Just Around the Riverbend

Jillian - I actually gave several hints that Harry wasn't himself. Times when he acted 'out of character.' Lucius himself asked Harry what had gotten into him, and Harry replied "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." So, it's not really out of left field. I enjoyed the baseball reference, though.

forsaken_dream
angeles
Voracious Reader
Jennifer
S
HarryGinny4Eva
SerinBlackmoon
hairsprayX12
hannahbanana
Labibliographe - OOoooh...so many questions, my sweet, but I promise the answers are all in my head. They'll get here eventually.
AnonymousAndrogyny - Interesting Name. Umm...Let's see if my chap answers any of your questions. I'm glad you liked the reality of Daisy's charrie. And don't forget Jacques too quickly. I actually did have them eventually finding out what Lucius did. ^_^
Alina
Beth

Wow! Such a good turnout. Thanks for your support guys. I would have had this chap up sooner, but my computer froze and I had to reboot, and my MS Word had already Autosaved an earlier version of the story, without this chap. >_< So I had to start over. But it ended up pretty good, I'll say.

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Hermione stood nervously and began to straighten out her dress. She felt Lucius stand beside her, and knew without looking that he was twitching his immaculate robes back into place. Both had gone for simple elegance tonight. Lucius was in black robes trimmed with elegant silver embroidery at the cuffs, hem, and neckline, and fastened with flat silver buttons. His undershirt was a deep forest green, and his slacks were black, and perfectly pressed.

Hermione was wearing a knee-length cotton dress of deep red, with small red ballet-flat shoes to match. She felt Lucius run his hand over her hair, and gently begin to pull in back behind her head. He secured it with a ribbon that Hermione wondered the origin of, but forgot about when he kissed her on the top of her head.

“You look good with your hair away from your face.” He said softly, and rested his hands on her shoulders. She leaned back into his chest.

“I’m really nervous. What if they still hate me for the memory charm? What if they don’t want to have anything to do with me or the baby? I haven’t spoken to them since I removed the charm.” She whimpered, and Lucius could feel her tensing up.

“Hermione. Stop analyzing things so deeply. Your parents love you, from what you’ve told me. I’m sure they were upset, and felt violated by the fact that you modified their memory, but I think they probably forgave you a long time ago. And if you are anything like your parents, the reason you all haven’t spoken is because you’re all too damned stubborn.” He said. He winced when her hand flew behind her and pinched him hard through his robes. But then she turned slightly, and looked up at him.

“Really?” she asked. He rubbed his stomach.

“Really.” He said.

The last few minutes before her parents arrived were like slow, agonizing, tortuous hell for Hermione. She supposed it was her over-the-top hormones making her want to break down and sob herself to sleep.

She could almost feel the bile rise in her throat when the large clock struck six, and began to chime. On the fourth chime her parents materialized in front of her and Lucius, and her father had to move quickly to keep her mother from falling over.

“Christ on a bicycle!” John Granger would never….ever get used to the way his daughter traveled.

“Good thing I didn’t eat that biscuit.” Janine clung to her husband for a few moments, before they both separated and dared to open their eyes. This was not their daughter’s flat. This was right out of a home magazine. They both looked around for a few moments, before their eyes finally lit on their daughter, standing with a man who oozed ‘wizard.’

“Hermione, where are- Oh my God!” Janine noticed her daughter’s swollen belly, and her eyes widened.

“Hello, mum. Hello, dad.” Hermione said softly. John stared at her for several moments, before he moved forward slowly. He came to a halt in front of his daughter, who seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible. A monstrous feat, to say the least. Her face was downcast, and her eyes were firmly on her father’s neatly laced dress shoes. John reached forward and put two fingers under his daughter’s chin, and tipped her face up. Tears were flowing steadily from her eyes, and she looked so terrified that John felt guilty. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her. As her head rested against his shoulder he heard her sniffling, and patted her hair gently.

“Oh Mione. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asked.

“I was afraid you st-still hated m-me.” Hermione hiccupped against her father. John rested his hand on his daughter’s head.

