Dora rose the next morning to the warmth of blankets around her, and the warmer yet sensation of being hugged within her night corset. She let out a sigh of pure contentment. Even after more than a month of wearing them, and having fully adjusted to sleeping in one, she didn't think her happiness at waking up wrapped in that warm hug would ever go away. Nor did she want to become so used to it that she would take it for granted. The knowledge that she would receive an even tighter and warmer hug in an hour or so would have been enough not to make her linger under the soft blankets, were it not for the delicious smells of her mother preparing breakfast.
Donning a dressing gown with a smile, she made her way downstairs. Her mum had decided on pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon this morning, and was using her want to flip the pancakes and toss them onto a plate with the ease of someone who had been using wandless magic effortlessly for longer than Dora had been alive. Not for the first time did Dora truly respect her mother's magical talent. As a child, of course, everything that her mother did had seemed incredible, but after the age of six of so, Dora had started to take it for granted. Then, Dora had started school, and even though she was quite good at her lessons, she knew that it would be years of practice and study before she came close to her mum's abilities. If then.
She took a moment to take the scene in of her mum humming a bit, still in her dressing gown, and her dad in his long wizarding night shirt (mostly covered by a grey dressing gown) as he read the morning paper. He'd often told her, "It's never entirely truthful, and that Rita Skeeter is a foul-faced liar, but there's no other way to get the news!" but today, the news couldn't be too bad, because he had a calm look on his face.
Really, though, things hadn't been bad in the wizarding world since the Death Eaters were taken to Azkaban after the fall of Voldemort. Not all of them, Dora knew, but anyone who'd managed to fool the Ministry was toeing the line. She'd been eight when his fall was announced in the wizarding radio at first, and then in the Daily Prophet, but mostly true rumors had spread long before the official reports.
Now, as Dora watched her father read and her mum prepare their morning meal, Dora knew how fortunate she was. Sure, most witches and wizards had parents or guardians who loved them, but at least one of them had to work, and Uncle Alphard had done away with that need. Also, even though Dora used to wish she had a brother or sister, she loved being the focus of her parents' attention. Of course, on the not so rare occasion that she got into trouble, the wish often came back. Not that her parents ever punished her cruelly...never even hit her...but taking away of privileges like being able to fly or going to bed without desert, or being forbidden from reading her favorite novels for a day or so could impart the lesson just as well. But, mostly, she got along well with her parents (especially her dad, who'd certainly caused trouble at school in his days), and they were loving and affectionate towards her in both their words and their actions.
This summer especially.
Dora crossed the threshold from the entrance into the kitchen, which was the smallest room in their house, but hardly small in any sense. Upon seeing her, Andromeda immediately paused her cooking and wrapped her into a hug, murmuring a "Good morning, honey!" and asking how she'd slept. Dora was happy to answer that she'd slept well, and then her dad, who had vacated his chair without her seeing, came around and wrapped her into another bear hug that almost rivaled her corset's.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he said, his voice louder than her mum's, but hardly booming by any measurement.
Dora hugged him back, tightly, and let head rest against his chest. She might reach her mum's shoulders, but her dad had several inches on her.
During this time, Andromeda had finished preparing breakfast, and sent some of the food neatly to the table, and the rest on their plates. Taking her seat next to her mum, Dora ate with the care of someone who was laced nearly twenty-three hours a day, but with the enjoyment of a growing teenager who loved her mum's cooking.
Breakfast was usually rather a quiet meal, one where talking consisted mostly of planning for the day ahead. Ted might throw in a few words about the goings on in the wizarding world, but the Ministry of Magic had little role in their lives.
"It occurred to me," Andromeda began, after swallowing a small bite of her eggs, "that we should begin to prepare for Becky's arrival."
