The Hogsmeade morning dawned nice and clear. Harry supposed he should be happy about that, but he had little room for anything but his nervousness.
He had written about his date to both Alduin and Sirius, though to the latter only because he asked if Harry had a date and Harry didn't want to lie. Alduin had congratulated him on his taste regarding his partner's House, and then proceeded to give him tips about how to behave. Sirius, on the other hand, had asked if Cho was pretty, and remarked that Quidditch girls were the best girls. Harry could certainly see the sense in that sentiment.
Ron, Seamus and Dean all clapped Harry on the shoulder, wishing him good luck, and Neville did so in a more subdued manner. Harry was the most thankful for his support, because he felt guilty: he had promised Neville he would start duelling with him, but first with the Quidditch training and then with his distraction over the date, he hadn't had the time – or the focus – to prepare the lessons. Neville just told him that it was fine, that there was no rush, but Harry firmly promised himself that as soon as the date was done and he was no longer distracted, he would begin working on it in earnest.
But then Harry was out of the Great Hall and in the Entrance one, waiting for Cho, and thoughts of everything else fled his head.
She came, and she looked wonderful, even better than at the pitch, which Harry hadn't though possible. She smiled at him a little shyly, and he smiled back, though he wasn't sure it didn't look more like a grimace, with the nerves and everything.
"Shall we?" She asked. He only nodded, and they set out together.
There was silence between them as they walked across the lawn in front of the castle and Harry was desperately trying to come up with something to say when Cho broke the rising awkwardness by saying: "I'm glad you didn't take Wood's advice and knock me off the broom last week!"
Harry laughed. "I wouldn't….though you were a little irritating."
"If I was only a little irritating, I was doing something wrong!" Cho replied with an answering laugh.
"You were pretty inventive in your blocking strategies," Harry admitted. "You reminded me of something I saw at the IQT finals two years ago, from the Quafflepunchers."
Cho's eyes lit up in excitement. "Oh, you were at the IQT finals? I've never gone, I only know the UK league. It must be great!"
"It was pretty cool," Harry admitted, "but I can't compare, I've never actually been to any UK league matches in person, though I do have a bunch of displayers with them."
"Well, when the memory is from a good vantage point, a displayer is almost as good as being there in person," Cho pointed out, which was a fair point.
"Plus there's the commentary," Harry added. It always helped him make sense of the matches.
"When it's good, yes," Cho replied. "Honestly, I've had displayers with commentary that only made the match more confusing. But, anyway, I haven't been to a league match for ages either, what with all of them being during the school year. I mean, I suppose I could catch some during Easter break, but it's too short to do things like that..."
"Right?" Harry said with complete understanding. "I always barely have enough time to spend with my cousins and see a few friends..."
"Oh, right, you live with your cousins...I read about that in the Prophet, I think." Harry grimaced a little at the idea, and Cho said: "They're a Ravenclaw family, aren't they?"
"Yeah." Harry considered telling Cho of Alduin's congratulations, but decided not to.
"Did they take you to the IQT?" Cho wondered.
"Yeah..." Harry said again. "I don't think my cousin liked it very much, to be honest, but he knew I liked it, so he took me."
Cho smiled. "That's great of him!"
"He's pretty great," Harry agreed.
"What did he think when you were sorted into Gryffindor?" She wondered.
Harry shrugged. "He pretty much expected it, to be honest. I mean, both of my parents were Gryffindors, and well...I basically told him outright that the Ravenclaw approach was not for me. Er, no offense," he added hastily when he realized who he was talking to.
Cho waved it aside. "It's fine. But I'm curious, what exactly do you mean?"
Harry thought about how to explain. "Well, you know, it just seems to me that he always has such good reason for the things he does, reasons I can understand, but at the same time I don't really get why he does it. It's very reasonable, but not...relatable, I guess?"
"I thought that was the idea," Cho said with some surprise. "You know, not getting swept away by anger or anything, and doing what's reasonable instead."
Harry shrugged again. "I guess...but it seems to me that half the time, it means you can't do anything."
"Is it like that with your cousin?" Cho wondered.
"Not exactly..." Harry shook his head. "I can't explain it, really. It just doesn't feel right."
