A Dark Time For The Light

48

The next night after work, the girls decided to set to work on home improvements. Dean and Seamus were sponging a layer of paint over the kitchen walls, Colin was scrubbing the bathroom and Terry was washing all the windows. Hermione went into her room and returned to the lounge with a bag slung on one shoulder.

The weekend had gone in a whirl and the computer had moved with Hermione to the new house. They had a brew as the day darkened, then Hermione pulled a bundle of cloth from her bag, a set of brown overalls miles too big and a baseball cap under which she hid her long hair. She cinched the waist of the boilersuit with a tool belt and pulled out an industrial strength flashlight.

From the same bag, she drew out a telephone handset, some sockets and coils of flex. She checked around the living room window, followed the wire that entered the house and located the phone point on the skirting board beside the TV aerial socket. So far, so good.

She went outside, following the line of the cable by eye to the nearest phone pole. Bingo. Under cover of the darkness, she shimmied up the pole, the torch hooked to her belt to give her both hands free to climb. At the top, she secured herself to the pole, her feet on the footpegs, then withdrew an earpiece and a handset and got to work.

“It’s a bit late for engineerin’ work, mate”, the voice made her freeze. She looked down. An old man with a small dog. “Aye, but it’s an emergency. At least I get overtime for this”, she made her voice as gruff as possible. The man nodded and moved on. She let out a long breath. At least the berk hadn’t seemed to notice the lack of van or even ladders, but as Josie had taught her, the boilersuit and the tool-belt were usually enough to convince citizens of your bona fides.

An hour or so later and the new house had a working telephone line, with it’s own number and completely off the radar. She’d also run a line to tap broadband that had a high bandwidth, but not much traffic. Perfect. Probably a small office nearby, who used it during the daytime only. They would now be ‘sharing’!.

Triumphant, she went back into the house and plugged in the handset she’d rescued from the Bunker, then dialled it from her mobile. It rang, loud and clear, bringing the others running in. “Yessss”, she exulted as her girlfriend threw her arms around her and kissed her grubby sweaty face. Stripping off the tool belt and the overalls, she gave her hands and face a quick wash in the kitchen, then set about the computer. In the kitchen, the smell of paint was strong, but, undeterred, Dean re-connected the cooker and him and Seamus knocked together sausages and beans on toast which they ate from plastic plates amidst the jumble of computer bits strewn all over the lounge with cheap steel cutlery from the pound shop on the main road.

Over dinner, they discussed the general sharing of the house. The girls were moved from the tiny back bedroom to the much larger downstairs front room and it was decided to move the computer into the back bedroom making it the study. This was a lot fairer on the girls. The boys had the two larger bedrooms between them. Beyond the kitchen, there was a tiny utility/shower room with a larger bathroom upstairs with a separate loo. This would definitely ease tensions amongst the workers all getting up at the same time.

After the meal was cleared away, they had to get down to the nitty gritty. Money. Hermione was starting to earn and worked jolly hard at it, but her income was nowhere near regular yet. Terry had no job either. Ginny was now full time at the shop but her wage was low, as was Colin’s. The others earned a good wage. Hermione’s brow knit, “Okay, Terry, you and I need to sign on as soon as possible. That way, we’ll bring a bit in and should get a chunk of the rent paid once it’s sorted out. I think we should set up a house account at the bank and our money goes into it and it pays all the bills by direct debit. For now, we pay in by a proportional system like we did at the Bunker. Okay, it means you two are carrying us a bit, and I’m sorry about that, but it’ll improve. We can all do our bit to keep the bills low, switch stuff off, time the immersion heater for the water etcetera”.

Hermione spent the next morning dealing with the utilities and the bank, then had to wait in until Hussain’s men had delivered the furniture. All new, she noted with satisfaction and the selections they’d picked from the catalogue. Two large sofas, a sideboard and TV stand, flatpack bedroom furniture, three double beds and mattresses, half a dozen bedside tables, a foldaway dining table and six folding chairs, plus two large bookcases and a computer bench. They also dropped off two large buckets of white emulsion paint and a washing machine and a large fridge-freezer, used, but clean inside. By tonight their house would start to resemble a home.

Between them, Hermione and Terry managed most of the flatpack stuff, and were laughing as the others started to arrive home, exclaiming over their new goodies. That night they all spent putting their rooms into order, then Dean and Seamus pooled resources and treated the house to a late takeaway and they unfolded the table and chairs and had a convivial supper together. Ginny smiled around the table then asked, “What happens with stuff that we buy for the house, like if we split up, who owns it?”.

