Disclaimer: Harry potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.
A/N: So sorry about the long wait.
Just a few minor things I thought I ought to mention. This story, which is Part One, is not meant to be taken seriously, only enjoyed. Of course you can take it seriously if you wish, but I just wanted to write something that was fun and enjoyable. Something you can read with a cup of tea in your lap, that sort of thing. Part two, however, which will be set later when Harry's in Hogwarts, will be much more serious. Definitely. For now, just sit back and relax.
Just one more thing. There is a hint of something, again, in this chapter. Nothing too major. T zone stuff. Enjoy!
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Chapter three: Gladrags
"What about his one Toni? Toni? Antoinette are you listening to me?"
"Hmm?" Antoinette focused on her mother, feeling a hotness sweep across her cheeks at the inquiring stare. She had completely ignored her mother again; that was the fourth time this morning. She would never get over the embarrassment. "I'm sorry Mama I was just thinking of . . . things."
Tatienne nodded, as though she understood what things Antoinette had been thinking about. In actual fact her mother probably wouldn't want to know what Antoinette had running around in her thoughts.
Lovemaking had been on her mind ever since she'd found out she would be marrying her betrothed a week ago. She didn't know why it was on her mind all the time. But it was getting rather embarrassing. The only thing she could think of was that she was extremely curious as to what the fuss was all about. The French after all, were a very passionate people that took lovemaking to the extreme. And there had been many a girl Antoinette had seen sneak back to their dormitory in the early hours of the morning, no doubt just arriving from a midnight tryst with a handsome boy. Beaubatons often played host to young lovers hiding behind embroidered tapestries or velvet curtains in the corridors. Antoinette knew, she had been a prefect, and she had seen it with her own eyes.
And now that she was to be a married woman, she would find out what all the fuss was about. She wasn't sure how the English standards in lovemaking added up to the French. She suddenly wished her new husband would be an experienced lover, then immediately blushed at the thought. Well, if her father was to be believed (even though she was sure he wasn't) Sirius Black was handsome, so even if he wasn't a good lover, she'd have something nice to focus on wouldn't she? She blushed again and put her hands to her burning cheeks. What was wrong with her lately?
"So what do you think of this one?" her mother asked her again. She was holding up a pure white satin cloth with fringes sticking out at the ends. Antoinette mentally screwed her face.
"I don't think so Mama. It is too . . . plain."
Tatienne sighed and would have rolled her eyes, but she knew it wasn't an attractive mannerism.
Antoinette perused her mother's face. She knew she wasn't being cooperative, and it was taking its toll on her mother. This was the third dress shop they had visited today, and Antoinette had yet to find the fabric that would be the basis for her wedding gown. They were all either too boring or shockingly gaudy that she hadn't had to even think twice before dismissing them. If only she could find the perfect fabric, somewhere in the middle.
"Toni you must choose a fabric soon so the dressmaker can pin it up and create the perfect gown," her mother said, reading her thoughts. "And you still need to choose fabrics for the rest of your wardrobe."
Antoinette's parents had decided that she needed a completely knew wardrobe in order to show the Black's that the Le Creux's were up on the wizard fashion plate. Translation: Show everyone that they had a lot of gold. Antoinette hadn't resisted. What was the point? she'd asked herself. It's not as if I won't be marrying him. Might as well make a good impression. So her mother had dragged her across different dress shops, first in Pointoise where they lived, then today in Paris.
Tatienne and Antoinette were currently standing in Gladrags. This was the last dressmaker shop in France, and if Antoinette didn't find anything here, she would have to go to a private dressmaker or another country to locate her fabric. And Antoinette had no particular desire to do that. But she still had hope. They had only been in the shop for half an hour after all and there was still plenty more to see. Besides, Gladrags was reputed to be the very best of the best dressmakers in Europe; they had three different branches after all, one in Paris, one in England, and another in Scotland.
"Madame! Madame! Look at this one!" Linear, Tatienne's and sometimes Antoinette's personal house elf, burst out of a row of rolled up multicoloured cloths and rushed to them, near tripping over her own feet in excitement. In her arms she held the most beautiful fabric Antoinette had ever seen.
