Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Twelve
Girl’s Night Out

A tan leather skirt swirled around Jasmine’s calves as she tucked a creamy silk shirt into it. She shrugged into a tapestry bodice with a shimmy. A touch of her wand to each of the attached ribbons sent them lacing themselves tightly into the bodice. All Jasmine needed to do was suck in and tug her breasts into the proper place so they weren’t uncomfortably flattened. Her favorite necklace peeked under the open neckline of her blouse, framed by wide lapels. She zipped up knee-high ostrich skin boots with medium heels. Her hair flipped back as she stood again, curling prettily down her back. A brush of mascara and a swipe of brick colored lipstick gave her a polished glow. A wave of her wand made the makeup unmarable until she took it off.

Sirius listened to her heels click in the room above him. He lay in front of the living room fireplace, wishing he were upstairs with her. He wouldn’t go up there again; he couldn’t trust himself to be close to her again. Sirius wanted her too much.

Sirius felt her approach before he saw her. Jasmine descended the stairs and reached for a long black cloak. As she secured the silver clasps, Sirius went to the door, waiting.

“No, you stay here. I’ll be back later,” she said firmly. Sirius didn’t move away from the door. “Go lie down, Sirius, go on now, I’m going out.” She reached for the door handle but he nudged her hand away before it touched the knob. “Sirius…” she said in a tone that was growing annoyed.

He wuffled.

She reached for the handle again, Again, he nudged her hand away. “I’m just going to the pub with Anne-Mette and a few other girls.” He didn’t move. “Oh, stop it! You can’t want to sit in the pub and listen to a bunch of witches drink and have girl talk. No male does!”

Sirius stood and looked at the door expectantly, tail wagging.

“Oh, alright, but don’t blame me if you get bored.”

Sirius politely opened the door with one huge paw for Jasmine and escorted her into town. Together they strolled down the High Road into Hogsmeade proper and turned into The Three Broomsticks. The Hog’s Head was too seedy for a girl’s night out. Anne-Mette and Emily were already sitting in their corner booth. Both women were attractive. Emily was a typical English lady, brunette and brown eyed wearing a soft floral dress and sage green robes and the classically Scandinavian beauty, Anne-Mette with icy blonde hair and snapping black eyes was wearing jeans, a tight black tee-shirt and matching black robes. Both ladies had been in Jasmine’s class at Hogwarts, though Emily had been a Ravenclaw. There were squeals of joy and hugs all around.

“I can’t believe it’s been another year! We have got to do this more often, darlings,” said Emily. Of course they said the same thing every year, and never did. It was especially true with Emily, she’d been in America for two years and they all missed her.

Anne-Mette turned her green eyes to the large black dog standing next to Jasmine, “Brought your new boyfriend, Jas?”

“An improvement on Severus, you know,” added Emily quickly.

“Oh my gosh! That was so cruel,” squealed Jasmine. “Come on, he was a nice guy! He has his problems but he is a very good father and a very good friend, quit picking on him!”

“He’s gloomy,” intoned Anne-Mette.

“You’d be gloomy too, if you worked in a dungeon all day,” retorted Jasmine.

“I’d rather enjoy working in a dungeon,” quipped Emily and the ladies all laughed. “Whips and chains and all that moaning…” she continued over the giggles.

“Eewww,” said Jasmine and they all laughed again, getting looks from the other patrons.

“So what in the name of Morgan Le Fay, is that animal doing here,” demanded Anne-Mette. “Doesn’t he let you out on your own? He’s worse than my husband.”

“Apparently not, he wouldn’t let me leave without bringing him,” said Jasmine.

Rosemerta stolled to the table, holding four full glasses of wine and new bottle, “Hello, Jasmine, cute boots, nice dog, he your new boyfriend?” The four ladies dissolved into laughter and all four settled into the booth, Sirius laid down next to Jasmine. He knew he was going to be in for a long night. They raised their glasses to another year gone, “Thank Dumbledore we’re not still there!”

“Here, here!”

Emily said, “Okay, I know you all know everything, but I don’t, so you all will have to fill me in on the last two years. San Francisco may not be the end of the world, but civilization certainly ends at Dublin – and even that’s questionable!”

Anne-Metta began. “Well, Niles still isn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he’s still handsome and can still stay hard for a month. I think I have a friction burn from last night!” The ladies all laughed and took a drink – it was a rule, anytime any of them mentioned anything to do with sex, each had to take a sip of their wine. Usually they went through about six bottles of wine before a night was done. She continued, “The children are fine, Moira is getting big, and Siobhan is going into Hogwarts next year.” That made all of them feel old, again they took a drink – no one was allowed to feel old.

Rosemerta, who was very lovely in her forties hadn’t been in Hogwarts with them, but still joined them for the yearly girl-talk soiree since she was a friend to every soul that ever walked into the bar, announced, “I got new shoes!” They all demanded to see them and Rosemerta, happily propped her foot on the table to show off a new pair of sparkly gold pumps.

