Just Around the Riverbend

Okay, kids. Sorry this took longer than I thought it would. Well, we were having an electrical storm, and the lightning knocked off my cable, and my power for a little bit. I didn't hve enough battery to finish a chap, so I just saved and waited. It took them THREE EFFING DAYS to fix my cable and internet, and I was a frothing mess by then. I had to resort to watching my old DISNEY VHS TAPES for entertainment. Damn I hate not having cables. On the other hand, I realized how full of suck Disney is today, and that dear old Walt must be continually spinning in his grave for what they've done to his name.

Anyway, enough of my nattering. I have some people to acknowledge.

Voracious Reader
loisa
Jennifer
alina
hairsprayX12
april
alina
angeles
HarryGinny4Eva

Labibliographe - I don't think he would have gone for a girl who wasn't as fresh as possible. He did have incredible luck in getting a virgin. I have interesting plans for her, and I plan to have a little smut in the next chapter as well. >_< And I promise all of these twisting threads will come together quite neatly in the end. It's all up here *taps head* and it works up there. I just got to translate that onto the computer.

hannahbanana

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“He what?” Phelan bellowed. He began immediately pacing in front of his wife, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in alarm, and his teeth bared angrily. She had just supplied him with the most alarming news. The Dork Lord appeared to have returned, again, and her centaur friends were the first to notice it. “Why can’t he keep his mouldy arse in the grave?”

“Most disturbing.” Tom commented softly, absent-mindedly reaching up to stroke the pocket that Lucy resided in. Her head poked out of the soft resting place, aware her Master was upset.

“What should we do? I told the Headmaster I’d tell him what the centaurs said after dinner tonight.” Daisy said, nervously tugging at her long hair. The gravity of what this meant was slowly sinking in. The Dark Lord had wreaked havoc on this world. He had pitted brothers against each other, he had killed mothers and fathers, and he had nearly destroyed the government from the inside. He was a dangerous man.

“I believe the Headmaster can be trusted. The Dark Lord hated any who weren’t human, and although our esteemed Headmaster’s vampiric inheritance is only marginal, it is still enough to mark him as a target by You-Know-Who.” Tom said.

“Should we contact Harry as well?” Daisy asked.

“Not tonight. Even if the Dark Lord is back already, he won’t make his move yet. We’ll contact Potter later. Better yet, he’ll be at the school at that celebration thing.” Phelan said, and Tom nodded silently.

“What if You-Know-Who tries to get into the school?” Daisy asked. Both Phelan and Tom shook their heads.

“Hogwarts was a target that didn’t come easily. He only got in once by force, and it was with help from the inside. No, he won’t force his way in like that.” Tom said, his Slytherin mind beginning to come to life. “He’ll bide his time until there’s a strategic opportunity. We need to alert Potter before the Celebration. That’ll be when Volders tries to make a move. There will be Ministry Officials, citizens, war heroes, and Harry Potter himself. It’s the perfect target.”

“Let him come.” Phelan snarled, gnashing his teeth angrily. “I’ll tear him apart.” Here he crooked his fingers and his claws extended, making Tom shiver slightly at the ferocity in the young Lycan’s voice. Daisy put her hand on Phelan’s bare arm.

“Don’t get yourself killed. You’re everything to me, and I would die without you.” And he found himself with an armful of trembling witch. Tom watched as Phelan’s claws retracted, and he held his child-wife to him closely, a strange look on his face.

“I would die to protect you, Daisy. I would face the Dick Lord himself if it would keep you safe.” Phelan said. Tom snorted at the nickname that Phelan had bestowed upon Voldemort, and Phelan seemed to notice he was there. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Hmm…while I’m here, Greyback, I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Tom asked. “I’m doing my DADA research project on werewolves and I was hoping you might answer a few questions for me. I’d also like to sketch you if you’re available to transform.” The boy said. Phelan looked a bit annoyed.

“Am I a circus performer to be ogled on cue? Do I appear to be a clown for your entertainment?” he asked testily.

“No. I wanted to get a face-to-muzzle interview with a werewolf. I’ve got questions. And I wanted to sketch you in a relaxed position. Most of the sketches of transformed werewolves are of pouncing, and clawing, and biting wolves. Though it sounds absolutely boring, I would like a sketch of you just…lounging. Maybe a picture of you standing so I can do a bit on the muscular formation in werewolves, and how it differs from normal wolves.” Tom said. Phelan blinked, but then shrugged.

