A New Definition of Family
Chapter 14: Quidditch, Correspondence, and Conversations
Disclaimer: I must despondently report that I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe. I’m seriously considering begging JKR to let me have them, because they are just SO much fun to write about! Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine. Also, I have quoted directly from JKR’s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and I will give credit in the author note at the end.
Please join me and lift your glass (filled with your choice of festive beverage) in a toast to my dear friend and beta-extraordinaire, Lorett. If it hadn’t been for her persuasiveness, this story would not exist anywhere but in my mind.
Dear Rinna,
I’m sorry about how everything went last time. I hope you aren’t too angry or anything. I just wanted to let you know that I looked up your broom in that book you gave me, and it is worth a lot now. So, you should probably consider coming over to retrieve it because Charlie keeps mooning over it like it was his girlfriend, and I don’t think any of us will be able to stop him if he decides to elope with it!
Anyway, Mrs. Weasley has been wondering when you are going to come to get your things, and I think she is going to invite you for dinner soon. I hope you’ll come. I still haven’t had a chance to talk with you about my mum.
Sincerely,
Harry
----- -----
Rinna luv,
It has been nearly two weeks, where have you been? Now you know I don’t like to meddle, dear, but really! Harry has been moping about, looking at that album you’ve left him. You know that he found out in just a matter of a few weeks that he had a godfather AND a godmother, and yet neither of them has been available to him. Really, that is as cruel as dangling a ferret in front of a hippogriff and snatching it away!
I suspect that you are feeling embarrassed about all the incidents with Sirius. I hope you can put all that behind you and come to dinner, say tomorrow night, or the night after? You do have your broom and clothes to pick up, and it is not too late to set things right with your godson, you know.
I only say these things because I care about you, dear.
Love,
Molly
----- -----
Dear Molly,
It is reassuring to me to know that your mastery of laying on the guilt in thick layers like jam has not diminished one iota! Yes, I am embarrassed and feeling like an utter idiot about those fiascos with Sirius. Yes, I feel like complete dragon dung for disappearing from Harry’s life after dropping off that album. Yes, I will accept your invitation to dinner, but it will have to be the night after tomorrow due to work. I will try not to disappoint you and incur any more of your wrath.
And since when have you not liked to meddle?!
Thank you for loving me and mothering me and please, next time, try not to hold back on the scathing tongue-lashing.
Love,
Rinna
----- -----
Dear Harry,
Thanks for letting me know about the invitation. I’ve actually just responded; I’m coming to dinner the day after tomorrow.
Please know that I was never angry with you, Harry. I’m rather embarrassed at my behavior, and I’m afraid you’ve probably gotten a miserable impression of me so far. So, I’m hoping to rectify that in a few days. I’ll try to behave myself! And we shall definitely take some time to talk about your mum. I really do want you to know what an amazing person she was.
As for my Silver Dart… please make sure that Charlie isn’t drooling on it, or pawing it needlessly. And for Merlin’s sake, do NOT let him abscond with it! I am trusting you to guard the virtue of my broom, Harry. I know you are up to the task!
Hoping to do a better job of being your godmother,
Rinna
Arthur Weasley burst into the Burrow and shouted triumphantly, “I’ve got ‘em! I’ve got ‘em! Box seats! What do you think of that, eh?” His announcement was greeted by a chorus of cheers. Arthur looked around the dinner table at the people gathered there until his eyes locked onto his wife. “Sorry about being late to dinner, dear, but this makes up for being called in on my day off, don’t you think?” he grinned at her.
“Well, I suppose,” Molly said grudgingly, but there was a smile on her face.
“Nonsense!” said Arthur, “Of course it does!” He came up behind his wife and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you know what this means, my love?” he asked Molly.
“I presume that we will be breaking out the old tent?” she supplied.
“Yes!” He pounded his fist on the table in emphasis. “We shall be breaking out the old tent!”
Another round of hurrahs and whistles went up, nearly deafening everyone there. Arthur moved along the table as he navigated his way to his seat, placing a hand on Rinna’s shoulder for a quick squeeze as he passed her. “Well, here’s my wayward girl! Good to see you, Rinna,” he said. “You will be joining us, I trust, in the Top Box?” His exultant look threatened to split his face right in half.
Baffled as she was, Rinna couldn’t help but smile at all the infectious excitement, and especially the jubilant expression that Arthur wore. She shrugged apologetically. “Well, I suppose I could, IF I knew what you all were going on about.”
Arthur looked at her incredulously as he took his seat. “What? Have you forgotten that England is hosting the Quidditch World Cup?”
Rinna’s mouth made an O of realization. She was surprised to be included in the Weasleys’ plans, especially since such choice seats were hard to come by, and, honestly, she hadn’t expected to be adopted so seamlessly back into the family fold after so many years out of touch. Better to let them think that she had forgotten. “Goodness, that’s Monday, isn’t it?”
“You are coming, aren’t you?” Arthur and Harry spoke at the same time.
