Chapter 9 – Weasleys in Love
Britomartis awoke with a start the next morning, sitting straight up in bed.
A dreamless sleep, despite everything that happened the past few days, and now the day seemed to be dark and threatening rain.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked down at the rug under her feet, the material dyed and woven into key patterns and spirals.
The door opened and she looked up, seeing her mother enter the room.
Saphira Vox was a tall, imposing woman, even in her advanced years. The light lavender gown fell over her strong body, bound to her waist and shoulders with a red sash wrapped around her. The wide-cuff bronze bracelets hung from her dark arms as her only form of jewelry. Her knee- length silver hair was swept up into a classical style, hanging down to her waist in a long ponytail.
Britomartis could hardly look into those deep blue eyes of her Mother's ... blue eyes that were always cold and distance and impatient, always ready to look away themselves. Steeling herself, the daughter looked up at the mother ...
And saw heartache.
"I've apologized for far too long," the Matriarch stated. "Apologizing could never fix the problem."
Britomartis looked away, pulling the plain cotton sleeping tunic closer to her body. "It's far too late, anyway."
The older woman approached the bed, sitting next to her. "What will you allow me to do, Britomartis?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
Saphira reached up and brushed slept-on ash blonde hair our of her daughter's face. "I was fiercely proud of you when you came back from school."
"Why couldn't you tell me?"
"Damage was done. I had no way of - "
"You were too proud to admit you were wrong."
Saphira nodded. "Exactly."
Britomartis sighed and bent her knee up, resting her foot on the edge of the bed and laying her elbow on the knee as she held her hand to her forehead. "I feel like a freaking teenager again, Saphira. I thought I had my life together, then I come back, all this crap comes up again, topped off with the repressed despair I felt about losing my family ... Great Mother, I don't know whether to hug you and cry myself to death or slam your head into a wall and stomp on your womb."
"I accept you back."
"You never accepted me to begin with, so how can you accept me back?"
"Then allow me to be a part of your life - I don't have to be your mother."
Britomartis put her leg down again and turned to her. "How can you be a part of my life? My entire life has been operated without anything remotely resembling you. You're a shadowy figure somewhere in the background who's been less important to me than Spiros the garbage collector from when I was seven." She looked back down at the floor. "I don't think I'm willing to accept you as easily."
Saphira nodded, her neutral expression matching her daughter's. "Considering the circumstances, I completely understand." She paused. "However, Britomartis, please note what I say as being completely true - I want you back in the family - "
"I'm part of my family - just not part of yours."
"I want you back as my daughter - "
"You never allowed me to be a daughter."
Saphira restrained herself from screaming - whether in pain or rage, she could not tell. "I'm violently proud of the kind of woman you turned out to be, I regret everything I did not do as your mother, and I will love you like you should have been loved from the very beginning."
Britomartis seemed to be pondering. After a moment, she said, "Do you realize that I can not recall you ever saying 'I love you' to me? Ever? You aren't saying it, even now."
"An old woman can learn new tricks, Britomartis, despite her mistakes. Please."
"Please leave."
Saphira stood, lacing her fingers together in a sign of conclusion.
Britomartis said nothing, still debating if she should throw the lamp full of olive oil at the back of her Mother's departing head or jump up and grapple her in a desperate hug.
Saphira Vox closed the door and Britomartis was alone again.
She fell back on her bed and grabbed a pillow, squeezing it tightly and willing tears that were not there to shed.
* * *
The rain was a downpour all day. Students studied in the library of the Vox home and waited for the rain to stop.
Fred was wearing a t-shirt with a television set on it - the knobs were operational, and he and George (whose own shirt said 'No, you didn't see that.') were trying to tune into an episode of the sci-fi Britcom 'Red Dwarf'.
The girls threw books at them to shut it off when Fred requested, "Glynnie- dear, could you twiddle with the color-knob? I can't seem to get the tint right - it's on my left nipple."
Oliver glared at them to shut up.
A knock came on the door and a headful of long blue-black hair popped in. "Hello, foreign exchange students!"