Terry shrugged, “Whoever bought it, I guess, and if we buy anything collectively, then we fight about it”, to general laughter. Dean waded in, “She’s got a point though. I suppose for now, we’ll just buy stuff individually then there’s no room for argument”. “Ah, yes, but”, Seamus rejoined, “What about bigger things, like a telly, and who does the computer ‘belong’ to?” Hermione shook her head, “Merlin, guys, this could get complicated, couldn’t it?”.

“Actually the machine belongs to the cadre as a whole, but if it goes back a layer, then it’s Ginny’s being Draco’s wife. Failing that, it’s Draco’s ‘cos the money to buy it came from a small legacy left to him by his grandmother, which he gave half of straight to the cadres to split between them, that’s where all the extra money came from”.

This was a first for the boys, who looked stunned. Seamus voiced, “He’s not bad these days is he?. Considering he’s such a posh git, I never once heard him complain in the Bunker, you know, at coming down in the world or anything. I thought he’d whinge like fuck, to be honest”. Ginny giggled, “He was brilliant when we were brought out from that curse, not a bit arse-y at all and he cared about me, kept me from his parents, taught me stuff and was a perfect gentleman while we were travelling. I love him. I’m not in love with him, but I love him to bits. He could have kept that loot a secret, but forked it straight over, no muckin’ about. Him and Harry kept some and the rest he gave to me. I’m currently sat on an account with over 45 grand in it, so I’ll get some bits of stuff for the house”. This drew gasps from all around. “I know, a Weasley with money!. All three of us put some in an account for Ron before he left for Italy, so he wasn’t skint. We couldn’t send him across Europe with no money. The boys sorted out his passport and flights too”.

Dean joked, “Brill, Gin, now we can have a plasma screen and the latest Playstation and under-floor heating and....”. “Whoa, behave, Thomas”, she chided, “I want the majority of it as a deposit for our own place someday, or to set up a business somewhere. I don’t intend working in a shop all my life”, her face was pink. Dean reached over and patted her arm, “I was joking, Gin. You keep hold of it. A nest egg is jolly useful. I’d take some advice over an amount of that size, you could invest it, or some of it, and just let it sit there earning money for you until you need it”. Ginny nodded, filing this information away.

Hermione sighed internally, they’d got off the money topic, but no-one seemed inclined to discuss it further, so she brought up the next topic she wanted to discuss, “Right chaps”, she got their collective attention, “The house-warming party”. The discussion was lively. It boiled down to, “Let’s just invite everyone we know, including our work-mates. Well, the cool ones, anyway”, and plans were laid.

Draco asked if he could invite his colleagues, to a resounding ‘yes’, “Especially Caroline, we liked her”. E-mails and phone calls flew thick and fast. Hermione had the computer up and running once more, she was setting up a household accounting system. Terry brought her a cup of tea and peered at the spreadsheet she was working on. “You’ve not added the phone bill”, as his eyes scanned down the utilities list. She frowned at him, then realised he knew nothing of her recent past.

“Terry, the phone and broadband are free, well, we are in effect stealing them. I think it’s about time you knew what happened with me since leaving school”, so she told him, leaving out the worst stuff, rolling her sleeves back, revealing the now-white scars at her inner elbows. “The others all know”, she finished.

Terry sank to the floor, amazed. He didn’t know what to say. Hermione giggled, “So now you know. I also picked up a host of skills that were never on the school curriculum. Burglary: I can disable an alarm in under a minute. I can also pick locks. I can break windows with barely a sound. Fraud: I can kite cheques with a straight face. Theft: I can hack phones. That lassie I brought to the Bunker?, she was my partner in crime. When Dean rescued me, and I never came back, she thought I was dead. It happens, you know, to junkie whores, and no-one gives a shit. It frightened her, losing me like that, she went straight as a result. She and Steve, her boyfriend will be at the party. She’s a great friend and a fucking genius with a computer”. Terry reeled at this. “Hermione Granger, you have to be the very last person that I would imagine getting caught up in something like this”. She smirked, “Just goes to show. It can happen to the nicest people. You know, Ron used for a short while?”. Terry was flabbergasted, his head done in. She related the minor relapse that Ron’d had. His world view had just taken a beating.

Later, curled up in their new bed, Terry and Seamus talked. Well, Terry talked and Seamus listened, his arms around the love of his life, “I know, love, it was a shock when she told us all. She was still using when Dean rescued her. She dried out in the honeymoon suite. She’s a very brave woman. She seems to be doing okay and Ginny’s with her every step. I was a bit worried when I heard she’d found her junkie mate, but she’s a really nice lass, Yorkshire girl”, his voice faded. A small snore told Terry his beloved had drifted asleep. With a grin and a “Fuckin’ love you, Finnegan”, he slept himself.

