A thousand apologies for anyone still reading this story. I have been taking a few creative writing courses for improvements, and that has left me little time to caress the keyboard. I have returned, and undaunted by punctuation, criticism, unpopularity, or finger cramps I will venture onwards. Readers are welcome, reviewers are adored, and critics are offered tea and scones. I am perfectly open to any persons opinions of anything...except what butterflies dream. That I believe, is a very private matter between butterflies.
A mother's arms are made of tenderness, and children sleep soundly
in them.--Les Miserables.
Chapter 52
Amele discovered, at length, what she considered to be the perfect girl for Amanda, and informally brought her along for introduction. Her name was Patsy, and she was Irish. She was perhaps just five feet tall, with long, dark braids on either side of her head. Her button nose was covered with delicate freckles, and she had a manner of leaning forward to speak, with both eyebrows raised earnestly over her laughing,green eyes.
She seemed to be the sort of girl who had never had a sorrowful moment in her young life, so Amanda was greatly surprised to learn that she had been orphaned at the age of ten, and raised afterwards by her great-grandmother. Patsy was neither ashamed nor seeking sympathy when she revealed that she had been much too poor to afford wands or magical schooling, and had gone to work instead as a nanny at the age of fifteen. She took care of her grandmother until the elderly woman's death, ( when Patsy was sixteen) then began paying for tutoring out of her earnings.
Despite herself, Amanda liked Patsy, and Edward too agreed that she was pleasant enough. She had no family of her own, but a good deal of experience with children. She was also very good at folding charms, polishing charms, and the ever important charm that could set dirty dishes to washing themselves in the kitchen sink. She was hired that night, and given Polly's quarters to do with as she pleased.
Patsy moved her belongings in the very next day, and Edward breathed a great sigh of relief. He was surprised that Amanda had accepted someone so soon. After her reluctance at the thought of having help, he had imagined lines and lines of rejected women leaving his house in droves. But Amanda had surprised him once more. Patsy had won her generous heart in a short amount of time.
They soon learned that Patsy was just as talkative as Amele, and she charged no extra fee for the prattle. If she had no audience, she would chatter to herself, or sing, or just work her mouth as she held discussions in her head. It was not uncommon to find her talking to lamps, addressing curtains, and reprimanding the stove. In a person of less sweetness, that quality might have made her seem insane.
Edward immediately set her to work, with strict orders not to allow Amanda to do anything other than care for Charlotte, eat well, and rest for as long as possible. That was not as long as he had hoped. Amanda was soon on her feet again, so to speak, but she had lost her will to argue about the amount of magic employed to do even the simplest of household tasks.
After all, the less time it took to finish the day's work, the more time she had to spend with Charlotte. And she loved nothing more than to be with Charlotte, even if it was only to lie beside her for hours and watch her small chest rise and fall with her tiny breaths.
And then, there was a certain amount of time to be allotted to Stella, as well. Stella, having accepted with grace the fact that she was a grandmother, had decided that Charlotte needed to be shown to every witch and wizard in England, especially the ones with grandchildren of their own, so that they could compare and praise until the next blue moon.
Amanda found that even simple shopping excursions, meant only to buy new dresses or toys for the baby, would end with her mother and some other lady discussing the charms and merits of their grand-offspring over a rack of clothing, while they occasionally stopped to make cooing noises or ask Lottie a question.
That year Christmas was more extravagant. The table groaned under the weight of pastries and fowls cooked to perfection by Amanda and Patsy. Cheeses, olives, candies and wine were abundant, the fragrant tree sagged with ornaments and burst with presents.
Not only did Edward and Amanda, ( knowing each other better than ever) purchase extravagantly for themselves, but they had sincerely over-purchased for their young daughter, who, despite her parents trouble was much more interested in watching the candles flicker over the mantel or the floating glass snow globes hovering near the ceiling than in any boxes, boys or plush toys.
She clutched instead her toy wand, and amused herself with rattling it while her parents opened gifts for her.
