Chapter 12
"Do you want to explain to me why we haven't gone back to my townhouse?" Macbeth asked as he sat down next to Demona.
After leaving Hogwarts, the two had apparated first to Edinburgh, before apparateing back to London, though not the townhouse. They did this to through off any potential pursuit. And after waiting half an hour in the alleyway to be sure there was no pursuit, instead of heading back to the townhouse, Demona had led Macbeth to a nearby bar, choosing a seat at a table in the back corner.
"Two reasons," the gargoyle in human form explained. "The first is that after dealing with Dumbledore and Snape, I need a drink." She didn't explain any further as a server came over and asked them what they'd like to drink.
After ordering, both asked for a single malt scotch, and the server had left, Macbeth asked, "What's the second reason?"
At his question, Demona grinned. "The night is still young, and unless I've misread their interactions thus far, Constance will probably begin courting Harry tonight."
Macbeth looked at the redhead for a moment, before he started chuckling. "I never thought I'd see you playing matchmaker Demona."
At this point the server returned with their drinks. Once she left Demona picked up her glass and said, "It's not matchmaking, it's staying out of the way of a female I approve of being with my son."
"And if you didn't approve?" Macbeth asked.
Demona grinned. "Tell me Macbeth, have ever heard of the term, Monster-In-Law?"
Taking a sip of his scotch, the former king said, "Yes."
With a grin Demona said, "I give the term all new meaning." She took a sip of her own scotch and added, "Just ask Broadway."
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After a lengthy conversation on differences between human and gargoyle cultures, specifically what Demona had explained to him and interspersed with comments she made about things she thought the elder female hadn't fully explained or thought relevant, Constance was pleased with how the evening was going so far.
When she made comments, Harry listened intently. Every now and then he'd ask a question about what she was explaining that revealed she had herself taken certain knowledge for granted. It was an engaging and pleasant conversation, even if it wasn't what she'd chose to talk about while trying to court the male.
The best part was that she caught Harry's eyes drifting down to her chest every now and then. It wasn't rude, blatant staring, she didn't get that since they climbed into the pool, but it showed he was definitely interested in her physically at least.
Feeling a bit bold, she asked, "Harry, has your mother explained the rules around touching another's wings?"
"She just said I shouldn't touch another's wings unless it was an emergency."
"That is typically the truth," she explained. "Our wings are...well, they're our life. The worst thing that can happen to a gargoyle is to be grounded. For that reason our wings are important to us. In fact, while I myself have never seen it, I have heard of gargoyles who have permanently lost their wings, or the use of them, committing suicide rather than living without the ability to glide."
"I think I understand," the male commented. "Our wings are incredibly important to us."
"Yes. And it is ingrained into our instincts to protect them. That's one reason why, unless we are trying to intimidate others or there isn't room, we tend to keep our wings straight back, rather than flat against our back, when fighting. Coming up and touching someone's wings without their knowledge is typically seen as a threat, and we react instinctively to this threat. And even if someone knows you're there, touching them without invitation is frowned upon, unless you are a mated pair. It would be like...like a human male kissing a female he didn't know." She frowned. "That's not an accurate representation," she explained after a moment. "But it is the closest analogy I can think of."
Harry frowned in thought, before he said, "I think I understand. Touching someone's wings without invitation is an intimate gesture, but not as intimate as things a couple would do alone."
"Exactly," Constance said with a grin. "Though it's not just because of how important our wings are to us that it's an intimate gesture. As I'm sure you're familiar with, our wings are sensitive, despite how tough they are."
"I've noticed," the male acknowledged. "Mother explained it was so that we could more easily detect the changes in the air and wind as we glide."
"That's true, what she didn't explain was that that same sensitivity to wind and air makes our wings more sensitive to touch as well, the inner wing more so than the outer, along with the skin and muscle around our wing joints. The area between our wings is especially sensitive, but I digress. What I'm saying is that, on top of how important our wings are for survival, in terms of gliding, they are also important in mating."
"Okay," Harry said slowly, causing Constance to grin. She suspected he had an idea as to where she was going.
