Author's Notes: Sorry it has been so long since my last update. I just
haven't been in the mood to write. Too much work to do, computer problems,
sick with the summertime flu, etc. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses. I am going
to finish the story as-is and then re-write it. My wonderful net-friend
who is a published author was so generous as to read this story, despite
her usual rule against reading fan-fic. She gave me some good advice, and
I really think I can make this story better and less rambling with a re-
write. The basic plot will stay, but lots of extraneous stuff will be cut,
and it will possibly be updated to no longer come into such serious
conflict with the Harry Potter canon anymore. (It was started before book
5 was released.)
It's winding down towards the end of the story. So, hang in there. This chapter is pretty low-rated, but a bit of squicky sexual innuendo and advances towards the end. I don't hate Mira, I loooooove her. I just like to mess with her here and there. It's not really all that relevant to the story, but it was an interesting chapter to write. Dealing a little with wizarding social strata and social mores. Kind of exploring the wizarding world equivalent of the yuppie lifestyle. Another "orphan" chapter I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to include or not. It's long, and a bit rambly and not really relevant to the rest of the story, but here it is. Hope you enjoy.
Please write a review if you like what you see. Even if you don't. Just try and refrain from flat out snarkiness and pettiness. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome.
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books and movies, it's not my intellectual property, and no ownership is implied.
Chapter 25: The Closing of the Year.
Mira woke to the aroma of cooking wafting upstairs from the kitchen in her cousin's house. The housekeeper was preparing a hearty English breakfast for the family, as was their custom. Mira rose from the cozy bed, and got herself ready for the day. As she was fussing with her hair at the dressing table, Tricia knocked on the door to the guest suite, to ask if her Auntie Belle would be joining the family for breakfast.
Mira gathered her things and followed her cousin's daughter downstairs to breakfast. The informal table was set formally with starched linens and floral patterned china. Grandmother Eloise's heirloom silver tea service sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by silver platters of all manner of Wizarding delicacies. Mira greeted her cousin and Albert, set her cloak and overnight bag on the sofa, and sat down at the table. She helped herself to the sausages, and toast with pumpkin butter while her cousin poured the tea.
Susan was bubbling with excitement over the party. The last two response cards had arrived with the morning owls. Pru was already off to the market, shopping for the party. Fresh flowers would be delivered early in the afternoon, the harpist would arrive an hour before the guests to receive Susan's list of preferred tunes. Mira realized very quickly that this was not going to be an intimate dinner party for business associates, but a full-blown formal dinner party to impress and further the Treadles' social status.
After breakfast, Susan bustled Mira to the fireplace and told her to be back at the house promptly at seven o' clock, as cocktails would be poured at seven thirty, and dinner would be served a half hour later. Mira reached for a handful of floo powder, and Susan grabbed her arm.
"Mirabelle, do visit the salon today, and have your hair fixed. Do you have a robe to wear, or should I arrange something appropriate to be sent from the workshop for you?"
"Susan. Stop. I have a robe to wear, and I am capable of fixing my own hair."
"Oh Mira, you can just have the salon put it on my account. Anything you want. Hair, manicure, makeup, or the whole treatment if you wish. Albert won't notice when the bill arrives in the post."
"Susan, don't. It's not a money issue; I simply do not have time for that kind of preparation. I promise to arrive properly dressed and groomed at the appointed time. But you need to back off."
"Sorry, sorry, I was merely trying to help. I forgot how independent you are. But at least let me send a portcarriage to pick you up this evening. The seers are predicting nasty weather this evening, I'd hate for you to have to walk from the shop to a public floo outlet."
"Fine. I have no problem accepting that kind of offer. Have the carriage arrive just before seven, I'll be watching for it."
Mira brusquely tossed the floo powder into the fire and exited at the public floo fireplace located in the Hogsmeade train station. She cursed under her breath over the weather, and hurried across the village to the tailor shop, thinking that there had to be a way to keep specific floo connections open while blocking general access to the tailor shop's fireplace. Had it not been so early, she would have simply exited the network at the café across the street from the tailor shop. But, being the eve of a holiday, she didn't want to risk it being closed or jammed up with traffic and winding up at the next available public floo connection. She stepped off a curb and into a puddle of icy slush, and cursed the professor for making her promise to keep her floo network closed outside of the tailor shop's business hours, as a safety precaution.
She arrived back at the tailor shop, which was closed for the holiday, and would not open until January second. She unlocked the door, and greeted Swiftfeather, who angrily shook his feathers out at her, because his water cup had gone dry. Mira apologized, and refilled the little brass cup, using her wand to magically sweep up the feathers, which had fallen to the floor. On the counter, next to the till was a note from Maddie. The previous day had gone very well, all the custom orders for New Year parties had been collected, and several dress robes were sold off the racks. Mira put the parchment back on the counter; she would deal with the bookkeeping later. Gringott's wouldn't be open for a few days anyway, so the deposit could wait.
She carried her bag and cloak upstairs and lit the fire in her sitting room. After depositing the bag on her bed and hanging her cloak on the corner of the bathroom door, she started rummaging through her wardrobe for an appropriate robe to wear to the dinner party. She pulled out the shimmering dance robe from the Harvest Festival dance, but decided it was too flashy and risqué' to wear to a holiday dinner party. The red Christmas robe seemed a bit much as well, but it was all she had.
With a sigh, Mira closed the wardrobe door and shuffled back down the stairs to see if there was anything in her size left on the racks, which could be borrowed for the party. She found two robes, neither exactly what she would have otherwise chosen, but very easily alterable. One was hopelessly matronly, dark blue crepe with heavy black braid and a loosely cut silhouette. The other had potential; garnet colored velvet with a wide deep neckline. Mira snatched a sparkly gold scarf out of the basket by the window and headed back to the stairs. She spied a scroll on the floor next to Swiftfeather's perch, and recognized it as a Hogwarts scroll. She picked it up, and returned to her upstairs lodgings
She hung the robes on her wardrobe and opened the scroll. It was a note from the professor, written hastily judging from the messy handwriting, letting her know that he would apparate directly into her apartment at one o' clock in the morning, after his midnight patrol of the grounds was complete. The note advised her not to send a reply, because the scroll could find it's way to the headmaster. And strictly speaking, the professor wasn't supposed to leave the school grounds between patrols. Mira tossed the scroll on her dresser and turned her attentions to more pressing matters, making herself presentable for her cousin's party.
She tried on the robe she found down in the shop's stock. It was snug. But with her old fashioned corset, it would fit just fine. The sleeves were too short, and the neckline a bit too open for modesty's sake, but Mira had a plan. She cut the gold scarf into three pieces. She gathered and stitched the two shorter pieces onto the sleeves like bunched up ruffs to extend their length. And the long section was gathered and stitched in place around the neckline, filling it in some for modesty. Satisfied with her handiwork, she decided to take a long hot bath before it was time to get ready for the party.