As Rinna’s gaze moved from Arthur to Harry, her heart gave a little wrench to see the eager, hopeful look on his face. There was no way out of it, not if she didn’t want to be a huge disappointment to her godson, again. Besides… they were Top Box seats! She grinned at Harry. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the Galleons at Gringotts!”
Harry gave her his high-voltage grin and bobbed in his seat with emphasis, “Brilliant!”
Rinna resolved that she would make damned sure that Harry had more occasions to wear that dazzling smile. She looked around the room at all the happy faces; there was no way in hell she was missing this opportunity. She’d just have to tell Dorrie to find someone else to use the ticket she’d already purchased with her Auror friend.
Harry stepped out to the back porch, looking for his godmother. He found her down by Mrs. Weasley’s rosebushes, and he swallowed nervously when he noticed which bush she was inspecting. He cleared his throat and said, “I’ve brought out some cookies…”
She turned and eyed the plate he was carrying. “Mmm… Chocolate chip.” She took one and bit into it. “Molly makes the best chocolate chip cookies.” She licked the melted chocolate from the still-warm-from-the-oven cookie off her fingers.
Harry mumbled agreement around his third cookie, and following her lead, licked his fingers too. Rinna cocked her head and looked at him. “So,” she said softly, “is Sirius still here?” She almost laughed at the expression on his face: like he’d been caught filching the cookies he’d brought her.
He swallowed and answered, “Uh, no, not anymore. He left before the full moon. Said he was going to spend it with Professor Lupin.” He tried to read her expression, but it was difficult to do in the deepening twilight. “How did you know?”
Harry was relieved to hear a low chuckle. “It took me a few days to remember where I’d seen a rose like that before. And it seemed peculiar to me that it wasn’t delivered by owl like the last one he sent me, but left on my doorstep instead… unless, it was so I wouldn’t see the owl that delivered it and recognize her snowy white plumage?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I just put together the facts and concluded he was here.”
Harry hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking on his part, but she sounded a little disappointed that Sirius was gone. Something she’d said caused his brows to come together. “Hang on, he sent you another rose?”
She chuckled again, “Yes, the day after I made such an ass of myself when I’d read that letter…” Harry could tell she was smiling when she said, “It’s classic Sirius, really. Sending me an anonymous rose by owl…”
Her voice definitely sounded dreamy. Harry grinned. This was promising. “You know what I think?” he asked. His tone practically dripped with I know something you don’t.
“What?” was the amused reply as Rinna crossed her arms.
“I think he wants to get back together with you.”
Rinna stared at him and a bizarre image popped into her head of Harry ghost-writing the “Dear Alberta” column in the Sunday Prophet. She was quiet for a spell before she said, more to herself than Harry, “Yeah, but I don’t understand why he would.”
Harry gave a small snort. “Well, I don’t understand it either.” Then he realized the words came out sounding wrong. “I- I mean, I don’t get why it has to be so hard. He likes you… you like him… you were engaged…”
She eyed him sharply. “Did he tell you that?”
Harry looked a little sheepish. “Ah, no. I figured it out from the pictures you gave me.”
“I thought I…”
“The concealment charm got broken,” he hastily explained. She studied him suspiciously, but did not press for more details. “So… why don’t you just get back together?” he asked.
Rinna sighed. “I wish it were that easy, Harry, but it’s not. It’s…”
“Let me guess…” he said sardonically, “complicated?”
Her expression was inscrutable as she studied him. “That would be an excellent one-word summary, yes.”
Harry asked, “Is it because he’s a fugitive?”
“Well, that certainly makes it more challenging, but…” He was looking at her, with serious green eyes that reminded her of his mother. Lily never would have let her off without detailed clarification, and she suspected Harry had inherited her tenacity. Rinna took a deep breath, and huffed it out through her mouth. “The difficulty, Harry, is that I wronged your godfather. I broke faith with him, and the fact is you can’t just mend trust overnight. It takes time to rebuild a relationship after something like that, and it needs to be done slowly and carefully… Do you understand what I mean?”
Harry contemplated this, then nodded his head slowly. “Kind of like with you and me, right?”
A lump suddenly formed in Rinna’s throat and her heart did a funny ka-thunk in her chest. “Right,” she croaked in a whisper, unable to trust her voice to be steady. Once again her godson had swept inside her defenses with his scruffy hair and his mother’s eyes and his indomitable spirit and snatched away a piece of her heart like it was a Snitch. What chance did she have against the combined play of Harry the Seeker and Sirius the Chaser?
Harry heard the odd choke in Rinna’s answer. “Okay, I’ll shut it now if you’d like.”
Rinna cleared her throat. “No, that’s alright. Maybe we should go sit down though. And I think a change of topic would be good.”
“Sure,” said Harry, turning for the porch. “Will you tell me something about my mum?”
