get back down into the tower. Fred, George, I'm surprised… no, actually I'm not, but you ought to have better sense. Alicia, Katie, Angelina – back in you go. The rest of you – what the hell were you thinking? It's not like you haven't already broken records for the loss of House points. What are you doing, racing Slytherin for the bottom?"
By the time the last word left his lips, every Gryffindor who had been hanging out of the windows, sitting on ledges or hanging from the crenellations was back in the tower.
That golden glare fixed on her once more, "And I'm very surprised at you, Hermione. You're a prefect! And… where is your broom?"
As long as she'd been taking the very basic flying courses, she was still very uneasy on a broom. Even with Harry, Ron, Fred and George coaching her she was worse than Neville.
"Someone brought me up." Harry, but Remus was angry enough without knowing that.
With an annoyed growl he scooted back on the broom, "Come on then, I'll bring you down."
Hermione's legs tightened on the griffon, fear sucking the spit out of her mouth.
For a moment, hurt flashed across Remus' face. "Surely you know that you have nothing to fear from me, Hermione?"
"It… it's not that. Not that you're… a werewolf." She felt her face heat, "I'm afraid of heights." Oh, what a stupid fear for a witch to have!
Remus' mouth dropped into an 'O' of surprise. "Ah. All right. Look, just swing a leg over, I'll come up close and you can slide on…"
Hermione then made a very bad mistake – she looked down.
The Gryffindor common room was on the seventh floor of Gryffindor Tower, the dormitories and baths rising for eight stories above that, with the top of the tower being seventeen stories up. Here she was, sitting on the back of a stone creature, hanging out into nothing but air.
She brought her gaze up again
A bird came winging in to perch on the griffon's ear and regard her with a quizzical tilt of its head.
Tearing her eyes off the bird, Hermione's stomach lurched and she was suddenly very, very dizzy.
"Hermione?"
Her hands clenched the griffon's stone mane. She was sliding the griffon was sliding and she was going to fall all the way down and it was a long way down and damn it to hell how had she let Harry drop her off here and …
"Hermione." Lupin was now to one side of her, thigh to thigh. She was hyperventilating, silver-rimmed black spots whirled through her vision and her body felt slick and chilled with sweat.
"Hermione. Look at me, not at the ground. Come on, turn your head and look at me. Silly kitten," he cajoled as she carefully turned her head, "you didn't think about how to get down before you climbed up, now did you?" He slipped an arm around her waist. "Come on, I'm going to lift you right over, pull your leg over, that's right. I won't let you fall, you'd land in the rose bushes and Filch would just have a fit…"
Suddenly his arm tightened and there was nothing underneath her but air and she screamed…!
The next thing she knew there was a babble of voices and something warm and wet slobbering all over her face. Her arms here locked tight around someone's torso and she shook so hard that her teeth actually chattered, with that someone's (oh, dear God, it had to be R- Professor Lupin!) arm cradling her shoulders.
"- she never told me she was afraid of heights!"
"- never told anyone –"
"- she's always been stiff on her broom –"
"- some just never get the trick of it, that's all we thought it was –"
"Severus keeps common potions in the large cabinet in his office, Harry. Bring me up the calming draught, and stay clear of the combat!"
Opening her eyes, she was once again assaulted by Toffee-tongue. The Border Collie familiar gave a bark and wagged his tail so hard the air hummed with its passage. Ron, Harry, Ginny and half of Gryffindor made a circle around them, all talking at once with Harry and Ron looking utterly guilt-stricken.
"Be right back, Hermione." Harry turned and ran.
And Hermione was sitting between Remus Lupin's thighs, her arms around his lean torso, her head tucked under his chin – with her former room-mates giving her what they thought to be a surreptitious thumbs-up.
Hermione desperately hoped that it was possible to die of embarrassment.
~
Lucius faced the little bitch down.
Wand to wand they stood on the grass of the pitch, magic so thick in the air that one might scrape it with a fingernail.
Emily Mayborne had been a worthy opponent. Inventive. Tenacious. Skilled.
And now that he had her on open ground, he would teach her a lesson that she would never forget.
