Chapter Eleven “ Meeting in Diagon Alley
Sirius and James burst into Diagon Alley laughing and dashing about playing tag as if they were first-years. They ogled the latest Firebolt 101 in the Quidditch Supply shop window before they finally gave up to the inevitable and went into Madam Malkin’s for James’ dress robes.
“What would you like Mr. Potter?” Madam Malkin asked in a dignified voice.
“What would you suggest Madam?” James asked, diplomatically.
“To determine the style of dress robes,” Madam Malkin replied, “I must know the occasion.”
“I am attending a betrothal in Scotland. After the betrothal ceremony, there will be a formal dinner and dancing,” James told her, trying to keep himself composed instead of dissolving into a fit of laughter.
“Well, I’d recommend something in a dark bottle green, to go with your eyes.”
“So long as there’s no lace or any other girlish thing, I’m willing to take your advice,” James replied blithely.
Sirius called out jovially, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want just a bit of lace about the collar and the cuffs?
“Positively,” James declared, shooting a withering glance at his mate.
“If you say so,” Sirius teased.
Not long after that, the boys found themselves propelled out the door by a flustered Madam calling out, “I’ll have your robes delivered tomorrow, Mr. Potter.”
“Thank Merlin that’s over,” Sirius declared. “What next?”
“Your wand, of course,” James replied blithely.
They approached Ollivander’s while trading stories of the proprietor’s strange ways. Both agreed the wizard was unnerving, but he did make the best wands.
The door bell tinkled innocuously as they entered. The boys heard a greeting called from the back room, “I’ll be right with you.”
Mr. Ollivander appeared, scraggly white hair floating about his ears, and an unnerving eye roving over both of them. “Well, young Mr. Black and Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?”
“Well,” Sirius began, not quite sure of how to explain. “It seems I’ve misplaced my wand and I need a replacement.”
“How unfortunate,” Mr. Ollivander observed, his rheumy eyes gleaming. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with your trip to Scotland, would it young Mr. Black?”
“Not at all,” Sirius blustered. “The trip to Scotland is for my brother’s betrothal, nothing more.”
“As you say,” Mr. Ollivander replied, dismissively. “It’s been a few years since I’ve sold you a wand. You will need to be measured again.”
The tape measure shot out from under the counter and wrapped itself this way and that around Sirius. Measuring him from top to bottom, side to side, from elbow to thumb, and ear to nose.
“I think I know what you need now, Mr. Black,” Mr. Ollivander declared. He bustled down an isle and returned opening a narrow box, asking, “Why don’t you try this? Holly branch with dragon heartstring.”
Sirius took the wand and felt magical power flow through his body. James and Mr. Ollivander drew simultaneous deep breaths at the golden light that lit up Sirius and his new wand.
“I believe this is exactly what I’m looking for!” Sirius exclaimed, tossing the required number of galleons on the counter. “My thanks!”
The boys decided to celebrate the purchase by making a quick stop at Zonko’s for a few pranks to play on Regulus, Bellatrix, and Narcissa.
OoOoO
Inside a restaurant across from the joke shop, Morag told her sister happily, “We have plenty of time for lunch since we found everything we need at Twillfit and Tattings.”
“If you say so, sister,” Maeve replied, sinking into a booth and picking up the day’s menu. “I think I’ll have the roast pork.”
Morag perused the menu and agreed with a giggle, “So long as we don’t have the Pea Soup.”
They gave their order to the waitress and sat musing over their foray in Twillfit and Tattings when Morag exclaimed, “Look! Potter and Black just walked in. What do you think they are doing here?”
“No idea,” Maeve replied after glancing curiously at the new arrivals. “Should we say hello?
“Are you insane?” Morag hissed.
“Not at all,” Maeve replied blithely. “It would only be mannerly. We will be at the ceremony at Black’s family’s estate in a few days.
“Please, don’t remind me,” Morag moaned.
Maeve leaned toward her sister and whispered, “If they see us, and we don’t acknowledge them, they might bring it up at the ceremony. If we greet them politely, they won’t have a thing out of the ordinary to say.”
Morag digested her sisters’ advice. “You’re right. But you have to be the one to start it.”
Maeve nodded; taking a deep breath she stood and made her way to the bar. “Aren’t you James Potter?” she asked innocently.
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact I am,” James answered brightly, observing the pretty young woman that reminded him of Lily Evans.
“I thought I recognized you,” Maeve said. “Last term at school, you chased me down calling me Stebbins or some such.”
“It was ‘Evans’ that I called you,” James replied. “I remember that. I do apologize again.”
“Not at all,” Maeve assured him, avoiding Sirius’ intent gaze. “I just wanted to see if I remembered correctly.”
“What are you doing in Diagon Alley?” Sirius interrupted.
“Oh, my sister and I are shopping for a ceremony we will be a part of next week,” Maeve answered, meeting his eyes, begging silently for him to pretend they had never met.
Sirius caught her plight and sailed on with the conversation, “We’re doing the same. My friend here needed some dress robes for my brother’s betrothal.”
“And your name?” Maeve asked, knowing the answer.
“Black. Sirius Black,” Sirius answered solemnly, with a twinkle in his eye. “My brother is to be betrothed to a Morag Stewart next week in Scotland.”
“It seems we have something in common,” Maeve replied, suppressing a sly grin. “Morag Stewart is my sister.” She gestured toward Morag, who was studiously looking away from the three of them.
“Would you mind if we joined you?” James couldn’t resist suggesting.
“Not at all, shall we join my sister?” Maeve answered, knowing she would pay dearly once Morag had her alone.
They made their way over to the booth Morag occupied. Maeve called out, “Sister, we have company for lunch. Do you know these young men?”
Morag composed herself for a moment, looking as though promising she would at some time get even. “I think I’ve seen them at Hogwarts.”
Maeve introduced each of them, “This is James Potter, and Sirius Black. They will be at your betrothal next week.”
“How nice,” Morag replied evenly.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Sirius responded.
After Morag indicated her sister should sit beside her, Sirius allowed James to be seated first on the opposite bench, so he could sit across from Maeve. Smiling ruefully, he told the older sister, “Please accept my apologies for being such a black sheep my family deemed me unworthy of your hand in marriage. Now that we’ve met, I must say my brother is a fortunate man.”
Pretty Maeve frowned a bit, hearing his gallantry. She didn’t seem to know whether he was chatting up her sister or trying to smooth over an awkward situation. Sirius met her gaze and winked. Her eyes widened with realization before her lips turned up.
Morag’s smile was almost cordial. “Not at all,” she assured, “I knew nothing of this betrothal until we arrived home this term.”
“I can say the same,” Sirius proclaimed. “If I had known, rest assured, I would have behaved myself much better this term.”
“Whatever do you mean?” asked James laughingly.
Sirius took his cue to playact the gallant. “Look for yourself, mate. If you would be losing the chance to be betrothed to such loveliness as is before us, would you have misbehaved?”
“Not me, I’m no fool, just a fool’s best mate,” James said with a grin.
The girls nearly collapsed in giggles.