Mira lay in the bath, reading a trashy muggle novel, and sipping chamomile tea. Her head was covered in large curlers, in an attempt to rein in her unruly locks. She was also making use of the vial of "Pretty as Porcelain" complexion potion that she lifted from the basket of toiletries in Susan's guest bathroom. After a good long soak, she dried off and sat in front of the fire, reading in her book, until it was time to get ready for the party.
She wrestled with the archaic underpinnings required for fitted classical style robes, and corset tightened, she sat at the dressing table to fix her hair and makeup. Hair tamed and coiffed, face fixed, and the diamond brooch framed by the neckline of the robe; she picked up her little bag and headed downstairs to wait for the carriage.
While biding her time, she applied some perfume from one of the testers, and fetched her good cloak from the back room. With a loud cracking noise, followed by the jingle of sleigh bells, the portcarriage appeared outside the front door of the shop. Ingenious inventions, portcarriages were the wizarding version of a limousine. While some highborn families had carriages drawn by actual enchanted horses or other magical beasts, portcarriages could be used like portkeys, to transport people and goods from one location to another almost instantaneously. Very few families owned them; not many more could afford to hire them. Albert most likely had use of this carriage as one of the perks of a lucrative business deal.
The driver, a smallish wizard in colorful livery, descended from a small seat outside the cabin of the carriage and waited for Mira to exit the shop and lock the door. He bowed to her with a flourish of his top hat, and with a flick of his wand, the door to the carriage opened and a set of ornate brass steps descended for her to climb in. The interior was like a little jewel box. Deep green velvet upholstery, and ornate brass fittings. With another tip of his hat, the driver clambered back to his seat and with a short incantation and wave of his wand, the portcarriage disappeared with a loud crack. After what seemed like seconds, but in reality was probably an imperceptible amount of time, the portcarriage reappeared behind a tall hedge, at the side entrance of the Treadle family home. This close to muggle London, the family needed to employ a little discretion in order to conceal magical comings and goings.
The driver opened the door and extended his hand to help Mira from the carriage, and tipped his hat one last time as the side door of her cousin's home opened. Prudencia, the housekeeper, was dressed in formal black serving robes with heavily starched white linen cuffs and collar. A starched white linen hat perched on her head. She wore a pristine white linen apron around her waist to complete the effect.
"Do come in Miss DelMare. Mistress is still upstairs and would like to see you before she comes down."
Mirabelle laughed inwardly as she handed her cloak to the old woman.
"Mistress indeed!"
She showed herself into the house, and waved at Albert, who was pouring a glass of brandy for a stately looking old wizard in an old fashioned muggle tuxedo with shiny leather boots on his feet. The harpist was positioned in the corner, just outside the dining room, playing softly. She continued on up the stairs and found her cousin at her dressing table, fretting over her hair.
"Mirabelle! Just the person I need. Which do you like better? The combs or the tiara?"
"Errr. you don't think a tiara is a bit much, Suzie?"
"Oh, Mira. It's a party! It's New Year's Eve! Of course it's not too much. Or is it?"
"Honestly? Yeah, it is."
Susan made a sniffing noise and placed the tiara back in its case. She started brushing and arranging her hair for the combs. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, admiring the elaborate damask robe laid out for her cousin. Thinking that even Narcissa Malfoy would turn green with envy over such a robe. If nothing else, Susan knew how to make an entrance.
"Is there anything else I can help you with? Where's Tricia? In her room?"
"Oh, yes, she's in her room. She'll be joining us for the meal, but that's all. If you want you can go see if she's starting to get ready, and then head downstairs and help Albert greet the guests."
Mira stood up and walked to the girl's room. Tricia was sitting on her bed, pouting over being excluded from all but the meal.
"Hey there kiddo, why the sad face?"
"Mum told me I couldn't come down early or stay after we ate. She said it was grown ups time, and I wasn't old enough yet."
"I'll tell you what. You be good at supper, and I'll sneak back up here and we can go on the balcony and see the fireworks at midnight. How about that? I might even sneak you up a glass of champagne if you promise not to tell."
The girl smiled and hugged her "aunt". Mira kissed Tricia on the forehead and waved at her as she shut the door and headed to the stairs. Downstairs, she found Albert and about half of the guests, mingling in the sitting parlor. A short and stout wizard with red cheeks and a bulbous nose leapt up from the sofa and hurried towards Mira.
"You must be Mirabelle. Susan has told me so much about you, I have been counting the days until the end of the month so that I could finally meet you."
He extended his hand to Mira, and warily she reached out to shake it. To her horror, he took her hand and kissed it instead. His lips were cool and rubbery and she had to fight to suppress a shudder. Albert, who had been caught in conversation with a stylish couple in classical style robes, rushed over.
"Oh, I see you two have already met. Very good. Mirabelle, this is my friend and associate, Danforth Fletcher. Danforth, this is my dearest wife's cousin, Mirabelle DelMare."
Mira forced a smile and looked back to Albert with a pleading look in her eyes. Albert cleared his throat and straightened his jacket lapels.
"Very well then. I know you two have lots to talk about, so I'll just leave you to it."
Mira shot the younger man dagger eyes as he hastily retreated towards the kitchen to check on the housekeeper. Fletcher took her by the arm and led her to a settee against the back wall of the sitting room. Mira primly sat on the edge of the small sofa with her knees together and her hands planted palm down on her lap.
"Would you like a drink, love? Albert has a bottle of very smooth red currant rum. Shall I fetch you a glass?"
"Oh no, drinks aren't to be served until everybody has arrived. And I think the last guests are just leaving their cloaks with Pru."
"Albert and I go way back, he won't mind if I nip into his study and help myself to a drink or two."
"Okay, but just a small one. I don't want to get too tipsy before the party even starts."
Danforth grunted as he hoisted himself up from the soft cushions. Mira did not like this Mr. Fletcher one bit. He was a lecherous old toad who definitely had an agenda for the evening. After the man hurried to fetch the drinks from Albert's study, there was silence; and then a chorus of whispers, punctuated by a gasp or two. Susan had appeared at the top of the stairs in her party finery. The sparkling tiara perched proudly on top of her head. Oh, but the woman knew how to make an entrance. Mira thought that her cousin must be the reincarnation of a grand Southern Belle. As the harpist resumed playing, she descended the stairs, gemstones and gold thread glittering in the gaslight of the wall sconces. The robe looked like something off of a medieval tapestry and upstaged every other woman at the party.
The queen of the castle amongst her subjects, the party officially began. Fletcher wound his way through the cluster of people who were gathering around Susan like so many moths to a flame. He sat back down next to Mira and handed her a dainty stemmed glass containing a deep reddish brown liquid. He took a large sip from his own glass and sat back, letting his left knee touch her leg. Mira stiffened and shifted on the small sofa, crossing her legs, so that she was no longer in physical contact with him. He drained his glass, placed it on a little table next to the settee, and yawned deeply. Slyly, as he reached to stretch, he brought his left arm down behind Mira's shoulder, and scooted ever so slightly closer to her.
"Enjoying the rum, love?"