Rinna felt a new-found appreciation for the Muggle saying out of the frying pan, into the fire, but she was ready. “I will,” she assured him. “Would you like to hear more about how we became friends?” She was treated to her second exposure of the evening to the megawatt grin.
Harry was ecstatic over the wealth of information he discovered about his mum. He kept asking question after question, storing up everything Rinna told him for later pondering. He was sorely disappointed that their talk had to end, because he’d really only scratched the surface of what he wanted to know, but he believed Rinna when she told him that they would have more talks like this one in the future.
Rinna was somewhat surprised that she found it much easier to talk about Lily now than a few weeks ago. It was bizarre, but once she started, she found it really not that painful to tell more and more about her beloved and sorely missed friend. She still let Harry lead the conversation, though, by asking the things he wanted to know, respecting that this was his search. In the end, although she still felt an aching sadness for her loss, she experienced a sense of contentment that someone else was now able to appreciate just how wonderful a person Lily Evans Potter had been.
Rinna looked up into the stadium and saw the Top Box the Ministry witch had indicated. She hoped she’d given herself plenty of time; being late for the start of the Quidditch World Cup would do nothing to further her cause to get back in the good graces her godson. Actually, she felt that the two of them had made some good headway the other night after dinner, but that didn’t stop her from being concerned about her fledgling relationship with Harry. She was hoping to continue the salvaging of it tonight, especially if she was even considering Dumbledore’s crazy proposal to teach at Hogwarts (which she was, seriously).
Her musings had carried her up the purple carpeted steps to the top of the stadium, and she was relieved to see she had minutes to spare. Charlie caught her eye as she looked around the box and he waved enthusiastically. The buzzing excitement and infectious smiles everywhere caused Rinna to grin as she made her way to the Weasleys.
“Hello, old girl,” Arthur greeted her warmly with a kiss to the cheek. “Glad you could make it.”
“These are fantastic seats! I can’t thank you enough for…” she began, slightly breathless from her climb.
“Nonsense. This is a family outing, and you are family, Rinna. Naturally, you’d be included,” he smiled at her paternally.
Rinna returned his smile gratefully, then turned and said, “Hullo, Harry, Hermione, Ron.” She was greeted enthusiastically.
Harry grinned at her. “Isn’t this fantastic?” She nodded in agreement, grinning even more in response to their three excited, happy faces. The youngsters started talking animatedly about everything they’d seen so far. They were interrupted by the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, who had the Bulgarian Minister in tow. Rinna moved away and quietly watched as Harry became the center of interest.
“Poor kid. He looks uncomfortable with all the attention.”
Rinna spun around at the voice to find Bill at her shoulder, watching the scene with her. He smiled at her in greeting and continued, “At least he hasn’t gotten a swollen head, well as far as I can tell. He seems like a nice lad, in spite of how he was treated by those awful Muggles.”
“Yes …” she began, but her train of thought was derailed by the sight of a family of light blond heads. Malfoy. Of course, Rinna girl, you couldn’t expect to slip back into the wizarding world without running into some old school mates, now could you? She snorted, amused that her mind was already schooling her for a politely fake interaction. ‘School mate’ indeed! Rinna had few fond memories of Lucius Malfoy from her early years at Hogwarts, and she remembered who it was that Lucius had supported during the war.
She watched Malfoy shake hands with Fudge, and then turn to Arthur with a contemptuous look. She barely heard Malfoy’s soft slur: “Good lord, Arthur, what did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?” The Minister of Magic, of course, missed the insulting comment and continued to prattle on.*
Rinna plastered on an impassive smile just as Malfoy’s cold grey eyes swept across the row of red-heads, stopping suddenly and returning to her face. His eyes widened slightly, and then he smirked. “Arinna Dunlevy. What a pleasant surprise,” he said, his voice as smooth as polished marble.
The expression on Rinna’s face did not change. “Lucius.” Her voice was genial and neutral.
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione in surprise. “She knows him?” he mouthed silently to them. They both shrugged.
“This is quite a coincidence,” Malfoy continued, “to see you here just days after your application crossed my desk.” Rinna quirked an eyebrow at him. “I am on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, you realize.”
Rinna nodded her head gracefully. “Of course.” Inwardly she cringed, for she hadn’t intended to say anything to Harry or the Weasleys unless she was actually formally offered the position at Hogwarts.
Hermione grabbed Harry’s elbow tightly. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. Harry and Ron nodded, never taking their eyes off the scene.
“You’ll remember my wife, Narcissa, of course,” Malfoy commented in an unctuous manner, “and this is my son, Draco.” Rinna inclined her head to each, but before she could say anything, Malfoy spoke again. “Tell me, Arinna, you never married then? Narcissa informed me you were engaged to be wed to her black sheep of a cousin.”
Rinna gazed at him, inwardly seething. He was baiting her; she could tell from his eyes, hard grey eyes that held a hint of malice. Well, she knew the rules of engagement in skirmishes such as this; one couldn’t belong to a Pure-blooded family without learning the game and playing it in one form or another in one’s life. She lifted her chin, and replied coolly, smile still etched on her face, “Yes, I was to marry her cousin, but as you well know, certain circumstances prevented that from happening.”
