The trunk his mother’s fourth husband had shut him in when he’d dared to disobey at the age of nine had left him with nightmares for years, but it was nothing compared to the incident eight years before when he was trapped in a cabinet with a Kappa for a guard, intent on keeping him there forever. He thought he’d recovered, but the incident now reverberated through his mind as fresh as if it were happening again.
–Help me help me help me.†His voice punched out a rhythm in time to his foot kicking against the door.
–Now, now,†called Romilda, –You can’t kick your way out. I’ve charmed the door several times, so you’re very secure in there. I’d make yourselves comfortable; the charm will wear off ... eventually.â€
–Please,†Blaise tried to rasp, but then he felt a shin pressing against his ankle, and that contact, that sign that he was not here alone stopped the words on his lips. Hearing Lavender shuffle towards him, he moved his legs to one side, trying to accommodate her next to him.
The door of the bedroom opened and closed, with Romilda wishing them a cheery goodbye.
–Help me,†he muttered to Lavender.
She couldn’t speak; Romilda’s Silencing spell was still intact, but instead Lavender raised her lips to his, kissing him softly. He felt his shoulders relax, the knots in his neck slowly easing away.
–Thank you,†he muttered, and stopped kicking the door. –We have to get out.â€
He felt her head nodding on his chest, and then she sat up and he knew she was examining what she could see of the wardrobe.
–Shame you’re not a hand witch,†he said. –Mind you, whether they could do anything with their hands bound is another matter,†he continued, knowing he was babbling, but anything to stop the rising tide of panic if they didn’t get out.
In reply, she kissed him again, then turned around, shifting to her knees and in front of him. Her fingertips touched his wrists, working their way to the cords in slow restricted movements. He understood and tried to unclench his muscles, slackening the ties so she could pick at the knots.
It was slow tedious work; the cords were smooth and Lavender’s fingers slippery, yet she didn’t stop, only jerking her head up when they both heard the front door slam shut.
Coughing and spluttering, she heaved a huge breath, her voice wheezing out. –Thank Christ for that.†She turned back to the knots, pausing only to add, –What the hell is a ‘hand witch’?â€
Blaise laughed. –A witch who doesn’t use a wand, I read about them somewhere.â€
–Underage magic, you mean,†Lavender said. Then she whooped with joy, her fingers finally undoing the tightest of the knots around his wrists. –There, you don’t need a hand witch when you have ‘light-fingered Lavender’ at your service.â€
She quickly divested him of his bondage, and then Blaise set about undoing the cords that bound her, pausing only to kiss her once or twice.
–Stop it,†she demurred, and held her hands out to him. –We still need to get out of this wardrobe and find Seamus.â€
–Well,†Blaise replied, –if her Silencing Charm broke as soon as she left the house, then this one might break sooner than she thinks.â€
–And you remember the hotel address?†she asked.
–Yeah, some place in Victoria.†He pulled at the cords, quickly untangling the knots and released Lavender. Then, shifting so his back was against the back of the wardrobe, he resumed kicking the doors, praying something would give.
–Blaise, that’s not going to work,†she said gently, and touched him on the arm. –I know what you’re going through, but we just have to sit this out. And at least this time you’re not alone.â€
Seamus woke when the pretty receptionist - primed by Romilda - called up to his room, to tell him breakfast was on its way. Blearily, he opened his bedroom door to a waiter carrying a silver tray. Licking his lips, Seamus gave the man a tip then bore the dome-covered plate to his dressing table. But instead of the expected fry-up of bacon, eggs, sausages and tomatoes, he stared in disgust at the large bowl of muesli swimming in milk.
–Bloody rabbit food,†he muttered to himself. Romilda had been nagging him about his diet for a while now, but he hadn’t thought she’d be strict on his wedding day. This was hardly the condemned man’s breakfast he’d ordered with Fergal yesterday afternoon.
He swilled some of the orange juice around his mouth, wishing it was strong black coffee, but the pot in front of him contained something that looked suspiciously weak, and when he took a sniff, he realised it was camomile tea.
She’s got my best interests at heart, he tried to tell himself, but it was with a feeling of gloom that he sat down and began to eat. His elbow dislodged something on the dresser, parchment fluttering to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he guiltily bit his lip. His vows. He hadn’t looked at them yet. Finishing the orange juice, he unfurled the paper and read.
Because Victoria was a part of London heavily populated by Muggles, Dean and Parvati could not Apparate there. Instead, they drove their rather battered Mini Cooper through the streets of London, with Dean cursing the fact that Seamus’ wedding coincided with the football playoffs, so the roads were jam-packed with cars driven by rival sets of fans. Their progress was slow, and looking across, Dean could see Parvati’s hands clenching and unclenching as she tried not to glance at the clock.
–We’ll get there,†he insisted.