“Ooo!,” cooed Anne-Mette, and then slyly asked how Hagrid was doing.

Rosmerta blushed and grumbled, “That big dumb ox! He patted my bum in October and kissed me drunkenly then doesn’t show up again until two weeks later with some woman,” the word was spat, “on his arm. She was eight feet tall if she was an inch! How the hell am I supposed to have a chance if a giantess is warming his bed!” The ladies mourned with her for a moment and took another gulp of wine. Another round was poured and another bottle opened.

Rosmerta tried to shake off her doldrums by turning to Emily, “So what you been up to, dearie?”

Emily blushed and said, “Well, as you all know, I was transferred by the Ministry to San Francisco, to keep a diplomatic eye out on all of the Muggle wanna-blessed be’s, just to make sure that none of them actually manage to do any magic in their Wicca pagany …things. Well, it works for them, but… you know.” The ladies giggled. Many Muggles desperately wanted to have magic, so some of them pretended, by imitating the old Druids. It was mostly rot, but the Ministy couldn’t be too careful when there were large concentrations of them dancing around. A few of them had actually managed to get a hold of some magical objects and had wrecked minor havoc.

“And….” Anne-Mette prompted.

“And… I met someone.”

“Oh, let’s here all about him,” prompted Jasmine.

“Well, first, here’s the thing…” Emily trailed off. The ladies all looked curious.

“I met my dear one at a Quidditch match – er…” she paused again and fiddled with the stem of her wineglass.

“Well, out with it, what’s he like?” probed Rosemerta.

Emily took a huge swig of wine. Each of the others did too. “Er…” she took a deep breath and said in a rush, “he’sashe.”

“Huh?”

“He, I mean,… isn’t… a man.” She took another deep breath. “I went to America and they turned me into a lesbian. I’m in love with a woman.”

Anne-Mette snorted, “Well it’s about damn time you figured that out, girl. They didn’t turn you into anything you weren’t before.”

“You mean you knew? I didn’t know! And you never told me? How did you know?”

Rosemerta looked at her wryly and explained, “It was the shoes, baby. You wear the ugliest shoes I have ever seen.”

Emily protested, “My shoes are comfortable!”

Rosemerta said bluntly, “Your shoes scream ‘dyke.’” Emily blushed. They all drank more wine and Emily told them all about her new love.

Jasmine, who was considered the innocent of the bunch asked shyly, “So, Emily, this lesbian thing, what’s that like?” The women laughed, “No, I mean... the difference between making love with a woman and with a man.”

Emily said, “It’s… it’s... oh, honey, only a woman knows what a woman really needs.” They all giggled and drank another sip, draining their glasses. Rosmerta poured more. Emily gave them all of the details of having sex with a woman. She was romantic, erotic and clinical when she gave specific how to’s. They needed a lot more wine after that.

“It’s been so long for me, this sounds like a good idea. Maybe I should switch sides and be a lesbian, too,” said Jasmine facetiously. The women laughed again and drank.

Anne-Mette dug again, “Well, it would be better than Snape,”

“I haven’t been with Severus in five years!” asserted Jasmine. They all looked doubtful. “Really, I haven’t. I mean, there was the one time he kissed me, about two years ago, but there was nothing there. It’s over, completely over! We are just friends and he’s a good father. He’s got Arielle tonight.”

Sirius sat up and set his head in her lap; she slowly stroked his head. Sirius thought to himself that if she did become a lesbian, most of his problems would be solved but he was delighted that there was nothing with Snape anymore; he had been slightly concerned, even if he couldn’t have her.

She continued after they quieted, “Though I did have an amazing dream a few weeks ago.” She gave a stern look to Anne-Mette, snapping, “No, Severus wasn’t in it!” Her friend laughed. Jasmine continued to stroke Sirius’s head while she spoke. The ladies listened avidly. She lowered her voice, “I had the most amazing orgasm.” The ladies murmured and Jasmine went on. “I had taken a bath and been reading a trashy Muggle romance novel, went to bed all sleepy soft and woke up with my hand on my tummy, and a wet spot on the bed. It was amazing. I was sleeping the entire time. It was the best. It was like I could actually feel his tongue between my legs. I have never felt anything like that before.”

She looked up from her wineglass just in time to see a strange wizard give her a knowing look as he passed their table on the way to the toilet. Her cheeks flamed. Sirius growled at the man who hurried along.

Emily looked at Sirius and asked, since the others knew, “So, Jas, why did you bring the dog, and what have you been feeding it, it’s huge!”

“He came that way! And he came along tonight because he’s too big to force to stay home when he’s determined to come along,” she said.” Sirius has been so wonderful though,” Jasmine told them about the day on the mountain, “I just love him. He’s like a big teddy bear.” Sirius grumbled. Jasmine giggled and ruffled at his ears, saying quietly, “You’re the best dog, Sirius.”

