Chapter 24 - Sometimes life is a decision.
December 24, 2005
It was close to eight when they got back from their long, delightful walk through the woods. Deirdre was shocked, thrilled, and terribly nervous that he'd actually said out loud that he wanted to give them another go. She almost just said yes straight away, but those old niggling fears held her back. She wanted to be brave about it all, she really did. But she also wanted to be clear headed about reality and make a wise choice. Mostly because if things didn't work out this time she didn't think she could handle being a part of the pack at all. She had to say she'd think about it because the fear of mucking up everything was almost paralyzing. Don't be a bloody coward, she heard Gemma say in her head. I won't be a coward, she promised herself. I won't. But I won't rush into anything either.
The dining hall was already full of people starting on breakfast and getting the itinerary for the day. Hawthorne was strategizing with Joel and George about the massive snowball fight that was planned to start at nine o'clock. They'd decided to try the men against the women, since their numbers were closer to even than they'd ever been. Kieran was explaining to ten year old Colleen, who was a bit of a princess, that her hair would not be badly mussed in the fight and even if it was she'd have ample time to fix it again. Jane and Artemis had organized a gingerbread house decorating station at one end of the room, the youngest boys already attempting to steal some of the candy decorations from the little bowls filled with brightly colored temptations. Remus, who had been sitting beside his daughter Ana, the two buried in books with a cold pot of tea between them, had looked up when Artemis called his name, honed in on the candy snatchers and stopped three year old Conor with a flick of his wand, levitating his son away from the candy and back to his breakfast plate, a trail of sweets falling from his hands along the way. Ana, who was eight, paused, took the piece of chocolate offered by her sticky-fingered brother, popped it in her mouth and went right back to her book. Joshua and Daisy were talking together at one end of a table, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair back from her face, his face tender.
Gareth and Deirdre just stood near the doorway for a while, taking it all in. "I can't believe I avoided all this for so long," he murmured, almost to himself. "I didn't realize how much I missed it." He sounded so…so full of wonder. She nudged him with her shoulder, just pressing herself a bit closer, and he looked down at her with much the same expression she'd just seen Joshua share with Daisy. "Thanks for not giving up on me," he said.
"Morning," Xavier said, coming in behind them and interrupting whatever might have followed. He stopped inside the door, slinging their five year old, Nathaniel, who had been hanging on his back, down to the floor. The boy ran off to join Remus' six year old Leo, who was playing with toy soldiers in front of the Christmas tree. "We'll start the poker tournament after lunch. That way the younger kids can go down for naps and the older ones can go out sledding. Are you in, Gareth?"
"Of course he's in," said Catherine, coming in carrying two-year old Caleb. "But after that the five of us need just a little time to practice before dinner. It's been too long since we all played together, and there's supposed to be dancing and then all the Christmas carols."
Gareth leaned close to Deirdre and whispered, "So if I ask you to dance later will you say yes this time?"
Deirdre swallowed. It was entirely unfair that just his voice could make her stomach all twisty and her skin shivery. The first New Year's Eve after the war Isabel had dragged the whole family down to her friend Nick's karaoke bar for a party. Gareth had sung an old song with some line in it about dancing leading the way to romance. And just a couple weeks later he'd asked her to go dancing for the first time. And that was when she had really understood what the song meant. Oh she'd heard the words, but had never connected it with a feeling. But goodness did she after that! He'd led her through the dance steps, singing along with the song the band was playing, his voice rich and sultry in her ear.
She took a step backwards, just to give her brain a moment to focus on the real question and not the soppy feelings. He frowned as she pulled away. "Sorry, I shouldn't rush you," he said quickly. "I am trying to go slow, I just…"
"Yes," she said a little breathlessly. "If you ask me I'll say yes."
The frown shifted to a flicker of confusion and then…could she say it looked like delight? That he seemed ever so pleased to hear her say she'd dance with him? I won't have to worry about being a coward if he keeps looking at me like that, she thought to herself, unable to tell if the fluttery feeling accompanying the thought was anxiety or anticipation. Far from it. I'll likely never make a wise decision again!
She cleared her throat and took another step away from him. "I think I ought to see if Jane needs help in the kitchen."