"It certainly is smooth. Not too sweet and not overly dry at all. Tart too. I will have to ask Albert where he bought it. Oh look! I think Susan is beckoning to me. Why don't you go mingle while I see what she wants, and we'll continue our conversation in a little bit."
Before the wizard could protest, Mira was quickly making her way across the large room to the cluster of people gathered around the host and hostess. She pretended to mingle, and when she saw Fletcher start to approach the crowd, she slipped into the kitchen under the wary eye of the housekeeper.
"You need any help in here Pru?"
"Thank you no, Miss, I am more than capable of managing."
Mira smiled at the old woman. As soon as she turned back to the oven, Mira slipped through the servers' entrance into the formal dining room. The table was set lavishly with silver, crystal, and fine china. Elaborate arrangements of flowers were clustered around the table, on ornate brass stands, and on the sideboard at the back of the room. Bundles of flowers even hung from the chandelier by shimmering gold ribbons. Mira quickly made her way around the large table, looking for her and Fletcher's place cards, to make sure they would not be seated together. Just as she spied her name written on a tiny scroll of parchment, she heard Pru coming from the kitchen. Mira ducked out of the way behind an enormous vase of flowers on a tall stand, and sneaked out of the dining room while the old housekeeper had her back turned. Mira returned to the party, and was cornered by her cousin. Susan asked her to go fetch Tricia, as they were to begin seating for supper shortly.
Fletcher intercepted Mira on her way to the staircase. He asked her where she was going, and she explained that she was doing a favor for Susan. The older wizard said he would see her shortly and reached out and patted her on the backside as she stepped onto the stairs. Mira turned around, a shocked look on her face, and the old goat gave her a lecherous grin and headed back to the party. She stomped up the stairs and knocked on the girl's door.
Tricia opened the door, and Mira charged in and flung herself back on the girl's bed.
"Tricia, listen to me child. Do not ever, and I do mean ever, allow Danforth Fletcher to be alone with you. Do you understand me?"
"Sure, auntie Belle, but why?"
"Because he is a dirty old man, that's why, and he takes liberties with women."
"Oh. He always seemed creepy to me anyway. I'm glad for a reason to keep my distance from him. Even if he is one of Father's friends."
"Good girl. Come on, your mother sent me to get you, supper is about to be served."
Mira held out her hands, and let Tricia pull her up to a sitting position. She reached back and smoothed her hair, and smoothed her robe. She stood up and took Tricia's hand and led her down to the dining room. Fletcher waved at her and patted the seat of the chair next to him. Tricia went to her mother, who kissed her on the cheek and motioned towards the empty chair between her and Mira.
The guests made small talk between courses, and Mira tried to be cordial but curt with her tablemate. Fletcher was very interested, no make that obsessed with wizarding culture in the United States. He had once visited New Orleans on business, and had found the old city to be very intriguing. He wanted to know more about how the shops with muggle storefronts on one side and wizarding storefronts on the other managed to keep both sides separate. The man had a textile mill full of enchanted textile weaving machines. Machines, which wove enchanted textiles, he clarified. While the notion of self-cleaning shirts and self-pressing trousers was fascinating, Mira stayed aloof. He confessed that he was smitten with the city, and would love to purchase a flat in the wizarding district of New Orleans to use as a vacation home. He suggested that Mira would be just the person to show him around the city once he found a suitable property. Mira replied that she didn't get back home very often these days but could give him contact information on a tour guide who was a wizard. He turned to her with a suggestive leer in his eye.
"Oh, but I'm sure that wizard tour guide isn't anywhere near as interesting as you are."
Fletcher reached under the table and rested his hand on Mira's thigh. He gave it a squeeze and let his fingers wander over the velvet fabric of the robe. Mira choked and dropped her fork. At once, all eyes turned towards her. Tricia leaned forward and tugged on her sleeve.
"Auntie Belle? Are you okay?"
Mira smiled and shook her head.
"Fine, just fine. A bit of pepper tickled my throat, that's all."
The conversation started up again, and Prudencia poured Mira another goblet of water.
"Here, love, drink some water, that should help."
Mira drank the water, and repositioned herself in her seat, hand at her side to fend off wandering hands. She leaned forward to set the goblet down, and the woman seated on the other side of Fletcher caught her attention.
"Miss DelMare, I've been admiring that lovely pendant you're wearing all night. Might I be so bold as to ask where you bought it?"
Mira's hand went to the diamond brooch on the green ribbon.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't buy it, it was a gift. My gentleman friend gave it to me for Christmas, and it's been in his family for generations. It is lovely though, isn't it?"
"I say it is. How wonderful that he chose to share something so special with you. He must be quite a man, this gentleman friend of yours."
"Yes, he is. He's definitely one of a kind."
Fletcher raised his eyebrow at Mira and dug into the food on his plate. He cooled off for the most part for the last course of the meal and turned his attention to the man seated two seats down from his, who was very interested in the enchanted textiles. After the last guest finished his holiday pudding, Susan tapped the rim of her goblet with her knife.
"Before we retire to the parlor for aperitifs and music, I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for sharing this special evening with us."
There was a round of salutations at the table. Albert cleared his throat and spoke up as well.
"While we're toasting the evening, let's thank our wonderful cook, Prudencia, who has amazed us with yet another masterful feast."
Pru, who was standing in the doorway, blushed and bowed slightly at the toast and restrained applause before retreating to the kitchen, the glimmer of a tear in her eye. Susan then stood and bid her guests to join her back in the parlor. Mira told Susan that she would see Tricia back upstairs and to bed, but would be back down shortly. She lingered and took her sweet time helping Tricia hang her formal velvet trimmed robe up and brushed out the girl's hair for bed. Prudencia knocked and entered, asking if Mira needed any help, as it was already past Tricia's bedtime. Mira shook her head no, and leaned down to kiss Tricia goodnight. As she bent down, she whispered in the girl's ear.
"Now, don't fall asleep, I'll sneak back up as soon as I can, okay?"
She left the girl's room while Pru extinguished all but the night lamp and spread an extra blanket across the bed. After a brief stop in the guest suite bathroom to freshen up, Mira headed back to the party. As she descended the stairs, Fletcher met her at the landing.
"What's this about a gentleman friend who gives you fine gifts? Susan said you were a single woman. I know you're divorced, but seeing as he was a muggle, it can be overlooked."
"Susan may have told you I was single, but I'm seeing somebody."
"Oh, are you? Well, are you betrothed to him? Have you signed a contract promising yourself to him?"
"No."
"So, technically, you're not taken."
"As far as old-blood wizarding social mores go, then no. But I'm not interested in anybody else."
Fletcher was looking at her with a hard to read expression, when the woman who admired her brooch at supper approached with two other women in tow.
"I hope we're not intruding, but Florentina and Hesperida are both collectors of antique jewelry, and I told them that they simply had to see the piece you're wearing this evening."
