Chapter 8

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, where have you been? Why does my daughter have to run to Europe to attend school? Do you realize what the other mothers were saying about me?" Mom screamed. Just great! I wonder who called the wicked witch of the east to our park. Mom was wearing a dress with the length ending mid-shin. Her dainty heeled black boots lightly brushed the skirt of her brown dress. She wore a light brown contoured winter jacket to accentuate her figure. Helen had more curves than me, and she used every opportunity to flaunt her shape while maintaining modesty. Her makeup and hair were perfect. The scowl on her face took away from her natural beauty.

"Hello to you too, mother. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How are you? It is very nice to see you again," I sweetly said. Hermione wisely remained quiet. I couldn't help noticing she stepped behind me to stay out of Helen's direct line of sight.

"Grandpa was right, Mom. Your mom is very mean," Hermione whispered into my back. I reached back to grab her hand, giving her the comfort she needed in our current situation.

Mom was still ranting about me leaving home and how I was a disappointment to her. She said I was an embarrassment to the family. I nearly laughed when Hermione stepped from behind me and squared her shoulders. She held out her shaky hand and said, "I think you are the only embarrassment to the family. Hello, I'm Hermione, and you are?"

I watched Mom's mouth open and close as she took a good look at the spitfire girl standing beside me. Hermione was still holding my hand. The door banged open. "Helen. What are you doing?" Dad yelled.

Hermione dropped my hand, ran and took a flying leap. "Grandpa!" she shouted. "I missed you." She buried her face into his neck. Mom took a closer look at Hermione. Judgement was clearly showing on her face. I could feel the heat of disappointment and anger radiating off her body as though made of fire.

"She's yours?" she shouted. "I always knew you were a little slut! You need to marry Joseph Morelli immediately. How dare you raise that bastard without her father." Mom's face turned red as she directed all her ire at me. She clutched her purse closer to her breast when Dad set Hermione back on her feet. I couldn't believe Mom didn't trust my daughter. Her motion didn't go unnoticed by my very observant daughter.

"Go back to your mother. I'll handle your grandmother," Dad told Hermione. She lowered her head as she walked towards me. I was so exhausted from Mom's very public and embarrassing reaction. Hermione was shaking in fear. She had never experienced such rage from another human. Being related to this vile woman only made her fear more pronounced.

"Dad, I can defend myself. Mom, listen closely to my words. I have not, nor will I ever, have sexual intercourse with Joseph Morelli. Hermione's father, Carl Costanza and I will not get married. The last time I had checked, I was a grown woman, capable of making decisions for myself. Thank you for showing your granddaughter your true colours. Goodbye, Helen," I said. It took all my inner strength to refrain from casting a hex on my mother.

I grabbed Hermione's hand to lead her out the door. Carl instantly placed himself between Helen and us. He motioned towards his coworkers for assistance. Mom and Dad had a very public verbal sparring match. It wouldn't be the first time they argued about me.

"I'm glad you're my mom," Hermione said when we got into my car. She couldn't understand how someone could be so mean to their child. "Was grandma always that mean?"

Stephanie carefully thought about what she wanted to say. "Grandma never understood me. She knew from the time she reached her seventh month of pregnancy that I would be different from Valerie. Grandma would read cookbooks or the newest decor magazine, but I wouldn't settle. When grandpa read math or science books, I would calm. It continued after I was born. My sister, Valerie, your aunt, enjoyed cooking and cleaning," I explained.

"You didn't enjoy domestic chores," Hermione guessed.

"That's correct. We both know that I still don't. With magic, it makes cleaning and cooking bearable," I confessed.

Hermione giggled. She knew I hated to cook. I had to follow a recipe as though it was a potion to make the food edible. Thankfully, Aunt Jean patiently taught me how to cook. It took a while for me to catch on, but I got there in the end. "I'm still trying to figure out how you got the pot to explode," Hermione added.

"To be honest, me too," I stated. "I wasn't even using my wand."

