April 30th, 2005
"Lorelai, can you tell me what designer you're wearing?"
"Or why you chose to wear a Muggle gown instead of traditional dress robes? Are you intentionally making a statement?"
"Auror Baudelaire, would you care to comment on the pictures printed earlier this year of you drinking? They've raised some concerns about your fitness for duty and whether or not your history of substance abuse should have been more heavily considered in your employment."
"What's it like being back in London? Are you still grieving your late husband, Fred Weasley? What do you think he'd say about the life you've led since his demise?"
"Rumor has it that you're in talks to take a position with Baudelaire Enterprises if MACUSA opts to terminate your employment, is that true?"
"Lorelai, are you seeing anyone? Do you have a comment about your ex-boyfriend, Vladmir Abramov's recent engagement?"
"Auror Baudelaire, do you have anything to say about the reports that you're refusing MACUSA's recommended psychiatric treatment and concerns that you're a liability in the field?"
"Lorelai! Hey, come here! Quibbler wants a picture!"
By the time Angelina Johnson Weasley's voice broke through the barrage of questions, Lorelai was so frazzled she very nearly mistook her for another reporter and snapped, but when Lorelai turned and saw the familiar, friendly face waving her over, she felt her chest mercifully loosen and quickly ducked in that direction.
The Ministry's annual Ball to commemorate the end of the war had never been Lorelai's favorite event, the press always being her least favorite part of it – but this year was quickly putting the others to shame, and the night had only just begun. She'd hardly taken five steps into the Atrium before she'd been surrounded. In all fairness, it had started before she'd even left the States. Alacester Alley had felt like a wall of cameras when she'd tried to meet up with Olivia for lunch. But even having the heads up hadn't adequately prepared her, and if she kept up at this clip, she'd be having a coronary by the end of the night.
"You're an angel," Lorelai whispered as she successfully slipped next to Angelina and posed for the cameraman standing in wait. Angelina gave her a knowing look, and there was a certain amount of amusement underlying her features that Lorelai tried not to be resentful of.
"I've never seen it this bad before," Angelina managed to say while holding her smile. The light flashed and both of the girls shuffled slightly in response to the cameraman's waving hand. "You'd think people would have better things to worry about than a grown woman having a few drinks at New Years."
Lorelai scoffed.
"I wish those fucking pictures were the only thing they were asking about," she muttered.
Reporters like Glenn Asp were the reason Lorelai had grown to prefer the Muggle world and the anonymity it provided in her adult years – or rather, Glenn Asp was the reason Lorelai had grown to prefer it. Harry had grown fond of calling the witch Lorelai's personal Rita Skeeter, as it had gotten to the point where Lorelai couldn't so much as breathe in the wizarding world without Glenn having a spin to put on it.
The latest had been photos Glenn had managed to snap while Lorelai had been out with friends for New Year's Eve. By all accounts, it had been a tame night, but she'd done a round of shots with her friends. Asp had it printed in The New York Ghost alongside a photo from of Lorelai drinking during one of her lowest points after the war, and another of her drinking when she'd been pretending to be at a low point in preparation to fake her death before the war. The accompanying headlines had called it a pattern of behavior. The public had latched on, and it had escalated from there.
Angelina shot her a sympathetic look just before they stepped in closer for one last picture. The flash went off for the third time and before Lorelai could even register it, Ang was spinning her around and subtly shoving her towards the lifts.
"Go," she muttered. "George and I won't be far behind you."
Lorelai looked back gratefully and mouthed angel again, walking backwards as she went. Angelina spared her a large grin before she herself turned back to the reporters. It was at that point that Lorelai ducked down and slipped as quickly as she could through the small crowd between her and the golden gates housing the lifts.