~
Harry almost did not go into the office. The howling and thumping from the cabinet made him think 'boggart.'
But Hermione needed that potion – mostly because of him.
Harry felt that he should have known – as much as he and the others practiced with her, Hermione never seemed to become comfortable on a broom. He had never thought that it might be afraid of heights instead of the broom.
"MEE OWWWT! NOWWWWW! MEE OWWWT!"
If that was a boggart in there, it was doing a great impression of Professor Mayborne's familiar. Taking a long handled spoon from the wall, Harry lifted the latch, hoping that his Riddikulus would be up to snuff.
The latch snicked and the door slammed open under the impact of a large amount of furious feline.
With tail corkscrewed, ears awry, and fur bristling in every direction, the huge black cat landed in the middle of the floor and gave Harry an evil eye that would have done Snape proud.
"Well, you howl like a banshee, but you're no boggart." Harry sighed and nearly went limp from relief, afraid that if it had been a boggart that his deepest fears would have come leaping out of that door. What he wouldn't give to be afraid of heights or spiders! Harry turned to the cabinet, looking for the calming draught – ah, there it was.
"Yow! FFFFT!"
The bloody cat was stalking him! Back hunched up and tail like a bottlebrush, it came right for Harry in a stiff-legged skitter.
"Hey! Hey! I'm just getting a potion for a friend! Professor Lupin sent me for a calming draught!" He fumbled for his wand and nearly went over backwards when the cat lunged for him. "Hermione had a bad scare and she needs this! I'd be more worried that Malfoy's going to pound your witch into the pitch than –"
The beast had a temper-fit that was almost Snapeish, but Harry thought that the cat chucked in some words that Snape would never dare to utter within a mile of Hogwarts. With a last virulent hiss – that Harry thought he nearly understood – the cat turned and left so fast that there was almost a hole in the air.
Carefully shutting the cupboard, Harry shook his head. "Weird, weird cat."
~
Narcissa Malfoy exited Albus Dumbledore's office by jumping out of the window.
With that august gentlewizard's broom.
At least it had a fair turn of speed – it was no Firebolt, but a perfectly serviceable, vintage Silver Star.
"Damn it, Lucius, don't you hurt that girl." And that girl had better not render any significant damage to Lucius. Narcissa expected to get years of wear out of her occasionally straying – but much-loved – husband.
Her occasionally straying, much-loved, meddling, tetchy husband who was obviously suffering from a case of testosterone poisoning and a sore ego that had affected his judgment. Not that Emily was much better for her retaliation in like kind with that 'banging like a shithouse door' comment, but she did have a better excuse – young, under duress and the recipient of a record-breaking amount of Howlers.
It was all the talk, really. No one had ever expected them to be opened in front of the whole school and the names of the senders were already gossip fodder, as was Emily's heartwarming response.
"LEAVE MY MATE OUT OF THIS, YOU CHEAP-SHOT, SEWER-MOUTHED, POTATO-BRAINED BAG OF PISS AND WIND! IF YOU THINK FOR ONE MINUTE I'LL BE COWED BY FOUL LANGUAGE, THUGGISH MANNERS AND THREATS, YOU'D BEST THINK AGAIN! IF YOU HAVE ANY ISSUE WITH THE WAY I TEACH THIS CLASS, THEN HAUL YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE AND SAY SO!"
Emily's response to Lucius had come by way off gossip as well, and oh how Lucius must have been stinging afterward. Pureblood boys were free to do as they pleased until marriage and Lucius frequently had - something that pleased Narcissa no end on her wedding night. Not that she had no experience at all, but those chastity charms were very specifically tied to one's maidenhead – Lucius went to great lengths before they said their vows to prove that there were other ways to pleasure.
Young witches nowadays disdained the power offered to them by convention and custom in marriage for a different freedom and all the uncertainties that went with it. In the important families is was becoming more common for girls to protest matches, even using their legal rights to avoid marriage entirely – as Emily and Artemisia had done.