"Oh Linear you darling!" her mother exclaimed taking the cloth up in her arms to finger it delicately. "You really are treasure. Where did you find this?"
Linear started talking excitedly and pointing to the row of not so attractive cloths at the back of the store.
"Well," said Tatienne with a smug expression. "Evidently someone had found this cloth beforehand and could not afford it at the time, then hid it among those atrocious fabrics so no one else could find it. I didn't even think to look in there. Linear sweet, you must be commended to the kitchens," her mother added and the little house elf burst into tears of joy. It was common knowledge that house elves loved to work. The harder the work, they happier they were.
"I think this one will do, won't it Toni?" Her mother stared anxiously at her, and Antoinette eased her mind. She had already decided to keep the cloth.
"Of course mother."
Tatienne looked relieved and handed the fabric over to her daughter.
Antoinette sighed with pleasure as she bought the material up to her cheek and rubbed against it like a cat. It was simply gorgeous. The tiny embroidered patterns on the ivory fabric were hand-stitched silkworm threads in a Celtic design, not visible from far away, but they still offered a luminescent, surreal shine. The fabric underneath was as cool and sensual as silk and jewels woven together. Antoinette imagined herself in the cloth and smiled. She would look like a fairy princess.
"Right, now all we have to do is decide on the style of the robe. Or would you prefer a gown?"
Antoinette thought. "Could I not have both?"
"It has never been done, but I suppose you could. Oui, you could start your own fashion. You will be expected to after all, being married to a Black."
Antoinette frowned. It was just like her mother to think that.
"Don't frown so, mes on font," her mother chastised her. "You will get lines."
"I'm sorry Mama."
"Now where is that seamstress? Aha, there she is. Come along petite, we must make your dress."
Antoinette followed her mother to the polished wooden counter where the elderly seamstress sat with a quill and a parchment correcting some measurements. The seamstress, Madame Bevard, was delighted that Antoinette had finally chosen a fabric and quickly ushered her to the back rooms and stood her on a small footstool.
"It will go brilliantly with her features, no?" Her mother announced to the seamstress. "Especially her eyes."
Antoinette had inherited just one thing from her mother; a pair beautiful sapphire blue eyes that tilted up at the corners. From her father she acquired her honey gold waves of hair. All in all it offered a striking combination that attracted most men to her like flies. Antoinette hoped her features would work to her advantage when meeting her fiancé. She hoped he would be attracted to her. Then half her worries would disappear.
Her mother had had the same problem with men when she was young. But instead of golden hair, hers was pure black, which made her eyes all the more noticeable. Now they were glowing with appreciation as she stared at her daughter.
Madame Bevard waved her wand and a tape measure erupted from it and immediately started measuring Antoinette from top to bottom while an enchanted quill worked out the calculations on the small table by her side.
When the tape measure had finished the Madame vanished it and took up the scroll with the measurements. She hmmed for a while and then lifted her wand.
Immediately the cloth around Antoinette started rearranging itself until it moulded to her body. Both her mother and Madame Bevard clasped their hands to their bosoms, with smiling eyes. Antoinette looked to the large gild-framed mirror beside her, and sighed in satisfaction.
The half gown half robe was beautiful; there was absolutely no question about it.
It was medieval in design but the sleeves were long hoops that fell to the ground and would no doubt trail after her train, which wasn't that long to begin with. The neckline fell just short of her shoulders and extended to a slight V across her chest. Her breasts, smaller than average to begin with, suddenly became far more pronounced with the plump globes outlined by the fabric — Antoinette spotted a small bit of cleavage peaking through. She hadn't known she could even have cleavage.
The dress even shone on its own, making it appear as though she were glowing. Add some pointed ears to the mix and she really would look like a fairy.
"It is perfecto mont, Mama. And merci to you as well Madame. It is wonderful."
She only hoped Sirius Black would like it.