On her day off, Ginny stepped out alone, leaving Hermione ensconced before the computer. She went to an electrical discount outlet and for the first time in her life, enjoyed spending some serious dosh, just by waving a piece of plastic and typing in four numbers. She hired a mini-van cab that the store had an arrangement with and turned up at the house. The girls staggered in with everything.

When they got home, the boys were amazed. A widescreen TV with DVD hard drive recorder and full 5:1 sound system was in the living room, and in each of the bedrooms, a portable TV and DVD player. Ginny shrugged as Hermione furrowed her brow, “Come on, love, I have, er, had, a zillion brothers, boys like things we don’t like, games and porn and football matches. Let ‘em watch in their rooms and we get the good kit for whatever, nice movies. I picked these out in the shop, they looked good”, she handed Hermione a bag. The girl fished out the extended versions of the three Lord of the Rings films, plus Titanic, a few art-house gems and one featuring Hermione’s favourite actor in a very short Grecian leather costume. Hermione howled when she spotted this, “Girlie, I love you. Brad Pitt in a skirt. Priceless!!”.

Hermione had the thing strung together in no time. All the boys were awestruck, Hermione seemed to have this electronics thing down, a boy thing in her capable hands, and none of the boys around her had a clue. This pleased Ginny no end. While she’d been out and about, she’d dipped into their branch of the bank and arranged a little surprise for her lover.

It arrived just before the weekend, the postman waking the house ringing the bell at a godawfully early hour. Ginny was glad of a little time, even while the boys grumbled, Seamus appearing at the top of the stairs in boxers, rubbing his head. “Go back to bed. Sorry, had no idea it’d turn up this early”, but it was nearly time for the workers to rise in any case.

Ginny kissed her Missy awake, then presented her surprise to a befuddled Hermione trying to climb out of her sleepy pit. An envelope, something resistant to the gentle bending she inflicted. She tore it open with a frown. Ginny smiling and expectant on the bed beside her. A plastic card attached to a letter. Realisation began to dawn. Hermione tore the card from it’s moorings, then saw the embossed name, no, names. The account in the names of Ms G Weasley and Ms H J Granger.

A hand clapped over her own mouth to stop her from screaming. Tears appearing in the saucer-round eyes atop the hand, then running down as she blinked. Ginny gathered her close and she slumped against her, “It’s our account now, love. What’s mine is yours”. Hermione threw her arms around her sweet Girlie and wept on her shoulder, she now had access to just under 45 grand after Ginny’s purchases, which, when she went back to the shop the following day, included, for the hell of it, two games machines for the boys, for which she was smothered in hugs by them.

That night Dean and Seamus cooked for them all, having had plenty of practice at the Bunker. Nothing fancy, just good plain fare, pork chops baked in sage and onion stuffing crusts with new potatoes in butter and green beans.

Tomorrow was Saturday, the day of the party.

Ginny had to work that day as did Colin. The rest of the house rose haphazardly and started the process of readying the house for an invasion. Around lunchtime, the Kilmarnock contingent called announcing that they were on their way, comprising Lee and Angelina, the Patil twins, and Lavender and Roland, Neville and his boyfriend.

Harry and Draco’s mobiles were ringing off the hook. Sev and Remus were coming down on the bike and were staying with them. Their colleagues needed directions. Harry was beaming fit to burst. They played loud music that afternoon. Steffie turned up with supplies. Merlin!, her dealer’s hash was good. They still had some of Neville’s weed. She smiled and said she’d see them later. As she left, she winked at Harry and tapped the side of her nose.

Draco was confused, “What did that mean, Harry?”. Harry grinned at him, “It may mean that we have to supply a clean glass surface, my Dragon, preferably a small mirror, and a lethally sharp blade”. This only served to confuse Draco further.

They shared a delirious shower together, making each other shout aloud as they came, then dressed. This was a jeans and t-shirts night. Draco was applying a little cologne as the doorbell rang. Their guests for the weekend. Harry kissed him then uttered a small growl. They both pulled a face at each other, then Harry answered the door. The werewolf and the potions master were so for it this weekend.

They all hugged and the two older men had a moment over Draco’s cologne. The boys left them to shower after the long ride, putting on some old soul music on the radio and dancing as their guests readied themselves. In truth, both boys wanted to skip the party in favour of a party for four, but it was their friends’ housewarming and the gift was already wrapped.