“If I just have to sit there, we can do it this weekend. But for now, I have to get ready for dinner, and have a private conversation with my wife.” Phelan said. Tom nodded gracefully, and saw himself to the portrait entrance.

“Very good. Enjoy your evening, friends.” He said, and left quietly. Daisy was still pressed close to Phelan and had her ear against his chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. He held her for a considerable amount of time, before he began to speak.

“This development is disturbing, but it is not insurmountable. We will put Moldy Voldie back where he belongs: which is hell. I just hope he doesn’t do too much damage from now until then.” Phelan murmured. He lowered his head slightly, and began to nibble at Daisy’s ear, causing her to giggle. “Let us forget about that horrid old snake, for now. I believe I was to have a conversation with you.” Phelan said devilishly. “I think the best place to have this conversation is the sofa.” He separated himself from her, and turned to go to the couch. He was surprised, however, when he felt a pinch on his backside. He whirled around, shocked, to see Daisy looking smug.

“You’re not the only one who can pinch an ass.” Daisy answered. She was getting bolder. And it was to be expected, Phelan supposed. As they got to know each other, Daisy became daring in her affections. A few weeks ago, when Daisy had woken up with a nightmare, and Phelan had allowed her to come to his bed, he’d awoken the next morning to her curiously touching his torso. She’d claimed she was ‘getting to know him.’ His furry arse…she was feeling him up while he slept! He was surprised he hadn’t caught her with her hand down his pants trying to ‘get to know’ his equipment.

Not that he would have minded…

~~

Aladfar Denebola felt that he was an emotionally sturdy individual. He had seen things in his life that made him question humanity, and he had seen things in his life that made him question vampiricy. He had never, however, heard of anyone rising from the dead. Except one. This particular wizard had recruited his grandfather, and had subsequently been the cause of the Immortal’s death.

And now, there was a thirteen year old American witch sitting in front of him telling him that said wizard was back. Again.

“And the centaurs told you this?” Denebola asked. Daisy nodded. “Bloody fucking hell.” The Headmaster mumbled. He turned to face the wall that held the previous Headmasters, and sought out the one containing Albus Dumbledore. “Albus?” he inquired. The portrait had been watching and listening the entire time, and tilted his head curiously.

“Yes, my boy?” Albus returned lightly.

“What should be done? Should I attempt to contact Potter? I thought the Dark Lord was dead for sure. You said once all of the horcruxes-” and here the portrait interrupted Denebola with a cough, looking as though to tell him to hush.

“That was never to be mentioned to the general public. Only the Order knew. I am curious to know how you came across the information…” Albus said. Denebola only smiled, and his crimson eyes gleamed mischievously.

“I have my ways. You said they were all destroyed, though. All six were gathered and destroyed. How can he still be alive?” Denebola asked. Dumbledore frowned, and began to stroke his beard.

“I wonder…I susptected, but I’d hoped…” he mumbled, before closing his eyes in thought. There was several moments of silence, before Denebola began to get impatient.

“Albus?” But he was rewarded by a snore from the portrait. The bloody old fool had gone to sleep! “ALBUS!” Aladfar yelled. But the portrait slept on. Aladfar let out a curse so foul that he heard Daisy gasp behind him, and he turned, looking chagrined. “I apologize, Miss Melfy, Mr. Greyback. Let us adjourn this meeting. Curfew is approaching, and I would hate it if you were bothered by the Caretaker on my account.” He said genially

“Should I floo my cousin?” Daisy asked. And Denebola thought hard on this. Lucius was a firm supporter of the Dark Lord the first time, and a mediocre supporter of his the second. He had lost a great deal after his defeat, and was gaining a great deal in his absence. He had a Muggleborn lover, pregnant with his child, and rumor had it she’d been seen with an engagement ring. Lucius was nothing if not fierce in his protections.

“Not tonight, child. It’s late, and what you said Tom Rowan told you is correct. The Dark Lord was nothing if not strategic. He will not strike immediately. I will talk to the Minister tomorrow about having some extra security at the school during the celebration. I will supply you with the powder to floo-call your cousin tomorrow. Mr. Potter may have to be called to the school.”

And with that, the meeting was adjourned, and Phelan and Daisy went back to their room to contemplate what had happened that day.