Lucius dearly loved his little girl, but like all Malfoy men, he regarded himself the only ram in the flock and could be incredibly jealous of his females. The match arranged for Artemisia had been to a biddable boy, the son of one of Lucius' business partners. Emily was both female and interloper; not only had she refused to grant Lucius what he saw as his prerogative, she then had the cheek to abscond with his daughter! This was a grave insult to his manhood and Lucius – to say the very least – did not take it at all well.
Maybornes chose their own consorts, it had been so from before the Romans, possibly even before the Celts. Emily had chosen Artemisia, and had stuck by that decision against a great deal of virulent opposition.
Emily was a sweet child, but let her see even a hint of bullying and she exploded like a Howler herself. It had become reflex, automatic and unthinking, much like Severus' temper.
And where was Severus?
That was a question for another time, the answers she had in hand were in no way satisfactory.
Narcissa looped high, getting out of the way of any hexes that might be deflected skyward, and made a wide circle over the pitch.
There. A head of white-blond and a head of sparrow-brown, arms extended, wands pointing at each other.
Narcissa made a nearly vertical dive, flattening out just before she hit the pitch and flew between her husband and daughter-out-law – yanking wands from hands and nearly taking arms from sockets. The shouts of surprise and dismay were very satisfying.
The braking charm on the Silver Star was a little rough, but at least he didn't go head over heels off the broom. She glided back to the pair, staying on the broom as the high-heels would sink into the grass of the pitch.
"C'est comment vous tous les deux vous comportez?" she spat. "Bagarre comme les gangsters communs dans une ruelle? Où est votre raisonnement? Où sont vos façons? Je n'ai jamais été ainsi embarrassé dans ma vie!"
Lucius, enrobing himself in righteous arrogance, pointed to Emily - who made a very rude finger gesture in return. "Mon épouse, cette matière est entre cette fille et moi. Elle a insulté..."
Narcissa tightened her lips to a thin line and reminded herself that no woman in the history of the world ever won an argument by being a shrieking shrew.
"La matière a cessé d'être privée en la minute où vous lui avez envoyé ce Hurleur, Lucius! Mon Dieu! Là où a votre esprit allé que vous ouvriez un tel conflit l'en public, et excédent la table de petit déjeuner!" The embarrassment of that little misadventure was quite stinging. Family disputes should be kept within the family. What had Lucius been thinking? Or with what head had he been doing his thinking? Males! "Vous êtes-vous attendus à ce qu'elle avale une telle insulte? Je ne lui donnerais rien mais le dédaigne l'a eue non répondue." Emily might seem quiet and gentle, but the hot blood surged below the surface. Men frequently deluded themselves as to the nature of woman, but no more than women deluded themselves. "Vous étiez un imbécile pour penser que vous alliez combattre avec un moineau, ainsi ne vous plaignez pas si le faucon vous ratissait pendant que vous méritiez!"
A falcon, yes, that was an apt characterization. A bird might fly to your glove, submit to the hood and jesses, but that did not change her nature.
And there was another factor to consider:
"Et les réactions de Meridy Mayborne et son mari de fou pourraient prendre si vous nuisez à leur héritière êtes des horreurs que je ne souhaite pas contemple!" What that formidable woman might do was anyone's guess, the Maybornes were many things, but predictable was not one of them.
Lucius was abashed and Narcissa was very pleased. He could count the times she had raised her voice to him on the fingers of one hand - outside of childbirth, that is – and she hoped that was enough to get the man thinking!
Turning her attention to Emily - who despite everything had the delicate manners to pretend she had heard not a word spoken between husband and wife – Narcissa moderated her tone further. She wanted the falcon to come to the glove.
"Et vous, Emily, êtes-vous un enfant à combattre comme ceci? Vous devriez écouter et voir si les mots font dessiner le mérite avant vous votre bâton, ma fille." The stubborn girl's brows drew together in a frown and Narcissa stopped the outburst with an upraised finger a la McGonagall. "Je ne dis pas que vous devriez ne répondez pas à l'insulte, pour ignorer de telles choses invite simplement plus, mais ce que vous avez fait aujourd'hui vous a porté au niveau de ceux que vous dédaignez. Servez-vous de votre trempe ainsi que vos cerveaux - ou votre trempe se servira de vous."