When the gates finally closed behind her, Lorelai slumped back against the furthest wall from the door and exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment, letting her head fall against the cool metal, and reveling in the peace. The emerald green gown Olivia had picked out her was beautiful, but somewhat constricting, and Lorelai found she would have traded just about anything to be curled up on the couch in sweats instead of on her way down to the Ministry's ballroom. At least, she reminded herself, there wouldn't be any press for the remainder of the night. She needed to remember to thank Kingsley for insisting reporters and the public not be allowed past the Atrium. It was the only thing that made the event tolerable.
Downstairs was still bustling, but not anywhere near as bad, and by the time Lorelai stepped off the lift she'd rearranged her face into a neutral smile and was standing tall. The hallway itself was empty, but she could hear the music drifting down from the ballroom and knew from experience that the foyer in front of it would be set up for cocktail hour.
She started off down the corridor, ignoring the gossiping portraits lining the walls that reminded her so much of her time at Hogwarts, and wishing the click clack of her heels didn't sound quite so loud against the tile. The music grew louder as she got closer, the sound of chatter and clinking glasses rising with it, and Lorelai was uncomfortably reminded of the formal parties she'd had to attend as a kid… the ones out of familial obligation, whether it had been for Jack before he'd given her up, or for her Aunt and Uncle after they'd taken her in. It had been years, but the distaste those events had left in her mouth had never entirely faded.
Eventually the stairs came into view and Lorelai took the briefest of moments to pause and survey the scene before her. There were already a lot of familiar faces mingling about – most of them friendly, and better yet, none of them holding cameras. She was just about to set off towards the high-top table where she saw Bill and Fleur standing with McGonagall when a delightfully familiar voice called out her name.
"Lorelai!"
Lorelai turned and found none other than Nolan standing at the bottom of the stairs, beaming up at her in excitement. When she realized he was alone, she couldn't help but share in the joy, and she felt a grin break across her face as she let out an uncharacteristic squeal.
"Nolan!"
Without a thought or care for how "improper" it was, Lorelai grabbed the skirt of her dress and held it up a few inches off the floor so she could run down the stairs at full speed. By the time she reached the bottom, Nolan was full out laughing and immediately scooped her up into his arms, twirling her around in a circle before placing her back down on the ground, hugging her tightly.
"Merlin, it's so good to see you," he breathed, and Lorelai squeezed him tighter.
"You have no idea," she muttered back. Nolan had always been her rock, her big brother, her protector… she missed him something awful, but she also knew that unlike with the others, her traveling wasn't the thing that kept them apart.
"You look beautiful, sis," he said when they finally pulled apart, though he still held her hand and pushed her to twirl around for him before actually letting her go. "Just like Mum. Did you come with George and Ang? I know better than to ask if you came with a date." Nolan sniggered even as Lorelai smacked him with the clutch she was carrying.
"Ass. Yes, I came with George and Angelina, but they were still stuck upstairs when I ducked down here." She didn't bother asking Nolan about his own situation; there was no point. Lorelai was already fully aware that even if she didn't see the woman right then, Jane Parker was around somewhere.
"How've you been? Harry said you were in Albuquerque for a bit?" Lorelai tried not to frown when she realized how outdated her brother's intel was. The case she'd done in Albuquerque had been in March and was why she'd opted out of Mary's birthday dinner. Sitting there thinking about it, though, she realized she and Nolan probably hadn't spoken since she'd seen him for his own birthday in January.
"I've been alright. Albuquerque was a pretty big bust; we broke up an illegal monster fighting ring. How about you?"
Nolan grabbed two glasses of champagne off a tray that floated by, passing one to her before sipping at his own while trying in vain to loosen his collar a bit.
"Oh, I'm fine. Same old, same old out here. Unc's got me heading to Spain next week about a new acquisition. Jane wants to get a summer home in…what the hell was it… Dubrovnik? S'long as she's not bothering me about a baby, I'm good."
Lorelai would have loved to have made a crack about how selfish he was for not giving her another niece or nephew to spoil, but the thought of a mini-Jane Parker running around, even if it shared her beloved brother's DNA, was too sickening to even joke about.
