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Regular Night Owls
Author: Ron Weasley
Date: 12-25-18 18:54
Rose smirks up at her father. "Hugo's asleep. I staying up until it's tomorrow."
Ron holds out his arms to Rose who jumps up into them. "You're not sleepy?" he asks, spinning around with her.
"Not me. Hugo is such a baby."
"He is only two."
"When I was two I stayed up. Mummy said."
"You did manage to stay awake longer at that age than he has."
"Until we went home?"
"Not quite that long."
"I will this year."
"You're just stubborn enough you might make it. You get that from your mother."
Rose cocks her head at him, giving Ron a quizzical look. "But Mummy says I get it from you."
"That's because Mummy is too stubborn to admit she's stubborn." Ron tickles Rose causing her to squirm, squealing with laughter.
Ron kisses the top of her head then sets her down. She scampers off in search of food, preferably something sweet. Ron follows at a slower pace, coming to a stop beside Hermione who's talking with a few others. Sliding an arm around her waist he waits for a pause in the conversation to whisper, "Rose may make it until the party's over but don't be surprised if I end up curled next to Hugo, sleeping in the new year."
Hermione chuckles. "I may be right there with you."
"And they say when people age they aren't the partiers they used to be. We're regular night owls staying up until 9:30, 9:45 on a regular basis," he replies with a grin.
Hermione laughs, holding her glass out to him for a refill. "Please? And check Rose while you're at it. I think I just saw her with an entire platter of petit fours."
Before Midnight
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 12-26-18 18:37
Although she had made a good effort, Rose did not end up staying up until midnight. With a full tummy due to all her snacking, she fell into a contented sleep next to Hugo. Ron and Hermione eventually found themselves lounging on either side of their children.
Both listened to the hum of conversation in the other rooms as the countdown to midnight neared. Hermione's wine glass was empty, but the little plate of cheese and crackers she'd gotten prior to laying down still had a few pieces on it. She reached for a cheese cube and whispered, "Do you think it will work?"
"Of course it will work. You came up with it, and you're brilliant. There isn't anything you can't do," Ron whispered back.
"I know that," Hermione replied without any modesty, "but I mean, do you think we'll finally locate their hideout?"
Ron didn't immediately answer. Hermione's research into the abbeys of Great Britain and Ireland had led to many likely candidates and several excursions but zero results. Just when she thought it had all been for naught, an idea bloomed. Using her spell research skills, she devised a tool that was a cross between a probity probe and a secrecy sensor. It didn't have a name yet––Hermione was thinking Fred and George might be able to help her with that––but if it worked, it would unravel the concealment charms around the abbey headquarters of the Death Eaters.
Whereas probity probes and secrecy sensors were generally used on persons to detect concealment spells, hidden magical objects, and lies, Hermione's tool was intended to work on places. She'd done some test runs in a controlled environment and had been pleased with the initial results. Her plan was to test it on a real place after the holiday, and the place she had in mind was 12 Grimmauld Place.
The Order hadn't met there in ages because it had been compromised, but Hermione thought of it––and Hogwarts and even the Ministry of Magic––as places using concealment charms. Testing her tool on #12 seemed like the least disruptive and most accessible, so that was her plan. If it worked as intended (and hopefully without surprises––who knew what secrets were in that house since she'd last visited!), then she would take it out into the field.
"It will work," Ron finally said resolutely.
Hermione crossed her fingers in response.
New Year's Lunch
Author: Eoghan
Date: 12-27-18 20:25
Eoghan waits just outside the restaurant for Rodolphus, thankful when the older wizard shows up right on time. It's too cold to be hanging around in a location where he can't openly use a warming spell. He could have waited inside but the narrow, below street level entrance is easily overlooked by first timers.
As he holds the door Rodolphus asks, "What is this place?"
"Barbeque mostly but some other things such as foods popular in the American South. Gumbo. Fried catfish. Jambalaya. Étouffée."
"Smells good."
