Rattle, rattle thump, BANG! Oh, that?… *Looks at the chained trunk of plot bunnies in malicious glee.* Uhm, that's nothing. *Grins*
Thorfinn rolls his eyes as he plays with the girls while his mother chatters on about the Squib clinic. "it wasn't dirty or…"
Linenne was overwhelmed and over the moon as she herds the girls into the house. Healer, no Dok-tor. Icaza and her colleague Dr. Djourno, explained the possible treatments, hearing aids or co-ch-lear implants. By the Gods there are options! Quickly they were whisked to another office where Tyra sat in her lap with 'head-fones' as they went through several tests to see how damaged her sweet one's hearing truly is. Tyra's eyes widen in surprise as she heard words in such a long time. Interesting enough triggering a bit of accidental magic.
After a cloud of glittery purple dissipates kitten ears peak through everyone's head.
Perplexed both Linenne begin to touch their ears as both Hermione and Tyra giggle.
With sure hands, Hermione helps Tyra with the headphones then gently takes the girl into her arms pressing her forehead to the child she hums. It is a gentle tune soothing all within the room. Tyra settles in her arms as Eydís holds the doctor's free hand.
Turning towards her as she reads the paper that rolled out of a small Dr. Djourno distracts her with a possible diagnosis and treatments.
Lienne almost lost her composure as she became glassy-eyed watching Tyra contentedly, humming.
HUMMING!
Thorfinn doesn't pause as he hears there may be a possible treatment for his little girl. The gallons to pay for the treatment wasn't an issue. His worry was staying out of the limelight so his children could live a better life.
"How do we know that they won't gossip? How do we keep this confidential? You know something always gets out."
Setting on the couch the elves bring a light snack of Horchata, tea, and fartons. After setting the milky drink and pastry for the grandchildren she cuts her eye to her only living child. Clucking, with a sniff, "Boy, did you not hear who their doctor is now? Or did you just tune me out from the moment we crossed the threshold?"
Settling on the chair across the low table where the children sit in low seats, he grins, "I said hello."
Pressing her lips in displeasure she growls, "I'm surprised you made it to thirty, boy. I said Dr. Icaza will be the lead healer for the girls, Finn. Dr. Hermione Icaza nee Granger. Her integrity isn't in question."
Thorfinn, kept control of his shock showing as he fixes his coffee. "Then Tyra's treatment may not be the subject of gossip."
Dainty dabbing the corners of her mouth, Linenne watches her son. "That is high praise coming from you."
Finishing his first sip, "In school, she detested gossiping. She said, "Only the vapid and malicious revel in it. Hence the reason you have to use small words to explain things to them."
A teasing glint enters his mother's eyes, "Is that the reason she was the only female in that damn school that kept your interest for four years?"
Sitting back he crosses his legs, shifting his eyes focus on the girls. For a moment he relived a memory as the fingertips of his left hand softly skim this upper lip.
"No, it was the sadistic hexes she would come up with when we dueled. Even as a first-year she didn't back down. 'Bout time I left she had a wicked left hook and the nastiest cruel smirk when she hexed. She was about 15 or 16 when I graduated by then. The last time I saw her, Duchess 'Obliviate' uchitel and I. It took Riddle's torture the uncover the buried memories."
His eyes filled with mirth then, "I was proud of her then, especially after I heard she survived that...Riddle's mad dog."
Leanne was mute as Thorfinn spoke, he would rarely talk of those dark days of insanity. The short flat answers were the most he would share. Here he spoke with an undercurrent of heat.
Softly she probs "Is she the one, älskling?"
Nervously he shifts, then touches both girls' braids, "My Duchess should have been their mother."
Minutes pass as the girls finish their snack and go to play in the next room, "Alskling, why do you call Hermione, Duchess?"
His face became dark, "She earned the respect of some upperclassmen, which titled her 'Duchess'. 'Princess' was a word for the delicate and demure. Besides she hexed anyone who called her Princess with a combination of yellow feathers, purple itchy rashes and a lingering smell of dragon dung and would last for weeks.
She proved herself as sharp as a sickle.
Look, we knew Muggleborns and muggle raised children that are dull as ditchwater and brass necked. How could these outsiders fit in a world steeped in the magical tradition of Merlin and Nimue? To understand the intricacies of a society established before the Roman invasion? It was hilarious watching the interlopers fumble.
Mum, Duchess broke that mold by following something so simple yet significant.
She was a tiny bit of fluff then, most of the hair and teeth back when she came to Hogwarts.
Barreling her way through the halls with sheer determination to prove herself better. It was laughable then, making herself an easy target. A witch with no magical lineage or protection was useless in this society. The only contribution expected of her would be to have sprogs. Useless as they may be, magical babies were needed.
She was already judged as a mere chit of wild curls and magic, yet her manners adhered to many social queues of conduct of the highborn. Where in Hades did this lowborn learn proper etiquette? As others stumbled and faltered, she made the correct social engagements of being polite, respectful and underlying scathing.
Many pureblood females of all the houses didn't appreciate that. Consistently beating everyone within her year with honors didn't help.
Picking on her became a game to some. She became the best adversary in the muggle baiting competition. Quickly she learned to fight back, to the point her reflexes were that of a beater. By then I have seen enough original imaginative hexes from her hand."
Shifting again, then chuckles, "Yeah, I caught some right in the balls. Ever so often, Madam Pomfrey would need Master Flitwick assistance to undo the damage of the real malicious ones, without the numbing potion.
I overheard Mada Pomfey give some advice, in falsetto he mimicked the healer, 'Just to ensure there isn't a negative magical reaction dear.'
"There was a betting pool in Slytherin, in her favor.
Everyone saw the glint in Flint's eyes became disturbing during her fourth year. If the Idyllic Idiots and fiends taught her to fly instead of taunting her, Flint would have to spit actual fire. Then he would try to claim her for himself."
Caught off guard, Lianne's eyebrows raise, "That would have gone like a lead balloon ending with his head on a pike. I find it hard to believe none of this got back to her friends"
Scuffing, "Her scuffles never got back to the Twofold Twits or the herd. If it did they never believe she was capable. She was just the bookworm, instead of the thinker, risk-taker and gatherer of armies."