Hello, my freaky darlings. This chapter and the last exploded onto the paper, I just have to get the next one on the computer. I hope you enjoy this chapter! And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans.
Chapter 55 Boxing Day to the New Year
This year Hermione invited the group from last and some of the friends she'd reconnected with over the year. She even persuaded Harry to let Lolly and Kreacher babysit. Neville asked to bring Hannah Abbott, which Hermione allowed. The veterans helped the newcomers navigate the food. In the rec room, Hermione addressed them, "Reminder, making fun of the low animation quality will result in banishment from movie nights. Reasonable questions will be answered." She used the remote to start the movies. First up the adventures of a red-nosed reindeer. Then a blind drummer boy. They finished with a Santa Claus movie. Groans and grumbles met her announcement that the movies were over. "Blame the Clearwaters! Their fault we have to have a Boxing Day party," she defended.
"Can we get together next week?" asked Peregrine, quieter he continued, "It's Daphne's birthday."
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, "How about the evening of the 6th?"
The elder Greengrass sister clapped her hands gleefully, "My birthday! Oh, yes, please."
Marcus chuckled, "That settles it, the 6th around seven."
As they left, Hannah paused, "Thank you for letting Neville invite me."
"You're welcome. Thank you for coming," Hermione smiled at the former Hufflepuff.
Once again the inclusion of the Clearwater family meant dressing fancier than usual. The only outfit in her closet fancier in her closet at the moment was her masquerade gown for New Year's. They'd watched a movie last week that enticed Marcus to agree to a couple's costume. Though few, if any, would recognize it. To shock this evening's guests of honor, Hermione selected one of Eleanor's more risque dresses. Emerald green, strapless with a slit that ended just below her hip. She wore large emeralds to draw attention to her neckline. Marcus exited the bathroom as she sat finishing her makeup. "This is a horrible idea, complete disaster. Let's stay home instead." He came up behind her and ran his hands over her bare shoulders.
"Does this opinion have anything to do with my dress?"
"It has everything to do with it," he admitted.
"We're going," she told him firmly.
"I know. You can't blame me for trying."
"I cannot." She stood, giving him his first look at the entire dress. "But you can take this dress off me when we get home."
"Salazar," Marcus swore. "I love muggle fashions."
It took Hermione around ten seconds to surmise Roger and Sarah Clearwater were not pleased with the gathering at Lestrange Hall. Mummy Dearest must have explained exactly what she wanted, and the masses aimed to please. She tried not to laugh at Sarah's pinched face and forced smile as Amycus Carrow leered at her. She must have thought Alecto would save her, but her response tightened Sarah's expression. Emily Clearwater looked like she smelled something foul, and kept her arms tightly to her side as if she was afraid to touch anything around her. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. "Looks like the fun began without us," she remarked.
"Someone should have looked less sexy and we might have left earlier," he ran a finger across the back of her shoulders.
"I'm good. Want to mingle together or alone?" she asked.
"Together, at least for now." He grabbed two drinks from the table and handed her one.
"Let's take around the room, then," she accepted her drink with a smile. With the grace of a princess, she moved from knot to knot greeting people. Marcus mostly nodded and shook a few hands. She hugged close friends and family. Graham smiled and waved as Luna explained nargles to Camille and Roger, Jr, who looked confused and concerned.
Yaxley greeted her warmly, cutting Miles off mid-sentence. "There you are, little witch. Look at you. Marriage looks good on you."
"Thank you," she dimpled.
"Flint, you're a lucky son of a bitch." He clapped Marcus on the back, ignoring Miles's outburst of annoyance.
"Correct on both counts," laughed Marcus while Hermione swatted him.
"Quit picking on your mother," she scolded. "Oh, hello, Miles, how are you?"
"I'm well," he answered tersely.
"Enjoying yourself?" she asked brightly.
"Not quite the event we imagined."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, her face shining with fake innocence, "Oh, were you hoping for an intimate family gathering? I'm so sorry."
"No, we thought there would be different guests."
'Of course, you did, you pathetic trolls.' Her face fell, "My apologies, again." She brightened, "Perhaps next time."
"Perhaps," he said noncommittally, looking around nervously. Hermione wondered what some of the rougher elements had done or said.
Eventually, they made their way to the corner table Severus settled himself at. "Headmaster," she nodded in greeting.
"Mrs. Flint," he acknowledged.
"I thought we were on more informal ground, Severus."
"So did I, yet you started it," he pointed out.
She laughed, "So I did. How have you been?"
"I greatly enjoyed myself yesterday. Someone sent me the book that will be the beginning of the end of the cult of Albus Dumbledore. Which I am reading to him a chapter a day. He admits everything so far has been true."
"Stretching out your enjoyment, I approve," she chuckled.
"And his torture, the least he deserves," Severus saluted her with his drink.
"Have you told him of Mrs. Weasley's woes and the next generation of the Potters?"