For New Year's Day the place is surprisingly busy though not as busy as this same time on a regular day. They are seated at a booth towards the back, near a window overlooking a patio that's a popular spot in nicer weather. It's a shame the place doesn't employ heaters to make the patio welcoming even in colder weather.
They don't say much until after ordering, an order of barbecue brisket and sides for Eoghan and an order of ribs with a cup of seafood gumbo for Rodolphus. Stirring cream into the coffee he'd asked for, Rodolphus says, "I'm sorry but I don't have anything of use to pass along. I thought I might be able to glean more information on a location or learn a few names, either from the old guard or new recruits."
"We knew it would be a longshot."
"If I hadn't been so insistent on not wanting to be pulled back into all that I could have shown an interest and let Bellatrix take me to wherever it is."
"And then you too would be under the same vow."
"There is that."
"Why are you so willing to help when some of them are people who were friends, some relatives, one your wife?"
Rodolphus doesn't immediately respond. He stares into his coffee then slowly brings it to his lips to take a sip. He doesn't speak until he's just as slowly returned the cup to the table. "Partly because it's been an excuse to see you more often, get to know you better."
Eoghan waits for him to continue. Rodolphus takes to long to say anything more Eoghan thinks he'll have to prompt him. He's about to do just that when the other man finally speaks again. "A few of those people I might have considered friends at one time. Most of them were simply the right sort. One socialized with the right sort because that's simply what was done. As for Bellatrix, you may not be aware that the marriage was not a love match."
"No?"
"The Lestranges felt her suitable. The Blacks thought the same of me."
"The right sort."
"Exactly. I was raised with certain beliefs. I cannot say I have changed my thoughts but I have seen the error of some of those beliefs. I followed those beliefs somewhat fanatically. Committed crimes but justified them as being for the greater good in the pursuit of those beliefs. As it turns out, the person I so fanatically, so fervently followed and for whom I committed those crimes was one of the very people he was against. I lost years of my life in prison for a hypocrite. Even if he were pureblooded, I still might find myself questioning why I followed him so blindly. I might but I don't know. I wish I did. Bellatrix, on the other hand, is still blindly devoted. I don't know if she's committed any recent crimes but if Fairchild asked her to in his name or if he is somehow returned, she would gleefully do whatever he wished of her."
"She isn't unintelligent so why, do you think, would she still be a faithful fanatic? Why would any of them for that matter?"
"Over the years Bellatrix became more and more, how shall I put it? Unhinged? Years in Azkaban made her more so."
"I've heard the stories, read the official reports but the few times I've met her she seemed sane enough."
"Few know that she takes a potion that helps her stay somewhat, erm, hinged."
This was an interesting tidbit, or to Eoghan anyway. He listens intently, asking a few questions or making comments here and there, thinking that while this meeting is unproductive when it comes to information about the regrouped Death Eaters, who is leading them, and their hideout location, it's productive for Eoghan in terms of learning more about the Lestranges and the Blacks, and his birth parents, information not found in books or some Ministry of Magic report.
Bonne Année
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 12-28-18 17:38
Bill and Fleur walked arm in arm along the banks of the Seine, while their three children ran ahead, chasing after pigeons strutting along the pavement. The family had come to Paris to celebrate the coming of the new year with the Delacours. There'd been a party last night, ending in fireworks. After a late morning, the family had reconvened for brunch, which had lasted until only a short while ago.
It was cold and cloudy; not particularly a nice day for a stroll, but at least it wasn't raining and it wasn't freezing either. A dining boat cruised past the family, temporarily drawing the attention of the children, who clambered over to the guard rail and would have climbed all the way up and over, had their parents not reigned them in first.
The Weasleys were planning on returning to Hogsmeade in the evening. Bill was scheduled to work tomorrow. It being the start of a new month and a new year at that meant he had a lot of parchmentwork in need of completing. He probably could have taken more time off, but then he had taken a lot off time this past year due to his injury, rehabilitation, and cosmetic procedure.