"Amen to that," she agreed before tipping back the champagne. "You should check out Zafra while you're in Spain. I hear Makra Forma has a new nightclub that's doing well." Nolan's eyes lit up in interest, just as Lorelai had expected. Some things never changed.
"Y'know, Ben mentioned something about that. He said he saw you not too long ago too – said you were looking rather fit. You two didn't…"
Lorelai rolled her eyes as Nolan waggled his brows, and she hit him again with the clutch. Ben had been her brother's best friend since their school days, and although he and Lorelai had always gotten along well and had shared the occasional hook-up, she'd never harbored any real feelings towards him, nor he towards her as far as she could tell.
"He's married, Nol. That actually means something to some people." He took her subtle dig at him in stride and shrugged.
"Not happily, I'd wager."
It wasn't happily, Lorelai knew that. She also knew that, unlike Nolan and Jane, Ben's marriage had at least been founded on some level of mutual feelings, and that he and his wife Erica were trying to work it out. He'd talked to her about it when she'd been in his neck of the woods working a case about six months before. They'd also talked about what a mess Nolan was, but there was no need to get into that then. Something about glass houses and what not.
"Don't care, not interested. Doubt Ben is either."
Before Nolan could say anything else, Ron and Hermione appeared at her arm, all smiles and excited greetings. Despite having just seen them the night before, Lorelai still hugged each of them, trading off with Nolan to do so.
"You look lovely, Lorelai," Hermione gushed.
"You'd look better if you stopped wearing green," Ron joked, earning a disproving look from his wife.
"Honestly, Ron, aren't we a little old for house rivalries?"
"Never," he answered back seriously, just before taking a sip from his own glass. Hermione shook her head in exasperation.
"It's not like I wasn't in Gryffindor with all of you," Lorelai reminded Ron.
"Ever wonder if you would have been sorted the same if you'd been at Hogwarts from year one?" Nolan asked. Lorelai kept her face impassive and shook her head. There was no need to tell anyone that she'd only actually been placed in Gryffindor because she'd begged… being a late transfer, she'd been desperate for the hat to place her with her family and friends. The fact that it had been inclined to send her to the snake pit was a secret she'd been content to let Fred take to the grave, as she'd never told anyone but him.
"I'd be more curious to see how the rest of you would have been sorted if you'd all come to Hogwarts," Ron spoke up, "given that Lorelai was in Gryffindor and Emily ended up in Slytherin." Nolan grinned, holding back laughter poorly.
"Lucky for you all. Back then it would have been a blood bath if they'd been in the same house. There's a reason our headmaster had them separated by an ocean." Even Lorelai laughed at that, and the four of them were still chatting amicably a few minutes later when Jane finally made her appearance.
Jane hadn't changed much since their school days, from her plain looks, to her resting bitchface, and her need to cling to Nolan's side like a lost puppy. Unlike their school days, however, Jane now had a ring on her finger that symbolized her victory and Nolan's ultimate caving in to the familial expectations that shackled them together.
She immediately looped her arm through Nolan's, smiling politely but with indifference towards Ron and Hermione, her smile slipping ever so slightly when her eyes landed on Lorelai.
"I didn't think you'd come," Jane said once greetings had been exchanged. "The way the papers are writing it, you should be booking another room at Whisphome again rather than attending a party."
The atmosphere shifted immediately, and Lorelai felt her blood start to boil the way it always did around her least favorite sister-in-law. Ron and Hermione were eyeing her warily, while Nolan was looking to his wife reproachfully. Lorelai thanked her repressed upbringing and maintained a solid poker-face, sipping from her champagne coolly but pointedly.
"Can't believe everything you read, Jane. Though I can see how you'd be confused, seeing as how everything Witch Weekly put out on you last summer was completely true."
Ron had to stifle a snort, but her comment served to pull Nolan's reproachful gaze from Jane onto herself, and Lorelai felt a flare of both annoyance and remorse. She hated pissing off Nolan, but she hated Jane more. Jane, for her part, sniffled, and Hermione looked wildly uncomfortable.