The two middle age witches, who Mira recognized as socialite sisters from Witch Weekly, oohed and aahed over the brooch. Mira led them to a small table, used to play cards and other table games, and untied the ribbon so they could examine it more closely. She explained to them what the motto around the stone said, and that the names on the back were the names of women who had worn it. Fearing that one of the women might recognize the professor's mother's name and realize who gave her the brooch, she put it back on, and told the women the story of the dowry stone.
Thoroughly charmed by the romantic story intertwined with the fine piece of jewelry, the women lingered at the games table. Fletcher had long since retreated to have a chat with Albert, uninterested in women's talk. After a discussion on fashion and beauty regimes, the women thanked Mira for letting them admire her brooch and went back to refresh their drinks. Mira sat back in the chair, and let out a sigh. She looked over to see Fletcher approaching her table with two drinks in hand.
"Damn" she snarled under her breath, fearing that she would have to possibly get ugly to set him straight. He sat at the chair closest to her, and handed her a drink. Another glass of currant rum, but this time a much larger glass. He looked closely at the brooch she wore, squinting his watery little eyes as he leaned in.
"Well, if that's the kind of thing you're into love, I can be much more generous than the chap who gave you that little thing."
Mira looked at him with an incredulous look on her face.
"I told you that I'm not looking for anybody else. I'm flattered that you're interested, but I'm seeing somebody and I am very happy with him."
"He never even need know about me, love. I have a posh little flat here in London that I use when I'm in town. We can spend time together there, and nobody will suspect a thing. And like I said, I can be much more generous."
Mira took a large sip of her drink and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, and I really don't want to be any more unpleasant than I have to be, but I'm simply not interested Mr. Fletcher."
The wizard shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. Mira took another small sip of her rum. It tasted different. She brought it back up and sniffed at it, it smelled different. She swirled the glass around and it had a slightly cloudy look to it, not easily discernable in the larger thicker goblet. Icy tendrils of uneasiness worked their way through her stomach as she realized that the old bastard had put something in her drink.
She looked up at him and he had a strange look on his face. Like a greedy child peering in the window of a candy shop.
"Aren't you going to finish your drink, love? That's much to fine of a vintage to let go to waste."
Mira pretended to take a tiny sip, and smiled at the man. His attention was drawn to a cluster of people who broke out in raucous laughter. Mira seized her chance and dumped most of the drink into a potted fern on a stand next to the gaming table. She raised the glass to her lips as if taking a drink. When Fletcher turned back to her, she set the goblet on the table and reached up to feel her forehead.
"Ooh, I don't think I feel so good. That drink must have been stronger than I expected."
"Oh no love, it's not strong at all. I bet it's the heat from the fireplace that's making you lightheaded. Here, finish your drink, it'll make you feel a little better."
She started fanning her face with her hand and got up from the little table. Fletcher took her by the arm and waist and steered her over to the settee in the corner again.
"Here love, sit down where it's soft."
He sat down next to her, and slipped his arm around her waist. Mira pretended to be woozy and leaned away from him.
"Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home? I have a carriage on call, just say the word and I'll summon it and get you home and make sure you're going to be okay."
"Maybe you should go get my cousin, Mr. Fletcher. I think I've had too much drink and rich food. I really feel dizzy."
"Oh no, love. Let's not go bother your cousin on her big night. I can take care of you."
Mira snorted and thought to herself: "I bet you think you can take care of me, you dirty old bastard."
She rose and pretended to walk on wobbly legs towards the staircase. Fletcher jumped up and reached around her waist to steady her, his fingers straying a little farther up her chest than need be.
"That's it, let me help you upstairs and find you a nice cool place to lie down. We'll get you out of that hot dress so that you can breathe more easily."
Quickly, Mira changed tactics and doubled over, clutching her stomach.
"Oh no. I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to be sick."
She made a nasty gagging noise and the wizard released his grip on her and stepped back. She lunged up the stairs and into Tricia's room, where she quickly shut and locked the door behind her. Tricia bolted upright in bed and looked towards the door.
"Auntie Belle?"
"Yeah, sorry for startling you kiddo. Can I hide out here with you? Mr. Fletcher was very nasty with me down there, and I had to get away from him before things got out of control."
"Oh, Auntie Belle, go tell Father! Tell him that creepy old man was rude to you."
"It's not like that Tricia, for what it's worth, Fletcher is a very important business contact for your father, and I can't risk causing a problem for him. If I try and have Albert get involved, it'll make Mr. Fletcher cross with him. I got away from him, he won't bother me anymore tonight. He thinks I got sick."
"You should tell Professor Snape to put a hex on him. I bet he knows lots of them. He always threatened us with them when we got too loud in class."
Mira smirked and climbed onto the bed with Tricia.
"Yep, he knows some pretty nasty magic alright. But I don't want to worry him with this, he has enough on his mind with the new term starting and all."
"He's not really as mean as he pretends to be, is he?"
"No. Not really. Not to me at least. But you didn't hear that from me kiddo. You go blabbing that the Hogwarts Potions Master has a soft spot for his sweetheart, and his hexes will be the least of your worries. Got that missy?"
Tricia giggled and tossed a pillow at Mira. She tucked it behind her back and leaned back against the headboard. Tricia looked up, with a sheepish grin on her face. They joked and shared girl-talk until close to midnight.
"Hey, I couldn't bring you any champagne, but do you want to see the fireworks anyway?"
"Sure Auntie Belle."
Tricia climbed out of bed and pulled on a heavy dressing gown. Mira got up and wrapped the top blanket from the bed around her body like a cloak. Tricia finished pulling on a pair of fuzzy slippers and unlocked the French doors, which led to her little balcony overlooking the back of the house. The sky was starting to cloud over, but it was not raining or snowing yet. Mira wrapped Tricia up with her in the blanket and heard the guests counting down to midnight down in the sitting parlor. The sky over London erupted in spontaneous flashes of colored light. Both muggle and wizarding fireworks were being shot into the sky. The heavy cloud cover muted the spectacle, which was exciting nonetheless. The final flashes of color over, Mira helped Tricia shut and lock the balcony doors and put the blanket back on the bed.
Before tucking Tricia back in, Mira told her to be good at Beauxbatons, and maybe she would come to France for a visit towards the end of spring. Madame Maxime was an acquaintance of grandmother Eloise, and Mira was sure she could pull some strings and let Tricia spend the day with her auntie and grandmother during one of her free days in Paris.
Quietly, Mira kissed the girl goodnight and goodbye and crept out the door and into the neighboring guest room. She took a magazine and sat on the bed and started to read. In less than a half an hour, Pru knocked on the door asking if Mira was inside.
"There you are, Miss. Your sister couldn't find you, and as that dear old Mr. Fletcher was leaving, he said that you had felt ill and went upstairs. She sent me to check on you and let you know that the party was winding up, and the guests have started to leave. But you could stay on overnight if you needed."
"Oh no, I'm better now. I just had too much drink and rich food for one evening and felt a little queasy, that's all. I best be going. I know Susan and Albert are going to need their rest."