"Your fiancé will fall at your feet!" exclaimed her mother, reading her mind again.
Antoinette only smiled. She knew that would be hoping for too much.
The truth was, Antoinette had this dreadful feeling her father had lied to her when he said Sirius Black was handsome. And now she kept picturing this skinny English fop with a pink shirt and a weak chin, falling over himself in his haste to impress her. Well, if that were true, she would never need to make do with laughs, as he would have plenty in store. At least her marriage wouldn't be boring.
Antoinette had discovered that she often had to make up optimistic excuses since she'd found out about her wedding.
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"It's choking me damn it!"
James Potter started sniggering. Sirius was standing on a stool facing a large mirror and tugging at the material around his neck with furious abandon, not seeming to care if he damaged it or not. James leaned over and fiddled with the uncooperative tie, finally securing it in place, then stood back to watch Sirius watch himself in the mirror.
Despite Sirius's complaints that he looked like a giant marshmallow that had seen one too many ironing boards, James thought Sirius couldn't be more wrong. He had always been the more attractive of the marauders at school. Not just attractive, but spectacularly handsome as well. And Sirius never pretended not to notice the female attentions he garnered all through Hogwarts and after. In fact, he basked in them and took advantage of them whenever he could. Which was why James had felt completely sorry for Sirius when he announced to the shocked group at the last Order of the Phoenix meeting that he would have to give up his bachelor lifestyle and get married to get the gold they so needed. And not just that, but he would have to marry some girl he had never met before. A girl that was probably exactly like his mother, since it was Sirius's mother who'd picked her out.
After that meeting the Maruaders had all gone back to the Potter's house and listened to Sirius rant and rave about the unfairness of his life and how he had to marry "some young chit barely out of the school room. Seventeen? Seventeen I ask you!" Then he'd gone to get James's secret stash of Firewhiskey that he'd hidden from Lily from under the couch, and proceeded to get grogged out of his mind.
James had gotten in trouble then, because of the Firewhiskey, but Lily hadn't done anything because she'd been too worried about Sirius to care very much. In fact, Lily and James had both thought that after that disastrous dinner at Godric's Hollow, Sirius would be more inclined to listen to them and just get on with his life as best he could.
More fools they.
"I look ugly!" Sirius exclaimed, drawing James from his thoughts. James rolled his eyes because Sirius, in a moment of personality reversal, was acting sorry for himself.
"On second thought, it's good that I look ugly. Then she won't come anywhere near me."
James grinned cheekily. "You can't look ugly if your life depended on it, Padfoot."
Sirius looked disgruntled at that. "Do you think I should shave my hair off?" he asked, fiddling with the moderately short, smoothed-back strands on his head."
James snorted. "Not unless you want to look like your late grandfather."
Sirius immediately stopped fiddling with his hair, and turned to James with a disgusted look. "You just had to say that, didn't you?"
James shrugged his broad shoulders. "Well you were feeling sorry for yourself. I couldn't have that."
Sirius muttered something unintelligible and turned back to the mirror. The two-set robe he wore was pure ivory silk. The under-wrap reached to the ground and flared against his legs like a curled up leaf. The overlapping robe had sleeves just passed his wrist and the bottom half reached to his knees. It came together with a row of pearl clasps on the front, making it look more like a stylish muggle coat than a wizard's robe. A deliberation of Sirius's no doubt, just so he can annoy his mother. It also came with shoulder pads, but Sirius had had to take them off because his shoulders were already broad enough. The robe was a very stiff, masculine sort of silk that suited Sirius perfectly and dramatically emphasised his bronzed skin and black hair.
"I bet she's ugly," he stated out of the blue.
James blinked, and tilted his head slightly. "What?"
"My new bride." Sirius drawled. "I bet she's ugly and that's why they're marrying her off so young. Probably can't stand to look at her face."
"Padfoot, you're just making up excuses."
"Well if she isn't ugly, you can be certain she's just like my mother. My dear Mummy has already informed me, with great pleasure might I add, that Miss Le Creux comes from the purest stock available in France."