They introduced their two former teachers to their local, dipping in for a couple of pints before heading to the house, picking up ice-cold beer on their way from an off-licence. As they arrived, things were already getting going. Josie and her boyfriend were here, causing Severus and Remus to raise their eyebrows at his many tattoos, until they met properly later that night fuelled by alcohol and other substances and revealed their mutual love of bikes and the open road. Severus had another friend for life. Draco’s colleagues arrived in a body. Caroline pleased to be so easily accepted as a demi-magique. Jacinta amazed at the number of Magicals.

Harry, Dean and Seamus’ colleagues arrived next, then hot on their heels, the Scottish contingent, to giant hugs. The music was turned up, the sparse furniture pushed back and Hermione gathered her Girlie to her for a dance.

The doorbell went again. A small group from Leeds, bearing instruments and sleeping bags. Neville had brought more of his wicked weed with him and had the buzz of his life when his formerly feared potions master declared in a slurred voice that his product was excellent and did he do mail order?.

There was a point in proceedings when Hermione took a time out and surveyed it all, as every good party-giver should. Gauged the heat in all of the rooms. The living room, hot. The dancing. The kitchen, chatty and warm. All the best scenes at parties happened in the kitchen. Then in Seamus and Terry’s bedroom a little scene with a mirror and blade. Folk were invited on a named basis, then whoever fancied a line. Steffie prevailed over the mirror. One of Harry’s ex-teachers was sitting in front of her. She ripped the last bit of cigarette paper wrapping the rolled twenty and prepared another.

The man enquires, “What exactly is this?”. His tone had power and deep sexiness in it even if the man swayed ever so slightly. She grinned, “It’s cocaine, would you like some, which seeing as how you’re here, you obviously do, but have you ever snorted before?”. The ebony-haired man smiled, “I believe snorting is to imbibe certain substances through the nasal membranes. Though, I will confess to never having imbibed anything in this manner before”.

There is a selection of lines laid out on the mirror before her, “The effects are subtle, but with multiple application, build in intensity. I have enough here for multiple applications, donations are appreciated”. Severus licked his lips, then accepted the rolled twenty she offered him. As he leaned forward, he felt hands in his hair, holding it clear.

“Breathe out facing away from the mirror, then block one nostril, insert the note in the other then position over the end of the line, inhale slowly through the free nostril as you move along the line. When all is inhaled, tip the head back, note still in nostril, then, with forefinger and thumb, flick the note to dislodge stray grains. Lift note away, sniff deeply, then return head to normal position. Before it hits you’ll get a horrid taste then a numbness down the back of your throat, called the ‘sootfall’.

Feeling extremely decadent, he partook, as did most of the party, donating as they could until she laid out the last gram for free. Fuck it, she’d covered her costs. The dancing a bit dirtier, the beer consumed faster, some bopping gently in the kitchen as joints were rolled. The girls bedroom became the serious rap room some drifted outside on Ginny’s invite to view the weed strewn strip of grass behind the property that boasted the name ‘garden’. Draco watched Ginny’s face as she contemplated the plot. Even under an Imperius curse, she had wandered out into the grounds and found something to plant, then tend. Raspberry canes, then picked the tender fruit and ate it all herself. Draco’s eyes teared. He knew Ginny had been under a much stronger variety of the curse to make her bear a child whether she wanted to or not.

She turned, seeing Draco there and beckoned him over, waving her can to different corners, “I want beans there, then maybe some spuds next to them...”, her voice tailed away as she fully faced Draco. “I don’t blame you for any of it, you know. I heard you slapped under the Imperius just after me. We were puppets, Draco. I miss Reuben. I think you do too, sometimes, but sometimes I miss him bone-deep. Fuck it, I bore him. I’m his mother”. She turned away and squeezed her eyes shut, emotion welling. Her husband caught her in his arms and they hugged then went back into the house.

He watched her go. A voice purred in his ear, “You have a hot and beautiful wife. You’re about to have another”, as Harry twined arms about his blond beloved then tugged him onto the dancefloor in the living room, the lights deliberately low, a track that Harry loved, a slow soul track, he pulled his Dragon to him and kissed him senseless. Draco draped himself elegantly around Harry as they danced, returning the kiss, drunk but still igniting his beloved. They moved closer together. There were other dancers around them. Jacinta and her boyfriend. Simon?. Sebastian?. Then Cellan and his missus. Then the girls. Then Dean and Colin, their tongues down each other’s throats. Harry dived over to the boxes as the track ended and set up a smoochy soully playlist From his MP3 player. His missing Draco soundtrack, all 4 tunes. Then held his lover tight as they played, various other dancers joining them. He felt Draco’s lips brushing his, a breathy question, “What’s this album?”. Harry grinned, murmuring into his lover’s mouth, “These tracks are why I came looking for you”