She followed the housekeeper down the stairs and explained to her cousin what had happened. The feeling sick story, of course. She feared that even if she told Susan what really happened, Susan would find a reason to be cross with her. Susan had Albert send for the portcarriage, and Prudencia fetched Mira's cloak for her. She bid her farewells, and arrived back home at the tailor shop at twelve forty in the morning. Very little time to prepare for her rendezvous with the professor.
It's winding down towards the end of the story. So, hang in there. This chapter is pretty low-rated, but a bit of squicky sexual innuendo and advances towards the end. I don't hate Mira, I loooooove her. I just like to mess with her here and there. It's not really all that relevant to the story, but it was an interesting chapter to write. Dealing a little with wizarding social strata and social mores. Kind of exploring the wizarding world equivalent of the yuppie lifestyle. Another "orphan" chapter I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to include or not. It's long, and a bit rambly and not really relevant to the rest of the story, but here it is. Hope you enjoy.
Please write a review if you like what you see. Even if you don't. Just try and refrain from flat out snarkiness and pettiness. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome.
Disclaimers: If you recognize it from the books and movies, it's not my intellectual property, and no ownership is implied.
Chapter 25: The Closing of the Year.
Mira woke to the aroma of cooking wafting upstairs from the kitchen in her cousin's house. The housekeeper was preparing a hearty English breakfast for the family, as was their custom. Mira rose from the cozy bed, and got herself ready for the day. As she was fussing with her hair at the dressing table, Tricia knocked on the door to the guest suite, to ask if her Auntie Belle would be joining the family for breakfast.
Mira gathered her things and followed her cousin's daughter downstairs to breakfast. The informal table was set formally with starched linens and floral patterned china. Grandmother Eloise's heirloom silver tea service sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by silver platters of all manner of Wizarding delicacies. Mira greeted her cousin and Albert, set her cloak and overnight bag on the sofa, and sat down at the table. She helped herself to the sausages, and toast with pumpkin butter while her cousin poured the tea.
Susan was bubbling with excitement over the party. The last two response cards had arrived with the morning owls. Pru was already off to the market, shopping for the party. Fresh flowers would be delivered early in the afternoon, the harpist would arrive an hour before the guests to receive Susan's list of preferred tunes. Mira realized very quickly that this was not going to be an intimate dinner party for business associates, but a full-blown formal dinner party to impress and further the Treadles' social status.
After breakfast, Susan bustled Mira to the fireplace and told her to be back at the house promptly at seven o' clock, as cocktails would be poured at seven thirty, and dinner would be served a half hour later. Mira reached for a handful of floo powder, and Susan grabbed her arm.
"Mirabelle, do visit the salon today, and have your hair fixed. Do you have a robe to wear, or should I arrange something appropriate to be sent from the workshop for you?"
"Susan. Stop. I have a robe to wear, and I am capable of fixing my own hair."
"Oh Mira, you can just have the salon put it on my account. Anything you want. Hair, manicure, makeup, or the whole treatment if you wish. Albert won't notice when the bill arrives in the post."
"Susan, don't. It's not a money issue; I simply do not have time for that kind of preparation. I promise to arrive properly dressed and groomed at the appointed time. But you need to back off."
"Sorry, sorry, I was merely trying to help. I forgot how independent you are. But at least let me send a portcarriage to pick you up this evening. The seers are predicting nasty weather this evening, I'd hate for you to have to walk from the shop to a public floo outlet."
"Fine. I have no problem accepting that kind of offer. Have the carriage arrive just before seven, I'll be watching for it."
Mira brusquely tossed the floo powder into the fire and exited at the public floo fireplace located in the Hogsmeade train station. She cursed under her breath over the weather, and hurried across the village to the tailor shop, thinking that there had to be a way to keep specific floo connections open while blocking general access to the tailor shop's fireplace. Had it not been so early, she would have simply exited the network at the café across the street from the tailor shop. But, being the eve of a holiday, she didn't want to risk it being closed or jammed up with traffic and winding up at the next available public floo connection. She stepped off a curb and into a puddle of icy slush, and cursed the professor for making her promise to keep her floo network closed outside of the tailor shop's business hours, as a safety precaution.
She arrived back at the tailor shop, which was closed for the holiday, and would not open until January second. She unlocked the door, and greeted Swiftfeather, who angrily shook his feathers out at her, because his water cup had gone dry. Mira apologized, and refilled the little brass cup, using her wand to magically sweep up the feathers, which had fallen to the floor. On the counter, next to the till was a note from Maddie. The previous day had gone very well, all the custom orders for New Year parties had been collected, and several dress robes were sold off the racks. Mira put the parchment back on the counter; she would deal with the bookkeeping later. Gringott's wouldn't be open for a few days anyway, so the deposit could wait.
She carried her bag and cloak upstairs and lit the fire in her sitting room. After depositing the bag on her bed and hanging her cloak on the corner of the bathroom door, she started rummaging through her wardrobe for an appropriate robe to wear to the dinner party. She pulled out the shimmering dance robe from the Harvest Festival dance, but decided it was too flashy and risqué' to wear to a holiday dinner party. The red Christmas robe seemed a bit much as well, but it was all she had.
With a sigh, Mira closed the wardrobe door and shuffled back down the stairs to see if there was anything in her size left on the racks, which could be borrowed for the party. She found two robes, neither exactly what she would have otherwise chosen, but very easily alterable. One was hopelessly matronly, dark blue crepe with heavy black braid and a loosely cut silhouette. The other had potential; garnet colored velvet with a wide deep neckline. Mira snatched a sparkly gold scarf out of the basket by the window and headed back to the stairs. She spied a scroll on the floor next to Swiftfeather's perch, and recognized it as a Hogwarts scroll. She picked it up, and returned to her upstairs lodgings
She hung the robes on her wardrobe and opened the scroll. It was a note from the professor, written hastily judging from the messy handwriting, letting her know that he would apparate directly into her apartment at one o' clock in the morning, after his midnight patrol of the grounds was complete. The note advised her not to send a reply, because the scroll could find it's way to the headmaster. And strictly speaking, the professor wasn't supposed to leave the school grounds between patrols. Mira tossed the scroll on her dresser and turned her attentions to more pressing matters, making herself presentable for her cousin's party.
She tried on the robe she found down in the shop's stock. It was snug. But with her old fashioned corset, it would fit just fine. The sleeves were too short, and the neckline a bit too open for modesty's sake, but Mira had a plan. She cut the gold scarf into three pieces. She gathered and stitched the two shorter pieces onto the sleeves like bunched up ruffs to extend their length. And the long section was gathered and stitched in place around the neckline, filling it in some for modesty. Satisfied with her handiwork, she decided to take a long hot bath before it was time to get ready for the party.
Mira lay in the bath, reading a trashy muggle novel, and sipping chamomile tea. Her head was covered in large curlers, in an attempt to rein in her unruly locks. She was also making use of the vial of "Pretty as Porcelain" complexion potion that she lifted from the basket of toiletries in Susan's guest bathroom. After a good long soak, she dried off and sat in front of the fire, reading in her book, until it was time to get ready for the party.
