He’d turned up at eight, to see Dean and Ron already getting stuck into the beer, and soon Seamus was well away as friend after friend bought him a drink, all clapping him on the back. And as he drank, laughing raucously, he forgot about Romilda’s odd mood - or rather he dismissed it as pre-wedding nerves. She loved him - that was why she was jittery- scared in case he backed out.
–The thing ish,†he slurred to Ron, –you have to take yer chances, don’t you? Ro loves me - yer know? She proposed ‘cause she lovesh me.â€
–That’s good.†Ron nodded, his elbow skidding off the table. –Herm-inny kished me first. I wanted to, but she-†He waved his hand at something - perhaps batting away a Nargle. –Doeshn’t matter, anyway, Seamush. We’re still together, so who cares who asked who and all that stuff.â€
–Damn right,†Seamus agreed, then caught Dean’s eye. –I want more bee-ee-eer.â€
–Coming up,†Dean called back, and signalled to Hannah for another jug. –Can’t have you sobering up.â€
–S’good of you to come,†Seamus mumbled as Dean slumped in a seat next to him. –I know you don’t like Romilda-â€
–When have I ever said that?†Dean protested. –I don’t know her, that’s all.â€
–You don’t want me marrying her, though,†Seamus sighed, looking blearily up at Dean.
–If you’re happy, then I’m happy,†Dean assured him. He leant towards him, thinking now could be a good time for a proper talk, now that Seamus was relaxed. –You are happy, aren’t you?â€
–’Course I am, Oh, Jaysus, what’s Fergal doing?â€
Groaning inwardly at the distraction, nonetheless, Dean couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of Fergal now dancing on a table with a very pretty witch. With his hair an even brighter shade of red than Ron’s, Fergal was very noticeable and it was unfortunate that the moment he placed his hand on the girl’s bum, her boyfriend leapt on the table and tried to throw a punch.
–Seamus!†Hannah shouted as she separated the men with a Shield Charm. –I’m not having a brawl in my pub. Either your cousin calms down, or you find somewhere else to celebrate.†There was a crash as Fergal fell off the table, still spoiling for a fight. –Second thoughts, I’d like you out of here.â€
–Aww, Hannahhhhh, I thought you loved me,†Seamus complained. He got to his feet, unsteadily, and for a moment Dean thought he was going to moan some more, but then he blew her a kiss. –Well, I love you, my darlin’ barmaid, but I take your point. We shall take our leave of your fine establishment.†He bowed to her, nearly hitting his head on the table and then called for the others to follow him out. Throwing some money on the table, Dean ran after them, leaving only Neville to help his wife straighten chairs and placate the wizard and his girlfriend.
–Longbottom, thank Merlin!â€
Looking puzzled, Neville looked up to find himself being addressed by Blaise Zabini.
–Where’s Seamus? And Dean?†he asked.
–Not sure,†Neville replied. –You’re a bit late for the stag night, though. They’re well on their way to unconsciousness.â€
–Where did they go? What direction?†rapped Blaise.
–No idea,†Hannah replied. –Is it important?â€
–You could say that,†Blaise muttered. He gritted his teeth, wondering what to do now. They could have gone anywhere, and if Seamus was as drunk as Neville said, then he wouldn’t remember any conversation. –Hell, it will have to wait until morning.â€
As he staggered off the Knight Bus and meandered home (wondering why the pavement was swirling oddly), Dean chuckled to himself. It had been a good night; Seamus and Fergal were in fine form, and Dean had no qualms now about the wedding. Although he knew he’d miss Seamus, he accepted his decision and was starting to think it was for the best. In time, perhaps, Parvati might see things differently. Maybe her and Romilda would become friends ... He snorted. That was unlikely. Parvati and Lavender had never liked her at Hogwarts, and he couldn’t see that changing. Maybe they’d ‘accept’ her, though, and it wouldn’t be awkward going out together as couples.
Although going to Paris for a night out was going to be difficult.
Moodily he kicked a stone, his exuberant mood evaporating. Whichever way he looked at it, and however much he wanted Seamus to be happy, Dean didn’t want him to go.
–Where have you been?†were Parvati’s first words when he stumbled through the door.
–Um, the Leaky, then this horrible Muggle nightclub,†Dean replied, trying to consciously not slur. –Didn’t expect you to wait up, sweetheart.†Then, peering around her, he saw Blaise. –You missed a great night, Zabini - really great.â€
–Where’s Seamus?†Blaise asked.
–Uh ... with Fergal. They were trying to find a pub with a lock-in. Ron and I decided to leave when they started singing.â€
Blaise turned away, instead looking at Parvati. –It’ll have to wait until later.â€
–What will?†Dean asked.