He chuckled as if she had said something witty. “Ah yes, I suppose it would be hard to wed a murderer when he was serving a life term in Azkaban.”
By this point, the Trio was exchanging uncomfortable glances with the rest of the Weasley clan, who were clenching and unclenching their fists. Harry realized he had actually raised his when Draco Malfoy caught his eye and sneered, looking as if he was daring (and perhaps hoping for) Harry to start any trouble.
Rinna wanted to punch the smirk right off Lucius Malfoy’s face, but years of upbringing and training in the Pure-blooded world, as well as useful skills learned in the Order, those deep breathing exercises do come in handy now and then, kept her in check. It should have bothered her, how easily she slipped back into the game, like her foot slipped into a comfortable shoe, but she was too busy feeling the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her mind was analyzing and plotting at lightning speed.
“I’m wondering, Lucius,” she said pleasantly, as if she were talking about how nice the summer evening was, “if there is a point to our lovely conversation, because, riveting as it is, I think I could better spend my time enjoying the sights.” She gestured around the stadium and then presented him with a saccharine-sweet smile.
Rinna was rewarded by the barest of twitches in Malfoy’s upper lip. “Really, Arinna, can’t I just be curious about an old school mate?”
Rinna mentally snorted at that. “Dear Lucius, do I have to remind you that we spent only three years at Hogwarts at the same time, two of which you completely ignored my existence and the final of which you made my life quite hellish because you labeled me a blood-traitor?” Her voice, remarkably, was still quite aloof.
Harry’s head snapped up at that interesting bit of information.
Malfoy fixed Rinna with a look of frosty disdain. “I must say, when I looked at your file, I was quite surprised when I made the connection between the woman with that impeccable resume and the little girl who caused so much trouble at Hogwarts because she couldn’t seem to pick the right friends.” He stopped to flick a condescending glance up and down the row at the Weasleys surrounding her. “But then, I see that you are still associating with red-headed riff-raff.” The temperature in the Top Box suddenly seemed to drop to sub-arctic levels. Malfoy snickered to himself triumphantly when he saw a muscle twitch in Rinna’s jaw.
Rinna’s green eyes snapped. “The Weasleys took me in after my parents were killed, Malfoy.” Then her voice dropped in pitch. “An event that I believe you are also well aware of.” Her tone was positively glacial.
Grey eyes narrowed. “You should be careful of what you imply, my dear, especially since I have some say in whether or not you will be offered this position you seek at Hogwarts,” Malfoy replied in a soft, intimidating voice. The hostile tension in the box was palpable.
Everyone observing the scene jumped in surprise when Rinna threw back her head and laughed. “Lucius Malfoy, you’d be a fool if you thought that I had everything riding on this one position. I have submitted that very same application to schools all across the Continent. I am sure one of them would be pleased to have someone with my credentials working for them.” Her smile was full of derision. “Now, I believe we have a Quidditch match to watch.”
Harry was dumbfounded by the whole scene, but nothing prepared him for what happened next. Having so tacitly dismissed the very affronted Lucius Malfoy, Rinna turned and graciously took Narcissa Malfoy’s hand. “It was nice to see you again after all these years, Cissy,” she said sincerely.
Narcissa looked at her with unreadable blue eyes. “It was a pleasure to see you, too, Rinna,” she murmured, before turning away completely to find her seat.
Draco Malfoy shot the Trio a look of contempt before joining his parents, but Harry hardly noticed. “Did you hear that?” he hissed at Ron and Hermione. “What she called her?”
“Yeah, she called her ‘Cissy.’ What’s the big deal?” Ron whispered. “I’m more interested in knowing what that talk of a position at Hogwarts was...”
“No,” Harry sputtered impatiently, “What Mrs. Malfoy called Rinna.”
Hermione was puzzled. “I’m not following you, Harry. She called her ‘Rinna.’”
Harry was utterly frustrated by their obtuseness. “She told me that only her friends call her Rinna…” he said, trailing off significantly.
Hermione’s eyes widened as Ron said under his breath, “Blimey. D’you think she was friends with Malfoy’s mother back at school?”
Whatever reply Harry was going to make was interrupted as Ludo Bagman blustered into the Top Box. “Minister,” he addressed Fudge, “ready to go?” When Fudge answered in the affirmative, Bagman spoke the sonorous spell, and his amplified voice welcomed the spectators to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup. All eyes focused forward on the stadium, and the altercation between Rinna and Lucius Malfoy was forgotten as the team mascots began their shows.
After the spectacular ending of the match (Bulgaria 160, Ireland 170), and after the Quidditch World Cup had been handed to the Irish team and they had taken a last victory lap, and after Fred and George had demanded their payment for the bet they’d made with Ludo Bagman on the outcome of the game, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry and Rinna gradually made their way down the purple stairs and out of the stadium. While Arthur was admonishing the twins to not tell their mother they had been gambling, the rest of the group was talking animatedly about the astonishing outcome of the match.