She wrestled with the archaic underpinnings required for fitted classical style robes, and corset tightened, she sat at the dressing table to fix her hair and makeup. Hair tamed and coiffed, face fixed, and the diamond brooch framed by the neckline of the robe; she picked up her little bag and headed downstairs to wait for the carriage.
While biding her time, she applied some perfume from one of the testers, and fetched her good cloak from the back room. With a loud cracking noise, followed by the jingle of sleigh bells, the portcarriage appeared outside the front door of the shop. Ingenious inventions, portcarriages were the wizarding version of a limousine. While some highborn families had carriages drawn by actual enchanted horses or other magical beasts, portcarriages could be used like portkeys, to transport people and goods from one location to another almost instantaneously. Very few families owned them; not many more could afford to hire them. Albert most likely had use of this carriage as one of the perks of a lucrative business deal.
The driver, a smallish wizard in colorful livery, descended from a small seat outside the cabin of the carriage and waited for Mira to exit the shop and lock the door. He bowed to her with a flourish of his top hat, and with a flick of his wand, the door to the carriage opened and a set of ornate brass steps descended for her to climb in. The interior was like a little jewel box. Deep green velvet upholstery, and ornate brass fittings. With another tip of his hat, the driver clambered back to his seat and with a short incantation and wave of his wand, the portcarriage disappeared with a loud crack. After what seemed like seconds, but in reality was probably an imperceptible amount of time, the portcarriage reappeared behind a tall hedge, at the side entrance of the Treadle family home. This close to muggle London, the family needed to employ a little discretion in order to conceal magical comings and goings.
The driver opened the door and extended his hand to help Mira from the carriage, and tipped his hat one last time as the side door of her cousin's home opened. Prudencia, the housekeeper, was dressed in formal black serving robes with heavily starched white linen cuffs and collar. A starched white linen hat perched on her head. She wore a pristine white linen apron around her waist to complete the effect.
"Do come in Miss DelMare. Mistress is still upstairs and would like to see you before she comes down."
Mirabelle laughed inwardly as she handed her cloak to the old woman.
"Mistress indeed!"
She showed herself into the house, and waved at Albert, who was pouring a glass of brandy for a stately looking old wizard in an old fashioned muggle tuxedo with shiny leather boots on his feet. The harpist was positioned in the corner, just outside the dining room, playing softly. She continued on up the stairs and found her cousin at her dressing table, fretting over her hair.
"Mirabelle! Just the person I need. Which do you like better? The combs or the tiara?"
"Errr. you don't think a tiara is a bit much, Suzie?"
"Oh, Mira. It's a party! It's New Year's Eve! Of course it's not too much. Or is it?"
"Honestly? Yeah, it is."
Susan made a sniffing noise and placed the tiara back in its case. She started brushing and arranging her hair for the combs. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, admiring the elaborate damask robe laid out for her cousin. Thinking that even Narcissa Malfoy would turn green with envy over such a robe. If nothing else, Susan knew how to make an entrance.
"Is there anything else I can help you with? Where's Tricia? In her room?"
"Oh, yes, she's in her room. She'll be joining us for the meal, but that's all. If you want you can go see if she's starting to get ready, and then head downstairs and help Albert greet the guests."
Mira stood up and walked to the girl's room. Tricia was sitting on her bed, pouting over being excluded from all but the meal.
"Hey there kiddo, why the sad face?"
"Mum told me I couldn't come down early or stay after we ate. She said it was grown ups time, and I wasn't old enough yet."
"I'll tell you what. You be good at supper, and I'll sneak back up here and we can go on the balcony and see the fireworks at midnight. How about that? I might even sneak you up a glass of champagne if you promise not to tell."
The girl smiled and hugged her "aunt". Mira kissed Tricia on the forehead and waved at her as she shut the door and headed to the stairs. Downstairs, she found Albert and about half of the guests, mingling in the sitting parlor. A short and stout wizard with red cheeks and a bulbous nose leapt up from the sofa and hurried towards Mira.
"You must be Mirabelle. Susan has told me so much about you, I have been counting the days until the end of the month so that I could finally meet you."
He extended his hand to Mira, and warily she reached out to shake it. To her horror, he took her hand and kissed it instead. His lips were cool and rubbery and she had to fight to suppress a shudder. Albert, who had been caught in conversation with a stylish couple in classical style robes, rushed over.
"Oh, I see you two have already met. Very good. Mirabelle, this is my friend and associate, Danforth Fletcher. Danforth, this is my dearest wife's cousin, Mirabelle DelMare."
Mira forced a smile and looked back to Albert with a pleading look in her eyes. Albert cleared his throat and straightened his jacket lapels.
"Very well then. I know you two have lots to talk about, so I'll just leave you to it."
Mira shot the younger man dagger eyes as he hastily retreated towards the kitchen to check on the housekeeper. Fletcher took her by the arm and led her to a settee against the back wall of the sitting room. Mira primly sat on the edge of the small sofa with her knees together and her hands planted palm down on her lap.
"Would you like a drink, love? Albert has a bottle of very smooth red currant rum. Shall I fetch you a glass?"
"Oh no, drinks aren't to be served until everybody has arrived. And I think the last guests are just leaving their cloaks with Pru."
"Albert and I go way back, he won't mind if I nip into his study and help myself to a drink or two."
"Okay, but just a small one. I don't want to get too tipsy before the party even starts."
Danforth grunted as he hoisted himself up from the soft cushions. Mira did not like this Mr. Fletcher one bit. He was a lecherous old toad who definitely had an agenda for the evening. After the man hurried to fetch the drinks from Albert's study, there was silence; and then a chorus of whispers, punctuated by a gasp or two. Susan had appeared at the top of the stairs in her party finery. The sparkling tiara perched proudly on top of her head. Oh, but the woman knew how to make an entrance. Mira thought that her cousin must be the reincarnation of a grand Southern Belle. As the harpist resumed playing, she descended the stairs, gemstones and gold thread glittering in the gaslight of the wall sconces. The robe looked like something off of a medieval tapestry and upstaged every other woman at the party.
The queen of the castle amongst her subjects, the party officially began. Fletcher wound his way through the cluster of people who were gathering around Susan like so many moths to a flame. He sat back down next to Mira and handed her a dainty stemmed glass containing a deep reddish brown liquid. He took a large sip from his own glass and sat back, letting his left knee touch her leg. Mira stiffened and shifted on the small sofa, crossing her legs, so that she was no longer in physical contact with him. He drained his glass, placed it on a little table next to the settee, and yawned deeply. Slyly, as he reached to stretch, he brought his left arm down behind Mira's shoulder, and scooted ever so slightly closer to her.
"Enjoying the rum, love?"
"It certainly is smooth. Not too sweet and not overly dry at all. Tart too. I will have to ask Albert where he bought it. Oh look! I think Susan is beckoning to me. Why don't you go mingle while I see what she wants, and we'll continue our conversation in a little bit."
