[Disclaimer: I do not own anything from HP, J.K Rowling does. I am only doing it for entertainment and not money]
: Author's Note : Chapter 2. Thanks for reading the last chapter, it meant a lot. I don't know when, but soon I'm going to upload a poll to see which house you want Harry and Luke to be in. It might not be for a couple of chapters, so don't get too excited. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter.
Chapter 2: The Pasturl Ball
Petunia cursed under her breath. She hadn't done that in a long time, with the children and their curiosity, but this situation deserved a curse. It was completely humiliating! And infuriating. Her expression reflected the endless stress of her duties as a mother, which should have been covered up with heavy make-up, though it had slipped through.
Daniel and Petunia Pasturl, along with their sons, Harry and Luke, were attending the Pasturl Ball, a yearly event that was held to celebrate the Pasurl's family achievements. Petunia, however, loathed the celebration. Adam Pasturl, Daniel's annoying twin brother, was often there with his wife, who he took no shame in gloating that she was a model for the Witch Weekly, whatever that was.
This year was no different. Margaret Pasturl had greeted the family at the door, yelling at some house-elves to take their coats while ruffling Luke's hair fondly. She had then led them down a candle-lit hallway, presenting her ancient antiques with great pride. Then they had entered the main hall to find that they were the last guests there. Albert Pasturl, red-faced and clutching an empty wineglass, left the crowd to welcome the family.
"Daniel, good boy," he said, tousling Daniel's hair. "And Petunia! How very good to see you. Oh, and little Luke and Harry Potter. Third year now, that's you've had little Harry Potter, haven't you? Awfully kind of you to take him in and treat him so kindly. I was surprised when I heard Harry Potter has become a Pasturl, the whole boy-who-lived thing. But he's family, so he won't be getting any more attention then our Luke, will he?"
Daniel shook his head. "No, the boys will be treated the same. Until Harry goes to Hogwarts and then we'll just have to see what the fans do."
Petunia gave a shy smile. She hated the whole Pasturl family, except for her Daniel, but he had warned her, as he did every year, to be polite to his family.
"Oh, Albert!"
Albert turned around, his white beard tickling Petunia's belly and faced his wife, Margaret.
"You've already drank half the drinks and the balls barely began," Margaret said, shaking her head like a mother would to her children. "I'm very sorry Petunia, my husband can't help himself at special occasions like the Pasturl Ball. I'm very glad none of my children have turned out like that." Daniel blushed while Petunia hid her smirk. At their honeymoon, Daniel had spent a hundred pounds of drinks for the pair of them and then ended up drinking them all himself. "Christine is having a few drinks herself, of course, but she's just given birth. Have you heard, Daniel? Christine's had a little baby named Louise."
Daniel smiled. He had been the first person to actually meet little Louise, beside her parents, and had been named her godfather. From what he could remember, Louise could be mistaken for Luke's little sister.
"Yes, Mother, I'm the godfather."
The older Pasturl's smiled. "I told her that to choose the right godparents, I did," Albert added. "Choosing her own brother, taken my advice to heart, I reckon. You were always more sensible than yer brother, Adam, Daniel. Though if she has another kid, I reckon she will name him the godfather. Oh look, here she comes."
Christine Pasturl was Daniel's little sister and, admittedly, the most stunning of Margaret and Albert's children. She had long, golden hair and charming, baby-blue eyes. She was wearing a long, silver dress as she made her way gracefully over to her parents and brother.
"Hey Dan!" she said. She smiled, showing off her very white teeth. Petunia spluttered, anybody with teeth that colour was probably covering them in paint. "And Tuney. I honestly didn't think you'd come, with Luke and Harry Potter. I've heard some rumours that you were on a tour in Greece, but obviously, you aren't. I wasn't going to come, with Louise, and but I'm glad I did."
Petunia snorted. The woman should be caring for her child, not worrying about rumours about her brother.
"Is Louise here?" asked Daniel. "Luke's always wanted to have a baby cousin; there is Harry, but he doesn't really count."
"Yeah," Christine said. "Barny is caring for her in the child's room. Oh yeah, didn't Mother show you? We've got a child room since Adam got his wife pregnant too, a few weeks ago."
