Yule Express
Lavender seemed in the mood to fret about spending time with her little sister, who hadn't answered any letters since September. And seemed intent on making a list of Christmas-themed activities she could inspire for bonding time with her younger siblings. So Parvati left her to it and went to find Fey or anyone else she ought to catch up with before being alone with mostly her two (Three? Four?) families for the rest of the holidays.
On the way to the back of the train, she met Freyazegen heading in the other direction.
"Hey," said Parvati, "Is there a Potter-Black compartment already?"
Freya shook her head, "The compartment I used to think of as Harry's is full of firsties. I had an idea so I'm looking for Derick or … wait, you're passing Divination, right?"
"Yes," said Parvati, "Why?"
"I'm still trying to find words to describe what I see as the difference between alertness to the times, and enough of a sense of history to interpret the currents below the surface. Compared to alertness to the omens and willing acceptance to what they might mean."
"Ah," said Parvati and stared, There was a definite distinction there. As wide and subtle as the distinction between witchcraft and wizardry. But how to express any of that? "I feel like there is enough difference that mastering one might allow a different kind of non-contradictory activism, than mastering the other."
Freya nodded, "Exactly, and it feels like you're more of one, and your sister is more of the other, and I have the right sense of history for one, but the alertness to the omens that goes with the other."
"Hmm, perhaps," said Parvati. "If that is true, what would be the best course of action?"
Freya shrugged, "either learn better alertness or learn better calm." She rolled her eyes, "As if."
"Or accept that you won't be the first one to know how things are going, and concentrate on other parts of your game."
"Huh?"
"As you said, having the right kind of calm acceptance, that you can honestly interpret the omens, isn't always compatible with having (shall we say,) an ambition operating cross purposes to the meaning of that omen. There's a reason why seers are often advisers to those in power, rather than exerting influence themselves."
Freya sniffed, "Don't think I have anyone I'm willing to trust by default with all my insights if I had any I was capable of expressing."
Parvati nodded, "That doesn't surprise me, what about the other direction? Do you have any ambitions that you would work for no matter what, including if the omens suggest that exact timing might be key? And could you accept anyone else's advice on what that timing might be?"
Freya closed her eyes, "I'd have to think about it."
"Hey, stop blocking the corridor," said Marcus Belby.
Freya squished to the side to let him pass.
Parvati was about to copy her, then changed her mind and turned back towards the front of the train.
If there was no Potter-Black compartment yet this trip, she might as well check whether Padma had occupied the compartment where Russel used to sit and read or look for Ginny where she used to hang with Percy. Because those seemed equally likely places for one to crystallise at this point.
Freya of course followed her. Not that she noticed before Marcus turned off at a washroom.
Padma was reading in Russel's old compartment, and Harry, Ginny, and Luna were in the next compartment, half scrunched up on a single bench facing backwards. From the way things echoed, or failed to, both compartments had recently been silenced, Parvati went in to check on her sister first.
Padma put her book down and looked her over.
"How are you feeling?" said Parvati.
"Hot and bothered," said Padma, "And not in a mood to be hot and bothered. … or more technically, looking forward to spending several hours in Potter Manor before floo'ing home to check on and perhaps synchronise with parents' schedules and whatever else."
Parvati nodded, "Certainly."
"And knowing that here is not the place, or the … rhythm of what I'm interested in."
"I understand," said Parvati, "and that girl you took in?"
"Casey," said Padma, "I wonder how long it has been since she's had a proper Christmas."
"And what traditions would make it a proper Christmas for her?" said Parvati.
"Good point," said Padma.
"There can also be the line in there somewhere," said Freyazegen, "for some people, choosing between giving her nostalgia and giving her a new tradition to cling onto to let her partition the old from the new."
"Hmm," said Padma, "That makes sense if that's what she wants. Is that … was that, a common issue at the old orphanage?"
"Yes," said Freyazegen, "some of it was on purpose, and some of it was because money and volunteer time were not infinite resources, but there were usually few enough children that everyone could choose one favourite tradition to keep, and let the rest go or not, depending on other constraints."
"That sounds practical," said Padma, "What would you choose?"
"Don't ask me that until I scope out what other people have already chosen," said Freya, "No point in using my wish for something I'm going to get for free anyway?"
Padma chuckled.
"No," said Freya, "In all seriousness, I think I'm going to be re-doing my back-to-school shopping, at least so far as clothes are concerned. Maybe after Christmas, when I know what else I've gotten for Christmas, and … and maybe if there are sales, that might be helpful."
"Ah!" said Padma, "There's an idea." And gave Parvati a meaningful look.
"I'm in," said Parvati.
"Good," said Padma, with a finger wave for them to leave her alone, "Leave me out of it, etc. Bye." She picked up her book.
Freya looked at Parvati and shrugged, "Floo you on boxing day?"
Parvati nodded.
Freya plopped down on the bench across from Padma and looked out the window.
Parvati contemplated getting out a book and joining them or checking on other friends first.
She went in and sat facing the others. She watched Luna reading a magazine, lying on her side with her head in Harry's lap and her feet trailing off the seat to tangle up with Ginny's feet.
Harry was reading notes or an essay, possibly one of his shared projects with Ginny.
Parvati sensed that there was inertia and negative emotions with why they were sitting all on one seat facing backwards, instead of more evenly spread out around the compartment.
And Ginny seemed very uncomfortable, either about the critique she was expecting from Harry when he finished reading whatever it was, or about the obvious place to put her elbow would be offensively, (or enticingly) close to Luna's taint.
Hmm, that had distinct possibilities, speaking of Padma feeling hot and bothered. Had she just left?
"Ginny, love, sister-wife."
Ginny looked up.
"Would you care to share this bench with me? I'm willing to scoot either direction to make you comfortable."
Ginny grinned, rolled her eyes twice, motioned Parvati all the way to the window, then jumped up and mirrored Luna's posture including kicking off her shoes, but she didn't get out anything to read, instead, she began humming. At first, it was quiet, but two tunes later, it was loud—an imitation of organ music or violin or something.
Oh, god, I didn't know Ginny was into that sort of thing.
Luna put down her magazine to stare at her.
They are for sure making eyes at each other.
Luna hummed along for one song then went back to reading. Intermittently humming along again when the mood took her. Possibly for choruses where she'd memorised more of the tune.
When Parvati recognised a tune she'd hum along also. Mostly Christmas songs.