"In charms class, a fellow Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan, always blows up things. Neville Longbottom, the boy with the toad, melted a few caldrons during potions classes. It's because of improper wand usage," Hermione offered.

"That doesn't help, Hermione," I said. "It makes me feel like an idiot."

She giggled. "Mom, I was merely adding perspective. If you already got some training, you could use your wand without holding it in your hand. I read about it in Wand Safety."

"Of course, you did," I groaned.

"Mom, you didn't learn about being a witch until you were sixteen. It's natural to be clumsy when you're learning," Hermione explained.

"Still not helping, Hermione," I reiterated, smiling. Hermione knew I was pulling her chain. It was fun to get her worked up.

"I see what you did, mom. Well played," Hermione said, laughing. "Could I bring Harry Potter home with me?"

"We'll see. I would love to meet your friends, but I think it would be best to visit while in Europe. His aunt and uncle probably want to keep him closer to home."

She snorted. "I doubt that. They made Harry sleep in a closet under the stairs. Mom, they had a spare bedroom, but they didn't give it to him until Mr. Dursley noticed the Hogwart's letter got addressed to the location. Personally, I think Harry preferred to sleep under the stairs than to get a bedroom because it looked bad to the magic community."

"Too many people focus on how they get perceived by others instead of doing what is morally and ethically right," I said, sighing. Harry probably felt like an intruder in his new room.

Hermione had told me about Harry Potter in her letters. It wasn't even a drop in the hat of what she had learned from the boy. My life with Helen Plum wasn't the best. However, it was nothing compared to the neglect and abuse Harry suffered from the Dursley family. "Can't he live with another wizarding family?" I asked.

"Harry said that Dumbledore told him it was important to stay with his aunt and uncle. Dumbledore didn't give him a real reason. But I think it's because his mom died to protect him, and old magic keeps Harry safe. I've been searching for an answer in the library. There weren't a lot of cases," Hermione replied. She tended to ramble on about her favourite subject. Harry James Potter fits that category.

I parked my car beside the dumpster. Hermione and I exited the car to walk into the apartment building. Using my wand, I silently cast the charm to make sure nobody was lurking inside the apartment. Once I determined it was safe, I unlocked to door.

"What about Ron Weasley? Where does he fit into all of this?" I asked after closing the door behind us.

"He's jealous of Harry. I don't understand why, though. Ron has two loving parents, five brothers and a sister. Sure, his parents don't have a lot of money, but they make up for it. Oh, I sent Harry and Ron gifts for Christmas. I hope you don't mind that I used money from the vault," Hermione explained.

"Not at all. It was a thoughtful gesture," I said. "Regarding Ron. Is he the youngest?"

"No. Ron has one younger sibling, his sister, Ginny," Hermione replied.

"I think they kept having children until they got a daughter. Maybe Ron is jealous because he wasn't the girl his mom wanted," I suggested.

"Or he feels that whatever remarkable thing he achieves, his brother's had done it first," Hermione added.

"Fair point, well made. Being friends with Harry Potter, a famous child in the magical world probably doesn't help."

Hermione removed her books from the backpack and got herself settled at the table. I left her to get my report on shrinking bras. A couple of disgruntled workers at E E Martin thought it would be funny to enchant bras to shrink on muggle women. The employees got terminated, but it was too late. The company had sold over one hundred units.

"Shit," I said while proofreading my report. "I forgot the ministry of magic called muggles by nomag in the states."

"The worldwide magical world should agree on an appropriate term. Did you know that each country has a unique term for non-magical people? But they use wizard and witch?" Hermione rhetorically asked, giving me a history lesson on the origin of the terminology.

After I fixed the errors in my report, I printed the document to send by owl post. I snapped my fingers to call Chipper. He arrived with a snowy owl. "Hello, there. You are a pretty bird," I said, permitting the owls to enter my apartment.

"Hedwig," Hermione exclaimed. Hermione removed the parcel that was attached to Hedwig's leg.