She laughed. "That's very Gryffindorish of you."
"Guilty as charged," Harry said with a grin. "What about your family, are they Ravenclaws too?" He asked then.
"My mum was in Slytherin, actually," Cho answered, "but yeah, dad was a Ravenclaw. So I think they were pretty happy."
Now Harry was curious. "Did the Hat give you a choice?"
"Yes, between these two houses," Cho confirmed.
"It offered me Slytherin too," Harry confessed.
"I'm not surprised no one really chooses it," she muttered.
Harry frowned. "I wouldn't have minded it, really, it's just that I think I'm a better fit for Gryffindor."
"I don't have anything against the house," Cho hurried to reassure him. "Obviously, when my mum was in it. But, I mean, the reputation it has, you know? Mum said it wasn't really like that when she was Sorted, otherwise she'd have asked to be put somewhere different...who wants to have people thinking you were a future Death Eater all the time?"
"It's really irritating they think that, though," Harry pointed out.
Cho shrugged. "I agree, but there you have it."
They walked on for a little while in silence. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see how easy it was to talk to her, especially now that his nervousness abated. When they reached Hogsmeade, he had a moment of panic when he realized his plans never progressed much further than 'go to Hogsmeade', but then he remembered something Alduin wrote to him and asked Cho where she wanted to go. She suggested Madam Puddifoot's, the tearoom Harry had heard about from Seamus. He agreed, and so she led him down a side street and inside a very pink room that was full of students – mostly older ones, but Harry spotted Draco and Pansy at a table near the window before they even entered, and further inside, there was – to his shock – Kiara and Parvati, holding hands.
Cho soon distracted him from that surprise, however, when she took his own hand and led him to one of the few free tables. Soon they were ensconced in a very pink sofa and ordering tea, sitting so close their sides were touching, and Cho still holding his hand.
"You said you used to go to league matches," Harry said when he got over his flustered state over so much physical contact, looking for another topic. "Who did you support?"
"The Tornadoes," Cho said with a smile. "Always the Tornadoes. You?"
"Ah, I'm a Magpies guy," Harry replied.
She grinned. "Ha, you go for the winners, I see!"
He rolled his eyes at that. "You're one to talk, with how Tornadoes have been doing lately!"
"But I've waited patiently for that through years of devoted fangirling!"
They teased each other about their favourite teams for a while, until the tea was brought. They they discussed the league a little more seriously as they drank it, and before Harry knew what happened, it was afternoon and Cho was saying: "It's been great, Harry, but I promised my friends I'd spend some time with them as well, so...wouldn't you mind too much?"
"No, of course not, er..." Harry hesitated, unsure how to ask.
"I'd love to spend some more time with you," Cho helped him out.
"There's really nowhere much to go at Hogwarts..."
Cho shrugged. "The grounds are wide enough, and hopefully it will be a little warmer soon."
"Next Saturday, then?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Sure. Meet you in the Entrance Hall."
And Cho gave him a peck on the lips and then she was gone, leaving him there completely giddy and unable to form a coherent thought.
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Alexandra's confinement ended in mid-February, and it was time for another naming ceremony. It was easier for Alduin this time, knowing what to do and what to expect, and being less on the verge of a mental breakdown. Alexandra, on the other hand, seemed much more tired.
"I'd have never guessed," she muttered at lunch before the ceremony was to take place, "that there could be so much difference between having one child and having two."
Alduin immediately felt guilty. "I should be spending more time with Wynn..."
She waved her hand. "You have your hands full, with the Black trial around the corner and the other things, too. I don't blame you. I'm just surprised. Rather reluctantly, I have to say I'm beginning to feel some admiration for Molly. How she raised seven children with no house elves, I have no idea."
Alduin shrugged. "Well, you have seen how she raised them..."
Alexandra, however, shook her head. "That only applies to Ron and the twins, as far as we can tell. It still means she managed to raise three good, well-behaved sons before things got out of hand for her, and honestly, with twins, I'm not surprised they did. It makes me feel extremely grateful that we use all the potions we do, because the idea of accidental twins frankly terrifies me."