"Mais-!"
This time Narcissa raised her voice."Subsistance silencieuse, petite fille idiote! Lucius ne devrait jamais n'aussi publiquement vous avoir insulté comme l'avez, mais que vous remboursiez son accès grossier l'en public - cependant accidentellement - des marques vous autant un imbécile que lui!"
Emily undertook a close study of the ground. Very good.
"Sans utilisation d'un Impardonnable je ne pourrais pas pouvoir en mesure de forcer non plus de vous à comme l'autre, mais j'aurai une trêve de vous toutes les deux. Et je veux dire pour l'avoir maintenant.
Mains d'agrafe, toutes les deux vous."
From their expressions they would rather stick their hands in a midden heap. Stubborn fools!
Raised voiced echoed across the lawns, heading toward the pitch, an odd happy jingling threaded through them.
"I would do it now, were I you," she looked from her husband to her daughter's mate, "and make this appear to be voluntary – which I can assure you both that it is not. The headmaster is not likely to be pleased with either one of you. It would be a good idea to mitigate some of his wrath."
With expressions of deep loathing, the pair circled each other looking more likely to spit in each other's face than to clasp hands. Finally Emily's small hand extended, disappearing into Lucius', and they managed to shake hands without vomiting on one another or attempting to break fingers.
It was a poor start, but at this point Narcissa would take what start she could.
~
Albus and Minerva strode to the pitch side by side.
"You have something in mind, Albus?"
"I do."
Minerva nodded and then cocked her head as a jingling sound made itself known. "Severus, coming this way at speed. He's really adapted quite well to the form, almost as if it was second nature to him."
Unfortunately, Severus made a most stubborn cat. There was still no sign that he would relent and release Sirius Black from his canine form. Stubborn boy!
Slowing to a walk, Albus and Minerva reached the pitch in time to see Lucius and Emily shake hands before Narcissa.
And in time to see the obstreperous pair wipe their hands on their trouser legs in utter disgust the minute the lady's back was turned.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Albus sighed.
A streak of black darted between his feet, bell chiming merrily as Severus joined the festivities with a yowling, hissing fit directed at both Lucius and Emily.
Feline form seemed to have disinhibited him somewhat, though with Severus' past, Albus could not say if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Severus had disappeared into his shell and his dungeons many years ago and had stayed there to a greater degree ever since. Even Albus only caught occasional glimpses of the person he remembered Severus to be, and was honored by the confidence each time.
Minerva took up a guard position, scowling full force at the miscreants, her lips invisible with disapproval. Both her former students shifted their feet, no doubt remembering her detentions. Narcissa radiated satisfaction as she tucked a pair of wands under her arm and moved off to the side, making room for the headmaster and his deputy.
"What is the meaning of this? Emily? Lucius?" Albus glanced from one to the other.
Emily winced, cheeks turning white and then pink. "I… oh, bloody hell." With a deep breath she met Albus' gaze. "No excuses, Headmaster. I lost my temper with a private dispute taken public."
As blunt as ever, she'd never attempted to evade responsibility even as a student. Albus was gratified that she had retained that trait.
Lucius looked, however, as if he were swallowing live toads and trying to pretend that he was not. His face and voice were stiff as he directed his gaze at a point just over Albus' left shoulder. "I apologise for my part in the… disruption."
Spitting loudly, Severus rowled angrily at Emily's feet.
"Ah. Professor Mayborne, I must ask that you please control your familiar." Severus in a spitting rage was not anything he would normally inflict upon a novice, but right now there was no choice. "Lucius? What role did you have in this 'disruption'?"
"Miss- Professor Mayborne and I have a private dispute, which has been – unfortunately – aired in public." Lucius' gaze never met his, his voice never straying from the marginally polite aloof tone. "It concerns the conduct of Professor Mayborne's… private affairs."
Emily was hissing under her breath at Severus and shook a finger at him. Severus' tail bushed and pointed skyward as he expressed outrage at vituperative length.
