DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.
I'm considering doing a Pinterest page for this fic-I've never seriously delved into that site, but I really want to combat the bad casting of Movie!Macnair.
To SilverLionness-thank you for your review, I'm glad you appreciate him.
And an extra big Thank You to all reviewers-as always! Feel free to leave a further review in the box at the end of the chapter.
NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 18 - Luckenbooth
"I'll make 'em go away," Walden said. "Just give me a couple o' minutes to say farewell to me friends," and he gestured, presumably in the direction of the other waiting room, toward Crabbe and the Goyles.
"Fair enough," Stella said. She waited until he'd left to turn to Hermione. "He didn't need to get stroppy with me, is that why all the birds showed up?"
Hermione Vanished the bird droppings from where they'd been deposited around the room, and noted that several of the birds had also vanished.
"He has anger management issues, and an extremely restricted wand," she finally said, as she tapped the tea kettle. "Sorry, do you mind?"
"No worries, I think I'll have one myself, we're not in any rush," Stella said, as she sat down in one of the seats. Hermione floated a tea cup toward her and then prepared one for herself. She noted that there were only about three birds left, none of which were leaving behind any messes.
"Look, mate, I don't mean to be a stickybeak...but are you really with that Macnair bloke? I mean, you're...er, who you are and he's, er...who he is." After she said this, as if to underscore the unspoken phrase, the ravens cawed nearly in unison.
"I know him fairly well after being his defence barrister," Hermione said. "We're traveling together because, well, this is the first vacation I've had in years, and I needed to come here."
"I read about it in the Prophet, my grannie sends it to me," Stella said. "You sent your Muggle parents here, yes?"
"I did," Hermione said. "They're in Brisbane, they have a lovely house-I used Google Earth to see it-" she paused, and Stella nodded, confirming her suspicions. "They're dentists-retired now, but they still do charity work, and they go sailing a lot. There's a fairly large chance they won't want to come back to Britain at all. And I'm not sure what they'll think about how long it took to come get them. They were always very supportive of me but, toward the end, when the war started heating up, my father was pretty upset..." and she paused. "Sorry! I'm babbling, but I'm very nervous about seeing them, I'm really glad we're going to get Walden's son first, actually." She floated the biscuit tray over and examined the contents; she was fairly sure none of the birds had landed on it or left any souvenirs behind, so she took a biscuit and munched on it, before sending it in Stella's direction.
"No thanks, I had a fairly big brekky," Stella said. "So, he sent his son here to keep him safe? I don't remember reading about that in the Prophet, but that was in his visa application."
"He did...after, er, You-Know-Who killed his wife, he sent his daughter and son away, and had no idea where they were until a couple of months ago, not long after the trials ended."
"Is that why he got parole, then?"
"One of the reasons," Hermione replied.
"But those other blokes, they're..."
"Being deported, yeah," Hermione finished. "They weren't exactly the brains of the outfit, as you no doubt noticed."
Stella waved her wand to refill her teacup. "As long as they don't cause trouble for us or the Kiwis I suppose I'm good with it...I don't like what your bloke did, but he is spunk," she said, winking at Hermione, who had absolutely no idea what the latter term meant, but made a mental note to look it up later. Sensing her confusion, Stella added, "He's good-looking."
Hermione blushed. "He is."
"So I can assume by that complexion of yours that you are with him, then?"
"I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, or how to explain it to my parents, or anybody, really, but yes, we are together."
"As long as you don't get back with that Weasley yobbo, I guess it's really none of my business."
"Chances of that are pretty slim at this point-you'll see in the Prophet..."
"If he tries to bother the lass again he'll have more to worry about than a little birdshite," Walden said, as he walked back into the recovery lounge. "He insulted her." Two of the three ravens remaining in the room immediately flew up and landed on his shoulders. "I'm ready to go, these will leave when we leave-sorry about the mess..."
"No worries, mate," Stella said. "Miss Granger took care of all that, shall we go?"
They Disapparated directly from the room into an alley adjacent to the Royal Arcade in Melbourne. Hermione looked around in surprise, and asked, "Isn't this a Muggle area?"
"It is-you may as well see the Royal Arcade while you're here. No worries, the entrance is easy, just head in, look for a store called the Spellbox-go all the way to the back, and then step behind the red bookshelf. It's charmed against Muggles. Have fun-maybe I'll see ya on your return trip!" With a brief wave, Stella Disapparated.
"I guess she got me back for me ravens," Walden said, as he stood still so that Hermione could Transfigure his robes into the kilt and jumper she recalled from their pub trip...I suppose that was our first date, she thought, although it still seemed odd to think of their relationship as normal. "I did have a little chat with her," Hermione said, after she then changed his jumper for a lighter shirt and tied her jacket around her waist, considering the rather warm weather.
"I wonder why Muggles would have a store called the Spellbox?" he mused, as they crossed Bourke Street toward the arched entrance.
"I have a pretty good idea," she replied. The shopping arcade was imbued with Victorian charm and had been decorated for Christmas; glimmering lights dangled from the ceilings, and Hermione could tell that Walden was entranced in spite of himself. They stopped to look at a jewelry store window just past the entrance...small red boxes were piled up in the shape of a tree, with sterling silver necklaces serving as ornaments. Next door, there was a chocolatier, and Hermione beamed at the display in its window.
"Do you mind if I pop in here for a bit?" she asked. "I-er, I'd not mind some chocolate, I could get you some as well?" "I'll wait for ye here, lass," Walden said, sounding just a bit too casual. "I'll hurry," she said, figuring he was likely very uncomfortable surrounded by Muggles. The arcade was fairly crowded with shoppers trying to get a jump on holiday shopping.