They all cleared the doorway in time for Sirius and Lina to arrive with Professor Snape and Professor Price. Sirius had his arm slung over Professor Snape's shoulder and was clearly in the middle of try to convince him of something. The man looked as stiff and uncomfortable as she'd ever seen him
"But just picture it!" Sirius exclaimed. "The scene where he says he should be boiled in his own pudding with a stake of holly through his heart! Can't you see it! You'd deliver that line perfectly! And I'm going to cast George as Fred—" Sirius then interrupted himself with a short bark of laughter. "Cast George as Fred!"
"Black you are absolutely mad," Professor Snape said sharply. "I utterly refuse."
"Very well, very well," Sirius said, waving his hands as though the matter was inconsequential. "Hawthorne will do it. I have an even better idea…"
Lina and Professor Price exchanged a look behind them, Lina's was more exasperated, but Professor Price was clearly trying to hold back laughter. Lina followed Deirdre to the kitchen. "Sirius has decided to stage a simple version of A Christmas Carol to be performed this evening," she announced to the room at large, shaking her head as she went straight to the pot of coffee.
"Jane, how can I help?" Deirdre asked, reaching for one of the aprons hanging on a row of hooks near the pass through window.
Whatever Jane was about to say was interrupted by a terrible metallic grinding and scraping sound coming from the large commercial mixer, spinning away with pancake batter. "Argh! Xavier, can you come look at this?!" She yelled through the window to the dining room.
Xavier stepped through into the kitchen, several others peering in to see what the commotion was about. The mixer was trying valiantly to continue its task, despite the sparks and smoke coming from it. Xavier yanked the plug out of the wall socket and waited for the machine to stop spinning. But it didn't. He groaned and shook his head. "Too much magic," he said. "This thing was used to working around just a few magic users. All the juice y'all have going on here has overloaded it."
Jane cast an immobulous spell and the machine finally held still. Xavier ran a hand over his chin and gave her a sad smile. "Hezekiah put all the spells in place to protect the works inside from the magic. I guess after so many years they just sort of ran down."
"I should have remembered that," Jane said gently, giving Xavier's arm a pat. "Some charm work doesn't keep once the caster moves on."
For a moment it seemed no one knew what to do or say. That didn't happen too often any more. They were used to speaking of the pack members who had given their lives in the war: Rosa and Oscar, Xander and Hezekiah. They forced themselves to keep talking about them, to remember, until the impact of the memories wasn't quite so jarring.
"Xavier, if you want to take the thing apart I can call my people and see if they could talk me through reinsulating the electronic components," Gareth offered from the doorway. Everyone turned to look at him expectantly. "I, uh, have a team who works on that," he added quietly, as though trying to gauge the room. "I explained to them what Hezekiah did and they researched and started creating spells and manufacturing pre-insulated components…" his voice trailed off and he glanced around.
"And the parts work brilliantly," George announced loudly from where he was watching, leaning in on the ledge of the pass-through window. "I know I'm the only tradesman of the lot, so I'm also the only one really paying attention to global production standards, but Gareth has basically revolutionized magical industry as we know it. If anyone is interested."
There was a silent pause as Deirdre watched several people turn and look at each other in surprise, then eye Gareth, nodding with new respect.
"Well, let me grab some tools from the supply closet and we'll give it a shot," Xavier said, clapping Gareth on the shoulder.
Gareth pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. After a moment someone must have answered because Gareth began chatting away in Spanish, a smile brightening his face. Deirdre leaned against the counter watching him. Xavier unscrewed the plate covering the works inside the machine and Gareth bent down to peer into it, apparently giving the person on the other end of the phone a description of the damage.
Jane dished up the rest of the food that was ready and handed Deirdre a platter to take around. Leaving Gareth to his repair job in the kitchen, she began passing out plates, her mind totally preoccupied with what had just happened. She'd known Gareth must have been good at his job, he was clever and good with people. But she hadn't given much thought to what he did. And then George went and announced that Gareth's work had a global impact. Global?