"Hi, Ophelia," Harry greeted her as she slipped in. "Have you asked the Priestesses about the double-axe yet?"
"Not yet, Harry. They've been preparing for the festival." She smiled then kissed his scar. Hermione looked up and scowled at the teenager who continued chatting, "Anyway, I brought this book over for all of you - it's a phrase book we saddle the mundane tourists with when they visit."
"What's a 'mundane'?" Ginny asked.
Fred took the book Ophelia offered and flipped through it.
"It's a Muggle," Hermione explained. "Magical non-wizard communities call Muggles 'mundane' people because they're ... mundane."
"What's a 'mundane'?" Ron asked this time.
Elizabeth interrupted, "It means 'ordinary', Weasley. Don't you guys at least have a dictionary?"
Glynis giggled, "George and Fred probably blew it up."
"That's a lie," George stated. "We used it to beat sales-fiends with!"
Fred looked up, blinked, then dropped to his knees before the Cretan girl and proclaimed, "Ophelia Vox, will you marry me???"
Everyone looked up and their mouths dropped open.
Ophelia giggled, hugging him against her waist. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley - whichever one you are - but I hardly know you!"
"Huh??" Ron asked. "But I thought - "
Hermione glared even more at the teenager. Draco sneered and muttered about the Weasleys trying to take over the Earth.
George picked up the book and read the title: "'Minoan Phrase Book for Tourists' - " He flipped it open and read the phrases down the page: "'To help English-speaking visitors with their day-to-day needs.' ... 'Wait while I remove these leeches.' ... 'I have been bitten by sand flies.' ... 'There are too many rats.' ... 'There are a lot of mosquitoes here.' ... 'The cockroaches have eaten my shirt.' ... 'Is this poisonous?' ... 'What made that noise?' ... 'Is there a taboo on your house?' ... 'Is the burning finished?' ... 'Is that fish dangerous?' ... 'This floor is not safe.' ... 'The roof is leaking.' ... 'There is no room in this boat.' ... 'We must keep dry.' ... 'She has a bad pain/snakebite/bull-inflicted wound.' ... 'Tear some clean cloth into strips.' ... 'Keep him warm.' ... 'Go quickly for help.' ... Your eyes will need treatment or you will become blind.' ... " He dropped the book, then pushed his twin out of the way and took the girl's hand into his. "Ophelia, I love you beyond all reason - I will marry you!"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, then leaned close to Ginny. "What's up with your brothers?"
"They're in love because they met a girl who has the same stupid jokes as them," Ginny answered as she rolled her eyes. "Daddy says it's part of the bloodline - it's how our Uncle Chaney and Aunt Pitty got together."
"You have a weird family, Weasley."
"But never boring," the younger girl admitted.
"I bet not. By the way, is Ron really - ?"
"Like a board," Ginny confirmed, one hand knocking on her head. "Quite oblivious."
"You poor thing."
Ophelia flicked her hair over her shoulder, obviously delighted by the attention of two brothers. "Now, you two need to behave yourselves!"
"But you're perfect!" Fred declared.
"Absolutely brilliant!" George added.
"Date with me!" both cried in unison.
"I'm ill," Glynis muttered.
"Me, too," Oliver agreed.
"Pathetic," Draco added.
Ophelia sighed. "All right. Tomorrow is the festival and I don't have any duties after the rituals. You can sit with me during the Bull-Leaping Games and the main feast. Is that all right?"
"YES!" both answered, getting to their feet. They turned to each other and glared.
"Good, see you tomorrow then!" She waved at the rest. "See you guys at the festivities. Pray the rain lets up!" She left the room.
"Fred, dear chap, you are mistaken - the hot babe was speaking to me."
"George, my brother, you are a git."
Ron and Ginny automatically brought their wands out, swished their wrists, and the twins ended up suspended upside down from the ceiling with their red hair brushing their notebooks for the next twenty minutes as they argued over whom Ophelia actually invited to sit with her and how pathologically deluded the other was for believing otherwise.