“We never hated you, duck. We felt violated when you modified our memory. We were a bit upset that you didn’t fill us in on the war. But we never hated you. Dear God. How could you ever think that?”

As Hermione and her father spoke, Janine had her eyes set on Lucius. She had locked gazes with him, and seemed dead set on staring him down. His glacial eyes held hers with no problem. He had experience with people trying to intimidate him. And this bite of a woman, no matter whose mum she was, would not intimidate him. Janine moved closer to Lucius, her eyes never wavering, until she came to stand right in front of him.

It was clear to see who Hermione looked like. Hermione was just a younger version of her mother, and Lucius actually found the thought comforting. Janine’s hair was curly like Hermione’s, and was held with a hair claw behind her head. Her eyes were light brown, and her age was betrayed by a few lines around her eyes and mouth. Her stature was petite, but curvy, and she held herself with proud assurance.

“Are you the father?” Janine asked suddenly. Lucius regarded the woman for a few moments.

“I am-” he was interrupted by a stinging slap to the face. Sweet Merlin! They were definitely related! The little harpy actually turned his head!

He resisted the urge to touch the burning mark, and merely turned his head back to Hermione’s mother, who now looked livid. John had let go of Hermione, and moved forward to wrap his arms around his wife to restrain her. He did not apologize to Lucius, but he did look him over curiously.

“Haven’t we seen you before? You look familiar.” John said.

“That’s the father of that horrible boy who used to bully Hermione and call her names!” Janine snapped. John’s expression darkened a little, and he narrowed his eyes a bit at Lucius.

“You impregnated a girl the same age as your son?” he asked. Lucius saw through his calm voice. This appeared to be a man who, even against the odds of an armed wizard versus an unarmed Muggle, would still fight to the death for his daughter.

“I understand your concern, Mr. Granger, but in this world age does not have so much of a stigma. We live so much longer than our Muggle counterparts. You were familiar with Headmaster Dumbledore?” he asked. The two nodded silently, still glaring. “He was one hundred and sixty-three. And he, before his untimely end, probably still had another forty years.” John and Janine looked at each other, a bit surprised. They hadn’t known wizards lived so long. They’d known Dumbledore was old….but one hundred and sixty-three? Inconceivable.

“Mum, dad. Please, I…” Hermione started.

“Did you get married without telling us?” Janine asked her daughter.

“No…we’re not married yet. That’s why we wanted to talk to you. We want you to be witnesses to the ceremony.” Hermione replied. “I wanted a small ceremony, with just a few witnesses. You two are the first ones we asked.”
Janice and John looked at each other.

“Do you love him, Hermione? Or are you just trying to ‘do the right thing?’” Janice asked. Lucius saw Hermione’s face color slightly, and she shuffled her feet.

“I love him so much it hurts sometimes. I don’t see the age difference between us. I see a smart, charming man who can have a decent conversation with me, and doesn’t feel intimidated by my abrasive personality.” Hermione admitted softly. “Sometimes we sit and debate politics, or read together. Sometimes we just sit together in the garden.” She continued, her eyes becoming faraway and dreamy.

“I love your daughter more than I ever thought possible. I have never freely admitted or shown my emotions, but if Hermione asked it of me I would wear a sign about my neck proclaiming the depth of my feelings. She and the child she carries have become my existence. She completes my family.” Lucius said, before Hermione’s parents could turn to him.

“Father, don’t forget the time she threw her shoe at you because you told her she was ‘rounding out nicely.’”
Everyone turned to see Draco leaning languidly against the door frame. Lucius’ pale face colored slightly.

“Hush, Draco. Now isn’t the time.” Lucius said sharply. Draco merely grinned.

“Or the time you both argued for an hour over who was the best poet between Dickenson and Whitman. Perhaps the time I caught you two kissing in the foyer slipped your mind? Don’t let them fool you with that romantic, lovey-dovey hogwash. They’re arse-over-elbows for each other. It’s quite nauseating, really.” Draco replied, moving close to where Hermione stood. She socked him in the arm, and he just laughed.