Before the wizard could protest, Mira was quickly making her way across the large room to the cluster of people gathered around the host and hostess. She pretended to mingle, and when she saw Fletcher start to approach the crowd, she slipped into the kitchen under the wary eye of the housekeeper.
"You need any help in here Pru?"
"Thank you no, Miss, I am more than capable of managing."
Mira smiled at the old woman. As soon as she turned back to the oven, Mira slipped through the servers' entrance into the formal dining room. The table was set lavishly with silver, crystal, and fine china. Elaborate arrangements of flowers were clustered around the table, on ornate brass stands, and on the sideboard at the back of the room. Bundles of flowers even hung from the chandelier by shimmering gold ribbons. Mira quickly made her way around the large table, looking for her and Fletcher's place cards, to make sure they would not be seated together. Just as she spied her name written on a tiny scroll of parchment, she heard Pru coming from the kitchen. Mira ducked out of the way behind an enormous vase of flowers on a tall stand, and sneaked out of the dining room while the old housekeeper had her back turned. Mira returned to the party, and was cornered by her cousin. Susan asked her to go fetch Tricia, as they were to begin seating for supper shortly.
Fletcher intercepted Mira on her way to the staircase. He asked her where she was going, and she explained that she was doing a favor for Susan. The older wizard said he would see her shortly and reached out and patted her on the backside as she stepped onto the stairs. Mira turned around, a shocked look on her face, and the old goat gave her a lecherous grin and headed back to the party. She stomped up the stairs and knocked on the girl's door.
Tricia opened the door, and Mira charged in and flung herself back on the girl's bed.
"Tricia, listen to me child. Do not ever, and I do mean ever, allow Danforth Fletcher to be alone with you. Do you understand me?"
"Sure, auntie Belle, but why?"
"Because he is a dirty old man, that's why, and he takes liberties with women."
"Oh. He always seemed creepy to me anyway. I'm glad for a reason to keep my distance from him. Even if he is one of Father's friends."
"Good girl. Come on, your mother sent me to get you, supper is about to be served."
Mira held out her hands, and let Tricia pull her up to a sitting position. She reached back and smoothed her hair, and smoothed her robe. She stood up and took Tricia's hand and led her down to the dining room. Fletcher waved at her and patted the seat of the chair next to him. Tricia went to her mother, who kissed her on the cheek and motioned towards the empty chair between her and Mira.
The guests made small talk between courses, and Mira tried to be cordial but curt with her tablemate. Fletcher was very interested, no make that obsessed with wizarding culture in the United States. He had once visited New Orleans on business, and had found the old city to be very intriguing. He wanted to know more about how the shops with muggle storefronts on one side and wizarding storefronts on the other managed to keep both sides separate. The man had a textile mill full of enchanted textile weaving machines. Machines, which wove enchanted textiles, he clarified. While the notion of self-cleaning shirts and self-pressing trousers was fascinating, Mira stayed aloof. He confessed that he was smitten with the city, and would love to purchase a flat in the wizarding district of New Orleans to use as a vacation home. He suggested that Mira would be just the person to show him around the city once he found a suitable property. Mira replied that she didn't get back home very often these days but could give him contact information on a tour guide who was a wizard. He turned to her with a suggestive leer in his eye.
"Oh, but I'm sure that wizard tour guide isn't anywhere near as interesting as you are."
Fletcher reached under the table and rested his hand on Mira's thigh. He gave it a squeeze and let his fingers wander over the velvet fabric of the robe. Mira choked and dropped her fork. At once, all eyes turned towards her. Tricia leaned forward and tugged on her sleeve.
"Auntie Belle? Are you okay?"
Mira smiled and shook her head.
"Fine, just fine. A bit of pepper tickled my throat, that's all."
The conversation started up again, and Prudencia poured Mira another goblet of water.
"Here, love, drink some water, that should help."
Mira drank the water, and repositioned herself in her seat, hand at her side to fend off wandering hands. She leaned forward to set the goblet down, and the woman seated on the other side of Fletcher caught her attention.
"Miss DelMare, I've been admiring that lovely pendant you're wearing all night. Might I be so bold as to ask where you bought it?"
Mira's hand went to the diamond brooch on the green ribbon.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't buy it, it was a gift. My gentleman friend gave it to me for Christmas, and it's been in his family for generations. It is lovely though, isn't it?"
"I say it is. How wonderful that he chose to share something so special with you. He must be quite a man, this gentleman friend of yours."
"Yes, he is. He's definitely one of a kind."
Fletcher raised his eyebrow at Mira and dug into the food on his plate. He cooled off for the most part for the last course of the meal and turned his attention to the man seated two seats down from his, who was very interested in the enchanted textiles. After the last guest finished his holiday pudding, Susan tapped the rim of her goblet with her knife.
"Before we retire to the parlor for aperitifs and music, I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for sharing this special evening with us."
There was a round of salutations at the table. Albert cleared his throat and spoke up as well.
"While we're toasting the evening, let's thank our wonderful cook, Prudencia, who has amazed us with yet another masterful feast."
Pru, who was standing in the doorway, blushed and bowed slightly at the toast and restrained applause before retreating to the kitchen, the glimmer of a tear in her eye. Susan then stood and bid her guests to join her back in the parlor. Mira told Susan that she would see Tricia back upstairs and to bed, but would be back down shortly. She lingered and took her sweet time helping Tricia hang her formal velvet trimmed robe up and brushed out the girl's hair for bed. Prudencia knocked and entered, asking if Mira needed any help, as it was already past Tricia's bedtime. Mira shook her head no, and leaned down to kiss Tricia goodnight. As she bent down, she whispered in the girl's ear.
"Now, don't fall asleep, I'll sneak back up as soon as I can, okay?"
She left the girl's room while Pru extinguished all but the night lamp and spread an extra blanket across the bed. After a brief stop in the guest suite bathroom to freshen up, Mira headed back to the party. As she descended the stairs, Fletcher met her at the landing.
"What's this about a gentleman friend who gives you fine gifts? Susan said you were a single woman. I know you're divorced, but seeing as he was a muggle, it can be overlooked."
"Susan may have told you I was single, but I'm seeing somebody."
"Oh, are you? Well, are you betrothed to him? Have you signed a contract promising yourself to him?"
"No."
"So, technically, you're not taken."
"As far as old-blood wizarding social mores go, then no. But I'm not interested in anybody else."
Fletcher was looking at her with a hard to read expression, when the woman who admired her brooch at supper approached with two other women in tow.
"I hope we're not intruding, but Florentina and Hesperida are both collectors of antique jewelry, and I told them that they simply had to see the piece you're wearing this evening."
The two middle age witches, who Mira recognized as socialite sisters from Witch Weekly, oohed and aahed over the brooch. Mira led them to a small table, used to play cards and other table games, and untied the ribbon so they could examine it more closely. She explained to them what the motto around the stone said, and that the names on the back were the names of women who had worn it. Fearing that one of the women might recognize the professor's mother's name and realize who gave her the brooch, she put it back on, and told the women the story of the dowry stone.