One time she sang, and they flinched. They continued humming, but from the way they flinched several more times Parvati got the idea that they knew completely different words to that tune.
So when she finished both verses that she knew, she asked them what words they knew to that song, so they sang.
Harry watched them and listened in awe.
"Do you know more verses, Harry?" said Luna.
"I know the same muggle version as Parvati," said Harry, "and not as well, singing would have been much too performative to be allowed me by the Dursleys, even church songs." He rubbed his forehead, "That might be a counter indication of what I would enjoy if I got around to pushing past the conditioning."
Parvati nodded, "If you were going to attempt that, how would you go about it?" Why am I asking this, this is Padma's job.
"Probably church music," said Harry, "sing in a room full of people who already know the words to drown out my mistakes. And I guess I'll have to start learning from scratch, since my voice has changed since, and everything."
"Makes sense," said Parvati.
"No it doesn't," said Ginny, "get a wireless and sing along in the privacy of your own kitchen while you bake and wash dishes. You'll be able to learn faster because you'll be listening to fewer people. Well, as long as you can find another singer that sings in the range that your voice is at."
"Hmm," said Harry, "maybe."
Ginny was tense, that was certainly not the criticism from Harry that she could have been dreading twenty minutes ago, but somehow she was reacting anyway. And he hadn't even criticised, not really, she was just … primed to expect criticism right now or something. Is there something I can do about it?
No idea, but how about:
"Perfect!" said Parvati, "Someone asked me what to get you."
"Huh?" said Harry.
"Ginny wants a wireless for her kitchen. Simple. And within my budget, and providing enjoyment for longer than a week."
"What?" said Ginny rolling over and glaring up.
"My parents run a co-op, one Christmas I think I got nothing but food. Granted that most of them were my favourites and I did enjoy them, (and I did share,) but … it kind of felt like a bad investment, a week after, I'm not against giving people edible treats, but I also like to mix in clothes and other things that have a chance for lasting the whole year."
"Oh, sure!" said Harry.
"Clothes, you say," said Ginny with narrowed eyes, "Yeah, that makes sense."
"How about you, Parvati," said Harry, "Is there a music-themed item you want?"
Parvati shrugged, "I'd like my violin tuned, I guess. Padma can do it, I know I should be able to by now, and I mostly can, but I can't get it absolutely perfect the way she can."
"Hmm," said Harry, "alright."
"I'll go tell her," said Luna and scampered from the room. The train noise was excessively loud out in the corridor.
Harry froze and looked around, "Um, Ok then."
All three of them stared after her until the door closed again and the relative silence returned.
Harry turned and stared at the two of them instead.
After a couple of seconds, his expression melted from surprise and noise shock to something Parvati suspected was, 'My girlfriends are being cute, and snuggled against each other, which is extra cute.'
He glanced towards the space by Ginny's feet.
Parvati nodded.
He turned back to check what she meant by that.
Parvati slid a finger into her fist and then pointed at Ginny's bum.
He raised a sharp eyebrow.
Parvati switched from a finger inside a fist to just a hand rubbing over her fist.
"Hmmmmmm," He let his eyebrow relax and glanced at the door. Then drew his wand and colour changed the window to bright purple and green stripes.
Without putting his wand away he levitated Ginny's feet, enough to startle her and slip in underneath them.
"Woah, what?" said Ginny, "I don't think that's going to work, I'm not as small as Luna."
"No," said Parvati, "But you're not a lot taller than her, and I'm narrower than Harry, I think something will work out." But she scooted farther against the window cushion just to be sure.
Ginny scooted after. And grunted uncomfortably. Harry had released the levitation on her feet and she tried to swing them down onto the floor, but Harry managed to catch one while also putting his wand away.
"No, no," said Harry, "stretch out and get comfortable. I can be your foot cushion, you know."
"Oh, hell!" said Ginny in an altogether different tone of voice.
Parvati looked over to see that her knee was between Harry's knees and he was stroking down her shin with one hand, and teasing his way up her thigh with the fingers of his other hand.
"How far are you planning on going?" said Ginny.
"How far would you like me to go?" said Harry.
"Not sure," said Ginny, then pulled up her skirt enough that Parvati could see the hem, for sure Harry would be able to see the skin of her thighs.
Ginny tensed, and her hand shot down to grab Harry's wrist and guide him to exactly what part of her thigh she wanted him stroking.
Her jaw went open-but-tense the way it often did at times like these.
Parvati leered down at her, but her eyes were half closed and half aimed at the ceiling on the far side of the compartment.
"How long have you been planning this?" said Ginny.
"Since Parvati told me to."
Ginny's head twisted to stare at Parvati, "What gave you the idea?"
"Watching you sit in almost the same situation and trying so hard not to invade Luna's private space."
"Oh, dear," said Ginny.
"And despite the train jostling both of you."
Ginny nodded spasmodically, then she gasped and reached down to catch Harry's hand again. When she could focus on Parvati again, she said, "What do you want?"
"No idea if it would be possible or comfortable, but, can you tilt your head a little higher towards my stomach?"
Ginny tried that, then gave up, "What if you scooted closer to the edge of the seat, and let me pet you too?" she mimed with her fingers of the hand that wasn't guiding Harry.
"Sure, we can try that," said Parvati and slid forward.
She didn't scoot as close to the edge of this bench as she might have for a motionless bench. As much as the train was jerking and jostling them around she didn't feel like letting herself be dumped off onto the floor, but even so, she got near enough the edge to allow Ginny's fingers to slide under and very near.
"And with one of your hands," said Ginny, "I'm sure you can find my breasts, not sure how many buttons you want to loosen to get there, and not all of my shirts have buttons. But …"
"But I'm welcome to loosen a few to get closer?" suggested Parvati.
Ginny nodded.
Her head was so close. But so far away.
Parvati sighed and undid two buttons, one each on a robe and a jumper, next was a blouse and her leather under-thing. That seemed close enough to— get her to tremble like that. Perfect.
I'd need to undo a lot more to reach her other breast, and catching chills could be a thing, not that the train seemed to have lost heat service yet this trip.
"I don't know what it's called," said Ginny, "But the way the carriage is also shaking us makes it very different."
"I don't know either," said Harry, "But I think I like it."
"I also admire you two for inventing this posture," said Ginny, "Top ma—marks, keep doing that, both of you. Gods and powers!"