"Oh, my goodness, I completely forgot," Margaret said, fussing. "Come this way, Daniel and Petunia, you can drop off your children there. You know how big our family gets, with Luke being seventy sixth in line, I think, and we needed to separate the children from the adults, the language that is used here. Oh dear."
They left the main hall and entered an entirely different chamber with portraits of snakes, lions, badgers and eagles decorating the walls. Petunia had come to the conclusion that the Pasturls were no ordinary pureblood wizarding family. They weren't blood crazy, as Potter had often called it, nor were they loyal to one house. They seemed a bit strange, to be honest, as Potter and Lily had said when they first met her husband. The Pasturls had always remained neutral between wars and they had married purebloods, halfbloods, muggleborns, squibs and, in Daniel's case, muggles. The wizards had been sorted into a variety of Hogwarts houses and Petunia couldn't help but think how horrible a 'normal' pureblood family would be like.
As they entered the child room, Petunia put her thoughts to the back of her mind. The room was not that different to the rest of the house, she realised, with some cribs, toys and mats planted randomly around the room. Fifty children, under the age of five, sat on the floor, talking baby language to one another. The sounds of laughing came from behind a door in the furthest corner.
"This is the baby room for all the young children aged from newborn to five years old," Margaret explained. "Luke and Harry Potter shall be in this room. Five until Hogwarts age is in that room over there." She pointed at the door in the furthest corner. "And anybody who is or was at Hogwarts stays in the main hall."
"And by newborn, we mean literally newborn," Christine added. "I think our second cousin, Maisy, is giving birth at this second. I should probably check on her; I was going until I saw you, Dan. And Tuney."
And she left.
Luke, however, had different ideas. He had spotted Michael, a boy who he had met at a funfair once and tried to get free of his father's grip.
"Look daddy!" he cried. "There's Michael! The boy who gave me ice cweam!"
Daniel craned his neck. He found Michael, a chubby boy and, like the last time they had found him, was holding an empty ice-cream cone.
"I didn't know he was related to us," he said softly. "Mother, who is that boy over there? Michael?"
"Michael Carrington?" Margaret asked. "He's probably one of the most distantly related to you. His great-great-great-great-great grandfather." She counted with her fingers. "was your great-great-great-great grandfather's second cousin, once removed. And his great-great-great-great grandfather of Michael was banished from the family. Adrian, Michael's father, only found out about his family tree a few months ago and we decided to allow them back in; since there is a possibility all four hundred and thirty-two children in line could die."
Petunia rolled her eyes. Only if a bomb hit the manor at that second could all four hundred and thirty-two children die without leaving a kid behind. Daniel however, nodded his head, as if it was the most logical thing to do.
"Makes sense," he said slowly. "Remember that fire that killed our family thirty-eight generations ago? If it hadn't been for Guy Pasturl, we wouldn't be here."
Luke continued to pull at his hand.
"Let's go see Michael!" he squealed. "Come on Harry; Michael will give you even more ice cweam now!"
"Yay!"
Petunia and Daniel both let go of the boys, giving each other amused glances, before turning back to where Margaret had been, but now stood Christine.
"Sorry guys," she said, talking a pace so fast that Petunia and Daniel could barely hear what she was saying. "Maisy just gave birth to her baby and Margaret had to go and collect the baby. Anyway, if you wanna go back to the main hall then follow me."
She walked away at a quick pace, so Petunia had to do a walk-jog to catch up. As they entered the main hall again, she found an old, withered man on a throne at the very end, clutching the arm so hard that his shaking knuckles were turning paler than the rest of his body.
Christine gave a small gasp and, realising Petunia's confused expression, explained.
"That's Gnaeus Ducere Pasturl, the leader of the Pasturl house, you see," she said. "He is one hundred and fifty six, I think, Dan?"
"He had his one hundred and fifty seventh birthday last week."
"Oh yes," Christine said. "Anyway, when he dies, his son Julius shall take over, and he's one hundred and twenty one in April. I met him last summer at the Ministry, it was quite a surprise. And then when Julius dies, his grandson shall take over and then his son takes over and then his son takes over and then his son takes over…. Oh, you get the point."
Petunia nodded. This was basically the Royal Family but with a lot less fans and quite a bit more heirs.
