For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 69: Revisiting
The house was larger than the word 'cottage' might have led one to believe, and Hermione stopped on the stone-paved walkway to admire it. It was a brilliant, unseasonably warm autumn day, the sky a faultless blue, and the trees in the front garden wore their autumn glory of red and gold leaves. The house was a bit rambling, as if it had been added-on to at different times, with steeply-pitched gables and gingerbread trim. The front door opened, and Taffy Lestrange rushed through with a squeal, enveloping Hermione in a fragrant hug.
'You're here!' she cried, rocking Hermione gently back and forth in her arms. 'I'm so glad you came!'
Hermione returned the hug, ignoring the prickle of tears she felt. 'It's wonderful to see you,' she whispered into t's fair hair.
Taffy stepped back, holding Hermione at arm's length and giving her a thorough looking-over. 'How pretty you look!' she said, linking arms with Hermione and leading her toward the door. 'You've got so thin! I envy you. The baby made me fat!' She gestured at herself with a rueful face.
'You're radiant,' Hermione said firmly. 'Motherhood suits you.'
'Let's find the others!' t exclaimed, and pulled her friend through the door.
As they crossed the threshold, Hermione noticed that the sign above the lintel said 'Odd Cottage', and then they were in the entrance hall, where steps led up to the first floor.
'Everyone is gathered in the back garden,' t said excitedly. 'Leave your bag here, by the stairs, and we'll put it in your room later.'
Hermione left her travelling bag and allowed t to tug her down the corridor, through a big, country kitchen, where two house-elves were busy with food preparations, and out a door into the sunshine again.
The back garden was large and well laid-out, dominated just now by a central bed of bronze chrysanthemums. Smaller beds of asters and pansies, still in bloom in the October Indian summer, flanked a marble fountain, and guests were scattered about in small groups, their hands occupied with cups of tea and plates of cake.
'Everyone will be so happy to see you,' t said. 'It's been too long!'
Hermione forced a smile and drew a deep, steadying breath. There's nothing to be afraid of, she counselled herself. These people are your friends.
'Hermione!'
Rafe hurried across the grass, a wide smile splitting his handsome, bearded face. He appeared to be fully recovered from his stay in Azkaban, for his grey Muggle suit fit him well, and the burly physique at which his body had only hinted when first she had met him was now in robust evidence. With the silver-streaked dark hair hanging over his collar, he might have passed for an aging rock star, dressed for a visit with his banker. Hermione extended her hand with a welcoming smile, but Rafe engulfed her in a bear hug, spinning her around once before putting her back on the ground.
'Welcome to our home!' he said, pulling t to his side with one possessive arm. 'We are very happy to have you with us.'
'Thanks,' Hermione said. 'I'm sorry I couldn't come before now.'
'Well, you had to train for your new job,' t said, taking Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze.
'Where did they send you for training?' Rafe asked curiously.
'I spent six weeks in America,' Hermione told him. She glanced at t, who still held her hand. 'I'm so sorry I wasn't here when the baby was born.'
Taffy smiled tenderly. 'You're here now, and that's what matters.'
Rafe reached out and scooped Hermione against his other side, walking both witches toward a couple standing beneath a fiery Japanese maple. 'Let's take you to meet Her Highness,' he said, and Hermione could not fail to hear the pride in his voice.
As they drew near, Rafe hailed the couple, who turned to greet them, and Hermione saw it was Vi and Claudius. Vi was glowing, her blond hair wound into a very chic chignon, her pale mauve, jacketed dress and elegant high heels giving her the appearance of a young matron dressed for High Tea. But the most arresting thing about Vi was the small but evident swell of her tummy.
'Look at you!' Hermione cried with delight, returning Vi's hug. 'You're pregnant!' she added in a whisper.
'Not just that,' Vi whispered back, and as Hermione stepped back, Vi extended her left hand, where she wore a wedding ring.
'Congratulations!' Hermione breathed, admiring the platinum band set with diamonds. 'I can't believe you didn't write me about this!'
Vi smiled radiantly. 'We just went down to the Ministry one day and signed the register, really. I didn't want a fuss.'
'And you didn't get one,' Hermione replied softly. 'You got a husband and a baby, instead.'
'Master is so good with babies,' Vi said happily, and Hermione turned then to see that Master Claudius held a tiny figure wrapped in a pale yellow blanket—one Vi had crocheted, as she recalled.
'Come to Mummy, sweeting,' t cooed, and Claudius relinquished the baby to her mother. 'Isn't she a love?'
Hermione looked down into the tiny face, noting the delicate, blue-veined eyelids and the minute rosebud mouth, and she stroked one finger down the sleeping baby's face.
'Hullo, Daisy,' Hermione said. 'Aren't you a pretty girl?'