James already knew that as Sirius had told him so more than once before. "So?"
"So?" Sirius clenched his fists. "So it means that she's a muggle-hating Death Eater worshipper that probably avada kedavra's small animals for pleasure. Just like my cousin Bellatrix."
James frowned, eyeing his best friend dubiously. He hadn't heard that before. "Don't you think you're making assumptions, Padfoot? You don't really know how she's going to be like until you meet her."
Sirius snorted. "Oh I know alright. My mother told me that her family is just like ours. Hates muggles and everything, and that's why she chose them in particular, because she knew it would get to me."
"Your mother hates you, Padfoot, are you really that surprised?" James asked and Sirius shook his head. "So are you going to purchase that or what?"
His best friend sighed and looked at himself in the mirror one last time. "I guess it's as good as any." He looked over at James. "Are you going to buy yours?"
"I have to, don't I? Or Lily would skin me. She's already dragged me around to buy Harry's robes. She doesn't need to do the same again."
Sirius grunted and got off the stool. "Buying a one-year-old kid a best man outfit? What were you thinking, James?"
"It's not my fault. Lily thought it looked cute." James frowned as Sirius started snickering. "Well I'm glad you think it's amusing. Just wait until you have a kid, then see how you feel."
That sobered Sirius up. The prospect of having a kid, and the fact that he would have to have it with her because he now had little choice in the matterdisgusted and angered him. "That was a bit below the belt Prongs," Sirius said softly.
James, looking a bit sheepish, muttered a hasty apology.
A LITTLE WHILE later, with their purchases shrunk and pocketed, they walked out of Gladrags Dress Wear and headed to the Leaky Cauldron for a pint. They certainly made a striking pair as they pushed through Diagon Alley. They could have been brothers. In fact they were often inclined to say that they were brothers in everything but blood because they teased each other like brothers and loved each other like brothers. They also had similar features. Both were tall with broad shoulders and black hair. James's looking permanently windswept, and Sirius's brushed elegantly back away from his face. They were both purebloods, both worked for Dumbledore as members of the Order of the Phoenix, and as everyone who saw them could attest, they were both highly attractive men.
They entered the Leaky Cauldron, which was brimming as usual. They spotted an empty table next to a hag, and were about to walk over to it when Tom, the pub's owner, waved at them. Exchanging resigned looks they walked over to the bar.
Tom smiled toothily at them. "Hello boys. Can I interest you in a drink? Or perhaps some food?"
James nodded, his glasses glinting in the candlelight. "I'll have some of that apple-brew I heard is so good."
"I haven't managed to unpack it yet. It's still in the crates. Don't suppose you can help me?"
"Do you really have to ask, Tom?" James responded, and they followed Tom behind the bar and into the small kitchen.
"Dumbledore really needs to think up a new code. That one is getting far too repetitive. Regulars will start getting suspicious, especially as there is no apple-brew." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wooden counter behind him looking irritated.
"Well it's not like I haven't asked him to. I think he forgets purposefully." Tom said, eyeing Sirius critically. "And what's got you in a mood?"
James grinned, not resisting the importuning to rib his best friend a little. "His upcoming marriage of course."
Sirius released an unattractive snarl, while Tom just chuckled. "That still holdin' you by the nose? You could easily get an annulment later on, Sirius."
Sirius scowled darkly. "Yes, but not for another three years. And by that time I'll probably go mental. Besides, an annulment isn't like muggle divorce. I'll always have a connection with her. And I still won't be able to marry who I want; because I'll be bound to her until death do us part."
Tom offered him a sympathetic look.
James let out a breath. "Well I'm sure you didn't call us over to discuss Sirius's impending doom," he prompted.
"Well actually that is why." Sirius and James looked confused. "Well, part of the reason why," Tom continued, then glanced quickly up at Sirius before rushing the next part of his statement. "Dumbledore tells to say that you have to take your new bride on a holiday once you get married."
All Sirius could do was stare in disbelief before: "WHAT!" he exploded.
"Shhhh!" James and Tom said together, looking towards the door nervously and motioning with their hands.