When she emerged with a small carrier bag laden with chocolate, Walden wasn't standing in precisely the same place that she left him, but she figured he'd probably moved out of the way of the crowd. They continued on and encountered the Spellbox, which was, as Hermione had surmised, a Muggle occult shop, very atmospheric. Walden, to his credit, was extremely silent as they proceeded through the store, although she noticed him raising his eyebrows just a bit at the display of magic wands. Hermione nodded at the shop assistant, who winked at her. They walked behind the red bookshelf, as instructed, which led to a short passageway connecting to a shopping arcade which greatly resembled the one they'd just left, except larger...and swarming with witches and wizards, some of whom were dressed in floor-sweeping robes and tall hats and others in eccentric Muggle wear. Knowing that he'd feel more comfortable, she took his hand and re-Transfigured his clothes back to the lightweight robe he'd been wearing.
"Thank ye, lass," he said, before they exited onto the main thoroughfare. The Slender Wombat turned out to be the first building they spotted, so they headed straight there. It was similar to the Leaky Cauldron in that it was a pub and inn, but it was much newer, and rather more light and airy. It was packed with patrons, and Hermione noted that Walden stiffened at her side and glanced around warily. She went to the bar and inquired about her room reservation, after which she received a key. Walden used the pub's owl to send a message to his daughter, and Hermione arranged a wake-up alarm at 7 AM so they could prepare for Evan's arrival the next morning. Then, a waitress showed the couple to a table tucked away in the back corner. Walden immediately helped her into the seat opposite the room, and he ordered a bottle of whisky before sitting in the seat in the corner, facing outward. She'd not expected any different, so she accepted the menu gratefully.
"I didn't realise it right away but I am fairly hungry," and she bypassed the snack section in favour of the entrees-they both ordered steak, although his was considerably larger. Both began feeling rather tired as they finished their supper, so they ordered coffees and a pavlova to share for dessert.
Before the dessert arrived, Walden reached in his pocket and pulled out a small red box, which she recognized as having come from the Muggle jewelry store. She was rather surprised, but thought she'd managed to keep her composure, until he started chuckling.
"It's nae exactly what ye think, lass," he said.
"What do you mean by not exactly?" she said, and then yawned widely. "Sorry!"
"Ye know I love ye," he said. "And if things were different for both of us I'd ask ye to marry me right now, but I heard what ye and that Ministry lass said." He opened the box and held it out to her; a sterling silver pendant in the shape of two intertwined stylized hearts with a crown on top rested on the velvet inside. "It's a betrothal token," he added, "I want ye to have it so ye know me intentions."
"I, er...I mean, er, thank you," she stammered. Rarely was she without words, but the trip and the rich food and now this development, while not completely unexpected, were all combining to overwhelm her. He stood up and came around to her side of the table and fastened the necklace on her, then kissed her hand.
"Could you ask for our dessert to be sent upstairs?" she asked, as the waitress approached.
It was a very rainy morning at the Burrow. Molly Weasley was in the midst of multitasking her various household chores...Christmas jumpers for Harry, Ginny and James were taking shape in the living room, five cast-iron pots were being scrubbed in the kitchen sink, and she was cooking a fry-up for Ron. He'd arrived very late the previous evening in extremely bad humour, grumbling several vaguely polite phrases to his mother as he stomped up the stairs to his old bedroom, which had become one of many guest rooms (but still sported a Chudley Cannons poster on the back of the door). As she levitated the plates toward the table, the bell over the back door chimed twice, and she glanced out of the window, observing two tall wizards approaching the house, one of whom she recognized.
To her credit, her wand only wavered a bit, causing one of the plates to land oddly and wobble slowly into place as she opened the door.
"Good morn, Molly," Gavin Macnair said, as he swept his hand toward his companion. "I'd like ye to meet me clan chief, and cousin, Hamish Macfarlane. Hamish, this is Molly Weasley, an old school friend of mine," he added. The two shook hands.
"Won't you two come in?" Molly said. "I was just getting ready to serve a late breakfast to my son, and you both are certainly welcome to join us."
"It's actually your son, Ronald, that I'm wantin' to speak with," Macfarlane said, as he sat down in the chair that Molly indicated, next to Gavin.
Molly paused and looked at him; as she was levitating a tea pot in his direction, she waited until it had sat down to respond. "Why would you need to speak with him?"
He cleared his throat. "He's needin' to make things right with one of the family."
"What does that mean, exactly?" She moved plates over from the cabinet and sat them down in front of the two wizards.
"Fiona Macfarlane, me niece, was involved with Ronald until sometime last month, when he broke things off, tellin' her that he was wantin' to get back with his ex-girlfriend." The large man paused, adjusting his jacket a bit.
"I doona think there's any chance of him doin' that, Hamish, like I just said," Gavin said.
"Which ex-girlfriend? I recall Fiona," Molly said. "She came here with Ronald for Easter dinner, but he didn't let us know in advance and it was a bit of a kerfluffle...wait," she said, looking at Gavin. "Would that last bit have anything to do with your son?" and she added an extremely slight veneer of bitterness to the last two words.
"Aye," Gavin said, inclining his head at her. "I ken ye've already seen the papers," and he glanced over at the rather large stack of Daily Prophets on the kitchen hearth. "But this is nae to do with Walden, we're here about Ronald and Fiona," he finished, giving a significant look to Hamish.
"I'll need ta have yer husband here for all the arrangements, but Ronald will be a father in four months, and he'll be needin' to marry Fiona," Hamish said, after which he picked up his spoon and stirred sugar into his tea.
Molly abruptly pointed her wand at her throat, intoned, "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, YOU GET DOWN HERE STRAIGHTAWAY!" then flicked her wand in the direction of the stairs. A glowing white bear flew straight up through the ceiling.