~~

Lucius, Hermione, John, and Janine talked late into the evening about the upcoming wedding. Lucius and Hermione wanted to do it as soon as possible, while John and Janine wanted to take a little longer for the planning. Janine wanted her daughter to have a nice dress, even though the only people to see it would be those in the room and a few more. Hermione didn’t want to go to that trouble, but Lucius had thought it a splendid idea.

He wanted Hermione to have good memories of the service, small as it would be. He wanted her to have something tangible, like a dress, to hold with fond memories. And when he had put it that way, Hermione had conceded the point, her eyes misty, and agreed to go shopping with her mother to find a dress. Lucius proceeded to list several places that sold very nice maternity dresses. He knew this because Narcissa had kept herself dressed to the nines up until the very last week she had carried Draco, and then she had been confined to bed rest and merely wore dressing gowns.

There was still the matter of the date being under contest. Lucius could arrange for a Ministry Officiator to come that night if he felt like it, but he knew that Hermione’s mother might attempt to murder him where he stood. So it was arranged that Hermione and her sweet mother would go to buy Hermione’s dress, and a dress for Janine to wear. Lucius and Hermione’s father would be in traditional robes. John couldn’t even begin to lie to himself and say he wasn’t excited to actually get to wear the funny clothes his daughter’s people wore. It’d be like Halloween…..except with a marriage for his daughter.

Hermione’s parents were invited to stay the night at the spacious manor and with a bit of poking from Janine, who wanted to be close to her daughter for a bit of girl talk, John finally agreed to stay overnight.
That night Lucius fell asleep quickly, but his pregnant bedmate found herself unable to drift off into slumber. She was nervous about the next day. They’d be going to a place in Wizarding London, and Hermione was nervous about all the gossip she was sure to cause shopping for a wedding gown looking the way she did.

She also realized that the neighboring Muggle town had the best milkshakes she’d ever had in her life. Then, at nearly three in the morning, she found herself with one of the only cravings she’d really had.

~~

“Lucius…”

The voice was faraway, and soft, yet it was accompanied by a gentle shake. He raised his head sleepily like a large, bleary cat.

“What’s’a matter?” he asked.

“Lucius…I’m…I’m hungry.” Hermione said softly. Lucius shook his head slightly to clear the sleep.

“What?” he asked, not quite sure he’d heard. Of course Hermione had gotten up in the middle of the night for food. And he’d come across her enjoying some strange combinations. Once he’d caught her dipping a ham sandwich with mayonnaise and lettuce into chocolate ice cream. The emotional damage was irreparable.

“I’m hungry. I want ice cream.” She said, looking an amusing cross of sheepish and longing.

“We have ice cream in the kitchens, sweet. Why don’t you call an elf?” he suggested, and started to put his head back down.

“But I don’t want the ice cream we have in the kitchen. I want a milkshake.” She argued, shaking him again. He rolled over to his back, and sat up in bed, the sheets falling from his bare chest. He looked over at her, confusion clearly written across his face.

“How does one make milk shake?” he asked. If it hadn’t been such a dire situation for Hermione, she may have laughed. But for some reason, she needed a milkshake more than she’d ever needed anything in her life.

“It’s a special way that Muggles make ice cream. Go get me one, please.” She said softly. Lucius’ head snapped towards the clock in the corner, and a whispered spell lit up the face of it.

“Merlin’s shorts, Hermione. It’s three in the morning! Why do you need a milk shake now?” he asked, pronouncing the words separately and threatening to make Hermione upset.

“Because I want one really badly! I haven’t asked you for much while I’ve been pregnant, but for Merlin’s sake the one time I ask for a milkshake you won’t go get me one! You don’t love me, do you?” she asked, and promptly burst into tears. Lucius found himself floored by the change in emotion. He pulled the sobbing witch close, and petted her hair gently.

“Of course I love you. How could you doubt it? I don’t know where to get this milk shake, Hermione, but if you’ll tell me I might be able to find it.” He soothed, running his fingers over her unruly curls.

“In London. There’s an all night diner there that makes the best milkshakes ever.” She said. “Dad knows where it is. Maybe he’ll go with you.” Hermione offered. The look on Lucius’ face was priceless.

“You want me to wake your father at three in the morning to accompany me to London to get you a shaking milk?” he asked.

“It’s a milkshake!” Hermione snapped. “I’ll wake him if you’ll take him with you.” She said. Lucius said, and threw back the covers.

“You’re not going to sleep until you get this, are you?” he asked resignedly.

“No.”

“Go wake your father and I’ll be dressing.” Lucius said softly.