Thoroughly charmed by the romantic story intertwined with the fine piece of jewelry, the women lingered at the games table. Fletcher had long since retreated to have a chat with Albert, uninterested in women's talk. After a discussion on fashion and beauty regimes, the women thanked Mira for letting them admire her brooch and went back to refresh their drinks. Mira sat back in the chair, and let out a sigh. She looked over to see Fletcher approaching her table with two drinks in hand.
"Damn" she snarled under her breath, fearing that she would have to possibly get ugly to set him straight. He sat at the chair closest to her, and handed her a drink. Another glass of currant rum, but this time a much larger glass. He looked closely at the brooch she wore, squinting his watery little eyes as he leaned in.
"Well, if that's the kind of thing you're into love, I can be much more generous than the chap who gave you that little thing."
Mira looked at him with an incredulous look on her face.
"I told you that I'm not looking for anybody else. I'm flattered that you're interested, but I'm seeing somebody and I am very happy with him."
"He never even need know about me, love. I have a posh little flat here in London that I use when I'm in town. We can spend time together there, and nobody will suspect a thing. And like I said, I can be much more generous."
Mira took a large sip of her drink and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, and I really don't want to be any more unpleasant than I have to be, but I'm simply not interested Mr. Fletcher."
The wizard shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. Mira took another small sip of her rum. It tasted different. She brought it back up and sniffed at it, it smelled different. She swirled the glass around and it had a slightly cloudy look to it, not easily discernable in the larger thicker goblet. Icy tendrils of uneasiness worked their way through her stomach as she realized that the old bastard had put something in her drink.
She looked up at him and he had a strange look on his face. Like a greedy child peering in the window of a candy shop.
"Aren't you going to finish your drink, love? That's much to fine of a vintage to let go to waste."
Mira pretended to take a tiny sip, and smiled at the man. His attention was drawn to a cluster of people who broke out in raucous laughter. Mira seized her chance and dumped most of the drink into a potted fern on a stand next to the gaming table. She raised the glass to her lips as if taking a drink. When Fletcher turned back to her, she set the goblet on the table and reached up to feel her forehead.
"Ooh, I don't think I feel so good. That drink must have been stronger than I expected."
"Oh no love, it's not strong at all. I bet it's the heat from the fireplace that's making you lightheaded. Here, finish your drink, it'll make you feel a little better."
She started fanning her face with her hand and got up from the little table. Fletcher took her by the arm and waist and steered her over to the settee in the corner again.
"Here love, sit down where it's soft."
He sat down next to her, and slipped his arm around her waist. Mira pretended to be woozy and leaned away from him.
"Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home? I have a carriage on call, just say the word and I'll summon it and get you home and make sure you're going to be okay."
"Maybe you should go get my cousin, Mr. Fletcher. I think I've had too much drink and rich food. I really feel dizzy."
"Oh no, love. Let's not go bother your cousin on her big night. I can take care of you."
Mira snorted and thought to herself: "I bet you think you can take care of me, you dirty old bastard."
She rose and pretended to walk on wobbly legs towards the staircase. Fletcher jumped up and reached around her waist to steady her, his fingers straying a little farther up her chest than need be.
"That's it, let me help you upstairs and find you a nice cool place to lie down. We'll get you out of that hot dress so that you can breathe more easily."
Quickly, Mira changed tactics and doubled over, clutching her stomach.
"Oh no. I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to be sick."
She made a nasty gagging noise and the wizard released his grip on her and stepped back. She lunged up the stairs and into Tricia's room, where she quickly shut and locked the door behind her. Tricia bolted upright in bed and looked towards the door.
"Auntie Belle?"
"Yeah, sorry for startling you kiddo. Can I hide out here with you? Mr. Fletcher was very nasty with me down there, and I had to get away from him before things got out of control."
"Oh, Auntie Belle, go tell Father! Tell him that creepy old man was rude to you."
"It's not like that Tricia, for what it's worth, Fletcher is a very important business contact for your father, and I can't risk causing a problem for him. If I try and have Albert get involved, it'll make Mr. Fletcher cross with him. I got away from him, he won't bother me anymore tonight. He thinks I got sick."
"You should tell Professor Snape to put a hex on him. I bet he knows lots of them. He always threatened us with them when we got too loud in class."
Mira smirked and climbed onto the bed with Tricia.
"Yep, he knows some pretty nasty magic alright. But I don't want to worry him with this, he has enough on his mind with the new term starting and all."
"He's not really as mean as he pretends to be, is he?"
"No. Not really. Not to me at least. But you didn't hear that from me kiddo. You go blabbing that the Hogwarts Potions Master has a soft spot for his sweetheart, and his hexes will be the least of your worries. Got that missy?"
Tricia giggled and tossed a pillow at Mira. She tucked it behind her back and leaned back against the headboard. Tricia looked up, with a sheepish grin on her face. They joked and shared girl-talk until close to midnight.
"Hey, I couldn't bring you any champagne, but do you want to see the fireworks anyway?"
"Sure Auntie Belle."
Tricia climbed out of bed and pulled on a heavy dressing gown. Mira got up and wrapped the top blanket from the bed around her body like a cloak. Tricia finished pulling on a pair of fuzzy slippers and unlocked the French doors, which led to her little balcony overlooking the back of the house. The sky was starting to cloud over, but it was not raining or snowing yet. Mira wrapped Tricia up with her in the blanket and heard the guests counting down to midnight down in the sitting parlor. The sky over London erupted in spontaneous flashes of colored light. Both muggle and wizarding fireworks were being shot into the sky. The heavy cloud cover muted the spectacle, which was exciting nonetheless. The final flashes of color over, Mira helped Tricia shut and lock the balcony doors and put the blanket back on the bed.
Before tucking Tricia back in, Mira told her to be good at Beauxbatons, and maybe she would come to France for a visit towards the end of spring. Madame Maxime was an acquaintance of grandmother Eloise, and Mira was sure she could pull some strings and let Tricia spend the day with her auntie and grandmother during one of her free days in Paris.
Quietly, Mira kissed the girl goodnight and goodbye and crept out the door and into the neighboring guest room. She took a magazine and sat on the bed and started to read. In less than a half an hour, Pru knocked on the door asking if Mira was inside.
"There you are, Miss. Your sister couldn't find you, and as that dear old Mr. Fletcher was leaving, he said that you had felt ill and went upstairs. She sent me to check on you and let you know that the party was winding up, and the guests have started to leave. But you could stay on overnight if you needed."
"Oh no, I'm better now. I just had too much drink and rich food for one evening and felt a little queasy, that's all. I best be going. I know Susan and Albert are going to need their rest."
She followed the housekeeper down the stairs and explained to her cousin what had happened. The feeling sick story, of course. She feared that even if she told Susan what really happened, Susan would find a reason to be cross with her. Susan had Albert send for the portcarriage, and Prudencia fetched Mira's cloak for her. She bid her farewells, and arrived back home at the tailor shop at twelve forty in the morning. Very little time to prepare for her rendezvous with the professor.