They reached the Weasleys’ campsite, and Arthur, realizing no one would be able to fall asleep right away with all the boisterous celebrating going on, invited Rinna to join them for a cup of hot cocoa. She hesitated. At some point someone will remember my little tête-à-tête with Malfoy and ask questions, she thought. Then she looked at Harry, laughing with his friends, and realized she didn’t have the heart to go. She smiled at Arthur and thanked him. Soon everyone was sitting in the tent, mugs in hand.
Rinna felt content as she sat and listened, and participated, as the group enthusiastically recalled various plays, and argued about others, and she watched with amusement as the twins took turns reenacting them with their spoons. She laughed and cheered with the rest as George demonstrated Viktor Krum’s catching of the Snitch to end the game. So relaxed was she, that it came as a jolt not unlike being doused with a bucket of cold water when Arthur leaned over to pour more hot cocoa in her mug and said, “I say, Rinna. What was Lucius Malfoy going on about some position at Hogwarts?”
That was what she loved about Arthur Weasley: he was a get-to-the-point kind of bloke. There was no beating around the bush, no couching questions in polite terms, no innuendo or intrigue. No wonder he did not get along with most of the other Pure-bloods!
The tent had quieted to hear her answer. She gave a big sigh. “Professor Dumbledore seems to think I may be of some use to him this year,” she began, “in light of certain events that will be happening at Hogwarts…” She was interrupted by Arthur harrumphing pointedly while Charlie choked on his hot cocoa. “…that I am not at liberty to tell you about,” she cast an admonishing glance at Harry, Hermione, Ron and the twins, who all looked like they were going to ask the question. “Naturally, any staffing changes have to go through the Board of Governors, so Malfoy has apparently read my application.” She shrugged as if unconcerned.
“Would you be teaching?” wondered Hermione.
“What subject?” added Harry, remembering the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had been vacated by Professor Lupin.
“I really hadn’t planned on saying anything about it yet, mostly because the position has not been officially offered to me thus far. I’m not one for counting my chickens before they’ve hatched,” she told them, effectively avoiding answering their questions.
“What I want to know,” said Bill, his eyes twinkling, “is if you really have put in applications to other schools across the Continent?”
Rinna laughed. “You’ve called my bluff, Bill Weasley. If this does not come through, then I remain at my current place of employment.”
Ginny asked, “What do you do?”
Rinna looked directly at her, her eyes still crinkled in merriment at Bill’s impertinence. “I’m a bartender,” she said easily. Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione weren’t sure if she was serious or not, and were too taken aback to press the issue further.
The conversation had returned to Quidditch and it was getting late when Rinna downed the last of her cocoa and stood up. She raised her empty mug in salute to Arthur, and said, “Thank you for the excellent refreshments, and for a smashing evening, everyone. I’m off. Goodnight.” She smiled at Harry, who, while disgruntled that he’d not gotten any more information out of her, managed a smile back. Bill and Charlie offered to walk her safely to the Apparition Point, and they exited, one on each of her arms.
----- -----
They had reached the queue for the Apparition Point, and Rinna was about to thank the two red-headed men when she was startled to hear a cheerful voice: “Well, Arinna Dunlevy, have you come down from your Top Box to mingle with us low-landers?”
Rinna smiled and started to speak before she even turned. “Yes, Dorrie darling, but I’m sure you found yourself some handsome bloke to sit next to you and didn’t even miss me at all…” Rinna’s voice trailed off in surprise as she completed her turn and came face to face with Tonks and…
Remus Lupin was looking at her with an amused smirk and one eyebrow cocked. Rinna gaped for a long second before her wits returned to her. She shifted her gaze from Remus’ face to Tonks’. “Nice job, Dorrie. You got the best of the bunch, I see.”
Remus crossed his arms and snorted. “Smooth recovery, Rinna.”
“Years of study under the famed Marauders have made me what I am today,” Rinna quipped. She turned to the men at her side. “Charlie, Bill, I believe you know my friend Tonks: Auror, chameleon and best roommate ever.”
“Nymphadora Tonks,” Bill smiled suavely and shook her hand. “It’s great to see you again.”
“It’s just ‘Tonks,’ Bill,” she grinned at him, “and it’s good to see you, too.” She turned to his brother, “Wotcher, Charlie!”
“Tonks,” Charlie said as he bowed exaggeratedly over her hand. He straightened and looked at Remus. “Blimey, Lupin, it seems that every time we see you lately, you’re in the company of a beautiful woman!” Charlie was wearing his most charming grin as he glanced sideways at Tonks to see if she’d caught the compliment. She had, and blushed.
Remus drawled, “What can I say, Charlie? It’s a gift.” He noticed that both women were casting appreciative smiles at the dragon tamer, and felt a sudden nudge of possessiveness. To his dismay, Tonks was speaking, inviting the two Weasley upstarts to join them.