Ron had sent her chocolate frogs and jelly beans. Harry sent her a book of advanced charms for the young witch and candy quills.

I set out water and granola for Hedwig. Chipper carried a note from home. "Wilma will deliver our gifts on Christmas Eve," I told Hermione, handing her a letter from Jean. "When you're ready to travel, Chipper, take this report to the ministry of magic in New York."

Chipper ate some granola and drank water before he affectionately nipped my finger. He flew out the window to deliver my report. Hedwig sat on Chipper's perch to sleep. "Hedwig is Harry's owl. She must have flown all night to deliver the gifts," Hermione observed.

"Hedwig is welcome to stay as long as she needs," I stated. Hedwig opened her eyes to look at me. She winked before closing them again. "I'll let her out in a few hours to catch mice."

I lived in a one-bedroom apartment. At the back of the kitchen, I had extended the area to give Hermione a bedroom. Unless you were a witch or wizard, you couldn't see the door. Hermione finished her charms homework before retiring for the night.

Using my wand, I conjured my vibrator. I only had sex one time with a partner. All my orgasms got mechanically induced. If only I knew someone who could help. Not Carl, because I'm not doing that again. Eddie got married to my cousin, which left Denzel.

My phone rang from inside my purse. I grabbed the offensive object that interrupted my pleasure. "Hello," I answered.

"Hey, Steph. It's Big Dog. I'm standing outside your door. Could you let me in?" he asked.

I ended the call and maneuvered to the entrance. Big Dog grinned on the other side of the door. "Come in, but be quiet. Hermione went to bed," I whispered.

"I'm here to help," Big Dog said, stroking my cheek. "I figured you could use a hand." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Before we get started, I want you to know that I never had sex with Barnhardt."

Without wasting time, I guided him to my bedroom. I used the excuse to freshen up to cast a silencing charm in my room. Hermione catching us would not be good.

Big Dog kissed me as he pulled the elastic from my hair. I tugged on his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his head. Breaking the kiss, I said, "You've been working out. I love the muscles."

"Less talking, more of everything else," he replied. I let Big Dog love me. It's been so long since I felt the touch of a male on my body. He kissed, nibbled and licked my body. I orgasmed as he sucked my nipple. "May I?" he asked, fingers touching my folds. His fingers slipped into me after I nodded.

"Oh," I moaned. "That feels good." He shifted his body until his mouth joined his fingers. I felt another orgasm building. Big Dog pressed his tongue against my clit before sucking it into his mouth. I exploded around him. "I need you inside."

Big Dog grabbed the condom he had shoved under my pillow. He tore the package open to cover himself. Before he pushed into me, he said, "I'm not looking for a girlfriend or relationship. If you want more, tell me, and I'll stop."

"More sex," I moaned. "I don't want a boyfriend. All I want right now is a penis-induced orgasm." Obviously, it was the right thing to say. Big Dog shoved inside me in one move. He waited a few seconds before he started the in-and-out motion.

After bringing me to the edge a few times before slowing down, he picked up the pace to shove deep inside. My orgasm got built up to an explosive level. I felt my entire body shake as I released, pulsating around him. He moaned, "Steph," as he emptied inside me. The image I'd been seeing flashed in my mind. I could feel him near.

"Denz," I said after we separated our bodies. "Thank you for helping me expel the pent-up sexual frustration."

"But?" he asked.

"But we can't do this again. I'm supposed to be meeting my soulmate soon," I confessed.

"And if we continue our sex-only relationship, it could jeopardize your meeting one another," he stated. I nodded. "Sweetheart." Big Dog wiped a tear off my face. "I love you, and I always will. Whenever you need a friend, I'll be here." He kissed me on the lips before climbing out of bed. "Thank you for giving me one night of amazing sex."

I pulled on an oversized shirt before I escorted him to the door. He kissed me again, then walked out of the apartment. After I closed and locked the door, I rested my head against the cold metal.