" There...see how she is holding her wand? I told you she will be the worlds next charms mistress." Edward exclaimed.
" Perhaps she will be a concert pianist." Amanda countered. " Just look how long her fingers will be. Not like mine...I have to struggle so to reach the keys.'
" But you struggle with such grace." he soothed.
Charlotte seemed to enjoy hearing the piano being played, as much as Amanda enjoyed playing it. When she was colicky and couldn't sleep the soft sound of Brahms and the vibration of the strings was the only thing that could soothe her. Amanda would settle the baby in a basket by her feet and play soft lilting pieces and Lottie would lie perfectly still and listen, her long lashed eyes slowly blinking until she fell deeply asleep. On Sundays, Edward would build the largest fire in the parlor, so that Lottie would not succumb to the fearful phantom diseases brought about by draft; and Amanda would play for them both.During these times, he took great enjoyment in holding Charlotte and bouncing her in time to the music.
Since Patsy, unlike Polly, had no family to visit on Sundays, she began more and more to be included in some of the family's daily events. She made it her own politic decision, however, to not impose and spent most every Sunday pursuing her second dearest hobby...shopping.
She had a one of the gifts of society with which Amanda had not been blessed--the love of shopping. With it came a sense of style that was never outdated. Patsy knew every trend, every fashion, every in vogue shop in the world. She knew the good measure of one leather over another, of-muslin over wool, cashmere against velvet.This designer over that--in both Muggle and Wizarding fashions. She was utter proof that the intuition for finery was not a trait of good breeding so much as it was simply an inherent gene in some humans.
Amanda's method was to choose what pleased her eye, her lifestyle, and her pocketbook, while praying that it didn't clash with her hair or turn her skin sallow.
The other remarkable thing about Patsy was that though she went shopping nearly four times week, she rarely ever bought anything! She actually enjoyed simply spending agonizingly long hours poring over articles of clothing, shoes, accessories, and handbags--all for nothing more than the satisfaction of seeing and smelling new , unworn fabrics. It was, to Amanda, simply amazing. The few purchases she did bring home were always books, which she shrunk to the size of matchboxes to fit in her bag. There were never fewer than ten, as reading voraciously was her main, and dearest hobby.
As winter dragged on, harsh and cold, Amanda welcomed Patsy's company more and more. In the afternoons, just before Edward was to come home and while Charlotte was at her nap, the two women would settle in the kitchen, where Patsy was most comfortable. Amanda used this time exclusively for sewing, and while she sewed they either talked, in which case Patsy would tat, ( a remarkable talent in Amanda's opinion, as Patsy handled the shuttle without magic, coiling the thread knotlessly into frothy circles and picots with great ease.) or Patsy would pull out a book and read aloud. Their literary choices for these sessions were generally short, serial Wizarding mysteries penned by an author known only as "Theophrastus".
Winter dragged even further on, and Charlotte grew rounder and longer. Her hair grew. She began to roll and to raise up. She smiled at Amanda and reached for Edward.
------
During the Christmas holiday, Amele had visited Diagon Alley, accompanied by Jules, who was home from Hogwarts. ( and was keeping on her the bright eager eye of youth to see what secret purchases she might make for the holiday.)Amele never failed to enter the wand-shop if shew as nearby, and that day was no exception. While there, Jules tirelessly regaled everyone with first and second hand accounts of Harry Potter, which once more re-awakened the gossip about the Boy-Who-Lived. Jules told them that he saw Potter every day, but because Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor house, and Jules into Ravenclaw, they had not had the chance to speak. However, he informed Edward breathlessly one day, everyone went to watch Harry Potter play Quidditch. He was, Jules explained excitedly, the youngest Seeker in years.
Amanda listened politely and not without interest, even though she was at a loss as to what the child meant at times. Edward, however, seemed fascinated and perhaps a trifle jealous, saying that in his day at Hogwarts, rules were much stricter...and wouldn't be bent not even by a legend. Even so, he had Jules explain to him in detail how well Potter had flown, how easily he had caught the snitch, and what sort of performance did his broom seem to offer?