'That she is,' Rafe affirmed, 'and if she's lucky, she may one day grow to be as lovely as her mother, eh, Princess?'
Taffy turned her eyes to Rafe's, and the two exchanged a look of such intensity that Hermione was driven to look away.
'How do you do, Hermione?' Claudius inquired, and he took her hand between both of his, looking down into her face with keen, searching eyes.
'I'm well, sir. Thank you,' Hermione replied.
Taffy settled the baby in the curve of one arm and touched Hermione's shoulder. 'I want you to meet my parents,' she said, and excusing herself to the others, Hermione accompanied her friend across the grass. 'They're the reason we've gone all Muggle-ish for the day.'
Hermione looked at her sharply. 'You're Muggle-born?' she gasped.
Taffy smiled. 'Yes, just like you.'
'No wonder Rafe's family disapproved of you,' Hermione murmured.
'Really,' t said, 'they never knew. Our marriage was always a secret from them. Then Rafe lost both brothers and his sister-in-law in the last battle. His parents were already gone, and the Ministry confiscated the family properties and their Gringott's vault as part of the investigation after the war. We may receive some portion of the gold back in time, but the Ministry can claim it as reparations, considering how the Lestranges supported the Dark Lord for so long.'
Hermione nodded. 'That must be very uncomfortable for you, though.'
'Oh no,' t assured her. 'Rafe's money came from his mother's family—no Death Eater connections there.'
Hermione met Mr and Mrs Smith, very friendly people from Shrewsbury, in Shropshire, where they ran a chemist shop. Mrs Smith, the picture of a doting grandmother, took charge of Daisy, and soon Rafe joined them.
'Must be getting along, now,' he said, tapping his wristwatch. 'We're expected by half-two.'
The church, as one might expect for a village of this size, was quite small, but very picturesque. Hermione was delighted to see Kell and Reg, both in Muggle clothing, waiting out front. She fairly flew down the path to embrace Kell, both of them laughing and talking at once.
'What about me?' Reggie complained after a moment. 'Don't I get a hug?'
Hermione turned to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Don't you get enough attention at home?' she teased.
Reg turned his gaze to Kell, and Kell looked adoringly into his face until her cheeks were flushed with colour.
'I find my home life very … satisfying,' he said, still looking at his submissive. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have a word with Rafe.'
Hermione couldn't help a giggle of sheer delight. 'Look at you!' she said, linking arms with Kell and leading her aside.
Kell giggled too, her eyes shining. 'I'm so happy,' she admitted. 'We meant to be there for the garden party, but … time got away from us.'
Hermione grinned and gave Kell another impulsive hug. 'I'm so happy for you,' she said. 'I guess the training with Hadrian has gone well?'
Kell nodded once. 'Master spent weekends at Roissy House for several months—all through the spring and summer—and on party weekends, I would go, too. It's been wonderful, Hermione—he's just the same, our Reggie, you know, but with a difference that …'
She broke off, and Hermione felt a terrific tug of envy at the look of rapture on her friend's face.
'I see,' Hermione said simply, for she did. She knew precisely what Kell meant and how she felt.
Kell's fingers touched her throat, bare above the demure neckline of her sapphire blue frock. 'He wouldn't collar me until Master Hadrian was satisfied with his progress,' she confided. 'I feel naked without it now, though.'
Hermione scarcely had time to nod sympathetically before Kell hurried on. 'Master told me once that you were the one who told him he should take training, Hermione.' Kell took her hand. 'You weren't the first to tell him, but when you did, he finally took notice. Thank you.'
Hermione drew a sharp breath, feeling tears threaten again. She had thought she might feel some envy, seeing her submissive friends with their Masters, but she hadn't realised how emotional their reunion would be.
'Don't be silly,' she said, speaking past the lump in her throat with some difficulty. 'I didn't do a thing. You and he have healed your relationship on your own, with no help from me.' She managed a smile. 'Good job, too!'
Kell giggled. 'Thanks,' she said. 'Now, go to see Hadrian and Elinore—they're inside!'
Hermione passed into the church foyer, which seemed quite dark after the bright sunshine, and down the central aisle. She was surprised to see Elinore seated in a Muggle-style wheelchair, and she hurried forward to kneel beside the older witch.
'My dear,' Elinore said, reaching to touch Hermione's hair. 'I'm very happy that you came.'
Hadrian sat at the end of pew beside Elinore's chair, and he stood, taking Hermione's hand and assisting her to rise.
'Hello,' he said simply, his intense eyes never leaving her face, and as at their first meeting, Hermione was struck by the resemblance of his manner and serious expression to that of …
Without speaking, Hermione moved to embrace Hadrian, and he received her into his arms, allowing her to draw what comfort she might from his nearness—as if he knew what she needed, and why. When she stepped away from him again, she felt somehow soothed.