Harry laughed happily, "The main problem that I detect with this posture is that I cannot reach to kiss either of you, without stopping at least one other thing. Which … I guess is … an issue common to other postures as well, never mind, blathering, shutting up."
Ginny giggled at him, for only a moment, then went back to moaning.
.
So they spent many minutes very pleasantly. Only Ginny climaxed violently enough to scream about it. Parvati merely got to that point where she suddenly realised that she was so aroused that to reach climax she needed not to find the next bit where to tense harder, but to find which bit to relax and let it happen, so she did.
And Harry definitely had some sort of episode where he held his breath and shifted his weight, and half a minute later moved a hand from stroking Ginny's legs to holding his groin, and four seconds later he sighed long and tremulously, and returned to stroking Ginny.
Afterwards, when they unlocked the door, Padma and Luna's searching expressions seemed a bit on the knowing side. Luna's perhaps went as far as congratulatory.
.
"Daniel!" shouted Freyazegen and ran across the platform toward him, He didn't seem to hear her, but at the last moment he did seem to hear the grumbles of the people she'd dodged around and turned in time for her to hug him.
"Merry Christmas," he said, "Merlin you're short."
"Whatever," said Freyazegen.
"You didn't take off your necklace the whole time you were there?"
"No," said Freyazegen, "I conjured platform boots, glamoured some whiskers, and just let everyone gradually get used to what I look like with my new haircut." She shrugged. "Anyway, loose robes hide most everything anyway."
"Oh."
"And outside of classes and away from revising with people-who-knew-Ben, I took the glamour off. I have friends of my own now."
Daniel stared at her, then smiled and hugged her, "Good, glad to hear it."
And another hug.
"Do these friends have names?"
"Romilda and Derick, … and Orla."
Daniel nodded, "Oh, friends with first names!" he nodded again, "Good, shall we go home?"
"Yes, let's," said Freyazegen.
They made their way towards the floos.
.
"Padma?" said Gwen.
Gwen almost always ignored Parvati, since she technically worked for Ginny.
"I'm Parvati," said Parvati, "But what do you need?"
Gwen seemed at a loss for how to proceed, then motioned for her to follow, and led her upstairs and around to the laundry room.
She pulled out a skirt and blouse and laid them out. Both had the letters T and F marked on the back near the waist on the right side.
"What am I looking at?" said Parvati.
"'Thursday' and 'Friday'. Casey's peers mark her clothes with permanent markers. Almost every day. I can and do lift the stains with magic. (Which I think confuses them about whether or not she is in brand new clothes every week, yet still wears the same clothes two days in a row, etc.) Once she came to me crying because someone had used a whole punch on the hem of her shirt, we spent 45 minutes in the library finding the right mending charm to repair that without access to the removed material, I think letting her help me look that up was good for her, but not in the same way that making her clothes punch proof to start with would have been. (but I cannot cast that in a way that will stick for more than about 24 hours. If she had clothes with less artificial content it would be easier, but whatever.)
"Kirk's peers do similar things to him, but not as aggressively. I think that there's not as much pressure on him to show his class by the way he dresses and more pressure on him in other ways. A bigger wardrobe probably wouldn't hurt, and I'm fairly sure that it all would get much worse if I wasn't catching and lifting the stains, but I'm not in a position to criticise my sister's clothes budget, nor contribute to it, but I thought Padma would want to … do something to protect her child from a distance, because she sure as hell isn't doing it from up close."
Gwen covered her mouth, and closed her eyes, "I'm sorry, it's not my place to criticise her either."
"There are criticisms," said Parvati, "And there are just passing on warnings when we have them to pass on, I will pass this on, plausibly I will be put in charge of this, I am considered the fashion-conscious one, though I am perhaps slightly out of touch with muggle fashion if you think you can help with that, or know who can, I'll be grateful."
"Oh, alright. Good, thank you."
Parvati nodded.
.
Petunia shuffled into the kitchen to start the breakfast, at her place lay an envelope that seemed to have sprung into existence there overnight. It seemed to be hand-folded out of white and blue standard ruled paper. As if someone had gone out of his way to not use parchment but hadn't been able to kick the habit of constructing his own envelope.
It was addressed to "Aunt Petunia," in Harry's hand.
She opened it, it didn't start properly at all, just:
"Good Morning,
"Thank you for your letter. Our classes are going as well as can be expected under the circumstances.
"I've investigated the children you were concerned about, and how they managed to shorten their school commute to London by half an hour via a shortcut through Little Whinging, we've helped them find an even faster commute, so they shouldn't bother you anymore.
"I have no idea what to get Uncle Vernon for Christmas, do you have any suggestions?"
And it was signed, "Lord Harry James Potter."
...-...
Presence and Shopping
Mary Angelopoulos looked up from her cards when something rang. It was a very unique tone. Mary wasn't sure whether it was a telephone or a doorbell. She couldn't remember hearing anything like it before.
And it put Phoebe on edge, though perhaps not more than a sudden phone call ought.
"I'll get it," shouted Phoebe's daughter from the corridor and rushed past the sitting room door.
"Hey, Parvati."
"There's been a change of plans," said what sounded like a girl of about the same age, "Padma and Casey are joining in, as are Eirian and Kirk and Robbie, are you still in? And are you willing to consult on prevailing fashion?"
"I'd love to, let me talk to Mom … and/or Andy. When?"
"Any time before Christmas, but I think Saturday is the major option."
"Alright, let me check, I'll call you back."
Phoebe's girl came in.
"Who was that?" asked Phoebe.
"That was Parvati, umm The Future Lady Black, about organising a shopping trip for I guess, everyone in her house that is still growing."
They stared at each other, "Half of whom are the orphans they took in last August?"
She shrugged and nodded, "May I help? And do you want to send Andy along too?"
Phoebe sighed, "Are you on crowd control or fashion police?"
"I was invited to be a fashion consultant, which is a laugh, Parvati has twice my skill and nerve, and three times my experience, but most of it isn't local and she seems to think that's important."
"It can be," said Phoebe and sighed. She rubbed her forehead.
"Are these Chelsea's acquaintances?" said Mary.
Phoebe dropped her hands and stared at Mary, "Yes," she said, "same orphanage. What are you thinking?"
"While I would love to surprise her with everything she needs, I don't know her tastes that well yet. Letting her pick out her wardrobe is better politics than trying to guess this early and everything."
Phoebe nodded.
"I will not invite myself along, but if someone invites her, I will not be upset, and I can be an additional chaperone if it comes to that."