When Jules had finished and turned to this mother, bright eyed and rosy cheeked, begging her for a broom of his own, Edward had helped him persuade her. Amele wanted to balk with all of her motherly instincts, but gave in after only a small amount of cajoling.
" What can I do?" she asked the air above her. " Boys will be boys. Hah. But your father, he is going to kill me."
They left, with Amele adamantly refusing to buy a broom for each boy. As they disappeared down the street, Amanda and Edward heard the sound of Franchot's piping voice asking; " Is it because Jules is eleven? Can I have a broom when I am eleven? My own broom? Will it be Nimbus? Do I have to let Renee play on it too? Will you remember exactly when I am eleven? Promise?)
In the silence that followed, Amanda asked Edward questions about Hogwarts and Quidditch, which he answered with commendable patience. The next day, he purchased for her a volume of "Hogwart's, A History", which she read through thoroughly. With the possibility of her own children attending in the future, she wanted to be as knowledgeable as possible on the subject.
" Is it really safe?" she asked, after finishing the volume. They were seated on the library sofa and Lottie was napping in her basket in the corner.
" Of course! Well...relatively safe. Safe as anywhere I suppose." he loosened his collar under her scrutiny. " Personally I never knew of anyone to come to irreparable harm from the school itself."
" Well, I suppose that is comforting, provided I don't think too closely on it. " she commented. " And these houses...very interesting. Which were you in?"
" Do you not suspect?" he asked, raising a brow.
" Well, I would hazard a guess...but the rivalry between the houses seems to be so that an incorrect guess might serve me ill."
" I see...taking the political approach, eh?"
She granted him a demure nod.
" It's not that I am not curious...I am just ignorant on some accounts." she granted.
He leaned across and whispered in her ear.
" Slytherin."
Her eyes widened for a moment, and gooseflesh raised along her arms.
" Oh..." she said.
" Does that bother you?"
" Why should it? I didn't even know what it was, precisely, until just this morning!" she laughed.
" Well there are some who believe that it is a bad thing, and that nothing good can come of that house."
" Bah!" she scoffed. " That's rubbish. It's only a school ceremony. What is it really, but a club?"
" That is a way of looking at it, yes."
" Well then. It's just something to be proud of, isn't it? Has there never been a bad person from another house?"
" Some of them might try to indicate something to that extent." he said. " But they have had their villains as well. "
" It isn't dangerous is it? I mean, they do place rules on the students so that competition doesn't escalate out of control?"
" I don't know for certain what it is like now. When I was in school any sort of dangerous misbehavior was strictly punished. They couldn't afford not to monitor that much magic in so many unskilled hands."
Amanda studied the cover of the book in thoughtful silence for a moment.
" You have a question?" he asked.
" Oh...I was just wondering. It suggests that only a Pureblood can be sorted into Slytherin. Does that mean Lottie could never...?"
" The secret to sorting is that you are placed exactly where you belong. And where you belong is where you want to be...that is how it is decided. I would think that if Lottie wanted to be in Slytherin, then she would be sorted there without question. I...think she might do better than that, however."
" Why were you sorted there? ' she asked, leaning against his shoulder.
" Because my father was...and his fathers before him, and most of the mothers as well, I believe. A family tradition that I was loathe to break."
" Do you want it to be unbroken now?"
" It doesn't matter to me anymore, in fact I can't imagine why it did in the first place. Besides...Elias went there as well. Though I believe he was well placed for his disposition."
Edward rarely spoke of Elias. When he did, the comments were neither very derogatory, nor very flattering. He simply spoke of him as he would a distant relation with severe differences in disposition and beliefs. It was one of Amanda's few regrets that she did not better know her stepson...but it was obvious that it made Edward uncomfortable to speak of him, and it was even more obvious through Elias' behavior that he himself had no desire to become better acquainted.