'Thank you,' she mouthed, though the words were soundless, and Hadrian inclined his head, accepting her thanks as his due.
Elinore began to speak lightly of baby Daisy and of Vi's pregnancy, as if she felt the need to cover an awkward pause in the conversation. Hermione listened with half an ear, her attention all for Hadrian, who seemed to hold himself ready for her—as if he were expecting her to say … to ask … something.
There were so many things swirling about in Hermione's mind that she felt a bit outside of herself, almost as if she were watching herself from a distance. She had thought she had left behind the feeling of being without an essential part of herself, for she hadn't been troubled by the acute sensation of loss for weeks, now. But seeing the inhabitants of Roissy House and seeing how they interacted with one another had stirred up a storm of emotion in her—had made it seem suddenly reasonable to make an inquiry which she had forbidden herself ever to broach.
When Elinore reached a pause in her gentle discourse, Hermione wetted her lips and addressed Hadrian. 'Sir, do you know—'
'There you are!' Rafe said, coming up behind her. 'Sorry to interrupt, Elinore, but I must borrow Hermione—time to introduce her to the vicar, show her where to stand and all, you know.'
'Of course, dear,' Elinore said, with a gentle wave of her hand.
Hadrian paid no mind to Rafe, but spoke to Hermione. 'Chin up.'
Before she had time to wonder what Hadrian had meant, Rafe led her up to the front of the building and left her standing by the font.
'I lost t somewhere along the way,' he muttered distractedly, turning to look for her. 'There she is, talking to the vicar's wife.' He strode off in her direction, saying over his shoulder, 'Wait for me there, won't you, Hermione?'
Hermione murmured in the affirmative and smoothed her palms down her brown velveteen skirt, making sure her blouse was neatly tucked in the waistband. Absently, she gazed out at the people coming in and finding places to sit. She was surprised to see so many Muggles at the christening of a wizard baby, but t was a regular church-goer, so presumably, she had a number of Muggle acquaintances. It was true, other than the house-elves, Hermione had seen nothing in Odd Cottage to indicate that the inhabitants were wizards. She smiled to herself, thinking how much Rafe's brothers would have abhorred the life he had chosen to lead.
Claudius entered the sanctuary with his wife on his arm, followed by Reg and Kell, their arms about each other's waists, and Hermione felt her heart lurch. Dear God, she had known it would unsettle her to come here, but she couldn't miss the christening of t's baby. She had promised to stand godmother to Daisy long before her life had taken a drastic turn for the … not for the worse, really, but for the different, certainly.
It was so tempting to watch these submissive women, happy with their Masters, and imagine herself in their midst, participating in their felicity. Unlike the disconnect she felt when she watched Harry with Ginny, or Ronald with his flavour-of-the-week, seeing a Dominant and his submissive together felt right to her. She could easily see herself among them, part of their society, and the sensation she had felt earlier of being outside herself persisted. For months, she had forbidden herself to indulge in these sorts of fantasies, but here, with these people, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
The hush that seemed to fall over the assembled guests was surely a trick of her imagination, for it was easy enough to see that they continued to move about and chat with one another—but Hermione's ability to hear them was impaired as her full attention was drawn to the central sanctuary door. The main doors to the church had been opened, and the afternoon sunshine flooded into the foyer, limning the dark figure at the sanctuary entrance in blinding light. The sounds of the people beginning to take their seats; of the Lestranges and the vicar walking up to stand beside Hermione at the font; of Rafe making an introduction to the vicar, to which Hermione failed to respond; all of these things were drowned out by the pulsation of her heart, echoing in her head like the unrelenting beat of a drum.
The figure in the doorway started forward, having seemingly determined upon a destination, and it was clear then that it was a man, striding up the aisle of the church as if he strode between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables in the Great Hall—or indeed, down the aisle between the work tables in the dungeon Potions classroom.
Hermione reached out to steady herself upon the font dais, and t clasped her hand, twining their fingers and holding on tightly. The man came closer, and Hermione saw the austere black suit with white shirt and deep burgundy necktie, the raven's-wing black of the hair hanging on either side of the narrow face, and then there were only the black eyes, staring into her own, riveting her wordlessly where she stood.
With a breathless slam! Hermione was fully present in her own body again, experiencing all the symptoms of the fight-or-flight syndrome, right down to the tunnel vision which prevented her from looking away. Her face drained of colour, her heart raced, her hands shook, and it was only the supreme exercise of will that permitted her to hear Rafe speak to the vicar.
'Ah, we're all here now! Please meet my daughter's godfather, Professor Severus Snape.'
'Greetings,' the vicar said, but Professor Snape's only answer was a terse nod of the head.
He had eyes for no one but Hermione.