Dora nodded, a bit uncertainly. She'd spent two weeks at her friend's house during the previous summer, from the middle to the end of July, but had never hosted a friend. Really, she would have been happy just to meet up with Becky somewhere, or even wait until the school term started, but that wasn't the way it went in wizarding families. If someone invited you over, you invited them back within a reasonable time frame. To do otherwise was, Dora knew, more than a little impolite. While Dora might be half-blood, and just a teenager, these were rules that she had to abide by. Sure, she wouldn't be shunned by some wizarding Society publication, but Becky would know, and would feel hurt. Moreover, both of their parents would feel the insult intended for the other family. Extenuating circumstances aside, it was Dora's job to invite her friend over for two weeks, and to be every bit of the host as Becky had been for her.
Then again, while the rules might feel like a bra at times, it did mean that Dora and Becky would have two weeks to spend together before the term began, and Becky was among Dora's closest of friends.
"What do we need to do?" Dora asked. "To prepare, I mean."
"That depends. Will you want to share a room with her?" Andromeda asked, practical as ever.
Dora shrugged. "We did when I stayed at her house. We each had our own bed, about the size of mine. Her room was quite large. So was the house. You know the kind?"
Her mum nodded. While some ancient wizarding families pursued this to a greater degree, there was a standard of building onto your house, which generally resulted in a house with more rooms than any single family could possibly need.
Dora's was hardly as massive as her friend's had been, but it could comfortably fit a second large bed, and with plenty of room to spare.
"Since we don't know what she'll want, we can prepare easily enough for both occasions," Andromeda assured her, with a smile. "We'll place a second bed in yours, and tidy up the guest room. That is," she added, with a sly grin, "I will do the cleaning charms, and begin to teach you, and you can help me add things to make it more welcoming and less like a spare bedroom."
Dora drew a blank, and then recalled the lovely bouquet that Becky had placed on her bedside table.
"Like flowers?" Dora asked.
"Yes, and perhaps some books she would like. Also, a plate of biscuits, some chocolates...that sort of thing," she explained.
"To make her feel welcome, and less like a guest," Dora realized, with a nod, and her mother smiled. "Did you used to have friends over when you were my age?"
"On occasion. I also visited them at their homes. Everyone had to be approved of by my parents, especially my mother, and I would have been forbidden to visit any male friends, even if they had sisters," Andromeda remembered. "Our virtue had to be guarded with almost the same intensity of our waists. Not that I had many male friends I would have liked to visit, except perhaps your father."
"And I was a gentleman," Ted put in.
"You certainly were," Andromeda agreed, with a fond smile.
"Did you let Dad put his hands around your waist?" Dora asked, remembering what her mother had cautioned.
"After a year of dating," Ted recalled. "It preceded our first kiss."
Dora sighed. That sounded incredibly romantic.
"It was a very nice kiss," Andromeda recalled, and grinned at her husband.
"I rather thought so as well," Ted answered, his face forming a smile, and then a grin.
They finished breakfast in a good mood overall, and after lacing herself down to 18 and 1/8 inches, Dora went to help her mum prepare for her friend's visit.
It was rather more enjoyable than she would have expected. Not that Dora thought preparing the room would be dull, exactly, but given the choice between reading a novel or flying around on her broomstick (not that she had done much of that this summer) and preparing a bedroom that her friend might not even use, she would have chosen either of the latter options.
Dora and Andromeda first went into her mother's garden to choose what she called "an appropriate arrangement of flowers." Between magic and dedication, all of the flowers looked lovely, and it seemed a shame to take any of them. Not that a few here and there would be missed, as the sheer number was more than enough to fill a greenhouse.
"Did you learn this when you were a kid?" Dora asked, carefully picking a few daisies that her mum pointed to.
"Yes, a year or so before I went to school. It was part of the wizarding family training, you know. Making your guests feel welcome in your home," Andromeda recalled.
Dora grinned. "I'm surprised your mother would let you and your sisters in the dirt."
"A necessary evil, I expect," she laughed. "Mind, once we were laced up, we spent as little time in the dirt as possible. Oh, our corsets weren't terribly restrictive, as you know, but it's much harder when you can't breathe very well to begin with."
Dora reached out and put a hand on her mum's, who smiled and squeezed back.
"Now, the blue roses would look lovely..."
In the end, they had a lovely bouquet, even if they both needed to bathe earlier than usual because of the combined heat and dirt.