"It does, indeed, as your have made abundantly clear to anyone with hearing." Lucius at least had the grace to flush at that. As had most of the parents who had come to complain about Emily's return volley. "For what reason did you feel it appropriate to bring Professor Mayborne's conduct of her private life to light in an all-too-public brawl?"
Lucius' jaw clenched and he cut his eyes at Emily, who now had a struggling, spitting Severus by the scruff of his neck.
Emily glared back Lucius, but spoke in a civil tone. "He strongly objects to my mixing of the Houses, as well as to other matters which he obviously thought suitable for consumption over breakfast."
Albus felt his eyebrows draw into a scowl. In all his years he'd never been as scandalized as by the events of the morning. "Yes, I am afraid that there is little doubt in anyone's mind as to your opinions of each other, especially after this morning's events. However, I have words for both of you, and Lucius, you will hear them first. Professor Mayborne, will you please silence that cat!"
"Sorry, sir, once his temper starts working… Pamiu! Does the word 'paperweight' have any meaning for you?" Oddly enough, Severus quieted with a green-eyed furious glare for Emily as she tucked him under one arm.
Turning his gaze back to Lucius, Albus eyed the pale man coldly. "Lucius, while I obviously have no influence over the behavior of the members of this school's Board of Governors, I can express my feelings about the influence such behavior will have over students who may witness it. As such, I would like you to consider that your behavior very closely resembles that of the younger strata of this student body. Have you anything to say in your own defense?"
Lucius winced, his grey-eyes gaze dropping to the grass between his feet – if looks could kill, the turf would have been bristling with the hilts of daggers. "No, Headmaster, nothing."
"And as an adult and a parent, Lucius, what in your opinion would be a fair punishment for a student who would engage in similar behavior?"
Lucius took deep breath in, let a deep breath out before he replied. "Detention. Laborious detention. Cauldron scrubbing, probably, as I know that Severus keeps a room full of such for the purpose."
"Agreed. However, the Potions classroom is the domain of Professor Mayborne for the time being, and as she is also a miscreant here she will not mete out your punishment." That would be a certain recipe for disaster. Letting these two loose in a room full of sharp objects would be safer. "I think a writing detention will be suitable, and the writing will be at the level of the behavior you have displayed. I think 1,000 times writing, 'I am not twelve years old, although my behavior would seem to indicate otherwise' would be quite fitting. Are we in agreement, Lucius? Will you serve this punishment as an example to the students who have witnessed this execrable behavior this afternoon?"
Minerva snorted in derision and Albus gave her a quelling glance. He well knew her opinion of Lucius Malfoy.
With a face distinctly pink and words that sounded nearly strangled, Lucius replied, "Yes, sir."
Albus nodded, "Very well. Professor Mayborne."
"Sir." Emily stood pink-faced from shame and with Severus under one arm, but otherwise at attention.
"You are aware that I hold my faculty to certain standards with regard to their behavior?"
"Yes, headmaster. I am aware."
She met his gaze and Albus nearly sighed – she was waiting for him to do his worst. If he had known that putting the Prudissero on her would have resulted in this much resentment and wariness, he would have found another way.
"And has this incident demonstrated the upholding of those standards, Professor Mayborne?"
"No, Headmaster, demonstrably not." Her voice was flat enough to serve tea upon.
Emily had some lessons to learn as well as some that she very much needed to unlearn.
From dealing with Severus, Albus had learned some very applicable lessons and one of them applied now. Emily was waiting for a kick that was not coming. From the behavior of the wizarding world in general to Acquisitors, to the parents of both her and her mate standing in opposition to their lifepaths, Emily was becoming alienated from the larger world. She had become quick to see insult, fast to retaliate, taking no counsel other than that of her peers, and was deeply mistrustful of 'outsiders.'
He had seen this before and the consequences had been horrific.
It did not, however, let her off the hook for some very serious offenses.
"Would you say that your behavior is at the level of a twelve-year-old child's in this case, Professor Mayborne? As Lucius' has been described?"
"I would not contest that assessment, sir."