"Do you have a history of them in the family?" Alduin wondered.
"No, fortunately not," Alexandra said with feeling.
"Neither do I, so it would be extremely unlikely," he pointed out.
"Better safe than sorry," Alexandra muttered, turning to cut some more of Wynn's meat for him.
But as always, by the time the guests started to arrive for the naming, she looked perfectly composed. Wynn was given to Patritia Ollivander to guard him for a time as the guests all filed into the ballroom to stand by the sides as Alduin waited at one end, and Alexandra appeared on the other, dressed in very light blue to symbolize the new beginning, with Edric in her arms in elaborate robes and blankets of the same colour. Theoretically, she was supposed to have taken a ritual bath the night before, but Alexandra wasn't exactly strict in her observances and told him plainly what she thought of the idea of bathing in a river in February. A regular bath, she told him, would have to suffice. He could hardly force her, and so the clothes symbolism was the only thing that remained, reminding him of water.
In complete silence, she walked through the crowd until she reached him, and handed his son to him. "I give you a son," she said.
He took him from her, and cradling him in his arms, showed him to the room and said: "I name him Edric."
"I accept the name," Alexandra replied, and went to stand next to him, facing the room.
Alduin then intoned the traditional prayer for a good, blessed life for his son, and Alexandra added another one to Brigid. Then they both finished with a well-known prayer to all the gods, in which they were joined by most of the present guests. And then it was time to move to the dining room, for an extended afternoon tea.
Alexandra went to get Wynn from her friend, and Alduin accepted congratulations from Abdullah. "I always wonder whether it bothers you, to be present at this," he said to his friend once the formalities were fulfilled. "You know I would understand if you didn't come."
Abdullah gave him a look. "Had you been awake at the time, would you have come to my children's aqiqahs?"
"Of course!" Alduin replied, almost offended by the mere question.
Abdullah raised his eyebrow. "There you have it, then."
"But it's different," Alduin insisted. "I don't have any particular problems with your religion, but I'm well aware you...shall we say, have reservations?"
Abdullah shrugged. "Maybe it'd be harder for me if I thought you really believed there were ten different pseudo-people somewhere in the sky-"
"Not in the sky," Alduin corrected with a grin.
Abdullah waved his hand. "Wherever, ruling the world. But we've talked about your personal theology often enough that I understand it's not quite like that. Frankly, during the ceremony, I mostly wondered why you do that. I mean, Cernunnos, Brigid...I know you don't actually believe in that."
It was a little more complicated, but Alduin didn't feel like getting into it at the moment. They'd done if often enough in the past, like Abdullah said, during their friendly theological disputations at Hogwarts. "It's tradition to pray to them during the naming ceremony," he said instead, simply. It was one of the few rites that were at least partially preserved among the old families, and so it was considered good form to follow them if you claimed some kind of adherence to this tradition – unless you were an Ollivander, of course, whose religious customs were so much older than this.
Abdullah's mouth twisted at the argument. "I could give you some choice quotes about 'following what we found our fathers following', but I'm afraid that would be stepping over the line into proselytizing, and I'd never be so gauche at your son's naming, so I'll just go have some tea instead."
Alduin laughed. It was true, he supposed, that there was a wider gap between his religious practice and belief than Abdullah could easily relate to. But such was the fate of all Ravenclaws who wanted to preserve at least some remnants of the original traditions. And who knew. There were no druidic theological treatises preserved, since it hadn't been traditional to write these things down. It was entirely possible that their own elaboration had not been so far from the ones of Proclus and other great Greek thinkers of polytheism.
Alduin shook his head. Now was not the time to contemplate his personal cosmology. He had guests to entertain. He turned and joined the nearest group with tea in their hands. Mrs. Perseus Yaxley stood there, an excited glint in her eyes, and after congratulating him perfunctorily, she rushed to say: "Have you heard? Yezabel Proudfoot is finally pregnant! It was high time if you ask me..."
Alduin gave a very small sigh, and prepared to listen to the irrepressible chatter of the lady.
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AN: The verse Abdullah was on the verge of quoting was 2:170, chiefly, but of course, like he said, he'd never be so gauche.