Chapter Forty-Five: Veelas in the family
Severus is forced to rethink his Veela heritage.
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Severus pulled Hermione into his arms once they were ensconced in bed. He was only thankful he'd been completely upfront with her about his heritage. Claudia's arrival hadn't, in that sense, disrupted anything but their quiet dinner at home.
But he couldn't stop the frown that marred his features at the thought of the girl who called herself his long lost cousin. He could not deny her Veela blood, she was a pureblooded descendant of his own ancestress's brother, but her arrival made him feel extremely uncomfortable. It made him see how beautiful the Golden Juliana would have been, forced him to understand what her family had lost in their loss of her. He couldn't continue to hold on to his anger at their treatment of her and her descendants. He could now begin to see things from their point of view, to understand what they thought of as their just anger at her high-handed behaviour and rejection of their traditional values.
If Claudia was anything to go by, Juliana could have married into one of the Royal Houses of Europe. For Juliana to choose a man purely for love must have definitely seemed, at least in the eyes of her pureblood family, a kin to throwing herself away.
Severus sighed and felt Hermione snuggle closer to his side. He knew he had no right to talk. His Hermione could have had anyone she wanted. Her heroine status and the Malfoy connection would have ensured that. Instead, she had agreed to marry him. She'd asked Lucius to approach him and all of that before she was even fully into her powers.
And yet, this did mean that Severus would have to talk about his family's past. He knew Narcissa and Lucius would not let this matter drop. Not now that the days of secrecy and deception were behind them.
Claudia had arrived at their gates completely unannounced. She had been clutching the invitation from the Malfoys in her hand as though it were a life-line and that, and her blood connection to him had acted as a conduit with which to Apparate to his place of abode. She wasn't able to breach his wards, or the wards of the house and grounds, but she had been able to make her desire to speak to him clearly known.
Severus was still reeling from the young woman's decision. He knew how traditional Veelas were. They stuck to the old in all possible ways. This dropping in, as it were, was not part of normal family etiquette.
Nonetheless, formally given invitation or not, the blood he shared with Claudia had been more than enough to ensure that the wards had accepted her right to address him. When she'd informed him that she had received an invitation to the Malfoys' party, a visit to spend the last days of the year en-famille, he'd nearly blown a fuse. It was only Hermione's presence that had prevented him from throwing her out. Where had the bloody Veela kin been when he had needed them, when his mother had been beaten, when he had gone hungry? Now, they wanted to know him. This baggage wanted to know him.
But Hermione was right. Claudia was young, too young to be held to blame for the decisions and curses heaped on him and his family. And she seemed genuine in her desire to get to know someone she considered family. But if the Malfoys had extended an invitation, they could bloody well entertain the impertinent chit.
He'd Flooed to the Manor with that thought and no other uppermost in his mind. Hermione and Claudia trailing behind him like two ducklings trying to keep up with their mother duck. He'd completely forgotten about the party.
He'd been glad to hand over the baggage to Narcissa. There was nothing that could be done that evening. There were too many guests for a more private discussion.
Once Severus and Hermione had departed for Ryde, Narcissa took Claudia away to be introduced to Astoria and Draco. Harry, unable to resist, followed like a star-struck fool in their wake. He remembered vaguely that he had teased Ron about his own obsession with Fleur but he couldn't stop wanting to focus only on the beautiful Claudia.
Hermione could see that Claudia's arrival had completely thrown her Severus. He'd been biting in his criticism of the letter his family had sent. And he'd definitely not expected them to attempt more contact unless he responded, which he had, until Claudia's arrival still been debating about doing. He'd assumed that they would be under the impression that as mere British wizard, albeit an illustrious one, he would be the one eager to make their acquaintance. Hermione hadn't been so sure, but she'd not said anything to him then. She had thought they had time to see how things would pan out.
Not in their wildest dreams had either of them assumed that an excited, young and totally enchanting woman on the cusp of her maturity would rebel against the weight of Veela etiquette by coming to meet her long-lost kin. Claudia had broken the rules, the rules that determined who was more important, who held the balance of power in their relationship. She'd made herself vulnerable, she'd shown that it was she who was yearning to know her lost kin.
It spoke of youth, but it also spoke of recklessness. Hermione recognised in the young woman some of her own characteristics.
Severus had held his silence until they were in their bedroom. Now she listened to him sigh deeply.
Hermione smiled in the darkness. He'd be annoyed if he could see her face.
Finally, he pulled her tighter into his arms. "She's a bloody Gryffindor," he said once he'd done his internal grumbling. "I'm sure you've found another kindred soul to join your little gang of trouble-makers if this is the way her mind works."
Hermione grinned. Burrowing into his side, she kissed him softly on his bare chest. "Did you see Harry's reaction to her? He was smitten."
"Oh, joy," said Severus. "Soon I'll be related to Potter."
"Oi," said Hermione, giggling. "You already are, though I suppose, not really, not by blood."
Severus deigned not to answer that. Instead, he said, "The Veelas must be hopping mad. Or perhaps not. Perhaps they are overjoyed at being rid of her. The Veelas aren't known for producing Gryffindors after all. One wonders how they managed to produce one in the depths of the Black Forest. I thought the training would be more exact, especially if they still remember how they lost Juliana."
Hermione smiled. Now that she was assured, deep in her soul of his devotion to her, she found his sarcasm and black moods cute and amusing. She knew he found her reactions to him infuriating and baffling, but gratifying. The soul-binding made it so easy to understand each other, to not read each other's mind, but definitely to feel the other's emotions on some distinct level.
"Maybe there's a Gryffindor trait long buried. It would go a long way to explaining your bravery." She kissed her way down his chest, before nuzzling her nose against the sensitive skin of his stomach.
Hermione could feel Severus frowning at her.
She kissed him again, and allowed him to feel the smile on her face.
"No teasing," he said grumpily.
"Why not?" asked Hermione. "You know the four Houses don't encompass everything about people. We all have different sides to our personality. You're as brave and as courageous as any Gryffindor. You might not be obvious about it, but I can't think of anyone braver than you."
Hermione stroked Severus with her words, and her love. She still found it amazing that her husband would find praise so unexpected.
Severus turned to her then and pulled her up his torso to kiss her deeply. Conversation was no longer necessary. They had other ways of communicating their affection and appreciation of each other.
Claudia was like a delicately fragrant zephyr as she moved among the guests, arm-in-arm with Narcissa and Astoria. Her pure golden hair a striking contract to Narcissa's platinum blonde and Astoria's honey locks.
Her voice as she spoke to those she was introduced to was a secret whisper aimed straight at Harry's heart as he followed the trio of women, Draco by his side. He felt like sunlight was infusing his soul as she explained how delighted she was to be in England for the first time.
Every word Claudia uttered made Harry's heart pound. A part of him, the part that had helped him resist the Imperio, forced him to realise that he was ripe for being used, but he truly didn't care. He could logically realise that she was a beautiful Veela and he was falling head-over-heels, but it didn't matter. He knew it, he could feel it. He'd never seen a woman more beautiful. Her voice, her eyes, her very being called to him. But that was the Veela allure and he remembered what they had truly looked like after their performance at the Quidditch World Cup. How could he forget that? And yet, he still continued to follow the women, a besotted expression on his face.
Twice, Harry tried to draw away. Draco was immune to her allure because of the love he bore his fiancée. The young blond was more than willing to participate in distracting conversation with his dark-haired companion, and yet, a gesture, a tinkling laugh, and Harry would be pulled back by her sapphire eyes. Goddess but she was amazingly captivating.
A.N:/ What do you think? Love it or hate it, do let me know.