Britomartis awoke with a start the next morning, sitting straight up in bed.
A dreamless sleep, despite everything that happened the past few days, and now the day seemed to be dark and threatening rain.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked down at the rug under her feet, the material dyed and woven into key patterns and spirals.
The door opened and she looked up, seeing her mother enter the room.
Saphira Vox was a tall, imposing woman, even in her advanced years. The light lavender gown fell over her strong body, bound to her waist and shoulders with a red sash wrapped around her. The wide-cuff bronze bracelets hung from her dark arms as her only form of jewelry. Her knee- length silver hair was swept up into a classical style, hanging down to her waist in a long ponytail.
Britomartis could hardly look into those deep blue eyes of her Mother's ... blue eyes that were always cold and distance and impatient, always ready to look away themselves. Steeling herself, the daughter looked up at the mother ...
And saw heartache.
"I've apologized for far too long," the Matriarch stated. "Apologizing could never fix the problem."
Britomartis looked away, pulling the plain cotton sleeping tunic closer to her body. "It's far too late, anyway."
The older woman approached the bed, sitting next to her. "What will you allow me to do, Britomartis?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
Saphira reached up and brushed slept-on ash blonde hair our of her daughter's face. "I was fiercely proud of you when you came back from school."
"Why couldn't you tell me?"
"Damage was done. I had no way of - "
"You were too proud to admit you were wrong."
Saphira nodded. "Exactly."
Britomartis sighed and bent her knee up, resting her foot on the edge of the bed and laying her elbow on the knee as she held her hand to her forehead. "I feel like a freaking teenager again, Saphira. I thought I had my life together, then I come back, all this crap comes up again, topped off with the repressed despair I felt about losing my family ... Great Mother, I don't know whether to hug you and cry myself to death or slam your head into a wall and stomp on your womb."
"I accept you back."
"You never accepted me to begin with, so how can you accept me back?"
"Then allow me to be a part of your life - I don't have to be your mother."
Britomartis put her leg down again and turned to her. "How can you be a part of my life? My entire life has been operated without anything remotely resembling you. You're a shadowy figure somewhere in the background who's been less important to me than Spiros the garbage collector from when I was seven." She looked back down at the floor. "I don't think I'm willing to accept you as easily."
Saphira nodded, her neutral expression matching her daughter's. "Considering the circumstances, I completely understand." She paused. "However, Britomartis, please note what I say as being completely true - I want you back in the family - "
"I'm part of my family - just not part of yours."
"I want you back as my daughter - "
"You never allowed me to be a daughter."
Saphira restrained herself from screaming - whether in pain or rage, she could not tell. "I'm violently proud of the kind of woman you turned out to be, I regret everything I did not do as your mother, and I will love you like you should have been loved from the very beginning."
Britomartis seemed to be pondering. After a moment, she said, "Do you realize that I can not recall you ever saying 'I love you' to me? Ever? You aren't saying it, even now."
"An old woman can learn new tricks, Britomartis, despite her mistakes. Please."
"Please leave."
Saphira stood, lacing her fingers together in a sign of conclusion.
Britomartis said nothing, still debating if she should throw the lamp full of olive oil at the back of her Mother's departing head or jump up and grapple her in a desperate hug.
Saphira Vox closed the door and Britomartis was alone again.
She fell back on her bed and grabbed a pillow, squeezing it tightly and willing tears that were not there to shed.
* * *
The rain was a downpour all day. Students studied in the library of the Vox home and waited for the rain to stop.
Fred was wearing a t-shirt with a television set on it - the knobs were operational, and he and George (whose own shirt said 'No, you didn't see that.') were trying to tune into an episode of the sci-fi Britcom 'Red Dwarf'.
The girls threw books at them to shut it off when Fred requested, "Glynnie- dear, could you twiddle with the color-knob? I can't seem to get the tint right - it's on my left nipple."
Oliver glared at them to shut up.
A knock came on the door and a headful of long blue-black hair popped in. "Hello, foreign exchange students!"
