Part 7

Hermione's imbolc had ended with a toecurling kiss after Yaxley had walked her home to her flat. They had agreed on having dinner the following week. The witch had fallen asleep with a smile on her face. During lunchtime on the next workday Luna Lovegood's Patronus had reached her. The blond witch asked her friend for a meeting for breakfast or lunch the following day. Hermione readily agreed and now they were sitting in Selene's Tearoom which opened at 7 already, waiting for their breakfast. The memory of that kiss still brought a smile to her face. And the little potted crocus that had arrived at her workplace the next day with a note telling her that it was one of the first blooms from the Yaxley Manor gardens. Still on cloud nine the witch noticed rather late that her friend Luna was quite dispirited. Hermione knew that the Ravenclaw's boyfriend had gone on a six-month excursion. Did she miss him really that terribly? She asked her friend.

"No, Hermione, that is part of the problem. I do not miss him. No, that's not right. Sometimes there are things I want to share with Rolf. I miss him then. But it is not that other kind of missing someone. Do you understand?"

"I am not sure. Are you telling me that the separation showed you that Rolf is not the one for you?"

"I guess. I am not sure, either."

That was highly uncharacteristic of Luna who always seemed to know what to do. She might be vague in expressing her opinions but Hermione had never seen her friend so unsure of herself. After the war the young witch had spent a lot of time and energy to help her father get the `Quibbler´ running again and even now it took up most of her days. Rolf Scamander, chasing some sort of magical creature or other at the drop of a hat, had seemed the ideal companion, even if Luna had not often accompagnied her boyfriend on these trips. The two witches discussed the troubles of one of them but reached no conclusion. They parted with reassurances to see each other again soon.

The next day during dinner at an Italian place in Muggle London Corban asked after Hermione's disctraction.

"Sorry, the blouse of the lady over there reminded me of a good friend who is rather dispirited right now. I will meet her again tomorrow for lunch."

"I would not have asked you to come with me but if you need some uncomplicated fun to take your friend's mind off darker things take her to Finn's game on Saturday. The Falcons are playing the Chudley Cannons. And there's a party afterwards, the team is celebrating its 337 year anniversary."

"337? 333 I could understand, or 350, but 337?"

"That's why the party is only in a pub. It is just an excuse to go out and have fun, I guess."

Thinking of Luna running the commentary for Hogwarts Quidditch games Hermione thought that her friend might have fun with such an outing.

"I will ask her tomorrow, but I think she will like it."

With his beige corduroy trousers and slate-grey turtleneck Corban blended right in with the Muggles around them. Hermione had been nervous but that feeling was forgotten as soon as they had sat down. Conversation flowed easily between them and the witch was surprised by herself, falling for the man so quickly. He had excellent if old-fashioned manners but was attentive and observant enough never to apply them in a way a young woman raised by a feminist would take offense. And Corban obviously knew his way around Muggles and Muggle London. Hermione asked why. His mien darkened for a split second.

"I guess we will have to talk about the darker days sometime. I told you that my family always held Scotland and common good sense above that blood-purity nonsense. Our money comes from cattle and sheep, a knowledge about animal husbandry might have played a role in a more diverse approach to marriage and family. But still I was raised as a snob and had not a lot of contact with Muggles in a modern setting. You see, it does not really matter if one is a wizard or not if you talk about sheep or wool or hunting grouse. Or good whiskey. I take a Lagavulin any day over the best fire-whiskey. After Hogwarts I started to train at the MLE, not as an Auror – being the only son my parents vetoed that idea – but as an apprentice for magical law. During that time I got the first hint of how far non-magicals had advanced in technology. I visited their libraries and museums, their science parks and I watched any documentary about their wars I could get my hands on. There were video tapes already available and I rented a room where I did not do any magic solely to make a TV and a recorder work there. What I learned frightened me a lot. During my Hogwarts years the divide between Dumbledore's followers and the old families had grown wider and wider. I had been invited to join the Knights of Walpurgis during my sixth year but had declined. No Yaxley has ever been a vassal of another wizard." He shook his head in bitter remembrance, as he had broken that particular family motto, and Hermione took hold of his right hand that had started to shred a piece of bread.

