A/N: Hi! Thank you to those who humored this little experiment with kind words and follows. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Editing to follow most likely. :)
The next morning held not the relaxed, idle conversations usually found at our breakfast table. In its place was a rush of gossip and updates. Amongst the post Yule Ball reverie, decisions of character were explicitly decided. Mr. Potter exceeded others in measurement of our regard. Lady Delacour received the opposite rating, much to the gentle protest of Luna. It was as if Luna felt warmth from all things. I smiled at my cousin and asked how she could consider a witch with a disposition resembling a cube of ice to be warmhearted.
"Hermione, I do sense that she has it in her somewhere."
"Rather like an inactive volcano? She is quite stony," Ginny chimed in.
"I think not," I responded. "A volcano can grow a forest and be quite hospitable for thousands if not millions of years."
Ginny giggled, but Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Well, she has grown not a forest, but a certain Mr. Potter—I hear they are near inseparable," our matriarch lamented.
"Accio toast," Ginny said, turning from her mother.
"Ginerva Weasley, I will not see flying toast at our breakfast table!"
Collectively, we were reminded of Mrs. Weasley's high temper and her aspirations of proper living; both were not to be ignored. Sadly, this change of atmosphere all started when I came of age; Ms. Weasley now wanted all of us to fit into higher society—she wanted us married. Of course appropriateness always came to naught after she inevitably fell prey to Mr. Slughorn's famous purple, party punch. I suspected last night's brew was combination of a strong cheering potion and bergamot firewhiskey.
"How could using magic be improper, mum! I don't understand how rich wizards could think flying food is ill-mannered." Ginny's voice was sad, but I could see mischief rising in her like foam on butterbeer.
I do believe a wink must have passed between Ginny and her brothers, for shortly there after every item on the table was floating before us. Mr. Weasley grabbed his tea-cup smiling. That was until he met his wife's eyes.
"Boys! Do not upset your mum!" He yelled unconvincingly before looking back towards his long-suffering wife. He made to leave for his study—no doubt sensing our oncoming doom, and as expected, the rest of breakfast was quite an affair.
Soothing a put upon Mrs. Weasley took not just the gentleness of Luna, but also the disapparation of her twin sons. I deemed their absence for the best, being they have yet to perfect the appearance of sincere remorse. Finally, after many assurances that Luna and I were to go into town in search of Mr. Potter, did she calm at last.
I had planned to use the afternoon for my studies. Thankfully, noticing my dissatisfaction, Luna proposed a leisurely stroll to Hogsmead; walking was by far my favorite way to travel, a detail never lost to my dear cousin. As we readied ourselves for a bright, snowy day, a not so faint knocking could be heard on the door to Mr. Weasley's study. It seemed Ms. Weasley was not yet done with her grievances. Both Luna and I fastened our cloaks with new zeal, for an expedited exit seemed preferable to a repeat of the morning.
…
…
Our walk to town served to raise our spirits. Not that Luna's needed rising, but a bit of exercise was good for the one's disposition in general. Luna immediately spied Mr. Potter and Lady Delacour exiting the tea shop. To her pleasure, Mr. Potter noticed us immediately. I watched as he alerted Lady Delacour to our presence. She looked up and with nothing near a smile, she affixed her gaze to me.
"I do believe I see icicles coming from her eyes even at our far distance, cousin," I whispered.
"I'm sure we will see her smile today, Hermione. Shall we greet them halfway?"
"I suppose."
As we grew closer to the two figures, the width of Mr. Potter's smile was generous, as opposed to his companion.
"Ms. Lovegood and Ms. Granger, what a wonderful happenstance!"
"Indeed! How are you, Mr. Potter?" Luna asked.
"Very well, very well, Ms. Lovegood!"
He was absolutely beaming at Luna. Smiling, I turned my attention to his stiff friend, whose eyes had never left me. "And you Lady Delacour?" I questioned, in defiance of her continuous glare.
"I am quite well—and you, Ms. Granger on this cold day?"
"As it happens, I find the weather quite agreeable."
"Yes, I can see the color in your cheeks. How long was your journey?"
"Not long enough. I could walk for ages."
"With not a care to your garments, as it seems," she replied.
I followed her eyes to my muddy shoes and dress. Then in a flash, they were clean.
"Lady Delacour, did my appearance of a life well lived offend you?" My temper was rising to the likes of Ms. Weasley herself.
"It is I who should apologize," Mr. Potter interrupted. "You see, Lady Delacour is accustomed to assisting me with many of my shortcomings, one of them being my wardrobe." He smiled at his friend. "You see I have a tendency to dirty up. I'm sure it was just a reflex, Ms. Granger. Take no offense."
"What say you, Lady Delacour?" I asked, our eyes now locked.
"He is exactly right, Ms. Granger. Many apologies."
I nodded in acquiescence, if only for my dear Luna and the kind Mr. Potter.
"We should be going, cousin." I had done my duty of going to town and finding Mr. Potter, and being that our meeting was now strained, there was no purpose in lingering in the uncomfortable company of Lady Delacour. Knowingly, Luna agreed.
"But will you come to Netherfield soon?" Mr. Potter asked.
Luna smiled. "Of course. Send invitations at your leisure."
"That will be today! I will send them today!"
"Very well, Mr. Potter," Luna agreed.
"Good day to you both."
"And to you," I said. Then reluctantly I turned towards his companion. "Goodbye Lady Delacour."
"Goodbye, Ms. Granger," she replied. Surprisingly, her eyes moved to my checks. She smiled and I found my own lips rising at the edges. This was an unexpected turn of moods. Luna always said that smiling is contagious, but even against the mind of it's occupant? At that moment, it would seem so.