"No, I want to savor the book first. Then tell him of his dying greater good." Severus smirked and sipped his drink. "After that, I'll explain the Muggleborn Initiative and the acceptance the purebloods are giving it."
"With a drop of blood, they are muggleborn no more. Just beautiful," Hermione sighed happily.
An honor later, Hermione noted Emily, Camille, and Henrietta standing at the French doors looking out onto the back lawn. She slipped up behind them next to Bellatrix, who stood eavesdropping. "Look at it," Emily said wistfully, " it'll look so glamorous with white tablecloths and fairy lights."
"With the sound of a string quartet floating on the spring breeze," Henrietta sighed.
"And white coat waiters circulating with trays of hors d'oeuvres," Camille finished.
"You've convinced me!" declared Bellatrix, startling the three women. "Roddy, darling, we must have an anniversary party this year!"
Rodolphus looked over, "Bella, my sweet, we married in January. I suggest we do it for your birthday in May."
"You are right. January would be too cold for an outdoor party," she beamed. "Thank you for the wonderful suggestions, ladies."
Emily looked on the verge of tears, and Camille and Henrietta looked annoyed. "This is Emily's idea for a party, not yours," hissed Camille.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "I thought we covered this at the wedding. Our familial home is not yours to use as you please. If you want an anniversary party, by all means, have one. Host it at your own home if you cannot afford a venue. Penny will not be hosting anything in your honor. She does not want to. My parents graciously allowed her to include you in their plans because you hounded her. What will it take to get this through your heads? What is ours we share with Penny, but what is hers is not yours." She glared at them. "If you stopped pushing so hard we might be more willing to let you play. But at this rate we'll never know, will we?" Linking arms with her mother left them standing open mouthed.
Hermione's words changed the mood of the gathering. The rank and file began snubbing the Clearwaters, while those like Yaxley and Snape became more cutting in their comments. The Clearwaters departed an hour later. "Dearest, we're losing our touch, the guests are departing before 10 o'clock," Rodolphus remarked.
"Such a pity," Bellatrix replied. The real guests left around 1 am. Everyone but the Clearwater thought the night a success.
New Year's Eve, Harry exited the floo at Courtenay Ave followed by Britta. Both wore bright blue formal dress robes. Britta's mask was fancier with jewels and feathers. Hermione flounced down the stairs in a glittering fluffy skirted ball gown with enormous ball-shaped puffy sleeves. Her hair was styled up in a big hairdo. "Hermione, are you Sarah from Labyrinth?" Harry asked.
"I am. Marcus is the Goblin King, complete with transfigured hair," she giggled.
"How on earth did you get him to agree?" asked Harry.
"His idea. He's wearing the blue suit from the ball scene, not the tight pants," she mock pouted. "We're going to watch it again for Daphne's birthday."
"That makes some sense." He looked up to watch Marcus descend the stairs, his hair now blond and feathered in the 80s punk style David Bowe had in the film.
"Are we ready to go?" Marcus asked slipping on his black silk mask.
"We are," his wife told him with a mischievous smile. "See you there. If you can catch me that is." With a laugh, she threw the powder into the fire and departed.
"Merlin, I love her. She's never boring." Marcus laughed, "Guests first." At Harry's confused look, "The game won't be quite as much fun if I don't give her a head start," he told them.
By ten o'clock Marcus had found his wife and danced with her several times until she sent him off so she could dance with Harry.
"How's it going?" asked searching his eyes, "And don't you lie to me."
"We're still in the honeymoon phase. Everything is new and shiny and exciting. We haven't had to cancel plans because she's working late, or the twins are sick. And maybe when those days come it will be good. Or, maybe not."
"At least you both admit there could be problems, and you have baggage."
"She'd kill me for telling you, and don't tell Viktor, she
took the job here to get away from a cheating ex-boyfriend who wants to get back together. He made a mistake."
Hermione snorted, "At least he admits he did something. Somehow all of the Weasleys' problems are my doing?"
"I kind of blame the obedience charms, they made Molly and Ron hard against you. Ginny just followed in kind."
"I suppose that's it. Still, annoying."
"Well, yeah," Harry agreed.
Marcus reclaimed his wife and kept her close at midnight. "I want to make sure we're together, hopefully snogging, at midnight, that way we do it all year long." She smiled at him, pleased he remembered what she'd said a year ago. They were, indeed, kissing at midnight.
Two days before the students returned to Hogwarts, Hermione met Jacoby and his parents at a cafe just off Diagon Alley. "Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, a pleasure to meet you both." She shook hands with both adults.
"Likewise, Mrs. Flint," Mr. Morgan said. They sat and ordered tea. "Perhaps you can explain all of this better than Jacoby has."
"I can certainly try." She sipped her beverage. "What, if anything, do you know of squibs?"
"Uh, they come from wizard families but are like us. They don't have magic, I mean. Like the opposite of a muggleborn. Did I use the term correctly?"