"Lorelai," Nolan hissed in warning.
"Lorelai, how's Katie?" Hermione quickly interjected, eager to find a safe topic. "She's about ready to finish up her first year at school, right?"
"Yep! She'll be home in a few weeks."
"You two have any plans for the summer?" Ron asked. Lorelai was opening her mouth to answer when Jane let out a quiet snort, pulling everyone's gaze back to her. Jane widened her eyes in fake surprise and then made a show of trying to look sheepish.
"Sorry," she said. "That's just funny. Lorelai taking off work for someone else."
Lorelai kept her face expressionless and turned back to Ron, though she couldn't help but feel her jaw tighten.
"We've got a few day trips and weekend things planned. Then Katie and I'll be at the Hamptons for a week in August, with the Russos and most of the family," she said as if Jane hadn't spoken.
"Harry and Ginny always look forward to that trip," Hermione said.
"Helps that it's usually right around Gin's birthday," Ron added.
The annual Russo-Baudelaire/Potter pilgrimage to the Hamptons had been a tradition since the Russos' youngest, Maya, had graduated, and Lorelai had never missed it – not even the year she and Nick hadn't been on speaking terms. Jane had been increasingly problematic over the years, hating spending the week with all of them, and last year she and Nolan had missed it completely.
"We'll be there too," Nolan told them, a smile forming on his face. "Lorelai, maybe we can take Katie down to the salt caves this year."
"Nolan," Jane interjected, a slight whine to her voice, "don't forget, my parents wanted us to visit them in Segovia that week."
"Yeah, Jane, and you said we could talk to them about a different week," Nolan retorted, a slight edge to his voice. Lorelai tried to hide her smile by taking another sip of champagne.
Conversation went on like that for a few more minutes before Nolan got tired of the bickering, as he usually did, and let Jane pull him away to another group. On their way out, Jane managed to get one more dig in that had Lorelai reaching into the pocket of her dress for her wand despite the fact that Jane had her back to them, but Ron's hand grabbed hold of her wrist before she could actually draw her weapon.
"Not here," he muttered sympathetically when Lorelai glared at him. "Too many witnesses."
Knowing he was right, Lorelai huffed and begrudgingly released her wand.
There were many more familiar faces as cocktail hour wore on and more people made their way in from the Atrium. Neville and Hannah were excited about their upcoming wedding, and Neville seemed quite happy with his decision to turn in his Auror badge in favor of taking up the Herbology Professor job at Hogwarts. Lorelai enjoyed swapping travel stories with Luna and talking Quidditch with Oliver and his wife. Charlie bemoaned that she was staying with George and Angelina for the weekend, as he'd have to work doubly hard to find a story to amuse Freddie to compete with Lorelai's after she left. Lee hugged her warmly and pulled her in for a drink with him and Alicia, during which Alicia happily informed Lorelai that Lee had been quite hungover that morning, and that she was of the opinion he was losing a step as he got older.
The ballroom itself opened up about a half hour before dinner was actually set to be served, simply to provide extra space as the reception area was filling up. It was when Lorelai ducked in to scope out the seating arrangement that she fan into her older sister.
Mary was standing with her husband, Jake Russo, talking with their Aunt and Uncle. Jake looked mildly uncomfortable the way he always did when he was dealing with Howard and Helena but was holding his own. Mary looked to be in her element, her blonde hair styled into an elegant bun with some loose strands framing her face and a floor length royal blue gown, and Lorelai was simultaneously filled with that odd conflation of happiness and resentment only Mary could really pull out of her. They spotted one another at the same time and Mary slipped away from Jake, pulling Lorelai into a hug far enough away that they were out of earshot.
"You look great, Mar," Lorelai told her genuinely, and Mary flushed even as a slight smile graced her face.