They had dutifully sent him the announcement of Charlotte's birth, but it had remained unanswered. They had learned from Eloise later, who had it from Xenophilius Lovegood, that Elias was engaged. They had received no word of it themselves. The engagement was announced publicly, and Elias was simply ' The son of Dinah Blackmoor, of Vincente Blackmoor's house. Nephew of Rebecca Blackmoor, and Mordecai Blackmoor. " which was quite uncalled for. The woman in question was Valia Penniworth, the daughter, Eloise informed them, of Thornton Penniworth the Ministry official, and Ruselle Umbridge-Penniworth, making her a second cousin to Adelfried Umbridge, and a first cousin to Gladys Whetstone, the artist, whose mother was a Penniworth.
That was very confusing, but it grew even more confusing when Eloise unrolled a great scroll of the Wizarding family trees, and began explaining detailed lineage. Unlike the scroll detailing just the Rookwood tree, this one had all of the families of Wizarding England. The printing was microscopic, but charmed to enlarge itself when a finger was brushed over it.
" This is one of the few family trees that has not been altered to exclude Muggles. " she said. " They are written in green ink, and the wizards in black...but only to keep the lines straight. See...this is where the Penniworths are related to the Umbridges. And here is where they are both related to the Weasleys, not that they would like that publicly known. Here the line connects to the Malfoys and Blacks, Ollivanders and the Rookwoods here...and the Blackmoors. So Valia would be, let me see..." she began mumbling ot herself. " Henrietta to Phoebus and here to Jacobi...Echo to Christoban...to Septimus...Imara Blackmoor or Imara Malfoy? Oh..here...and straight to Thornton...to Valia--she is actually Elias' third cousin twice removed."
" Are you sure?" Amanda asked, losing track easily in the tiny text and coats of arms.
"Positive. You can see for yourself. You've done well...did you know that you are the first Rookwood to marry an Ollivander since 1307?"
Eloise indicated a particular branch.
" You mean I wasn't the first. "
" Oh you would have had to search further than that to find a family we had not married into at sometime during history. Look, Anne Rookwood to Decimus Ollivander 1307. They had eight children... this one, Meryn...she was our direct ancestor. But then so was her niece, Thora."
" Why didn't you show me this before?" Amanda asked. " This is quite remarkable."
" You've seen the family tree."
" Yes, but I didn't know any of the names, except ours."
" It must have slipped my mind. You see that you have been added here, as has Charlotte? "
" I see...and here is a Rookwood married to a Weasley!"
" Yes...Odelphia Weasley...and Perseus Rookwood. And Perseus' mother was a Longbottom. Odelphia's is a Lovegood. You see all the families were so dreadfully intermarried, that is why the marriage law eventually came about. At first the wealthier families only married among themselves. Malfoys and Blacks never stooped to Rookwoods and Ollivanders. We never stooped to Weasley's and Lovegoods. But over the centuries it was simply purity and power, over wealth and status, and for awhile, marrying into the fresher bloodlines revived the magic. But then, as you know, it began to weaken again. Now you can see why."
" Is that why Dinah married Edward? I see her that her family was ranked higher in status, and it seems as though they married almost exclusively with just these nine families. "
" Hmm...I believe on Dinah knows why Dinah did what she did. I don't think she was interested in keeping her blood alive. My opinion is that she knew very little about Edward, except that he portrayed himself to much more of a gentleman than he could afford to truly be...at that time. Vincente Blackmoor was a misogynist disciplinarian, and she no doubt wanted to rebel against him...revenge perhaps. I suppose it worked. She was disinherited, and never quite regained her position on the social ladder...even after Rebecca became head of Blackmoor."
" And what about Elias?"
" No one knows much about Elias."
Weeks later, as she sat holding ''Hogwarts, a History'', she did not even know if Elias had married Valia Penniworth. However, she at least knew that he too had been in Slytherin house, like his father.