“Remus and I were going to go for drinks, if you lot want to join us?”
The lads looked tempted, but Bill sighed and said, “Thanks, but we probably should get back.” He looked at Charlie, who nodded, looking disappointed. Bill smiled at Rinna, “Having done our duty as chivalrous men of honor, madam, by seeing you safely here, and noting that you are now in the company of friends… we bid you adieu.” He executed a small bow.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and show me up, Bill. You only embarrass yourself.” He turned and grasped one of Rinna’s hands, holding it dramatically to his chest. “All my living hours will be torment from this moment until I lay eyes on you again, milady.”
Rinna laughed and extricated her hand. “You two are incorrigible flirts, did you know? Give my best to everyone; I had a wonderful time.”
The two cheerily waved and returned to the camp. Rinna turned to see Remus scowling. “They have a lot of cheek,” he grumbled. “Will your head shrink down enough that you can join us for drinks?” he asked Rinna a bit sourly.
She frowned at him. “Ha ha. I suppose you think that I get off on young men showering me with compliments and flirting outrageously with me, do you? Feeling a little out of sorts about that, are you?”
Tonks rolled her eyes. Those two picked the oddest times to go off on their little tiffs. "So, shall we go for drinks?" suggested Tonks pointedly.
Her companions looked at each other and shrugged, smiling a little ruefully. "Might as well," said Rinna, "the night is still young, and the company is good."
Harry lay gracelessly on top of the covers of the bed in the room he shared with Ron, having only managed to kick off his trainers and pull off the sweaty t-shirt he’d been wearing for the impromptu Quidditch game he and Ron, the twins and the eldest Weasley siblings had played. It had served as a means of letting off steam after the long and frightening night that had followed the Quidditch World Cup, because no matter how tired they’d felt as they staggered into the Burrow that morning, everyone had been too wound up to go right to sleep. But now, Ron was already snoring softly, and Harry was in that weird state of being aware of his surroundings but dozing at the same time.
His mind kept replaying the events of the night before, and visions of wizards in masks, terrified Muggles suspended midair, and the Dark Mark hanging low and ominous in the sky swirled together as fatigue finally claimed him and he slipped into unconsciousness. Soon the disturbing images began to meld with memories of a strange dream he’d had a few nights ago. The snake in the Dark Mark glides out of the skull and begins to slither up the stairs to a room lit by a fireplace, and Wormtail is there… he speaks to a wizard in a mask, but the mask disappears, and there is no face, only a glittering skull in the sky… an old man slumps to the floor, and is suddenly suspended in the air, upside down…and a voice comes from the antique armchair facing the fire, a voice that sounds so familiar, sounds like a woman he knows… like his godmother… “Is anyone there? Arthur? Harry? Sweet Merlin, please tell me everyone is all right?”
Harry came up from the nightmare sluggishly, willfully dragging himself into consciousness as the dream stubbornly clung to him like ankle-deep mud, sucking and adhering to him. Finally, as he clawed his way into wakefulness, he felt like there was an almost sickening slurp of suction as the dream released his mind. He gasped and sat up, tentatively bringing his hand up to rub his scar, but it only ached the tiniest bit, not like after the dream from the other night. He looked wildly around, disoriented, and saw Ron sit up, bleary-eyed.
“What is it, mate?” Ron asked, unsettled.
Harry shook his head to clear it. Then he and Ron heard voices drifting up the stairs; Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Charlie, and…Rinna. Her voice sounded very strained, and Mrs. Weasley sounded concerned. Harry grabbed a clean t-shirt and threw it on before heading for the stairs, Ron at his heels. He stopped near the bottom to listen.
“Molly, I’m sorry for barging in like that,” Rinna was clearly shaken, and her words came out in a rush. “I woke up late, and went for a run, and I finally stopped to pick up the paper and saw this,” (Harry heard the plop of a newspaper hitting the kitchen table) “and I panicked.”
Mrs. Weasley answered, “Sit down, luv. You look as transparent as a ghost. I’ll fix you some tea and we’ll tell you what happened.” Harry could hear the sound of a teapot filling with water. “Bill, be a dear, and fetch the bottle of Ogden’s for me.”
Harry could hear Bill moving toward the living room, so he stepped down the rest of the stairs rather than be caught eavesdropping. Ron followed him. Bill glanced at them as he passed. “Hey, you two.”
“I thought you were sleeping,” Mrs. Weasley said in a disapproving voice, but she set out two more teacups.
Rinna brought her hand to her forehead. “Oh no, did I wake you?” Harry noticed that she did look rather pale, and her mouth was drawn with worry.
“Nah,” Harry lied. Ron shook his head, taking his cue from Harry. They sat at the table and accepted tea from Mrs. Weasley with thanks. Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley poured some Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey into Rinna’s tea, and that Rinna’s hands were shaking as she sipped it. Her eyes kept drifting to the large black and white photo of the Dark Mark on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Harry wondered how many times she had seen that mark in the past.