"It is unlikely for Luke ever to get the throne, though," Christine added, as if the couple hadn't realised it yet. "Unless there is a plague, I doubt he will be the leader. Anyway, come with me to see Gnaeus; he might recognize us this time, Dan. Last time he thought I was an assassin who wanted to kill him and ended up chucking plastic spoons at my head."
She walked forward briskly, pushing past the crowd until they arrived at the throne. On closer inspection, Petunia found it was made of a mixture of copper and metal, with rubies littering the sides. The old man himself seemed to have enough wrinkles to cover several seventy year old men. Dan and Christine bowed, and Petunia followed suit.
Gnaeus stared for a moment, blinking, before speaking.
"Vicki!" he cried, staring at Petunia. "My daughter! How did you get her, Dave, she's dead! But you brought her alive! Thank you, thank you!"
He practically fell out of the throne and kissed Daniel on the cheek, before turning to Petunia.
"Mmmm, sorry, sir," she said meekly. "But I'm not… not Vicki. I'm Petunia, Daniel's wife."
Gnaeus didn't bother to hide his disappoint, and flopped back onto his throne, surprising Petunia. He was one hundred and fifty seven for God's sake!
"Oh," he said slowly. "So Vicki's still dead?" He glanced at Christine, as if hoping she had brought his daughter back to life, put grimaced as she nodded her head. "So, Clare, why are you here at Pasturl Manor?"
Petunia realised he had a tendency to getting name's almost correct.
"It's the Pasturl Ball, Gnaeus," Christine explained. "Your whole family is here. Look, over there is your son, Julius. And there is your favourite grandson, Leonardo. You just don't recognise us as much because you only see us at this event."
She spoke slowly for the old man, despite her very fast speeches when she was anybody with working ears.
"Oh, hello Gnaeus!" said a voice. Petunia, Daniel and Christine turned to see Margaret walking towards them. "I hope my children Daniel and Christine haven't been giving you too much of a hassle."
"Vicki!" gasped Gnaeus. "How are you… Oh, it's just you Margaret." He turned his head, eyes glistening with disappointment, and Margaret turned a deep red that clashed horribly with her dress.
"Sorry, Gnaeus, but we've got to go," she said as if he hadn't said anything. "Albert wants his sons and daughter, and their partners to meet up for a drink in the Moon Garden."
Gnaeus, however, wasn't listening. He was smiling, and waving a someone.
"Vicki, dear, how are you al-… Oh, it's just another woman."
"Let's go," hissed Margaret and the four trotted towards the door. They went through a labyrinth of corridors and staircases until they finally reached a greenhouse at the very top of the manor. It was not a normal greenhouse, however, as Petunia found out. It had bushes with leaves the colour of the rainbow, surrounding them like a hedged maze. Insects all shapes and sizes fluttered around them, twitching and squeaky as they landed on branches. The floor was made of pebbles that were a dark green, and a statue of a man holding a sword in one hand and a wand in the other stood in the very centre.
Underneath the statue was Albert, and Adam, the twin of Daniel. They look exactly the same, though Adam was wearing upper-class robes and was smirking at Daniel's plain suit.
"Hey, little bro," he said, pulling Daniel into a hug. "Man, have I missed you. But I have been busy, as you've probably heard. With Mirabelle and the baby, you know what's it like. And Chrissy!" Christine frowned at the use of her nickname. "Mira told me you had had a baby. Was I not invited to the Christening?"
"I did invite you, Adam," Christine said. "But you and Mira were at some event and decided that was better than family!" She was now glaring, changing from the chatterbox that she had been with Daniel.
"Al!" snapped Margaret, oblivious to her children's conversation. "Where are Mirabelle and Barny? You did tell them to come?"
"Yes," said Albert. "They just went to explore the garden."
As if on cue, Mirabelle and Barny appeared. Mirabelle looked very much like Christine, only much more beautiful. She was taller, slimmer and seemed to be doing her smile more for show then anything else. Her hair was magnificent and perfect, which would've been freakish on anybody else but seemed flawless on Mirabelle.
Barny was a lot more simple. He was wearing a plain suit like Daniel and his hair was a sandy blonde. He was smiling much more pleasantly. Petunia couldn't help but like him, maybe because the prat, Mirabelle, was right next to him.