"I think," said Phoebe's daughter, "that Chelsea counts as a chaperone to most of the others."
"She's thirteen," said Mary.
"Exactly! She was the second oldest the first time I met any of them, and Gretel's right hand, except when Casey was mutinying from the position of Grand Vizier."
"Casey is a troublemaker then?"
"No, more like a well-functioning temple has both a priest for the people and/or king to send messages to heaven, but also a prophet for heaven to send messages back."
"Oh, Freya, don't be blasphemous," said Phoebe.
Freya shrugged, "Not trying to, I'm just saying open channels of communication are important, and a lot of institutions intentionally separate control hierarchy or command channels, from judicial or suggestion or advocacy hierarchy or channels."
"And when they don't," said Mary, "that's what guilds and unions are for."
Freya grinned.
Phoebe sighed, "Alright, whatever. Yes, you may come and bring Chelsea, but … try not to be too surprised or insulted if they suddenly get insular against you when in large groups of themselves."
"They're teenagers," said Mary, "what else is there?"
"You're not wrong," said Phoebe, "But until recently they were motivated to think the entire world was united against them. I wouldn't blame you for waiting to re-introduce her to them until after you'd won some amount of her trust."
Freya nodded, "Or just wanted mother-daughter bonding time alone, and let them talk at school, or whatever."
Phoebe looked haunted.
"That's a good point," said Mary, "but … not offering her the choice when I know it's available, seems like a betrayal of that trust. Did I hear correctly that this is going down on Saturday?"
Freya nodded.
"Freya, would you like me along?" said Phoebe.
Freya sighed and hugged herself and sighed again.
"I wanted to go with you alone, after Christmas," said Freya, "after I'm more sure what my budget might be, and maybe there will be sales. I'm guessing this is … not going to be a time that we'll get to talk much, but if you're there to help with crowd control, I'll be able to concentrate better on giving good advice. Hell, some of them might want your advice more than mine. Yes, please come."
"Alright," said Phoebe, "you may let Andy know the schedule also. Has an itinerary been established?"
"I don't know, and if we need more or different transport to include Chelsea and Mrs Angelopoulos."
"I can drive, of course," said Mary, "And I've got four passenger seats."
Phoebe looked relieved, "That might simplify things immensely."
Freya left the room.
Phoebe looked around nervously.
"Still your crib," said Mary.
"Right, thanks," said Phoebe and looked at her hand before carefully discarding two cards, "It's your cut."
"I'm not ready yet," said Mary, and returned to staring at her cards, way too many fives and faces to count properly. She decided that two and queen were the best discards, and third of a chance (4/13) odds that a different face would turn up to replace the queen.
By the time the game was finished, (Phoebe won, Phoebe always won. At least five games out of seven. But if she kept in practice to match Phoebe, she could often win against Byron.) Freya had come back with both a list of people already going that Chelsea was likely to know and an itinerary of five department stores in Norwich, with even House of Fraser as an option if nothing else proved satisfactory. Mary had opinions about that but realised that she hadn't shopped for a teenager before and she might need to rethink several things.
Norwich was almost far enough that it might be faster to take the train.
.
When she told Chelsea that the choice was between going clothes shopping or going clothes shopping with Andy, Casey, Kirk, and their new foster families, she seemed torn.
"Why does this feel like a big decision?"
Mary sighed and sat down, "It's your decision and I'll respect it either way, but if you want me to try, I'll mention the parts of the decision that I notice being difficult, in case that helps you decide which parts are important to you, or not."
Chelsea shrugged, "Yeah, go ahead."
"It's some people that used to be your friends out of necessity. Some of them have been going to school together so their friendships have continued, soon you will also be attending the same school with … whatever fraction of them are in the correct forms to be there, it might depend on which of them you want to see and for what reasons. Some people will find clothes shopping somewhat intimate and would rather take as few people with them as possible, while others find it enjoyable, and more enjoyable to do with friends.
"I do not mind going with you all alone, or with your friend group. I want to warn you that the other children also being there with their foster families will have their focus split, not just between buying clothes, but also spending time bonding with their foster families, not just with you. If they cannot make time for you for specific conversations, try not to take it personally, you know, they need to shop for themselves also. And … I've gathered the impression that I might be one of the oldest adults there and I might be a little jaded about fashion, I might be the best or the worst person to get advice from about how to present yourself at school."
Chelsea gave her a disgusted expression.
"Depending on what persona you're trying to present, and why."
Chelsea frowned, "What is your recommended persona and how do you present it?"
"You're my daughter, you are richer than all the others combined, your every outfit could cost more than two of theirs, but you only care about impressing a very limited number of people, on a very limited number of occasions, none of whom go to school with you, none of those parties happen in this county."
Chelsea stared, "I'm willing to bet that's going to change, and when it does the foster families on this list are going to be in attendance at those parties."
"How do you figure?"
"Who told you to adopt me?" said Chelsea.
"No one," said Mary, "Chelsea what have people been telling you? I've been contemplating adopting for years, it was just when Phoebe said that she'd gotten Andy, that I regained hope that adopting was less complicated than I'd come to believe, it turns out I was right, but that's another story."
"Alright," said Chelsea, "to ask a different question, how long did it take you to adopt me?"
"Several months, do you want an exact number?"
"No," said Chelsea, "I want you to understand that some of the people on that list, waltzed into the orphanage like Baron Munchhausen and his gang, and rather than letting the staff do their careful matching paperwork to make the orphans do most of an audition for the foster family before putting them face to face, or whatever it is, they popped in, directly in front of the orphans, and auditioned for the orphans. Sort of allowed the orphans to pick them instead of the other way around, and left with the orphans who chose them! Like two hours tops. The staff was annoyed but couldn't do anything about it. That's how powerful the people you're dealing with are. Not all of them, but some of them, and when they present a united front, I think you are better off assuming that they can get around levels of red tape that should stop normal people from even trying."
"Are you talking politically connected, financially powerful, or just have really good lawyers?"
"Have you heard of the House of Black?"
"No."
Chelsea sighed, "Never mind then."
"I know that the Potter estate owns stock in almost everything around here older than fifty years."
Chelsea nodded emphatically, "Yes exactly. And Potter is marrying into the Blacks, who are like 200% richer and two thousand per cent more feared."
"Hmm?" said Mary, "feared how?"