“Speaking of Siriuses, have they caught Sirius Black yet,” asked Emily, changing the subject.

“Not yet. I doubt they are even looking, after the dementor incident up at school,” said Rosemerta. They had to explain to Emily who was aghast.

Anne-Mette purred, “Let me look for him, I know just what to do when I find that man! Reow!” The women laughed again, knowing that Anne-Mette was utterly devoted to her husband.

Jasmine asked quietly, already very relaxed, “Have you seen the pictures of him now? He used to be so handsome,” she sighed. The others did likewise.

Anne-Mette added, “Remember his arse?” They all did and took another drink in honor of such a fine butt.

Sirius, who was enjoying the soft stroking by Jasmine ducked under the table, embarrassed. Women really talked like this? He felt like a piece of meat. He was flattered, yes, but he felt like a steak being evaluated for dinner.

Jasmine chimed in with a slow giggle, “I remember seeing him, Remus Lupin and James Potter go swimming in the lake in their last year. They went to tickle the giant squid on a dare. Remember them without their shirts?” She pretended to swoon.

Rosemerta sighed, “Remember how handsome they looked at James and Lily’s wedding?” None of the others had been old enough to attend so Rosemerta explained. “Imagine Sirius Black, James Potter and Remus Lupin in tuxedos and black velvet cloaks.” She purred. The other women all ooo’d and Jasmine remembered that her mother had made the suits, Jasmine apprenticed on them and she’d helped do some of the sewing. Anne-Mette said she’d have killed Niles just to see the men.

Sirius listened in fascinated horror.

“Remember that motorbike?” asked Jasmine. “I wonder what ever happened to that?”

Rosmerta, who knew almost everything about everyone, answered, “Hagrid still has it. Sirius gave it to him when he retrieved Harry that night. He disappeared right after that so Hagrid couldn’t give it back, and then Sirius ended up in Azakaban. It’s still in Hagrid’s shed.”

Anne-Mette purred, “1965 Triumph Bonneville, mmmmm. I saw it when my mum took us to visit our old Aunt Agetha in Godric’s Hollow. He restored it to stock, added studded saddlebags and a foxtail to the rearview mirror. Enchanted so it could fly at 180 miles per hour and do 120 on the street. And Sirius Black kissed every mark on that speedometer. He loved that bike. I loved that bike.”

Jasmine dreamed, “Remember that leather jacket he wore with the jeans and white tee-shirt and boots?” That thought drained their glasses and Rosemerta rose to get another two bottles.

“I remember he was wearing them when Jasmine started stuttering when he congratulated us after we did that thing in fourth year,” crowed Anne-Mette.

“No! No, no, no! We called a moratorium on talking about that right after it happened!” cried Jasmine.

“Oh, come on, it’s been years! Surely you can relive it, now. It was one of the best pranks the school has ever seen,” said Emily. She knew the story well, having been a co-conspirator.

“No, it failed, I was grounded for a year, and every member of my family had a discussion with me about it. I don’t want to hear another word on it,” insisted Jasmine. Sirius was intrigued, he didn’t remember ever talking much to Jasmine when they were in school.

They moved on to talking about handsome Remus Lupin – Emily didn’t know he was a werewolf. All of them agreed that he could bite them any day. Anne-Mette would prefer to be licked though. Another bottle was drained.

Sirius made a mental note to write to Remus, informing him of his new super-stud status – he would be amused, befuddled and embarrassed, but amused.

“Speaking of handsome men, how’s your big brother, Emily?”

“I don’t talk to Darian much, really. I think he’s fine though.”

As the night wore on, they drank anther two bottles of wine. They talked about life, love, sex, babies – Emily and her partner were going to have a baby – past loves, business, old school days, Bertha Jorkins who was still missing (she was such an idiot) -- new school gossip, friends they’d lost touch with or had died (most killed by Voldemort) the Tri-Wizard Tournament ending tomorrow and how surprising it was that young Harry Potter was doing so well.

Jasmine said, “I met him last week. He’s really cute.”

Emily coughed “Jailbait” and everyone laughed. Jasmine blushed.

“Not like that! He’s the image of his father but with Lily’s green eyes. He’s a bit shy but very polite. I hear he’s also very powerful, I mean, he’s already defeated Voldemort three times.” The other women winced at hearing the name but knew that Jasmine refused to call him anything else. “Dumbledore thinks he has a chance to win, if he can mange to stay alive.” The possibilities were sobering, but that didn’t last long.

Finally, the case of wine drained, the night half-gone and their voices hoarse, they hugged their good-byes, and said their see you tomorrow’s, again promising to do this more than once a year. An extra bottle was broken out as a goodnight toast, then each set off home. Emily and Rosemerta went to their rooms upstairs, wobbling and giggling with every step. Jasmine held onto the scruff of Sirius’s neck as they escorted Anne-Mette home.