–We need to see Seamus,†Parvati explained. –Is he going back to his flat tonight?â€
Dean shook his head. –He’s staying somewhere with Fergal. Not sure where.â€
Blaise muttered something under his breath that Dean was fairly sure was his way of expressing irritation at Dean’s ineptitude. Then, in a gesture that surprised Dean, he gave Parvati’s arm a squeeze. –Don’t worry, we’ll find him tomorrow. It’s not too late.â€
–Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?â€
–I will.†Parvati sounded weary. After giving Blaise a small peck on the cheek and showing him to the door, she turned back to Dean. –I’ll make some coffee. You need to sober up before I explain.â€
Turning up at ten the next morning, Lavender barely waited for Parvati to open the door before storming inside, followed with intent, but a lot less haste, by Blaise.
–Okay, so what’s the plan?†Lavender demanded.
–Lovely to see you, too, Lavender,†Dean muttered, as he wandered downstairs, clutching his head.
Ignoring him, Lavender and Blaise followed Parvati into the lounge. Anusha stared up at them from her blanket on the floor and gurgled contentedly when Dean crouched next to her to give her a tickle on the tummy. –You, my sweetheart, have got to be a very good girl for your Auntie Padma, today,†he whispered. –Daddy and Mummy have got important things to do.†Then he looked over to Lavender. –The plan is to find Seamus and tell him - simple.â€
–Except we don’t know where he is,†Parvati interrupted. She shot him a look of pure exasperation. –All Dean knows is that he’s not at his flat. Romilda’s there, so he’s staying in a hotel with his family.â€
–Have you tried sending an owl?†Blaise asked.
–First thing this morning,†Parvati replied. Picking up Anusha, she balanced her on her hip and walked towards the door. –But Brooking returned with the message intact. There could be a charm around the hotel preventing magical interference as it’s in a Muggle area. And if Seamus is in half the state Dean was last night, he won’t be awake yet.â€
–Not willingly,†Dean muttered, but softly so only Lavender could hear.
–I can’t wait here doing nothing!†snapped Parvati. –I’m going to take Anusha to Padma’s. You three can work out how the hell we find Seamus.â€
As she left the room, the three of them sat down, all pondering the problem. Lavender started running through hotels in the area, hoping to spark Dean’s memory, but he shook his head at every one, nothing provoking a reaction. In the end, he walked off to the kitchen to make them all strong coffee.
–Would Neville know?†Lavender said, turning to Blaise. –Or Hannah?â€
Blaise shook his head. –Neither of them mentioned it, and they knew I was after him. I think we’re going about this the wrong way.†Lavender raised one eyebrow but let him continue. –Cherchez la femme. Vane will know exactly where he is. We just need to think of a reason for being there.â€
–Oh, well that’s easy!†Lavender said, and got to her feet. –Come on, Zabini. Let’s go and crash Mildew’s wedding preparations.â€
–On what pretext?â€
–I’m going to interview her.†Laughing at the expression on Blaise’s face, she pulled on his arm. –Romilda won’t be able to resist bragging - especially if I tell her McLaggan’s ordered me there.â€
–And why do you need me?†Blaise asked, but stood up anyway.
–There’s no way I can get a photographer, not without authorisation. And you know what Romilda’s like,†Lavender replied, a slight edge to her voice. –She won’t be able to resist posing for you.â€
Romilda took a deep breath as she stared at her reflection. With her hair wrapped in a warm towel as it soaked in Sleekeazy hair potion, she nibbled on a croissant. Her face creased into a frown when she heard a clatter from the lounge as her aunt set up an ironing board. Why she hadn’t ironed the dress last night when asked, Romilda had no idea. But at least it was getting done now - and not in the kitchen near the coffee pot.
In the mirror, she saw her brand new suitcases stacked together in the corner, ready to leave for Paris tomorrow. She wasn’t taking much; most of her life here in London she could afford to leave behind. In France, she would start a new life, free from the threat of penury. She wondered if she’d miss this flat. True, it had provided an escape from her dad’s ramshackle bungalow in Essex, and it was in a decent part of London, but when she considered the house in Paris, this was nothing.
Next to her suitcases was Seamus’ trunk. It was the same trunk he’d used at school and although Romilda had tried to dissuade him from packing his possessions in it, Seamus had held firm. He was attached to his trunk, and wouldn’t leave it behind.
I shall store it in the wine cellar, she thought. Unwrapping the towel, she let her hair fall - still damp - down her back, then tugged her comb through the black tresses. She’d used the last of her hair potion for today, but it would be worth it. Today she would look like a princess, and tomorrow - as Mrs Vane-Finnigan, she would become a queen.
A tapping at the door interrupted her reverie. –Mildy,†he aunt cried. –There are some people here to see you.â€
–Can you deal with it?â€
–They say they’re from the paper. Something about an article?†Aunt Jemima’s voice rose an octave as she trilled from the other side of the door. Puzzled, Romilda tightened the bathrobe around her waist, checked her reflection once more, and called for them to enter.