Chelsea frowned, "My impression is that when you get rich enough that when you have normal people problems, you can just buy a new whatever it is and the fact that your old one broke stops being a problem?"
"Yes, that is true, or you can afford to purchase a subscription for the routine maintenance that your whatever-it-is may require."
Chelsea looked confused.
"Autos and swimming pools are the notorious examples of machinery that require routine maintenance, but there are many other things also."
"Alright, never mind," said Chelsea, "Or don't, maybe that is on the boundary to the next layer more powerful, some people have enough people that when there's a problem they throw people at the problem and trust that they will solve it."
Mary nodded, "Yes, did I tell you that Byron is a CEO, it is his job to think that way, though whether you choose to consider him that powerful in his own right, is a matter of perspective."
"Oh," said Chelsea, like she'd completely forgotten that fact. Or had never understood what it meant. After several more seconds, she said, "Yeah, alright."
"And are you concerned that Mr. Potter is on that level?" said Mary, "or are you noticing the power imbalance that Byron's job is one of the problems that Mr. Potter is entitled to throw people at."
Chelsea shivered.
"Not that I've ever caught him showing the slightest interest in the topic, and ideally we'd like to keep things running smoothly enough that he never needs to."
Chelsea nodded, "yeah, that's fine. I only meant to say, the Blacks are another layer more powerful, when they notice something is a problem, they're known to send mercenaries or lawyers to convince the problem to solve itself or die trying."
"That is an entirely different order of magnitude!" said Mary.
"That's what I'm trying to say!" said Chelsea, "and half I'm frightened because the rumours were that the Blacks were all dead. But apparently not! And half I'm nervous because the alliance to Potters is new and unexpected, and because I can't quite figure if Lord Potter is aspiring to become one of those mercenaries or one of those lawyers."
"Ah," breathed Mary and relaxed. That brought things full circle, back to teenagers feeling their oats and seeking approval. There were better and worse places to seek that approval, but almost always seeking the approval and guidance of an established member of society was less randomly destructive than someone lashing out against whatever fence or support beam they didn't understand the purpose of.
"Now do you understand?" said Chelsea.
Mary nodded, "I understand why you are concerned, and now you've primed me exactly what kind of signs I should be watching out for and what kinds of gossip I should be listening for."
Chelsea shook her head, "you won't see the Blacks coming." She shivered, "But maybe … if there is an alliance with Lord Potter, we'll be left alone out of respect, or something. If it is a real alliance. The Blacks are subtle, until the moment they choose not to be, sometimes that's the last moment (your last moment), and sometimes it's decades after you are gone when they celebrate their victory. And the fraction of society that pays attention suddenly wonders if the terrible reputation that you died of had any truth to it after all."
"And yet," said Mary, "Society still exists, if they are so all-powerful, society must already look very near what they wish it to look like."
Chelsea looked sick.
"At least," said Mary, "on the surfaces that they can see."
"Oh," said Chelsea, "That's … huh, alright."
"Your entire life doesn't need to be perfect to the conflicting judgement of all 7 billion people in the world," said Mary, "It only needs to be admirable (or adequately ignorable) to the few thousand you need to interact with, or who need to interact with you."
"Adequately ignorable," said Chelsea, "That sounds dangerously possible."
Mary nodded, "That's why admirable is also an option, for when you're looking for a bit of a challenge to spice things up."
Chelsea smiled, "Yeah, alright."
"Good," said Mary, "now do you have an adequate target to start planning your wardrobe/shopping list towards, or would you like to join me in an ice cream first?"
"Ice cream? Ma'am, it's December!"
"I try not to let that stop me," said Mary, "and did you just call me Mum?"
"No, I called you Ma'am," said Chelsea tensing up, "umm, sorry?"
"It's not a problem," said Mary, "we'll find what we're both comfortable with eventually."
Chelsea relaxed. And smiled into her hand, possibly mischievously.
"(But Mum is an option that could make sense,)" said Mary.
"And would be adequately ignorable by thousands?" suggested Chelsea.
"Adequately," agreed Mary, but I could never ignore it. "Anyway, Ice Cream?"
"Yes, please," said Chelsea.
.
...-...
Shopping and Scheduling
They finally shook off the muggle woman and hiked back to the nearest public floo (conveniently close to the train station as to throw off suspicion.)
Five minutes later they were back in Potter Manor and Padma could help carry Casey's new clothes up to her room.
Harry met them on the landing looking unutterably smug but also furtive. Given the proximity to the holiday that was probably a good sign. But Padma intended to check up on him anyway, the question was how.
They put down the bags.
"Casey, would you like help putting all this away?"
"Yes?" said Casey, "But I'd kind of like a nap first."
"Certainly," said Padma, "I'll leave you to it."
"No!" said Casey with a whimper.
"Huh?"
"I'm glad that's over," said Casey, "The shopping I mean, but … also, already missing them."
"After your nap and putting your clothes away, Do you want to look in on Kirk and them to see if they want help organising too?"
Casey smiled sadly, "I don't want more Kirk and Ronnie time, I want more Kirk and Ronnie time with Chelsea between us for a buffer."
Padma snorted, "that I can understand."
"Silver does not buffer the same way, or at all."
Padma nodded, "True. What do you want to do with the rest of your day?"
Casey turned away to stare at the wall, "Can I have a nap without you going away?"
"Hmm, maybe. Do you want me snuggled in with you, I have a feeling you want about three-quarters of an hour more nap than I want. Though once I get started, who knows."
Casey's lips twitched, but she narrowed her eyes, "You want to take notes on half a hundred different things and then nap, why don't you go get your notebook, and sit in my armchair until you finish taking notes, and then nap with me?"
Just like in the library, except adjusted for Casey's room.
"Alright," Padma agreed, "Give me five or ten minutes. I had half a sense that Harry might interrupt me on my way to the library."
"That's alright," said Casey and started kicking off shoes and stockings.
.
Harry did not stop her on the way to the library. He wasn't even visible. Despite how much she wanted to tell him how much he owed her for leaving the house to participate in orphan errands when he'd already assigned her other errands when this morning might have been the only reasonable time she could have escaped her sister's notice long enough to complete one of them.
As she made her way back she chanced to ask Wotcher where he was, and where he'd been in the last six hours. He'd floo'ed away and back several times, including breaking into Padma's bedroom. Also, he'd accepted delivery and supervised and assisted several deliverymen moving something huge upstairs and into one of the sitting rooms on the second floor. He was there now sitting across the room from it.