"Corban, there's no need to tell me everything, especially if it distresses you so. I got curious because you are far more knowledgable about the modern Muggle world than any other wizard I know. And you seem to enjoy a lot of its aspects." Hermione had noticed him appreciating a fine car or humming along a song wafting out from a pub.

His laugh was a tad strained but at least there, "I've seen the first perfomance of Spandau Ballet at the Blitz Club, would you believe it? And I took Antonin to see The Clash."

Hermione's parents had danced to Spandau Ballet at their wedding but she did not tell him that. Yaxley took her hand in both of his, having vanished the breadcrumbs wandlessly.

"Hermione, I was born on November 22nd in 1956, I am 25 years older than you. I felt I should mention that somewhere along the line."

"It is only 23 years, as I was born September 19th in 1979. I might even be older than that due to my third year – I was using a time-turner to take all available electives. The Unspeakables might be able to tell me for sure but they are not talking to me or Harry or Ron because we caused most of their prophecies and all of their time-turners to be destroyed. My father is 14 years older than my mother, that has never been a problem. Magical people age differently, don't they?"

"Yes, the age-difference won't matter when we're 120 and 143. And at least I am younger than your father."

"By far, as he is 68. Did you bring that up because you feel particularly frail?"

Hermione tried for levity and it seemed to work.

"I'll show you frail, witch!"

"Later, as I'd like to have dessert!"

"I'd show you dessert, too."

The witch did not consider herself a temptress but enjoying her tiramisu slowly, savouring every spoon, certainly had an effect on the elder wizard nursing his grappa. They walked hand in hand towards a small park nearby. In a shadowy corner Corban drew her into an embrace.

"Hermione, I may be a tad presumptious, but I ask you to date me exclusively. I would ask for an old-fashioned courtship, if I thought you might like that."

In his voice was non of that dry, sardonic way he usually talked left which told Hermione of his nervousness. She pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "Corban, I surprised myself with how fast I've fallen for you. Of course I want us to be exclusive. I have no idea how a proper wizarding courtship looks like and I am open to try anything you might want to. As long as it does not involve chaperones and vows of chastity."

She could rather feel his chuckle than hear it.

"I can do without the language of flowers and elderly aunts as chaperones. What do you think about a courtship with the goal of marriage?"

"Are there other kinds?"

"Well, yes, because past generations planned unions when their children were in the cradle. A long courtship gave the participants a chance to get to know each other and to find out whether they were compatible. It was no dishonour to end a courtship."

"I will do everything to make whatever we have between us grow and last. I am cautious by nature, that's why it took me by surprise, but with you I feel like I've arrived finally. I can be myself and I can spread my wings and it will be allright. There's no guessing whether I will be too little of a society person to meet Justin's needs or whether Ron and I can ever agree on the number of children we have."

His voice was suspiciously rough when he answered, "I am glad. It feels the same for me. But I hope you disagreed with Weasely because he wanted a Quidditch team and you not as many. Seven children is a bit daunting."

"Let's start with two or three. Yaxley Manor is in the Highlands, isn't it? We can always send them out into the moors to play if the manor gets crowded."

The kiss that followed that conversation melted her insides.

"Come home with me."

They Apparated to Hermione's flat and she added Yaxley to her wards. Standing in her living room the witch got nervous. She busied herself with looking through her drinks cabinet.

"I haven't got any Lagavulin but there's a bottle of Caol Ila. Would you like some?"

He embraced her from behind and whispered into her ear.

"I'd rather not drink anymore. Will you show me around your flat?"

The tour got cut short in Hermione's bedroom. The night that followed was a curious but nevertheless satisfying mixture of false starts, whispered pleas, unexpected shyness on her part and a surge of possessiveness on his that left both participants with a deep sense of being at the precipice of something durable and wonderful.