Part of her thought that would probably make things harder for her. Not only would she have to consider Peruvian or British politicians and billionaires, she would have to consider mingling with toffs from all over the world. People who would know Gareth's name and reputation in business. The idea should cause her absolute terror. But she couldn't quite reach a feeling of terror. It was probably down there and would pop up at an inopportune moment, but for now she was only immensely proud of him, and pleased that George had told everyone about the impact he was having.
And perhaps because she was carried away by those feelings, she served Professor Snape his breakfast last and then slid into the seat at the table beside him.
"Pardon me, Professor, but could I have a word?" she asked.
With a newspaper in front of him and a tea cup halfway to his lips, the Professor paused and shot her an irritated look. "Very well," he sighed, setting down the cup.
"I know you taught Gareth before he took over the company," she said, clutching her hands in her lap to stop them from plucking nervously at the edge of her jumper, "about wizarding society in Peru and how to fit in, and I wondered ifyouwouldteachmetoo." The last words all came out in a rush and she watched him to see how he would react.
He set the newspaper to one side and leaned forward, tenting his fingers together. His face was perfectly impassive, and Deirdre hoped hers was as well, two masked actors trying to decide how to play off the other.
"Are you familiar with the Hogwarts Sorting Hat?" he finally asked.
She nodded. "My mum was a Gryffindor, although I did wonder if that Hat was right all the time. She didn't seem to have much nerve, at least, not enough to really face life. She seemed to spend a lot of effort running away from it."
"I asked Gareth to try on the Sorting Hat before I agreed to teach him," Professor Snape said, completely ignoring her commentary on her mother. "As I informed Ms. Laurent at the time, one cannot make Slytherin silk out of a Hufflepuff's ear." He paused and waited for her to respond. She wondered if this were some sort of test, to see if her answers would affect his answer to her question. It seemed apparent that if Gareth had been overly Hufflepuff Professor Snape might have refused.
"So you only agreed to teach him because he was sorted into Slytherin?"
"Not exactly. I did not let the Hat make a House determination. As he was an adult and not attending it was irrelevant which House the Hat chose. I simply wanted its opinion on how his inherent tendencies had been impacted by his upbringing."
She thought maybe she'd caught a glimmer of what he meant. "You wanted to see what raw material you had to work with," she said slowly. "Travers versus Rodriguez. Nature versus nurture."
"Precisely."
"And what did the Hat say?" she asked, wondering if he would think her curiosity rude.
Professor Snape sat back in his chair, glancing to the ceiling as he thought. "The Hat said he was a jumbled mess, because being an adult he had learned behaviors that compensated for his natural tendencies."
"That makes sense," she nodded. "That's growing up, isn't it? You learn your own strengths and weaknesses and try to accommodate them. But you must have seen enough that you were willing to work with him?"
He inclined his head. "The Hat saw that he was fiercely loyal and had a slight desire for vengeance. He was clever and wiling to work hard, had plenty of nerve and could be ambitious if the focus of the ambition was specific."
"But the Hat wouldn't work on me," Deirdre said, cutting to what she thought would be his next statement. "because I don't have magic. So do you see anything that would make it worth your while to teach me how to act and speak around the sort of people Gareth comes in contact with all the time?"
Professor Price, who had been sitting and watching the exchange with open curiosity, placed her hand over Deirdre's and smiled. "He does," she said confidently.
Deirdre looked at her in surprise and even Professor Snape had arched one sharply angled eyebrow. "How do you know that?" she asked softly.
"He never would have let the conversation go on this long otherwise," she replied, her tone dry, and looked to Professor Snape as though daring him to deny it.
The professor looked a little disgruntled, but gave a stiff nod. "If this is the course you have determined, then we can schedule something after the holidays," he offered, a little coldly.
Deirdre gave him a small smile. "I don't know that I had determined it until right now," she said, a little sheepishly. "If you'd said I was hopeless, then no matter how much I wanted it, I don't think I could've gone through with it. It feels like my whole life things have never quite worked out the way I wished they would. But if you think it's possible, then I think he's worth that, me giving it my best effort, I mean."
"Bravo," smiled Professor Price. "I'll look forward to following your progress. It isn't every day that someone decides to face their fears and take steps to not live as if they're in bondage to them." She turned and gave Professor Snape a significant sort of look, and Professor Snape looked so startled that Deirdre thought she'd best leave them to themselves. So she muttered a quick thank you and left, taking the tray with her back to the kitchen.