Padma sought him out there. The room was not at all how she'd left it. The two library tables that had been in the middle of the room, making it usable as a conference room had been shifted to the side wall, their chairs had been spread out along the wall, and three armchairs had been brought in to flank the sofa to make an actual sitting area. But that was hardly the most eye-catching difference.
"Since when do we have a Christmas tree?"
"Luna and Gwen, two days ago," said Harry without looking up. Then he did look up and whispered, "Is it a problem?"
"Not precisely," said Padma, "I just wasn't sure whether we were going to be doing the Christmas thing or the Yule thing."
"I don't have a problem with either one," said Harry, "But … I had the feeling that thanks to my impulsiveness and lack of timing last year it might be easiest to do anniversary things on Yule, and holiday things on Christmas."
"Ah, fair enough," said Padma, "conversely, as long as the real wedding isn't on Yule, that will eventually open up Yule as an option."
"True," said Harry, "I think the plan is centring towards late August after Ginny turns 17 or early July after she graduates."
"Don't do that to her," said Padma, "Both of them are too impatient to wait the extra 10 months, and it would be better not to split Ginny's focus between a wedding and her quidditch recruitment on the same summer."
"Heh, you're right," he said, "But that means making Parvati look for employment and plan a wedding on the same summer instead."
Padma shook her head, "First of all, I expect that Parvati won't 'seek employment,' she'll purchase her way into a career. Probably selling potions recipes to Fleamont's. Second of all, I don't think she'll be nearly as uptight about the wedding, Maybe I'm projecting, but I imagine Ginny and Molly designing the aesthetics of everything and Mom and Parvati running operations behind the scenes, making sure we have enough napkins and cutlery."
Harry stared, "Really? I think of Ginny as the practical one and Parvati as the one who works at dressing nice."
Padma nodded, "With the result that Parvati can look nice any day of the week. Nothing about looking nice on that day will stress her out or require her to worry. But it will for Ginny and Molly. Whereas you could hire caterers anywhere, Mom and Parvati don't need to stress about it, but they will. Molly cooks to de-stress, she's not going to stress about the food, just ask how many mouths there are and multiply and invest in stasis charms."
Harry frowned, "You think that there would be a lot less stress all the way around if I figured out how to ask Molly to cater and Parvati to pick out the clothes?"
Padma smiled, "Oh, I imagine that they each could manage all of it, I'm just guessing who will stress more about what. And maybe half the point of making a production of it all is bringing the families together to run a combined project together. Maybe don't rob them of the chance? I don't know, maybe I'm just projecting."
Harry smiled, "Maybe."
"Also," said Padma, "Black hair goes with every colour, letting Ginny find clothes that complement her is probably the political thing to do."
"Hell," said Harry, "You're right." But then he frowned, "The Patil complexion doesn't seem all that much easier, and it changes slightly over the seasons."
Padma scratched her cheek, "Possibly, never worried about it much, it goes with all my favourite colours." She shrugged, "Alright, never mind, forget I said anything."
"Right," said Harry, "and it's a year and a half away regardless, and after that, we can partition Yule things from Christmas things if we so choose."
Padma nodded, "What I was trying to get at is that … Well I've had the feeling that Yule might be more directly connected to your deepest psyche."
"No idea," said Harry, "I may need to research more."
Padma nodded seriously, "Though the two get mixed up enough already if you choose to do Yule things on Christmas, I don't think many people will object."
Harry shrugged.
Padma motioned at the big gift-wrapped package in the centre of the far wall, it was taller than Padma's hip, and portraits had been rearranged to make room for it, which implied it was meant to stay there after it was unwrapped.
It was completely rectangular, and the box in front of it was as well, just the right height for sitting.
"Oh god, Harry," said Padma, "Is that new or used?"
"No fair guessing already," said Harry.
"Should have wrapped the bench inside the piano, or put it in a different colour paper, or something."
"Oh!" he said, "Yeah, I could still re-wrap it."
"Might be good," said Padma, "Or I might insist on opening it for Yule so that we can enjoy it all hols."
"I will not dictate otherwise," said Harry, "the movers said after it's gotten used to the local humidity for three days to tune it again."
"Sounds fun," said Padma, "speaking of, should I infer that the reason you went into my room was to drop off Parvati's violin?"
"(And I'm supposed to be the slytherin one in this house,)" pouted Harry, "Yes, it is, I slid it under your bed, in case you had company the first time you opened your door."
"You are the slytherin one in the family," said Padma, "Not counting Margaid and Nim, and the point of ravenclaws is to keep watch and notify the gryffindors when you're getting away with something you shouldn't."
"Normally, I'd agree with you," said Harry, "but right now I'm too annoyed that you saw through my wiles so quickly."
"It helped that I saw how many movers you needed to bring it inside and upstairs. And I have no idea what that is, but it looks musical also unless it is a toy submersible for Hunter. It reeks of about that much magic."
"It is not a toy submersible," said Harry, "and it is magic, and it is a musical instrument."
Padma looked at him.
"I'm not sure whether to tell you so that you can warn me that Parvati will hate it. Or love it so much that you'd rather give her her violin the moment you finish tuning it so that she can receive them separately and therefore enjoy them both more."
Padma blinked several times. I exist to give people advice, Harry, I can't give good advice without adequate information. "Tell me."
"It's an eight-string organistrum."
"A what?"
"It's like a hurdy-gurdy, but with more strings and magical assistance to turn the bow wheel."
"Oh! I saw those in Diagon once," said Padma, "couldn't decide whether I liked it or not."
Harry grinned, "Depending on how it is played, it can sound like a violin or a fiddle, or like a bagpipe or pipe organ. I had the feeling she'd like pipe organ music."
Padma stared at him, "She does, but she hates keyboards, violins refuse to play more than three notes at once, drastically limiting the number of mistakes you can make at the same time."
"Then this will either be the best or the worst of both worlds," said Harry, "it has a keyboard, but I think it can't play more than two keys at once."
Padma nodded, "Yeah, I'll pull out her violin and ask for her help when I start tuning my piano."
My piano, my piano, started echoing through her head, my piano, my piano, my piano.
Padma leaned over and kissed him.
He returned the kiss and slipped his hands around her waist, inviting her to sit down. She almost went with that. But no, her hands were full of notebook and her next hour was full of easing Casey down off her unwanted extroversion high.
She broke the kiss.