–Oh, it’s you,†she said disdainfully, only moderating her tone when she saw Lavender was accompanied by Blaise.
–Hello, Mild- er, Romilda,†Lavender said, a beaming smile on her face. She raised her hands, palms outstretched and cried, –Surprise! As a wedding present, Preston has decided to feature your wedding in The Sunday Prophet. Isn’t that exciting?â€
–And he sent you?†Romilda said dubiously. –I thought you loathed these society things.â€
–Oh I do, usually,†Lavender said, sighing as she sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for Blaise to come in. –But he knew I was invited, and I suppose he thought you’d be happier with a senior reporter.â€
–Mmm, yes, someone of your ageis more relaxing than some dumb youngster fresh out of Hogwarts, I suppose. And we all have to start winding down at some stage, don’t we?†Romilda replied and smirked when Lavender pursed her lips.
She wasn’t altogether surprised when Lavender didn’t snap back; she knew her rival was too wise to rise to the bait, not when she so clearly had an ulterior motive.
–I’m not sure you should be in my bedroom,†she said, and coyly fluttered her eyelashes at Blaise. –I don’t want that sort of picture spread all over the society pages.â€
He looked discomforted and moved to the door, but Lavender stopped him with a small cough and a shake of her head.
Interesting, Romilda thought. –How shall we start this then, Lav?â€
–Hmm,†Lavender looked around the room, her eyes fastening on the suitcases and then to Seamus’ trunk. –What are you hoping married life will bring you, Miss Vane?â€
–Untold riches,†Romilda replied, adding, –of the heart, naturally. I’m marrying the love of my life, my soulmate and I cannot wait for us to be joined as one.â€
She saw a very definite spasm flick across Lavender’s face, and grinned inwardly at the attempt Lavender made to keep on smiling. Continuing to comb her hair, she fielded another few questions with aplomb, again emphasising how happy she was and grateful to have found Seamus.
–Is he around?†Lavender asked casually. –Only we’d love to speak to him, too.â€
–Of course not,†Romilda trilled. –It’s bad luck to see each other the morning of the wedding. The next time you see Seamus, will be at the altar, Lav, darling. You should know that.â€
–Well, could we drop in on him?â€Lavender asked, again very casually as if it wasn’t that important.
–Speak to him after the wedding,†Romilda said sweetly. –Darling Seamus went out last night and needs all the sleep he can get.â€
Turning back to the mirror, she levitated her hairdryer and then closed her eyes as some strands whipped across her face. Over the noise of the dryer, she heard a sound, something small, slow and almost imperceptible. She opened her eyes. In the mirror, she could see Blaise, now at the back of the bedroom, his hand curled around a piece of paper on the bedside cabinet.
–Give that back!†she yelled, and grabbed her wand. She tried to Summon the note, but Blaise held on fast.
–Name of a hotel,†Blaise said to Lavender. –Must be where Seamus is staying.â€
–Fantastic!†Lavender exclaimed. –We can go there before the wedding starts. Won’t take long. The groom’s side is never as interest-â€
–Are you listening to me?†raged Romilda, and raised her wand. –Give me that address. You do NOT need to speak to Seamus.â€
–Interests of balance,†Lavender retorted. –Not something you’d know about, Mildew. Come on, Zabini, let’s scram.â€
But before either of them could get to the door, Romilda had slammed it shut. –You can’t Apparate,†she said coolly. –And I’m not letting you out of here until you tell me what this is all about.â€
–Interview for the Soc-â€
–Don’t give me that crap!†Romilda yelled. –I know McLaggen hasn’t sent you here to write an article.â€
–He has,†Lavender bluffed. –Can’t say I was happy about it, but you know what our editor is like, Mildew. What he says goes. And if he wants you spread all over The Sunday Prophet, then -â€
–He’ll ask a proper journalist and not a hack who can’t lie her way out of a paper bag.†Snorting derisively, she perused Lavender. –Which is why I’m writing it, Brown, and it’s being syndicated in La Voix as well. So ...†Before Lavender or Blaise could react, she released two cords from her wand and watched in satisfaction as they snaked around her two antagonists, binding them tight.
–Tell me why you’re really here.â€
–It’s like this,†Lavender said, struggling against the ropes. –McLaggan thinks you’ll be too emotional to write this properly, so he persuad-â€
–Oh, shut up, Lav, before I make you,†Romailda said, and yawned deliberately. She smiled and switched her attention to Blaise, who in contrast to Lavender had remained passive. –You were in Paris, weren’t you?â€
Blaise nodded. –I went to their Ministry, Vane, and discovered just why you’re marrying Seamus.â€
–I love him,†Romilda said sharply.