Grabbing a cup of tea and a plate for herself, she paused to watch the chaos and the hilarity currently taking place around the disassembled mixer. Gareth's phone was on speaker, someone apparently giving him directions in Spanish. He was focused in on the little bits of wire and pieces of the motor, murmuring an assortment of spells that lit the room in between replying to the phone call in Spanish and to Xavier in English as his brother-in-law tried to reconfigure the parts after Gareth charmed them. Unfortunately the mixer was old enough and had been held together by magic long enough that it had some level of self-determination that made it rather contrary. It kept shifting pieces out of Xavier's reach or turning itself to avoid Gareth's spells. The men didn't seem to know whether to laugh or shout in frustration.
"Good luck," she whispered as she ducked around them back to the dining hall. She slid into a chair with Remus' family, eager to dig into the food.
"Deirdre!" called Sirius as he hurried from the other end of the room to join them.
Remus looked up from his book and gave her an apologetic glance. Sorry, he mouthed silently, nodding towards Sirius.
"Deirdre, my dulcet darling, I have saved the perfect part just for you!" he sang out, grabbing a chair and crowding in next to her. "How would you like to be the Ghost of Christmas Past?"
"I pass," she said, shaking her head firmly as she grasped the cup of tea in front of her as if to ward him off. "In fact I can't think of anything I would less like to do than perform anything in front of anyone." Sirius immediately began to turn down his lip, his expression wounded. "But I would be an enthusiastic audience member and applauder," she offered.
Sirius smiled and banged his hand down on the table, "Accepted," he pronounced. "You're a good egg…Egg..that's it!" He jumped up from the table, Professor Eglantine Price marked as his next victim.
"You're better at saying no than I am," Remus said with a rueful smile, setting his book down and pouring himself a fresh cuppa from the pot.
The import of what had just happened and what Professor Snape agreed to do hit her full force, and she felt her heart start to race, the teacup trembled slightly as she set it down with a clatter. "Remus, I asked Professor Snape to help me learn how to fit in better with wizarding society, like he did for Gareth," she said abruptly. "I don't know what I was thinking, that's absolutely mad. If I can't even perform a…a pantomime in front of people I know…"
He stirred milk into his tea, clearly considering her question. How did he do that? Stay calm and think through things logically instead of being swept up in the moment?But she was grateful that he took the time to think about it and didn't just spout out a conciliatory answer, she needed someone to be more reasonable about it. She felt like she was clinging to the pendulum of a clock, swinging back and forth each moment between her fears and her desires. "I don't think the two situations are equivalent," he said after he'd tasted the tea. "There is no motivation beyond doing Sirius an unnecessary kindness to perform in his play. Whereas there is a very strong motive for you to feel more confident and capable in Gareth's world. So no, I don't think it's mad. It could be considered a wise move if you are certain that he is what you want."
Something about the last statement made her pause and look at him. "I am certain about him," she said slowly. "It's just his…his lifestyle that frightens me, dealing with people like those travel officials."
Remus nodded. "If it helps, Gareth is also concerned about you having to deal with that. He doesn't want to put you in a position where you are treated badly, but his lifestyle is going to require you to…perform, for lack of a better word, in situations that might feel uncomfortable. If you're willing to do that, then, as I said, seeking Severus' help is a wise move."
Deirdre tapped her fingers on the edge of the tea cup. "Do you think I can do it? I mean, I don't want to make things harder for him, and if people won't accept him being with a squib…"
"Don't use that word," Remus admonished her. "And yes, I think you are very capable and you have a tenacity that will serve you well. You are a fierce little thing," he added with a smile.
That was exactly what she needed to hear, him using Alec's word for her. It was like an omen. "Did you feel…I don't know…excited and scared and determined and everything all at once when you decided Artemis was…was it?"
"Oh yes," he nodded, giving her a conspiratorial smile. "Everything all at once. Have you talked to Gareth about this?"
"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe tonight."
The clock on the mantle above the fireplace began to chime nine o'clock and the room broke into a flurry of noise and activity as people began to clean up and head outside in preparation for the largest snowball fight the reservation had ever seen.