"Damien and Nat have the kids," she explained. Lorelai nodded, having already known that. Not only did Damien and Nat take the kids every year so Mary and Jake could attend, but they'd all been at Julia's birthday dinner just before Lorelai had left for London herself. "How are you holding up?"
"Fine," Lorelai answered in a determinedly light voice. Mary was one of the last people she wanted to discuss her recent publicity with. Mary nodded but looked unconvinced.
"You know, you really should think of transferring full time back to New York. Quieter life and you would probably be a lot happier – you could –"
"I'm good, Mar, really," Lorelai interjected, desperately looking around for an escape route. She was almost positive they'd be seated together at dinner, and she needed to save her patience for then. Mercifully, she spotted an overly familiar visage not far off and began to make a break for it. "I really need a drink though, so I'll catch up with you later."
Lorelai didn't wait for Mary to formulate a response and instead ducked away, weaving through the crowd until she met her mirror image, waiting patiently for her on the outskirts of a room with an extra glass in hand.
"Bless you," Lorelai breathed as she accepted the cocktail from Emily.
"Figured you'd need it. They weren't sure which twin I was when I got here, and – oh honestly, Lorelai!" Emily was quick to pull Lorelai's hand away from her mouth when she realized Lorelai had downed half the beverage in one go and seemed intent on finishing it. "Pace yourself."
"No one's watching," Lorelai shrugged, before muttering "for once." Emily gave her a sympathetic look.
If someone had tried to tell Lorelai seven years ago that she'd be willingly standing anywhere with Emily, let alone that Emily's presence would be welcome, Lorelai would have questioned their mental faculties and suggested a room for them in the Janus Thickey ward. But here they were, and although the pair of them still had their moments, Lorelai was, on the whole, rather grateful she and Emily had found a way to connect and mend fences.
"Just watch your back. I saw one of the reporters trying to grab Jane while she and Nolan were on their way in. Bet you ten galleons there's something in the papers from an 'anonymous source close to the Baudelaires' by the end of the week."
"Bitch," Lorelai complained, and though Emily gave her a somewhat disgusted look at the profanity, she nodded.
"You'd think she'd at least understand the concept of family loyalty, since she was so bloody insistent on getting into the family."
"Ah, can't fault her too much for that one," Lorelai dismissed. "No need to be loyal to the black sheep after all." Emily shook her head and sipped at her drink.
"You're ridiculous."
"No, I'm honest," Lorelai corrected.
"How'd your meeting with Conklin go?" Emily asked. Lorelai shrugged.
"Fine. He put me in for a promotion." Emily's eyes widened, and Lorelai could see the excitement and confusion taking hold.
"That's brilliant! Why aren't you excited?" Lorelai rolled her eyes and drank again.
"Because, Em, it still has to go through the Deputy Director, and Kirby would fire my ass if he could." Emily sighed and shook her head.
"I think you're overstating it. When will you hear officially?"
"Probably not until the end of the summer. How did your date with Connor go?" Emily made a face and Lorelai knew the answer before Emily opened her mouth.
"We broke things off. Prat."
Personally, Lorelai thought her twin was better off without the guy, and had thought so even before he'd proven he was completely unable to tell them apart, but she still gave Emily a sympathetic look.
"Sorry, Em. You deserve better. Good on you for knowing it."
"Yeah, yeah."
Dinner was about as enjoyable as Lorelai had anticipated. She'd accidentally ended up at the table early and found herself stuck with just her Aunt Helena and Uncle Howard for company. Helena was exasperated that Lorelai had, once again, come dateless, Howard displayed his typical disinterest, and both of them were clearly irritated at the way her name had been in the papers lately. She'd been immensely relieved when Harry and Ginny showed up and had spent most of dinner talking with them. Harry had been more than happy to talk her ear off about her latest case taking care of a demon problem in Nebraska, while Ginny eagerly peppered her with questions about her latest conquests when no one else was listening.