Still she continued her explanation, even if now would be a perfect time to initiate things. Harry needed the knowledge, even if it wouldn't all be relevant to now. "Typically, one will give permission for their wings to be touched only under a few circumstances. "The first, and the only one explicit verbal permission isn't required, is for survival and medical treatment. It doesn't happen often, but occasionally a wing will be grabbed to pull someone out of danger. I did that once to Staghart. We were leaving Into the Mystic and walking down to an alleyway since the building next to our roof access was being worked on and some early morning repair men were already on site. He was talking and didn't notice the car about to run a light, his wing was the first thing I grabbed, since I didn't see it underneath his cloak."
Harry grinned. "You didn't let him live it down that he'd almost been hit by a car, did you?"
She chuckled. "No. After smacking the back of his head, and lecturing him on paying attention, I brought it up every time we went near a road." She shook her head, "Anyway, another time one may permit their wings to be touched by someone other than a mate are occasional cleaning, since we can't reach all of our wings to clean. But since Stone Sleep cleans us, that really only happens when something happens before our sleep, like getting pushed into mud for example. The last, and perhaps most important reason one may let their wings be touched, is courting."
"Courting?" Harry questioned. And looking at him, Constance could see some nervousness in his eyes.
"Yes, courting." Somewhat hesitantly, she asked, "What has your mother explained about that?"
"Nothing." he admitted.
"There are typically four parts to courting," she explained, moving from the side of the tub, approaching Harry carefully. "The first is attraction. Before officially courting, gargoyles find themselves attracted to another gargoyle, or even multiple gargoyles. What attracts them varies from gargoyle to gargoyle. The gargoyle in question will typically then try to ascertain whether any of the gargoyles they are attracted to are attracted to them as well. The second part is for one of the gargoyles to approach the other, and establish that they are indeed attracted to another, the one doing the approaching then ask if the other would like to officially court. Should the other gargoyle accept, the third phase, the actual courting begins. The length this takes varies from couple to couple, but during this time the couple has permission from each other to act as though they are mates, to touch wings, rub brows, perch alongside one another, that kind of thing. They use this time to determine that not only are they attracted to one another, but they are compatible. It is essentially the same as human's dating before marriage. Should one or both of the couple decide they are not compatible, they simply need to tell the other, and all previous permission is rescinded, and the two go back to being single. But, should the couple be happy, eventually they will decide to mate with one another."
She paused here for a moment, before taking a breath and explaining. "Gargoyles do not mate casually as humans do. Once we mate, the bond is typically for life unless irreconcilable differences pop up. There are typically three ways to go about mating, and letting other's know of it. One way is a commitment ceremony, performed in front of the clan. It's not necessary, but some couples want to declare their bond. The second is a simple announcement, made to the Clan Leader or Clan Second. And The third is simply to allow the clan to find out from our scent, which I believe I've already explained."
"You have," Harry gulped, watching as Constance slowly approached him.
"So now that that's out of the way, I have to ask you something Harry."
"You do?"
"Yes," she said, stopping just in front of him. "I'm attracted to you Harry. And I think you're attracted to me."
"I am," he confirmed, finding his eyes locked with her own dark brown eyes.
"So Harry, I want to ask if you would agree to the two of us courting?" Constance asked, her voice betraying none of her nervousness.
"You understand that I will likely mess things up, and need things explained to me?" he asked.
She smiled slightly, "I do."
"Then yes, I agree."
Smiling, she pressed her forehead against his brow-ridge gently, the gargoyle version of a kiss. She may not have a brow ridge herself, but that part of her head was still sensitive.
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Harry didn't know what to expect when Constance pressed her forehead against his brow-ridge, but the tingly plesant sensations it caused felt good.
"This feels good," he said after a moment.
Constance chuckled. "This is how we gargoyles kiss," she explained softly, before pulling back to look at Harry. "You know, I wasn't actually planning to ask you to court me tonight. My plan was just to gauge your reactions to me, to see if you were attracted."
"Then why did you ask?"
"As we talked, I figured you were attracted. And as I explained about our wings, my original plan was simply to let you wash them...but, it seemed like the perect time to ask."
"I'm glad you did," he said, before surprising her, and pressing his lips to her own.
It was only a peck, granted a slow peck, but Harry felt similar sensations to what he had when thier brows touched.
Smiling lightly at him, Constance said, "So am I." Leaning back, she asked, "So how would you like to wash my wings?"
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Sorry for the wait. It's been a busy week, and I thought I posted last week, not two weeks ago...just, sorry.
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