Harry, Ron, Charlie and Bill explained to her everything that happened after she had left the campsite. She grew even paler, if that were possible, especially when Harry explained that it was his wand that was used to conjure the Dark Mark.
“Was anyone killed?” she whispered.
“Not that we know of,” answered Bill.
“Then why would they cast the Dark Mark?” she wondered.
“We saw someone cast the spell, but it was far away from where the Death Eaters were,” Ron said.
“But if the Death Eaters didn’t cast it, then who did?” Rinna wore a perplexed frown as she tried to puzzle it out.
“Dunno,” said Charlie, “but I suppose that’s what Dad is trying to figure out at the Ministry right now.”
“Have a little more tea, Rinna?” Mrs. Weasley offered, and without waiting for a reply, she refilled the cup from the kettle and added some more whiskey. Rinna gave a small smile of thanks. “Feeling any better, dear?” the motherly woman asked solicitously.
Rinna placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. “It was just such a shock, seeing that picture in the paper,” she said softly, “and knowing that you all were there…”
Mrs. Weasley stood behind her and put her hands on the upset witch’s shoulders. “Everyone is safe,” she said soothingly. Rinna nodded, and sipped her tea, still looking worried.
Eventually Rinna said, “Well, I should be going. You lot look like you could do with some sleep.” She gave Harry a little smile, and he had the feeling that she didn’t believe that she hadn’t woken him and Ron.
Harry suddenly had the idea to tell her about his odd dream a few nights before, and that his scar had hurt. “Rinna,” he said quickly, “can I talk to you before you go?”
“Of course,” she answered quizzically. She looked around. “Shall we go to the living room?”
“Yeah,” he answered with some relief, wishing for privacy.
“What is it, Harry?” she questioned, once they were alone.
Harry fidgeted a bit nervously. “Well, I had a strange dream about three days ago. I wrote Sirius about it, but Hedwig hasn’t come back with an answer yet… and I wanted to know what you think.”
A flush finally colored Rinna’s pale face, and Harry thought she looked rather pleased that he was asking her advice. “Tell me about it,” she suggested. So he told her all the details he could remember about Wormtail and the old Muggle man, and Voldemort plotting to kill Harry.
“And then there was a flash of green light, and I woke up, and my scar was hurting.”
“Has your scar ever hurt before?” she queried.
“Yeah, yeah it has. Whenever Voldemort was at Hogwarts.” Harry noted again that she didn’t flinch at the name. “But I don’t see how he could have been near here.”
“Right,” she said thoughtfully.
Harry haltingly asked, “Do you know why my scar would hurt? And do you think it was just a dream…?”
She looked at him appraisingly. “I haven’t heard about curse scars hurting,” she told him. “I’ll look into it. And to be honest, it sounds a little too detailed to be a dream. Besides how would your mind come up with those images? I suppose it could… some dreams have symbolic meanings you know, or at least most people think so…” She looked apologetic. “I’m no help at all, am I?”
He tried not to look too disappointed, but then again, he felt like he could be honest with her. “Well, uh, not really.”
She looked him up and down, and Harry felt like she was sizing him up, seeing if she thought he had enough mettle. “Harry, I think that this isn’t just a dream. I don’t know exactly what you saw, but it does seem a bit of a coincidence that it happened just days before all of this Dark Mark business, now doesn’t it?” Harry nodded. He was afraid she might say that.
“I’ll tell you what,” she stated. “I will do a little research on this, and if I come up with anything, any explanations, I will let you know. And will you be sure to tell me if you remember any more details, or if you have the dream again?”
“Okay,” Harry agreed. “Thanks.”
She gazed at him, and her expression softened. “I’m glad you felt like you could tell me about this, Harry,” she said quietly.
He looked at her seriously. “Thanks for listening, and for not telling me I’d gone barmy.”
“I will always listen to you, Harry. I promise. Anytime you need me to. All right?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
She reached her hand to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before pulling him into a quick hug. “Now go get some rest, scamp,” she said affectionately, and she ruffled his hair.
Harry didn’t feel any better about his dream, or the events at the QWC, but he still couldn’t help the grin on his face as he made his way back upstairs and to bed. Talking to his godmother about his worries had definitely been a good idea.
Author Note: 1. In the paragraph marked with an asterisk (*), Lucius Malfoy speaks to Arthur Weasley a quote directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, from chapter 8 “The Quidditch World Cup.”
2. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Originally, it had a lot more to it, but I realized that much of it was superfluous to the plot and needed to be cut, so I hope this was satisfactory for everyone. Please, please, please review and tell me what you thought! I am grateful for everyone who reviewed my last chapter. Hugs and kisses to all of you!