"Bonjour, Daniel et Petunia," greeted Mirabelle. She gave a girlish giggle. "Oh, sorry. I've been in France for a few months and I just can't stop speaking French!"
Adam laughed. "It doesn't matter, darling," he said. "Daniel knows how to speak French, don't you? And I assume Petunia's family could at least afford a French tutor."
Petunia blushed. As a kid, her family had had a few issues involving money and Adam knew this very well.
"Why did you say that?" asked Daniel. He was frowning and defensive. "What did Petunia ever do to you?"
"If you married her then we expect her to have at least enough money to get private teachers," Mira said. "So, do you know any French, Petunia?"
Petunia now smiled. She had studied French at the library in her teens, so she could prepare to explore the world, though now her future plans had changed.
"Oui, je peux parler Français, merci beaucoup," replied Petunia, smirking at Mirabelle's surprised face.
[Translation: Yes, I can speak French, thank you very much]
"Calm down," said Margaret. "We're not here to speak French. We're here to be a family. Shame we can't have the children."
"You made that rule yourself, Mother," Christine commented. "Just because Mirabelle's pregnant." She rolled her eyes as Mirabelle patted her stomach and Adam beamed.
"I must say, it is rather queer," Albert said. "Our eldest son is having children last and our second youngest had one first."
"Oh yeah," Adam said, turning to his twin. "Little bro, Dan, is Harry Potter really part of the family? I mean, sure, he's Petunia's little nephew but he's not your son? Why didn't you abandon him?"
"Because Harry will always be family," Daniel replied, growling. "No matter who he is and how distantly related he is to us. And nothing was change that."
He stood up, and grabbed Petunia's hand.
"Let's go downstairs."
"I suppose we should," Margaret said. "I think the food room is now open, we could get some dinner. And the children could come along to meet each other."
Everybody agreed and they headed back downstairs, Daniel and Petunia glaring at Adam in the corner of their eyes.
Once they reached the main hall, they took another left and carried on until they reached the children's room again to pick up their kids. Christine instantly went to the very corner and picked up a baby, which was wrapped in a pink tea-towel, and smiled.
"You haven't met Louise yet, have you, Petunia?" she said sweetly. Petunia still scowled, the lady should know who has seen her baby. But she still looked down, and saw a baby with grey eye's, like Gavin's. "I think she's inherited Gavin's look."
Daniel, however, wasn't listening and started to rummage around the kids, frequently almost stepping on somebody's toe until he dragged two boys with ice-cream stains around their mouths back towards the family.
"Oh, boys!" Petunia said, bending down at the sight of Harry and Luke, before scrubbing their faces and ignoring their whines. "Don't get ice-cream on your face and I won't have to do this!"
"Leave it, Tuney," said Daniel. "We're going to the food room anyways, they'll get food on them again."
Petunia shrugged. "Alright, then."
And they left the room.
77H77
Several months later and Petunia was tucking the boys into bed. She glanced at the window, smiling softly, as she placed the cover on Harry, who had fallen asleep once his head had hit the pillow.
She wandered downstairs, making sure not to make a noise, and entered the living room, to find Daniel holding a piece of parchment in his hand. His expression was concerned and Petunia could tell whatever was written on the parchment wasn't containing good news. She snuggled up next to her husband, and read.
Dear Daniel and Petunia,
We haven't spoken in a couple of years. Not face to face, anyhow, and I was wondering whether you'd like to come to Hogwarts to speak about this, mainly about your upbringing of Harry Potter. Please bring the boys, I want to see how they are doing.
If you are unable to do this, then please send the owl back with a note explaining why you can't come and a new date and time. Please keep it as close to the original date.
My suggested time is the 24st August, 1984, at 2pm.
Yours Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Petunia groaned, and went to place the date on the calendar.
: End Author's Note : Hope you enjoyed it. This chapter is several months after Daycare Downs in December, 1983. I wanted to explore the Pasturl family and, to be honest, a ball seemed to be fine. Gnaeus is definitely my favourite, I reckon he is still looking for his dead daughter, 'Vicki'. Please review, favorite and follow, it makes my day.