“Aw…don’t treat your soon-to-be-stepson so cruelly…” Draco teased.

“What an odd situation…” Janine said quietly.

“Shall we retire to dinner?” Lucius asked suddenly.

The rag-tag team of people sat awkwardly at the table. No one knew what to say. The Grangers feared confusing the wizards if they began any sort of ‘normal’ conversation, and Lucius didn’t want to offend the Grangers, considering who he was getting ready to marry. Draco looked at them all with and annoyed gray gaze.

“This is the most awkward silence I’ve been in since Pansy asked Millicent what size her bra was.” Draco commented. Hermione choked on her grilled chicken, and her mother patted her back while she caught her breath.

“Merlin, Draco. How inappropriate.” Lucius said disapprovingly. John cleared his throat.

“There’s so much that needs to be said between all of us. But I’m not so sure this is the time to say it. We have…a very long time to get used to each other. We have a long time to figure things out. I think right now we should just concentrate on getting you two married, and then the birth of the baby, and then we can start from there.” He said. “The past is exactly that, the past. We should leave it where the past belongs and work on the present and future.”

“Very wise, Mr. Granger.” Lucius said.

“You may as well call me John.” The man replied, looking a bit awkward.

“Then I ask you to call me Lucius.” The blonde returned evenly.

“So…will you be in the ceremony?” Hermione asked. John and Janine looked at each other, but then Janine answered for them.

“Of course we will, dearest. We didn’t know you thought we hated you. We’ve missed so much of your life, Hermione. We don’t want to miss any more.” She said softly. Hermione, overcome with emotion, began to sniffle softly, and her eyes filled with tears. Janine, seated next to her daughter, put her arm around her and let Hermione scoot close to bury her face into her mother’s shoulder. The men sat in awkward silence. When Hermione finally pulled away to finish her meal, she noticed Draco looking around the table with an amused expression.

“What?” she asked. His gray gaze rested on her, and he merely smirked.

“Christmas is going to be awkward.”

~~

Hooves pawed nervously at the ground, and the sound of murmuring voices could be heard in the forest. A large group of centaurs were gathered underneath a huge tree, it’s winter-bare branches casting skeletal shadows in the light of the setting sun.

“Arbino, what should we do?” a female asked their leader, the snow-white centaur named Arbino.

“Mars is bright tonight. It is disconcerting. And dear sister Venus appears faded and worn. These signs cannot be ignored. There is something dark in the world. The Unicorn mares are having difficulties with their foals. The young are skittish, and have even struck out at their fathers.

I fear it is as it was only three turns of the earth ago. The Black One is back.” Arbino spoke slowly but loudly so that the entire group could hear him. When he finished speaking, two of the centaurs looked at each other. Jed and Forge were not strangers to what the Black One could do. His followers, the skull-faces, had taken their mother from them.

“Should someone tell the humans? They were most oblivious last time, and it nearly cost them their world.” Jed offered. A few of the older centaurs looked at them, their dislike of the humans evident in the way they sneered at the suggestion.

“They are oblivious most of the time.” Arbino replied easily. “There are not many in their world who are our allies. But there is one we can tell. Daisy can be trusted.”

“She did heal The Tree.”

“Her archery was passable.”

“She was so small. What can she do?”

The voices were getting louder and louder, and finally Arbino bayed angrily, silencing them immediately.

“I will send a scout to inform Daisy of the Black One. She can do with the information what she wants to.”

“Let us go, Arbino!” Forge said quickly.

“We will tell her! Let us help.” Jed added. Immediately the rest of the herd began to tell Arbino how untrustworthy the two were, and the white herd-leader watched the faces of the two young warriors fall.

“Very well.” He said suddenly. The two looked up. “Fill your quivers in the event of trouble. Sharpen your knives and be ready to fight. Speak to no on but Daisy. You may have to go directly to the door of the castle to get her. Tell her that and leave.” Arbino said firmly.

“Arbino! Those two are menaces!”

“They tried to kill the Tree Healer!”