Sirius took several controlled breaths through his nose before speaking. "What is the point of taking her on a honeymoon?"
James frowned. "Yes, what is the point?"
Tom, looking annoyed, started fiddling with the dishrag around his neck. "Don't get all snarly at me, I'm just the messenger."
Sirius snorted. "The messenger, no doubt, because Dumbledore is too much of an old so and so to ask me himself so he gets you to do it for him."
"No doubt," Tom agreed. "He says you have to do it as to uphold the image of, well, love I suppose."
Sirius sputtered, looking disgusted. "I am not . . . what . . . how could he . . ?" He took a deep breath. "I will not, nor will I ever have any ounce of feeling for that muggle-hater, let alone love her."
"Dumbledore knows that. You only have to pretend, you see."
"Explain."
"It's so Death Eaters don't get suspicious. You'll bring attention to yourself if they even have inkling that you hate your bride. They'll wonder why you've gotten married. They'll start asking questions. Do you see where I'm going with this?"
"In other words you're saying that if Voldemort finds out I'm funding the Order, I'll be his next target?" Sirius looked unimpressed. "Well, it's not as if I'm not a target already. What with denouncing my parents and joining Dumbledore and all that!" he snapped, his temper coming, again, to the fray.
"Yes but that's just regular stuff everyone knows about. This is something that could lead –"
"Alright, alright!" Sirius inhaled a bit of air to unclog the tightness in his throat. "What was the other thing Dumbledore wanted you to pass on?"
Tom sighed, obviously relieved that the danger was over and that he didn't have to tread on soft ground anymore. "Just to be careful and on the look out for anything suspicious."
"That won't be a problem." James said, his brow still creased from their earlier conversation. "We do that all the time anyway."
Sirius responded with a grunt. "Is that all?" he asked.
Tom looked a bit fearful, to which Sirius narrowed his eyes. "No," he admitted, slowly. "Dumbledore also gave the suggestion, just a suggestion mind you, that you could be seen around your fiancé a little before your marriage as well, so as to give the impression that you, well . . ." he trailed off on the look on Sirius's face.
"Right." Sirius said tightly.
"You don't have to," Tom reminded him.
"We both know that when Dumbledore suggests something, there is no 'I don't have to' about it."
"Right you are." Tom said, and glanced sorrowfully at him.
This made Sirius even angrier. He hated being pitied.
James, sensing his best friend's mood, quickly offered an out.
"We should go now anyway, Tom." He motioned towards Sirius with a slight jerk of his head. Tom, comprehending, nodded.
"Well I've got to head back to the bar anyway. Drinks don't sell themselves you know."
The two, with Sirius fuming behind them, walked out of the kitchen and back into the public.
"Thanks for the apple-brew Tom. Best thing I ever tasted since Butterbeer." James glanced at Sirius whose expression remained stoned. "No doubt Sirius thinks so to," he added and elbowed his best friend in the ribs.
"Ow! All right . . . ! Butterbeer doesn't come close, Tom," he coughed out.
"Be seeing you then!" James said, cringing at the badly scripted code, before grabbing Sirius's arm and tugging him over to the fireplace.
"We're going to my place," James told him, before disappearing in a burst of green flames.
Sirius followed, resigning himself to another night of drunkenness.
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A/N: Next chapter will be longer, I promise, and it will come out really soon. Like a couple of days soon, because I've almost finished it. I just wanted to get this one out beforehand. Finally!
Also J.K. said, in an interview I think it was, that James didn't have a job because he had enough money to live comfortably. As you no doubt noticed, I didn't give him one.
Also, if you haven't worked it out yet, Sirius has no idea that his mother betrothed him when he was a little boy. I figure that she would have told him when he turned of age, which is 17, but he left the house before then. And Sirius asking for gold for the Order gave her the perfect excuse to utilize that betrothal.
Thank you to all who reviewed, and, if it isn't too much trouble, could you review again please? Of course I'll accept even more from other people . . . hint hint.
Happy Reading!