Harry seemed to know something was up but no idea what. "What was that for?" He finally managed to ask.
"Thank you for my piano," she said.
"You're welcome," he said.
"I want to open it up right away," she said, "But I need to keep Casey company more, and it needs to acclimate to the house."
Harry nodded. Not like he believed it, but like enough experts had told him, that he wouldn't dare to argue.
.
Padma made her way back to Casey's room.
When she'd finished taking notes she lay down also, she didn't undress or get under the covers, that felt like an invasion she didn't wish to perpetrate without Casey awake to supervise.
It occurred to her that Harry had never answered the question of whether the piano was new or second-hand. Not that it mattered if it was well cared for. Or it mattered a lot if it was not.
The over-concerned look on his face when she'd asked implied that he knew enough to be concerned. Therefore he'd probably considered the question carefully enough that she didn't need to worry about it, either it would tune properly, and it didn't matter, or it would not and she'd be no worse off than without it, except that disappointed, and he'd be out however much he'd paid for it.
The difficult question was what care did it need while she was away at school. The house was temperature-controlled, but she had no reason to expect it to be humidity-controlled. Not that she had specific evidence against it either.
Were there wards available for that?
She sat up and took more notes.
.
...-...
Presence and Presents
"I want to do something to connect with the community, otherwise I will go entirely mad for missing out on things I know are happening in Ottery St Catchpole," said Ginny.
"You can still go to those things," said Parvati, "And invite as many of us with you as you want."
"I suppose," said Ginny, "I just … I know there must be similar things happening around here, but I don't know what they are or when or where and don't have anyone to invite me. Mrs Windrow appears not to be the type. I don't know who else to ask. I thought of joining a church, but I did not want to start any jealousy or gossip by choosing the wrong one. If we lived much closer to just one village it would seem less of an insult to the other village, you know. And I don't understand the different denominations."
"I'm not bored enough to join a library book club," said Parvati, "give me twenty years."
Ginny snorted.
"Also that might not bring in the invitations you want until next year," said Parvati and yawned theatrically.
"Some people have card clubs," said Luna, "Freya was teaching me some games."
"Bet the muggles wouldn't take kindly to exploding snap," said Ginny, "nor quadpot."
"We could learn football," said Luna, "I hear it's big with kids our age."
Padma stuck her head in, "Parvati? Oh, everyone! Come to the tree room, Harry ordered me to open my present early, so everyone gets to open one. Parvati, you'll forgive me but I have an ulterior motive for picking which one you get early."
.
There was a quick exodus, and soon they were settled.
Everyone seemed to have a different idea of who got to open what, (including Gwen grumpily complaining that all the little ones had gotten their clothes both unwrapped and much too early.) Probably she was pretending. Parvati didn't know her that well. Perhaps she was merely reminding them to say thank you eventually.
Harry seemed to want Luna to go first but was unwilling to dictate.
"How about youngest opens first," said Parvati loud enough to cut through everyone, "The real question is how presents are selected."
"Agreed," said Harry, "They've already gotten their presents from me, someone else gets to decide about them."
"Me!" said Casey.
Everyone thought that wasn't right, but no one seemed to have a better idea, so Casey spelunked for the correct presents for Kirk, herself, and Robbie. In the middle of that Harry told her to keep out the box she was holding.
So she read that and added it to the pile.
It turned out to be for Mr Pasternak, who wasn't present. Robbie ran off to get him.
Meanwhile, Harry, Padma, and Luna selected what everyone else would get.
Harry and Padma seemed to have collaborated about Lionskeep members but hadn't foreseen Gwen and Eirian and co being a part of this. But Luna and Ginny had, sort of, but maybe Ginny hadn't done any shopping yet?
"What's all this then?" said Mr Pasternak.
So Padma explained that a) Parts of the Mage world celebrate Yule on the solstice, (the day after tomorrow) instead of Christmas, a holiday about a different part of community building, and b) Harry's engagement anniversary was on Yule, engagements being about yet a third kind of community building. So Harry had suggested and she'd ratified that (at least this year,) some of the gifts were being given now instead of waiting until the 25th. And (maybe, but not necessarily,) the gifts might be slightly less towards only the recipient's joy, and slightly more towards helping each recipient bring joy to everyone.
Meanwhile, Luna had taken Harry aside, and come back to put Mr Pasternak's little present back under the tree, and pulled out a different much bigger one.
And then they were passed out.
Robbie got a set of coloured pencils and charcoals. And Kirk a set of brushes and paints, both from Gwen.
Casey got a book from Padma.
Luna got a huge box, which she shook hard and complained that it seemed much too quiet. Then she opened it.
It was a complete set of mix-and-match wind chimes and 6 hangers for them, two each for a 4-note, 6-note, and 8-note chord.
There was no way that had been quiet, even packed in a red velvet-lined case as it was. Luna seemed entirely unsurprised and already plotting which chords she wanted to make and where she wanted them each to hang.
Ginny received a wizarding wireless. Which made her smile in a very different way than Parvati had predicted.
"You may notice a bit of a theme here," said Padma, "And Harry is going to receive a music-related gift later, but for today, something else seemed more appropriate."
She passed over a lumpy package.
"Someone has been spying on me," pouted Ginny.
Harry opened it.
"A white balaclava," said Harry, "are you sure this wasn't for … oh dear Merlin."
He turned it the other way out and put it on. It was a knit wig-and-whisker mask.
"Merlin?" said Gwen, "Or Saint Nicolas?"
"Saint Nicolas," said Parvati, "He already has the invisibility cloak, who else could he be."
"Saint Nicolas," agreed Ginny.
"On that note," said Padma, "Darling sister, I had him steal something for you. (for me, for you, whichever.)"
She plopped Parvati's violin case in her lap.
Ok, That brings everything back to that conversation on the train, (also, how the hell did he get into my room at my parents' house?) But she didn't say that. Instead, she flipped it open and said brightly, "Already tuned?"
"Yes," Padma agreed before Parvati could even pluck a string to check.
She plucked them each anyway. They were all perfect.
"Thank you, Padma," said Parvati, "you're the best."
"Intermittently," Padma agreed and contradicted at once, "would you help me with my present?"
Parvati raised an eyebrow, and Padma motioned to the pile of presents that weren't under the tree. Except it had been re-arranged, the boat-shaped one had been relocated to the side, and the blender-shaped one had been Ginny's new wireless.