“You cannot-”

Arbino slapped the Centaur who spoke those words. “Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do within my herd. They will never learn if they are not given responsibility. If they fail this mission their backs will bear the marks, not yours. Mind the business of your own.”

~~

A few days later, Daisy sat at the desk in her room, her quill scratching diligently against the parchment. She had finally caught up with the work that had fallen behind while Phelan was in the Infirmary. Once he’d gotten a semblance of his voice back, he’d basically told her he’d tan her arse from her spine to the backs of her knees if she got behind in school work. And, not wanting to test her husband’s temper, she had begrudgingly left his side to finish her work.

This was her final essay, due in Potions tomorrow, on the effects of spearmint in the scaly-skin ointment. Gross.

She was startled out of her deep concentration by the sound of the portrait opening. She pushed back her chair and padded to the main room in time to see Phelan closing the door behind him. He had a lost a bit of weight, and his hair was mussed and barely washed, and he had stubble from a few days of not shaving, but other than that he had escaped his brush with a silvery death.

He was breathing a bit harder than normal, and his eyes were red as if he’d gotten dirt in them, but he was pleased with the fact that his eyesight was unharmed.

“Phelan! You’re back!” Daisy said happily, and ran to him. He braced himself for the impact of her wrapping her arms around him, and he gently patted her head. She pulled back after a few moments. “You need a shower.” She said, and turned to run at the glint of annoyance in his eyes. He was much faster, however, and gave her a sharp whack across the bottom, to which she responded with a giggle.

“You need your arse walloped, you mouthy wench.” He mumbled. “That was actually the first place I was going. And unless you want to join me, you’ll go finish your homework.” He finished. She groaned, and started shuffling back towards the work-room. He smacked her bottom again, and she squealed and ran the rest of the way. “Such attitude!” he said with a fond grin.

He went into the bedroom to get a change of clothes, but was interrupted on his way there by the sound of knocking from their portrait entrance.

“I’ll get it! If you move from that desk there’ll be hell to pay!” Phelan shouted.

“You’re a slave-driver!” Daisy yelled back. Phelan only smirked as he arrived at the portrait. When he pushed it open, he was surprised to see the headmaster standing there.

“What’s wrong?” Phelan asked, seeing the odd expression on his face.

“Miss Melfy has visitors at the entrance.” Denebola said. Visitors indeed…

“Who is it? Did Mr. Malfoy come here?” Phelan asked curiously.

“No. Centaurs. And they’ll speak to no one but ‘Miss Daisy.’” The Headmaster replied, intoning the name exactly as the centaurs had. It was exceedingly rare that the centaurs left the forest. It was even more so if they approached the castle.

Phelan frowned. He knew that Daisy had befriended the centaurs in the forest when she’d run away. But what business did they have with her?

“Daisy!” Phelan turned his head and shouted.

“What? I’m working on my homework you insufferable mangy Dom!” Daisy shot back. Phelan felt himself flush when he heard the Headmaster trying not to laugh.

“Get in here! The Headmaster needs to see you!” he called back. Daisy was at the doorway in seconds, looking embarrassed.

“Oh! Sorry. What is it, Headmaster?” she asked.

“There are two centaurs to see you. They insist their message is of the utmost importance, but they will only convey it to you.” He said.

“Who are they?” Daisy asked, not looking at all fazed by the information.

“They called themselves Jed and Forge.” The Headmaster replied.

“Oh! Those two? I guess Arbino must have sent them for some reason. Can I go see what they need?” Daisy asked, turning to Phelan. His grey eyebrows nearly reached his hairline.

“If centaurs came all the way from the forest in Wiltshire to see me, and came up to the doors of Hogwarts, I’d definitely go see what they wanted.” Phelan said. The Headmaster stepped out of the way, and Daisy walked from the room. “I’m going to stay here and shower. You can fill me in when you return.” He said, the desire for a hot shower overpowering his curiosity for the moment.

“Sureness.” Daisy said, and she and the crimson-eyed headmaster started down the hallway. Phelan closed the Portrait, and sighed.

“Fuck. I married an ambassador to the god-forsaken wilderness.”

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So? What do you think?