"Hi, Ophelia," Harry greeted her as she slipped in. "Have you asked the Priestesses about the double-axe yet?"
"Not yet, Harry. They've been preparing for the festival." She smiled then kissed his scar. Hermione looked up and scowled at the teenager who continued chatting, "Anyway, I brought this book over for all of you - it's a phrase book we saddle the mundane tourists with when they visit."
"What's a 'mundane'?" Ginny asked.
Fred took the book Ophelia offered and flipped through it.
"It's a Muggle," Hermione explained. "Magical non-wizard communities call Muggles 'mundane' people because they're ... mundane."
"What's a 'mundane'?" Ron asked this time.
Elizabeth interrupted, "It means 'ordinary', Weasley. Don't you guys at least have a dictionary?"
Glynis giggled, "George and Fred probably blew it up."
"That's a lie," George stated. "We used it to beat sales-fiends with!"
Fred looked up, blinked, then dropped to his knees before the Cretan girl and proclaimed, "Ophelia Vox, will you marry me???"
Everyone looked up and their mouths dropped open.
Ophelia giggled, hugging him against her waist. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley - whichever one you are - but I hardly know you!"
"Huh??" Ron asked. "But I thought - "
Hermione glared even more at the teenager. Draco sneered and muttered about the Weasleys trying to take over the Earth.
George picked up the book and read the title: "'Minoan Phrase Book for Tourists' - " He flipped it open and read the phrases down the page: "'To help English-speaking visitors with their day-to-day needs.' ... 'Wait while I remove these leeches.' ... 'I have been bitten by sand flies.' ... 'There are too many rats.' ... 'There are a lot of mosquitoes here.' ... 'The cockroaches have eaten my shirt.' ... 'Is this poisonous?' ... 'What made that noise?' ... 'Is there a taboo on your house?' ... 'Is the burning finished?' ... 'Is that fish dangerous?' ... 'This floor is not safe.' ... 'The roof is leaking.' ... 'There is no room in this boat.' ... 'We must keep dry.' ... 'She has a bad pain/snakebite/bull-inflicted wound.' ... 'Tear some clean cloth into strips.' ... 'Keep him warm.' ... 'Go quickly for help.' ... Your eyes will need treatment or you will become blind.' ... " He dropped the book, then pushed his twin out of the way and took the girl's hand into his. "Ophelia, I love you beyond all reason - I will marry you!"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, then leaned close to Ginny. "What's up with your brothers?"
"They're in love because they met a girl who has the same stupid jokes as them," Ginny answered as she rolled her eyes. "Daddy says it's part of the bloodline - it's how our Uncle Chaney and Aunt Pitty got together."
"You have a weird family, Weasley."
"But never boring," the younger girl admitted.
"I bet not. By the way, is Ron really - ?"
"Like a board," Ginny confirmed, one hand knocking on her head. "Quite oblivious."
"You poor thing."
Ophelia flicked her hair over her shoulder, obviously delighted by the attention of two brothers. "Now, you two need to behave yourselves!"
"But you're perfect!" Fred declared.
"Absolutely brilliant!" George added.
"Date with me!" both cried in unison.
"I'm ill," Glynis muttered.
"Me, too," Oliver agreed.
"Pathetic," Draco added.
Ophelia sighed. "All right. Tomorrow is the festival and I don't have any duties after the rituals. You can sit with me during the Bull-Leaping Games and the main feast. Is that all right?"
"YES!" both answered, getting to their feet. They turned to each other and glared.
"Good, see you tomorrow then!" She waved at the rest. "See you guys at the festivities. Pray the rain lets up!" She left the room.
"Fred, dear chap, you are mistaken - the hot babe was speaking to me."
"George, my brother, you are a git."
Ron and Ginny automatically brought their wands out, swished their wrists, and the twins ended up suspended upside down from the ceiling with their red hair brushing their notebooks for the next twenty minutes as they argued over whom Ophelia actually invited to sit with her and how pathologically deluded the other was for believing otherwise.