3. My fabulous beta, Lorett (who deserves heaps of praise) suggested that I post the stuff I cut out down below for anyone who is interested to read. (Kind of like the deleted scenes from a DVD.) It is a little glimpse into what Remus, Tonks and Rinna did after leaving the QWC to go have drinks. Like I said, it did nothing to advance the plot, and was a bit silly, really, so I stopped writing it midway. But it was fun to write and so I will share it with you now.
Remus and Tonks found a table near the dance floor of the Muggle club Tonks had chosen. Rinna arrived soon after with a tray of shot glasses filled with a clear liquid, a bowl of cut limes and a large saltcellar. Tonks groaned, “No Dunnie, not tequila. That stuff is like dirty socks!”
“Sucked on many dirty socks, have you?” Rinna asked archly. “I’ll have you know, Dorrie, that this is not that cheap nasty stuff you are referring to. This is fine, top of the line; very expensive and very smooth sipping tequila. It will roll down your throat like cream.”
Remus took an experimental sniff. “It doesn’t smell like dirty socks,” he noted. “What are the limes and salt for, if we’re not going to do shots? I thought you said this was for sipping?”
“It is,” Rinna said patiently, “or it can be. I, being the friend that I am, and taking pity on you and your refined tastes,” she smirked at Remus impudently at that point, “decided to splurge and get the good stuff so we can enjoy ourselves… of course, if our goal is to get royally pissed, then I’ll get the cheap swill…”
“No, no… I don’t think it would be a good idea to get pissed,” Remus hastily interrupted. Tonks smirked and eyed each of them knowingly.
“Well, then, do shots or sip, as you see fit.” Rinna divvied up the glasses, and the three companions sipped comfortably and allowed themselves to unwind from all the excitement of the evening.
The sounds of dance music filled the club with a pulsing rhythm. "I feel like dancing," Tonks exclaimed. "Who's with me?"
Rinna glanced at her friend. "This seems suspiciously like use of the Nymphadora Tonks Formula..."
"Well, we have the beverage, and the exertional activity, but only one of the sentient components..." she glanced at Lupin who was looking at them quizzically. "But why not, it's close enough!" Tonks laughed. "C'mon you two!"
Rinna shrugged and grinned, standing up to follow but Remus shook his head. "Oh, come on, Remy," Rinna cajoled. "You owe me for the tequila, you know."
He raised his eyebrows. "I see how it is... you buy a guy a few drinks, and suddenly expect him to do your nefarious bidding."
Tonks laughed, "Oh, you poor baby! Feeling cheap and used, are we?" Remus nodded, trying to keep a petulant look, but the wicked twinkle in his eye ruined the effect he was going for. "Don't worry, Remus, we'll still respect you in the morning," Tonks teased. "Won't we, Dunnie?"
Rinna nodded emphatically as she hooked her arm under Remus' and hauled upward, pulling him out of his seat. She adopted the demeanor of a vampy movie actress and purred, "Oh, yes, dahling... we'll respect you," she made the word 'respect' sound very risqué, "in the morning, at lunch time, tea time, whenever you want..."
She had brought him around the table by this point, so Tonks latched onto the other arm and picked up the charade, "We have plenty of respect for a scrummy bloke like you, Professor." Her voice dripped with suggestive promise as she helped Rinna pull him onto the dance floor.
"All right, all right!" Remus laughingly conceded defeat. "I'll dance, but only to stop you both from sexually harassing me."
Tonks moved very close to him, gyrating her hips to the music, and placed her lips close to his ear to make herself heard, "You don't look all that harassed to me, Lupin!" Remus grinned, and noticed that she made no effort to move out of his personal space.
A song or two later, it was hard for him to tell because they all sounded the same to him, Remus made his escape back to the table. He sipped on his last shot, savoring the burn and taste of the liquor. Rinna knew her stuff, Muggle or otherwise. He smiled at the girls as they had turned and waved to him, laughing, and then felt the need to wave back to them. He didn't realize how the three of them carrying on must have looked until he heard a masculine voice behind him.
"Lucky bastard. Are they both yours?"
Remus snorted. As if someone would actually think he was the type of fellow who could handle the two of them at once! “Yeah, they’re both mine,” he stated sardonically, turning to face the man who’d addressed him.
The man, obviously a working class bloke out having a few drinks with his buddies before heading home, nodded and watched them dance and asked, “So are they into each other, too?”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He didn’t realize the man was drunk enough for the sarcasm to be lost on him.
The stocky fellow gave a loud guffaw, clapped his hand on Remus’ shoulder and said, “Cor Blimey! Two crackin’ birds like them. You are one jammy bloke, mister!” before making his way back to his mates in the back.
Last A/N: Ha ha! Sometimes I am amazed by what utter crap I’m capable of writing! Hope you got a little laugh from that. Hugs to all my wonderful readers!
A New Definition of Family by RahNee
Chapter Notes: The Burrow, the Quidditch World Cup, Lucius Malfoy, hot cocoa, and deleted scenes... what do they all have in common? You'll find them in this chapter!