~~

John and Janine had fallen asleep quickly on the soft, luxurious mattress in the guest room their future son-in-law had provided for them. They lay curled up together like married folks were wont to do. John was the first to rouse when he heard a knocking at the door. He untangled himself from his wife, who complained sleepily, and went to the door in the pajamas Lucius had provided him with.

He was quite surprised to see his daughter at the door.

“Mione, dove? What’s the matter?” he asked. She looked guiltily at the floor for a moment, before turning puppy-dog eyes on her father.

“I want a milkshake from Pat’s Diner.” She said softly. And John understood immediately.

“You’re having a craving, aren’t you, love?” he asked, almost amused. She nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Your mum had me get her tacos from an all-night joint two towns over. This happened several times. I’m not sure how I can get to London and back with a milkshake, love.” He replied.

“Lucius is going to go, too. He can Apparate you to a spot in Magical London, and you can take him to the Diner. Please?” she begged.

“Oh, Hermione. You don’t have to beg me. I’ll go with Lucius to get you some ice cream.” He replied. “Why don’t you go tell your mum, and I’ll get dressed, hmm?” he suggested. Hermione nodded, and entered the room. Her father gathered his neatly folded clothes from the chair nearby, and walked into the bathroom off the side of the room. Hermione crawled onto the bed where her father had laid, the spot still warm from his body heat.
Janine opened her eyes, and smiled at her daughter.

“Dad’s going to go with Lucius to get me a milkshake.” Hermione said softly, and crawled under the covers with her mother, resting on her side.

“I heard, Mione. What other things have you craved?” Janine asked curiously, a little sad that she’d missed so much.

“I haven’t really craved anything, but I’ve eaten the oddest combinations of foods. I once had the strangest urge to dip some apple slices in ranch dressing. It…was surprisingly good.” Hermione said sheepishly. Janine giggled at her daughter.

“That’s okay. When I was about six months pregnant with you, I started freezing grapes and eating them with chocolate sauce.” Janine said. Janine reached over and ran her hands over her daughter’s protruding belly. She could feel the resulting wiggle under her fingers, and tears came to her eyes. A grandbaby. “So…do you know what you’re going to have?”

“No. We wanted it to be a surprise. We’ve got unisex colors and patterns in the nursery, and all of the toys are appropriate for either sex. We’ll be ecstatic no matter what. Lucius swears it will be a boy, and seems to think that just because he has a son he’s incapable of producing anything other than that. I just think it would be hilarious to have a girl to prove him wrong.” She said, and the two women shared a giggle.

John emerged from the bathroom, dressed completely and tucking his shirt into his dark slacks.

“So, where’s your delivery boy- er…I mean, your fiancée?” her father teased. As if to answer his question, a knock sounded on the door. “Well, if there’s nothing else that you need on this trip, then?” he asked. Hermione lifted her head and shook it slightly.

“Thanks, dad.” She replied sincerely. He waved his hand dismissively, and answered the door to see Lucius in a set of casual robes.

“Oh. Dandy.” John said, realizing they would be traveling through Muggle London this way. Lucius looked down at himself almost self-consciously.

“Does something about my attire displease you?” he asked, reverting to borderline snob when faced with uncertainty. He saw Hermione’s head snap up.

“Lucius, stop being a flouncy prick and go get the ice cream. Dad’s just worried you might get mugged in that pretty getup. Take off your outer robes and you’ll be fine.” She snerked. Lucius raised his head and sniffed, but he then slipped off the outer robes, and looked like a casually dressed business man. Janine snickered from her perch, and John saw Lucius’ pale face color ever so slightly.

“Let’s just get the Merlin-forsaken ice cream before she has kittens.” Lucius grumbled.

“They’ll be your kittens and you’ll like them!” Hermione snapped, having heard him. Lucius gave a low growl, and turned on the spot, stalking down the hall. Janine was laughing outright now, and John was chortling.

“He certainly is a lovely piece of man candy.” Her mother chuckled. Hermione gasped, her mouth turning up into a grin.

“Mum!” she said, a bit startled at her mother’s audacity.

“What! Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the arse that man has.” Her mother said. Hermione covered her face with her hands. “Oooh…I bet he’s a firecracker in bed!”

“Oh. My. God.”

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Well, Hermione, your mother seems to have warmed up to your soon-to-be hubby.

The kids at Hogwarts are getting close to a Dark secret, and Dumbledore's portrait is as useless as the old man was when he was a live. Typical.