"Sure," said Parvati, but somehow, crossing the room with her violin case in hand, she recognised exactly what could fit in two boxes those sizes.
"Hell," said Parvati, "Who is it from?"
"I give you one guess," said Padma, "Who else has so skewed a sense of proportion."
"Oh, he seems very well adjusted," said Parvati.
Padma spun around to stare.
"—Compared to his godfather." finished Parvati.
Padma raised a finger while she thought, then nodded sideways, "Point, I guess we have that to look forward to."
"Huh?"
"If that is the example he's trying to emulate," explained Padma.
"I can't tell," Harry was murmuring from across the room, "whether I should object, or double down somehow."
"On what grounds?" said Ginny.
"Well," said Harry, "It's significantly less valuable than what I spent on gifts last Yule."
Soon the upright piano was unwrapped.
Parvati wondered slightly that it wasn't a grand piano. But Harry was practical like that, function over form and ostentation.
Also he might have picked it out specifically for this location, a cosy sitting room, not the ballroom downstairs.
Padma struck a few keys, and called out, "Was it tuned before it was moved?"
"I believe so," said Harry, "why?"
"From what you said I expected it to be farther out of tune, the humidity here must agree with it."
"He told you what your present was going to be?" accused Parvati.
"No, I guessed what it was, and demanded intelligence that it had been delivered correctly."
"Ah, that's alright then," said Parvati.
"Alright," said Mr Pasternak, "if a piano is less expensive than what he bought last year, what did he buy last year?"
"Us," said Ginny, "Two million dowry. Each."
He let out a low whistle, "Now I'm afraid to open my present."
"Don't worry," said Gwen, "That one is from Eirian and me."
"Oh, that's alright then," he bent to the task of unwrapping it and getting it open, "Oh, wow," he said.
"What is it?" said Robbie.
"Wood chisels," he said, "an extremely wide selection of types and shapes." He fingered one and frowned, "Dull as hell."
"No! Don't," said Gwen.
Eirian grunted, "They should be close to razor-sharp, if not sharper."
"Just," explained Gwen, "Enchanted to never cut skin unintentionally."
He adjusted his grip. He stared at them, and adjusted his grip some more, then drew it gently along his arm. And nodded, muttering, "Impressive, what do you know?" He switched to a different chisel, and after thinking carefully about the angle for several seconds, he trimmed one of his nails and examined the results. "Very impressive, thank you both."
They smiled in embarrassment.
"Um?" said Ginny, "What about Nim? Did we skip her?"
Everyone looked at Harry.
Harry stared into space, "Nim has requested I cover the cost of the silver knife, granite cauldron and burnt dragon bone chalk she just contributed to something she's … being coy about."
"Harry?" said Padma, "Each of those things is … kind of ominous by themselves, All of them together?" she looked at Parvati.
Parvati just nodded. The sorts of rituals and potions that were … Not for the faint of heart in the absolute best case. In the worst case? It didn't bear thinking about.
Harry chewed his lips, "Well, that will bear looking into, I take it?"
"Are there specific events in the next week," said Mr Pasternak, "which require my presence, either as a participant or as security?"
"First tell me when you want off, and we'll work around it," said Harry.
"I was thinking of spending some time with my family in Chicago, the more the better, I guess."
"So be it," said Harry.
"Are you sure, I hear rumours of a Christmas Eve Gala being traditional. With officers of your corporations and charities in attendance and anyone else you can think to invite."
Ginny sprang up and spun to face him, "Tell me more!"
He shrugged, "I couldn't give you exact details, but I noticed a lot of veiled mentions of poor people and weirdos, I suspect it was a time used to force your mage friends to interact with mundanes, and your corporate magnates to interact with your homeless or food insecure or whatever, I had the feeling Potter, that about half your ancestors were evangelically communist or some such."
There was a long awkward silence, and then Ginny started cackling maniacally.
Harry just smirked until she had quieted down, then he said, "Mr Pasternak, I'd be much obliged if you could give me the names where you heard those rumours. If we are going to replicate such a fine tradition it would behove us to learn all the memorable details before we get too far."
"Let me get my notes," Mr Pasternak grumbled and left the room, taking his case of chisels with him.
Ginny was still rocking herself in excitement, either about hosting a party or about finding out that Harry's ancestors dabbled with their own private brand of blood treachery.
Luna seemed to be keeping an eye on her. Fine.
Parvati turned to Padma, who had opened the back of her upright piano and was inspecting the felt.
Parvati leaned closer and looked around. Knowing what Padma wanted to do next, but not seeing where … Oh there! She circled to the other end and reached in to pull out the envelope. She held it out to Padma.
Padma opened it and extracted the guitar pick and the tiny crank handle.
That wasn't the kind of tuning wrench that Aunt Sarit's piano had, but whatever.
"Are you going to try this by ear?" said Parvati.
"No," said Padma, "Yes? But not today? Today I'm just going to mark which strings seem off, and come back tomorrow with more equipment to figure out what to do about each one."
"Ah, sure," said Parvati.
.
So they worked on that. Eventually, they were alone.
"Padma?" said Parvati, "What did you get Harry?"
"Huh?"
"You said, it was something music-related, for Harry."
"Oh, voice lessons over the summer. The teacher was dumbfounded when I suggested every weekday afternoon would be a normal schedule for the way Harry does summer intensives. Then she looked at me offended and asked me if she was being hired to run a music camp for a single student. I said 'yes,' and asked if she would feel better if more children showed up uninvited. She wrinkled her nose like anything, then agreed that would be fine, but she'd be invoicing from a different fee schedule in that case, also how many more children? So there might be an additional teacher to help with overflow, she's checking his availability, and I'm to figure out how many are likely to try to audit."
"Nice," said Parvati.
"Are you going to umm? Never mind."
"What?"
"When you get your other musical instrument, I want to know if you're taking it to school. (I'm not taking mine, of course. Pianos are notorious for not taking kindly to shrinking charms, very careful space expansion is the only way, and I don't have anything that big. Other stringed instruments can in theory be loosened slightly and travel fine and be tuned again on the far side. But not pianos and other harps, not just because that is a daunting number of strings to re-tune, but because the harp's shape is partly maintained by the tension of the strings, loosening them for transport would change its shape, and tuning it again wouldn't just be a case of tightening them the same amount, but tightening them in the right order to re-establish its shape or whatever.)"
"Oh good grief," said Parvati, "I guess I'll have to think about it."
.
...-...
{End Chapter 12}