"You did. And that is essentially what a squib is. Now for the doctoral thesis explanation." The adults laughed, "Muggleborn wizards are the descendants of squibs. The genetic trait for magic is once again strong enough to channel magical ability. Jacoby and I share an ancestor, a distant one, but still. The new initiative is designed to help ease his transition into this new world. Conversely, someday you may be asked to help reciprocate for a squib."
"That seems only fair," Mrs. Morgan replied.
"Do we have to do anything else?" asked Mr. Morgan.
"Be understanding as Jacoby moves further into his new world. It can be hard, and feel like he is leaving you behind. Or at least, that is what I have been told. Be patient and remember the Lestrange family is here for you." She looked at Jacoby, "And that includes refuge should you ever need it for any reason." At his parents' affronted looks she added, "Not every family is understanding, and even the strongest bonds can have breaking points. Someday someone else may need encouragement to seek safety, even if you do not. I remind you so that you might remind others." The muggles looked mollified. The rest of the outing proceeded smoothly. She pointed out several important landmarks and alternate shops.
Ginny had taken to sneak attack halfway through January. She waited until Thorfinn stumbled in and joined him in his bed. Or she slipped into his rooms before dawn. Half the time she could get him aroused and starting to participate before he woke enough to reject her. Tonight she decided to try Lavender's latest suggestion, be waiting for him naked. He usually spent his evenings in his study, she'd spring her ambush there.
She artistically arranged herself in the desk chair. Legs splayed over the armrests, her groin tilted forward, being offered up for his enjoyment. Thorfinn opened the door and took one look and closed the door again, muttering something about needing to burn the chair. Rage flared up in her as she listened to his retreating footsteps. She leapt to her feet, pulling on her robe, and stormed after him. "What is it going to take before you fuck me?" she snarled.
"A divorce and three forms of contraceptives," he shot back. "I don't sleep with married women, and that includes my wife."
"You need to accept we're married."
"No, I don't. Your spawn wasn't mine. That grants me the right to petition for divorce. I don't love you. I never did. You were a good time. I thought you knew that. Now, I don't even like you."
"You can't just set me aside like I'm some cheap whore! Like I don't matter!" she yelled.
"Why not? You're acting like one. You potioned Potter to near death, all the while slagging around with me. You want a rich husband but put no effort into getting one. Since November all you've done is try to get me to sleep with you. No dinner conversations, no asking for dates, just sleep with me so I can get knocked up again and trap you properly this time."
Ginny hung her head, momentarily ashamed. "You haven't made an effort, either."
"I didn't trick you into a marriage you didn't want," he stated calmly. "In May I can officially file and serve you papers. Consider this your unofficial notification. I'm going back out." He left her standing half dressed in the upstairs hallway.
Ron finished cleaning the Three Broomsticks taproom. Rosemerta trusted him enough to close up without her. She'd been dropping hints about wanting to retire part-time, only working when she had a mind to. That would come with another raise. Which was good because Lavender had been hinting she wanted to get married. He'd told her the truth about Hermione and now she occasionally seethed that the bucktoothed swot beat her down the aisle. Ron never mentioned that he had planned to marry Hermione and keep Lavender as a mistress. He still fumed when he thought of Hermione's betrayal. She knew she was supposed to stay with him. His mother ordered her to. Once the war was over he would have ordered her to marry him, wording it like a proposal. That way he would have a respectable and obedient wife. Then he would have carried on as he wished. He grimaced, Lavender kept a close watch over him to keep him from wandering. Briefly, he considered using a charm on her but worried he might mistreat her.
He placed the chairs on the table. He hated that he had not been called to testify about Umbridge. The stupid cow confessed to everything to avoid being kissed. And Harry wanted nothing to do with him, even after all they shared. Then he made the twins his children's godfathers. That stung. None of this would have happened if Hermione had obeyed like she was supposed to, stupid bitch.
Ginny tried to arrange a romantic Valentine's date, but Thorfinn laughed in her face. "That conversation wasn't a suggestion to change my mind. Stop while you have some dignity."
"When we stand in court, at least I can say I tried," she retorted.
"Why should I try? When we were sleeping together you repeatedly told me you had no interest in marrying me. You intended to be Mrs. Harry Potter. I was a good time and some naughty memories. As you are a reasonably attractive woman how was I to know you were pumping him full of love potions and lust dust? I'll grant you things would have gone better if your brother hadn't been doing it at the same time and for years. I was the consolation prize you could get your hands on. By the time you were marrying me, it was so you could be married. My refusal to just adopt the children foiled any hopes you had of keeping things together. Right now the gossip has died down around the Potter twins. When they are mentioned, no one follows up with a mention of you. Do yourself a favor and quietly fade into the background. Sign the papers in May and we both go our own way. Try to fight this, or press the issue and you will regret it. You are not the victim here, sweetie. You're the villain. The sooner you get that through your thick little head the happier we will both be." He turned to leave, "The only one with any delusions about this situation is you, dearest," he sneered.