"Ah. Then we are in agreement. And perhaps you will also agree that you should share his punishment." He paused, continuing at Emily's stiff nod. "The two of you will meet in Professor McGonagall's classroom after this evening's meal; she will supervise you. I would also request that you acknowledge, to her, your appreciation of the sacrifice of her time."
Emily bowed, "Professor, I apologize that my actions have cost you time. I will endeavour to keep my temper in the future."
Lucius gave a bare nod of his head, face stony. "Madam, my regrets that I have cost you your evening hours. I will keep my private disputes with Professor Mayborne private."
Minerva's lips tightened still further, nodding at both Lucius and Emily.
"I trust that neither of you will engage in a repetition of this incident. After tonight, nothing further will be said about it. And now, if there is nothing else, good afternoon." Albus gathered Minerva by eye alone and took himself out of the pitch.
~
Emily set Severus on his feet and he shook his head furiously. What was that girl's fetish for his ears, damn it?
The two of you are just not to be believed! Damn it, girl, you are supposed to be an Acquisitor! Where is that training that promotes critical thinking? A cool head? You kept your temper through the entire day, and lost it over this? He was pushing your buttons to provoke this kind of response, you ninny! Do you know how bloody lucky you are not to be walking around under Imperius or any of the dozens of really nasty curses he knows? You might well have been killed, permanently injured or worse had this gone on for much longer! Don't you even open your mouth at me, Ravenclaw chick! You're a gape-mouthed hatchling compared to me and have less sense than one still in the egg! Once I am back in proper form, I will undertake your education myself. You will sit for your Masters credential if I have to whore every favor owed me to manage it!
If only that had been in English. It was some of his best improvisation to date, and effective as well, to judge from Emily's consternation.
With a curt flick of his tail, he turned to Lucius and felt his gaze narrow.
And you. I ought to box your ears until your head rings like the bells of Westminster! What is wrong with you? Other than an overdose of privilege that has swelled that gorgeous head of yours beyond reason. You deluded fool! What did you hope to accomplish? So there is someone in this world whom you cannot mislead, who is immune to your charm – and it's about bloody time you got an arse-kicking, but I want to be the one to deliver it! Idiot! You're as gape-mouthed in some ways as the Ravenclaw chick! Call it wizarding pride or pure-blood privilege and you swallow it whole and wiggling! You…
Evil impulse struck and there was only one way to express his trenchant disgust.
Turning his back, Severus lifted his tail and pissed all over Lucius' mirror-shined shoes.
~
Translations:
By the grace of old textbooks, Word 2000 grammar plug-ins, and translation programs. It has been mumble-teen years since I last spoke French for any reason at all.
In Snape's office:
Lucius to Emily: The hour is come, my pretty sparrow.
On the Quidditch Pitch
Narcissa to Lucius and Emily: This is how you both behave? Brawling like common thugs in an alley? Where is your reasoning? Where are your manners? I have never been so embarrassed in my life!
Lucius to Narcissa: My wife, this matter is between That Girl and me. She has insulted...
Narcissa to Lucius: The matter ceased to be private the minute you sent her that Howler, Lucius! My God! Where has your mind gone for you to open such a dispute in public, and over the breakfast table! Did you expect her to swallow such an insult? I would give her nothing but disdain had she not responded. You were a fool to think that you were going to fight with a sparrow, so do not complain if the falcon raked you as deserved!
And the reactions of Meridy Mayborne and her madman husband might take should you harm their heiress are horrors that I do not wish to contemplate!
Narcissa to Emily: And you, Emily, are you a child to fight like this? You should listen and see if the words have merit before you draw your wand, my daughter. I am not saying that you should fail to answer insult, to ignore such things simply invites more, but what you have done today has taken you to the level of those whom you scorn. Make use of your temper together with your brains, or your temper will make use of you.
Emily to Narcissa: But-!
Narcissa to Emily: Keep silent, you silly little girl! Lucius should never have insulted you as publicly as he did, but for you to repay his rude outburst in public - however accidentally - makes you as much a fool as he!
Narcissa to Emily and Lucius: Without the use of an Unforgivable I might not be able of forcing either of you to like the other, but I will have a truce from you both. And I mean to have it now. Clasp hands, both of you.