Lorelai was relieved when it was over, and the dancing began. She had her typical conversation with Kingsley about how things were going at MACUSA during which he, as always, reminded her that a spot would be waiting for her at the Ministry any time she wanted it. George and Lee took turns spinning her around the dance floor and kept her laughing the whole time. She caught up briefly with Molly and Arthur, only getting away after she assured Molly she'd be at the Burrow for Sunday dinner. She got to catch up with McGonagall and Slughorn just before desert, and managed to "accidentally" drop her pudding into Jane's lap.
Still, by the time 11 o'clock rolled around, Lorelai was exhausted, and she was more than happy to slip away undetected for her last stop of the night.
Draco Malfoy, although pardoned and fully reformed, did not attend the annual Ministry Ball, despite the fact that Harry always insisted he get an invitation. He did, however, always make a point to meet up with Lorelai at a Muggle pub before the end of the night, giving her a chance to unwind away from the glitz and chaos, and taking the time to catch up. Their friendship was odd, to say the least, but it was real, and Lorelai would always appreciate it.
By the time she slipped into Archduke, Draco already had a small table in the back corner and was sipping at a pint, with a cocktail waiting for her. He looked her up and down and nodded as she slipped into the seat next to him.
"Baudelaire," he greeted.
"Malfoy."
"Green suits you," he acknowledged. "Though I've always said that."
Lorelai smiled at him indulgently but didn't take the bait. Although she'd only ever told Fred the truth about her experience with the Sorting Hat, Draco had been quick to point out he'd been surprised she'd ended up in Gryffindor.
"Cheers," she said, lifting up the vodka-cran he'd gotten her. Draco lifted his pint and clinked their glasses.
"Cheers," he returned, taking another sip. "How was the Ball?" Lorelai grimaced and he smirked. "That good, huh?"
"How's Astoria?" she asked instead of answering his question, and it was Draco's turn to grimace.
"She's driving me spare. All she talks about is getting pregnant anymore. I swear, if we don't conceive soon, I'm going to lose my mind. She says hello, by the way." Lorelai snorted but gave him a soft smile as she twirled her glass around in her hands. The music in the background was soothing – she'd always liked jazz – and without the chaos of the Ministry she could hear herself think again. Her heart certainly went out to Astoria and Draco – they'd been trying for the better part of a year, and Lorelai knew how painful it could be to grapple with infertility.
"What are the Healers saying?" she asked.
"Nothing," Draco groused. "Her mother's convinced her to start seeing an Acupuncturist, though." Lorelai shook her head ruefully, still manhandling her drink.
"Sorry, Draco. Really sorry… I can imagine –" but suddenly Draco was shaking his head, as if he suddenly realized how open he'd been, and lent forward.
"No, don't be. We'll get there, right? Anyway, how are you doing? I saw your report on that obscurial case, and your recommendation to the International Confederation. You know they're never going to do away with Obliviating, right?" Lorelai rolled her eyes and took another drink.
"Yeah, well I can try," she muttered, and Draco shook his head at her.
"Maybe you did belong in Gryffindor after all," he said, and although he meant it as an insult, Lorelai felt her heart warm just a bit.
They parted ways just before 1, with a tight hug and promises to see each other the next time one of them was in the other's area. By the time Lorelai got back to George and Angelina's, the house was quiet, though she could see their lights were still on, and she slipped silently into the guest room.
Lorelai was well and truly spent and was immensely grateful for the comfortable bed waiting for her. It was a relief to trade her heels for socks and the dress for sweats and an old t-shirt. When her head finally hit the pillow, she had just enough energy to notice the picture on the nightstand before she drifted off. It was from Christmas, what felt like a million years ago at Grimmauld Place. She was standing between Fred and George, all three of them wearing the sweaters Molly had made them and laughing as the firework prototypes Fred and George had been working on zoomed around the kitchen. There was both an ache and a warmth in her heart as Lorelai slipped into unconsciousness that she very much hoped not to remember in the morning.