–But you haven’t told him about the will, I bet!†Lavender exclaimed.
–Silencio!†Romilda hissed, then stepped closer to Blaise. He was a Slytherin and understood the means to obtain what one desired. –I don’t know how you put up with that whining voice all the time, Blaise.â€
–Have you told him?†Blaise asked and backed away from her. –It might not make a difference, Romilda.â€
–I never took you for a fool, Zabini. Seamus is far too Gryffindor for me to have confided in.â€
–Do you really love him?â€Blaise asked.
Shrugging, Romilda Summoned her make-up bag. –About as much as he really loves me,†she muttered. –And once we’re married it won’t matter. Either way, I win. Right, I need to get ready, so if you two would ... hmm, where shall I put you? Ah, that’s an idea.†She waved her wand and the wardrobe door flew open. –In you go, or I’ll hex you both, and I’ll take your wands, as a precaution.â€
As Romilda extracted their wands, smirking at Lavender as she slowly pulled Blaise’s from the inner pocket of his robe and pressed herself against him, she pushed them both into the wardrobe. –How sad you won’t be making the wedding, Lavvy, darling. Perhaps if you’d caught my bouquet, Blaise would have finally married you.â€
Unable to bear sitting around at home waiting for news, Dean Apparated to Diagon Alley and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. He knew it was a long shot, but maybe Seamus had said something to Hannah or Neville. And long shots were all he and Parvati had at the moment.
Hannah was clearing up when he arrived. She opened the door, complaining that she wasn’t serving anyone yet, but stopped when she sae who it was.
–You look dreadful. That’s not just a hangover.â€
–It’s nothing,†he dismissed. –Hannah, look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need to find Seamus. Did he tell you where he was staying?â€
She shook her head. –You haven’t lost the ring have you?â€
–No, no, nothing like that.â€
–That’s good to hear, or I’d have had to flay yer alive!†exclaimed a voice from inside. Peering around the door, Dean laughed with relief, for there helping Hannah unstack tables was a man with vibrant red hair. –I thought I should help the lovely Mrs Longbottom clear up after all the trouble I caused last night.â€
–Fergal, thank Merlin. Where’s Seamus?â€
–Snoozing like a good un. Nothing short of a brawl in his bedroom is gonna wake him.â€
–Address?†Dean asked impatiently.
–Sounds serious,†Fergal replied, but he stopped what he was doing and fished out a card from his back pocket. –Here you go. He won’t be conscious, though, and when I was leaving Romilda’s dad had turned up saying we weren’t to disturb him. Feckin’ huge he is. I wasn’t gonna argue.â€
Apparating away, Dean staggered as he landed outside the house. In his hurry, he hadn’t concentrated and could feel pain ripping through him. He looked down and clutched his leg. –Parvati!†he yelled. –Are you there?â€
The front door flew open. –Have you found out where he is?†Parvati said, her voice breathless and anxious. Then her eyes widened in horror. –What’s happened?â€
–Splinched myself,†Dean muttered, and limped past her. –I’m fine. It’s just a bit of skin, but ... Jesus ...â€
Helping him to the kitchen, Parvati sat Dean in a chair, and rattled through a drawer to find the bottle of Dittany. –You shouldn’t Apparate with a hangover,†she muttered, in reproof.
–I needed to get back to you,†he said. –I ran into Fergal and know where Seamus is.â€
Parvati’s hands stopped moving, the Dittany dripping from the bottle and onto the floor. Taking the bottle from her, Dean sprinkled it on the wound, relief spreading through him as the skin healed. –There’s a problem, though. I think Romilda might have caught on because her dad’s on guard.â€
–We need to get there,†Parvati said, quietly but fiercely.
–I know.†Dean paused, and then, reaching across, pulled her close while he stroked her hair. –We’ll find him, but ...â€
–But what?â€
–He might not care. Blaise reckons he’s marrying Romilda to escape this whole situation.â€
–I know, but I can’t do nothing. Not this time.â€
Pulling away from her, Dean stared into her eyes, seeing the tears kept at bay, and he knew she was right. –We should have had this out with him, shouldn’t we? Instead, I pushed it to the back of my mind. I never realised he was so depressed ...â€
–Until he left,†agreed Parvati, choking back a sob.
–Come on, let’s go and find him. We can at least talk, yeah?â€
–Yeah,†she murmured. Then she sniffed, and straightened up. –Hold on, there’s something we might need if we’re to get past Mildew’s dad.â€
–What’s ... OH!†Dean grinned as he watched her rummaging through one of the kitchen cabinets, and pulling out a vial. –That was a good night, but do you think it’ll still work?â€
–It has to. I don’t think duelling Daddy Vane in the middle of a Muggle hotel will make us popular with the Ministry.â€