That afternoon, Andromeda worked on cleaning the bedroom, although "cleaning" was rather a misnomer, since Dora's mum kept every room in the house spotless at all times of the year. She did, however, "freshen up" the sheets and blankets with the same "Scourgify" charm, and made them feel both crisp and soft to the touch with a Softening and Flower Smelling charm. When Dora smelled the scent of lilacs mixed with roses, she immediately asked her mum if she could perform that charm on her own sheets. Andromeda said that she would be happy to do so. Then, there was a Fluff and Puff charm to be used on the pillows, which Andromeda had learned a modified version of so that the pillows would adapt to the needs of the user-it would feel neither too firm, nor too soft, against their head. After a "Scourgify" on the closet (unneeded, in Dora's mind, since it smelled fine beforehand), it was time for Dora's work to begin.
That consisted of placing some of her favorite books on the shelves, helping her mum make biscuits, and adding a few dolls and the like as decorative objects. She knew that her friend still slept with her favorite bear from childhood, so even if she wasn't likely to play with the dolls, she'd appreciate them being there.
Of the tasks, baking (and sampling) the biscuits was easily the most enjoyable.
The night before Becky was scheduled to arrive, Dora slept more easily than she had expected. Perhaps it was the relaxing hug that lured her to sleep, or the foot rub her dad had given her earlier that evening as they watched a muggle TV show. (Due to the relaxing nature of the foot massage, Dora was half asleep before the show was finished. Thankfully, her mum had had the sense to help her into her night corset before joining them on the couch, and upon it ending, her mum half carried her into bed and tucked her in.) When she awoke, it was bright outside, and Dora nearly jumped out of bed when she realized that she'd slept a whole half hour later than usual.
"No need to rush, honey!" Andromeda laughed, upon seeing Dora looking rather disheveled and slightly out of breath from having raced down the stairs. "She won't be here until eleven, and we've already prepared for Becky's arrival. Sit down, relax, and enjoy breakfast."
Dora relaxed a bit. It was, after all, only just after nine. Breakfast and getting ready would likely take less than half hour each. And then, she simply had to grab a book or something to pass the time until they heard Becky or her parents' voices at the fireplace.
"You're right," she admitted, forcing herself to laugh. "I reckon I just panicked because I overslept."
"I wonder if you're sleeping laced too tightly," Andromeda said, giving her daughter an evaluative glance. "I know that you say you can manage at an inch and a half looser, but are you certain it's not affecting your sleep?"
Dora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm falling asleep as easily as before, not rising up in the middle of the night feeling as though I can't breathe, and wake up in the morning feeling safe and well-rested. I don't think that means I'm too tightly laced, Mum."
Andromeda rose from her seat to hug Dora. "No, I suppose not. Forgive your old mum for being, as your dad would say, a worrywart."
Dora inhaled her mum's lilac scent. "I'd rather you be worried that I'm too tightly laced than making me lace tighter than I'm ready."
Andromeda squeezed her a bit tighter. "I can assure you, honey, that that will never happen."
With that, they resumed breakfast at a leisurely pace. Afterwards, Dora laced herself again to 18 and 1/8 (would she ever reach 18? It felt as though she'd been nearly crossing this threshold for weeks...but she supposed that it would only become more difficult as she became even smaller), sat down with another book for Muggle Studies, and waited for her friend's arrival.
Author's note:
This chapter was rather fun to write because I was able to continue to world build on the wizarding world. I'm still not going to give out my other pen name (although I will say that at least one person who left feedback on this fic has commented on another), but maybe in the final chapter, I will divulge this information. MAYBE. At any rate, I've never been great at creating types of spells or world building, so discovering that I can be creative in this manner to SOME extent is kind of nice. I do think that the wizarding world is rather a mix of the high society, both New York and English, in the mid to late 1800's in formality, and then, of course, there's magic thrown in.
Feedback, as always, is most welcome.
Next up:
Becky arrives for two weeks, and we get to hear what she thinks. Is that vague enough for you? :)