" Well...are there really ghosts in the school?" she asked changing the subject slightly.
" Of course." Edward answered.
She appeared slightly skeptical.
" I'm not too certain that I believe that." she said.
He shrugged dismissively, then sat jerked a little as an idea occurred to him.
" Would you like to see a ghost, Amanda?"
She regarded him closely. Was he being serious?
He was.
Did she want to see a ghost?
She did not!
" No! Why would I want to do that!?' she exclaimed.
" To prove to yourself that they are real." he placed his arm about her shoulder.
" I've lived this long in doubt...there is no reason to alter it." she assured him.
" You might be surprised. Ghosts are not really as bad as they have been portrayed. They can be funny, noble, even helpful.."
" No, really, it's quite all right."
" Such protestation leads me to think you believe in them more than you will admit."
She fidgeted.
" I didn't believe in magic once, and it was proven to me."
" Then ghosts could be proven as well."
" That's what I am afraid of. I would rather doubt their existence. Next, you'll be telling me werewolves and vampires are real as well."
He gave her a mournful look.
" What is it? Oh..don't tell me!"
" Werewolves and Vampires do exist." he said.
She glanced nervously at the baby in the basket, and lowered her voice to say;
" Don't you think it might give Lottie nightmares if we talk of such things?"
" Lottie? No. Amanda?...perhaps."
She could she that he was in one of his teasing moods, and like Eloise, he could be infuriating when he took it upon himself to try.
" I haven't had nightmares since I was a little girl." she huffed.
" That's because you began to believe that those monsters you imagined, and your parents degraded, were just figments of your precious, childhood imagination, and had no place in your current state of blossoming womanhood, where they would take the place of your poems and flowers, and daydreams of love."
" And as I said, I would prefer to continue believing thus."
" Well, you can do as you please." he said, sitting back. " Charlotte however will know all about such things, because they teach about them in school."
" About werewolves?" she asked, dryly.
" About everything. She won't be afraid of anything, because she will understand it."
" I'm not afraid!" Amanda stated.
" Oh...of course not!"
She began to feel she was approaching that horrible place in a conversation, where it forked off into several possibilities. In either direction, her pride was in danger of being scuffed. She could insist on not being a coward, and be unproven, or she could face a ghost, and then have to admit it existed. She toyed with with each outcome, wondering how important it was, constantly aware that he was watching her...waiting.
She sighed.
" All right then...let me see a ghost. But don't say that you told me so, because that would be unfair since I hadn't the luxury of being raised with them."
His eyes gave a triumphant flicker.
" Stella should have packed one along to America."
" That might have caused a lot of trouble."
" Oh, I don't know...I assure you, ghosts are very refined."
" Do they all live in Hogwarts? Or do you know of another?"
" Many others! We'll pay a visit to Giles."
" To Giles? Don't try to convince me that Giles is a ghost!"
" Don't be absurd. Of course Giles isn't a ghost. Did I not say that ghosts are refined? He does happen to share his house with one, however."
" Who was the ghost before he died?"
" I cannot recall just at this moment. A sort of barrister, I believe. "
" A refined, spectral barrister." Amanda said with assumed awe. " How terrifying."
" Yes. The worst part is that he refuses to play chess. He is strictly a backgammon sort of person, which is very tedious for Giles."
" Yes, I see where it must be. And why hasn't Mr. Barkwater been around to visit us of late? That game has been laid out for months!"
" Oh..." Edward seemed suddenly taken off guard. " He has had some personal business of a sort that has demanded much of his time. "
" Nothing serious, I hope?"
" He says that it isn't, but he behaves as though it is. It's very peculiar for him." Edward frowned.
" Perhaps you should talk with him."
" Yes...perhaps I should." he said thoughtfully. Then, " At any length, I will show you a ghost."
" Just one thing..." she said, taking his arm.
" And what is that?"
" If there is really a ghost...don't...let it jump out at me, please?"
" I would insist that he not do anything so uncivilized."