His brothers teased him relentlessly about his younger appearance, though both Fred and George tried scaring him into thinking that the magic would wear off one day, causing him to age rapidly, wrinkles and all. His mother felt a certain nostalgia over his new look, but Bill's more youthful appearance made Arthur feel very old.
This visit to Paris was the first time the Delacours saw Bill since the accident. They, being Parisians, were experts in style and appearance, and they thought that Bill looked "très magnifique" and wanted to know who his healer was.
Bill was glad that things were feeling more or less normal again. Even though he didn't want the holiday season to end just yet, he did look forward to going back to work. He loved his job and hoped that 2013 would be another good year for Gringotts.
Bill also hoped that 2013 would be less exciting. Unfortunately, Fenrir Greyback was still on the loose, Voldemort might be alive, and nobody knew why Qadir Adallah was really lurking in Hogsmeade. With any luck, all three situations would be resolved positively in the new year, but Bill wasn't holding his breath.
New Year's Day At Malfoy Manor
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 12-29-18 19:06
Draco enters a room the informal sitting room that overlooks a currently bleak looking snow covered garden just in time to hear his sister insist, "I am NOT going to Beauxbatons."
Lucius sighs heavily. "I thought we had decided, Carina."
"You decided."
Lucius stares at his daughter who peevishly stamps a foot before whirling around to stomp over to a chair. She flops into it, sitting back with an audible thump, arms crossing, face scrunched with disgruntlement, lips purses in a pout, eyes glaring at her father.
Shaking his head Lucius makes an effort at a soothing tone. "Don't you remember talking about it, poppet?"
"You telling me you'd arranged for a letter from Beauxbatons is not us talking about it."
Draco smirks. Carina has a valid point. Wisely, he doesn't not voice his opinion. Instead, he makes a subtle gesture to his father to allow him to speak before Lucius says anything more.
"Carina, Beauxbatons is rather nice. Why don't you want to attend?"
"The school building and gardens are nice. The uniforms are nice. The girls I met who start in September are not nice."
Carina has visited Beauxbatons with Lucius and the weekend before Christmas, at the Saint Tropez manor, Lucius had given a party, inviting several families with young ladies starting Beauxbatons when Carina would.
"Not nice in what way?"
"They were snotty about me not being French."
"But you speak French like a native and live there a good part of the year."
"They don't care. They said I would always be second glass."
"Class."
"Second class."
Visibly bristling as the very idea a Malfoy would be called second class, Lucius finally speaks again. "Who said this to you, Carina?"
"Why?"
"Because I will speak to their parents."
Carina shrugs. "Won't make them like me any better when school starts."
Again, Draco thinks she has a good point. This time Lucius agrees. He sighs. "That might be true but they won't be the only new students."
"But they are from the good families."
Draco is close enough to hear Lucius mutter, "Not good enough apparently," but he doesn't speak loudly enough for Carina to hear. What he says to her is, "So Durmstrang then? Or perhaps Akademie vun Magie? Florecido? Magegro Academia?"
"Hogwarts."
Lucius had given great consideration to Carina attending Hogwarts but ultimately decided against it. "Very well. We shall reconsider Hogwarts."
Carina cocks her head and flippantly retorts, "You mean you not we."
"No, I do mean we. We shall sit down and go over each school we've visited or otherwise talked about then if you still wish to attend Hogwarts I shall inform Headmistress McGonagall so that you can be sure of getting a letter come summer."
Jumping up from the chair Carina smiles victoriously. Flouncing from the room she announces, "I'm going to see if dinner is ready."
Lucius looks to Draco who is trying not to laugh. "When did she go from being Daddy's sweet, agreeable girl to, well, that?"
Draco does laugh now. "Sweet she may have long been but I'm not sure if Carina's ever been the agreeable sort."
The face Lucius makes puts Draco in mind of someone sucking on lemons. He laughs again. "Happy New Year to you."
"Let us hope today isn't a taste of daily life in 2013 where your sister is concerned." Sighing again he gestures for Draco to lead the way out of the room. "To dinner, shall we?"