–What if we don’t?†she muttered. –Hell, we should have left a message for Lavender in case she goes back to our house.â€
Dean swallowed, not wanting to admit that the silence from Lavender and Blaise had worried him. If Romilda had caught on, then it was going to be even harder to get in to see Seamus.
–Perhaps they’ve gone directly there.â€
–Without telling us?†She sounded anxious, and Dean knew she was as worried as he was.
Stopping at the traffic lights, he took his hand off the wheel and squeezed her thigh. –Lavender and Blaise can take care of themselves. We need to concentrate on Seamus.†Then he whooped and pointed ahead. –Look, there’s the street. Now all we need is a parking spot.â€
She groaned. –That could take forever. We should have Apparated.â€
Shaking his head, Dean grinned. –There’s a trick to this,†he murmured as he turned into the street and slowed down, scanning the gaps. He stopped before one, a space that would barely fit a broom, and pulled out his wand.
–What are you doing? You can’t Vanish the cars. We’ll be discovered.â€
–Extending the space,†Dean explained. To his satisfaction, as he backed in to park, the road shifted under his wheels, allowing him to ease into the space.
–You’re a genius,†she breathed.
–I’m a Londoner,†he replied succinctly, and got out of the car. –I know how bloody impossible it is to park in this city.â€
Taking a breath, Parvati linked hands with him. –Come on, let’s go and find Seamus.â€
–You do have a plan, don’t you?†Dean replied as he peered through the dark glass door of the small hotel. –Only there’s a bloke sitting at the bottom of the stairs, and he looks a lot like Mildew. I don’t know how we’ll get past him.â€
Reaching into her pocket, Parvati pulled out the vial. –Polyjuice Potion, remember? All I need to do is grab a hair from someone who works here, and I’ll be able to go anywhere.â€
–Brilliant, but ...†Dean trailed off.
–What’s the problem? He’s not going to suspect a hotel worker, is he?â€
–Yeah, that part’s great, but how are you going to get Seamus out of there. You could Disillusion him, I suppose, but, look, don’t take this the wrong way, your Disillusion Charms don’t work very often, and we only have one crack at this.â€
–Okay, okay,†she said irritably. Then, without warning, she handed the Polyjuice Potion over to Dean, and hissed. –Stay out of sight, until I’ve lured him away.â€
–Parv... what the?†But it was too late to protest. Parvati was pushing open the doors and calling out loud for Seamus. Doing as he was told, Dean ducked behind a pillar and watched as Parvati approached the reception desk, demanding to know where Seamus was as she had some very important information for him.
Mr Vane fell directly into the trap, leaving his chair at the bottom of the stairs and striding towards her.
–Finnigan doesn’t want you here,†he said, pulling her roughly on her shoulder. Throwing some money on the desk and bidding the receptionist to say nothing, he frogmarched Parvati to the front door. –My daughter warned me about you. Now, keep that,†he prodded her nose with a fat finger, –out of things that don’t concern you, missy.â€
–I need to speak to Seamus,†she shrieked hysterically, and twisted herself around, thus ensuring that Mr Vane’s back was towards Dean. Taking his cue, he snuck past them and legged it up the stairs, thankful that the receptionist’s attention was on the ensuing row.
Dean raced up the stairs, unwilling to risk the old rickety lift, in search of Seamus’ room. Fergal had said it was number fifty-four, but he hadn’t mentioned which floor it was. As Dean took the steps, three at a time, and pounded along the corridors, he soon realised it was on the fifth floor - right at the top.
–Seamus!†he called, banging on the door. –Let me in!â€
The door opened and there, still in his pyjamas, stood Seamus, his hair messy as always. The only thing missing was the ever-present smile, instead he looked drawn.
–You can’t marry her!†Dean blurted out as he leapt into the bedroom, and closed the door. –Well, look, you can if you want, but you’ve got to hear-â€
–I know,†Seamus said, interrupting.
–You know about the will?â€
Seamus shook his head in bemusement. –What will?â€
–Romilda’s Gran’s will. The house in Paris,†Dean explained, his voice coming out in gasps. He frowned. –You don’t know, do you?â€
–What are you on about?â€
Dean took a breath and sat on the edge of the bed. –I need to start from the beginning. Please listen. And don’t get annoyed until you’ve heard me out.â€
–Sure, but I don’t know what diff-â€
–Shh!†Dean ordered. Seamus sat meekly on the chair and listened. –Okay, Lavender and Blaise went to Paris on Tuesday. We were ... uh ... worried about you, and Lavender couldn’t work out why Romilda was taking a job with La Voix, which is a far less important newspaper than The Prophet.†He looked at Seamus, daring him to interrupt, but Seamus signalled for his to continue. –Anyway, Lavender came back because it all seemed above board, but Blaise stayed on and while he was there he struck up a conversation with a waiter. The waiter seemed surprised to hear that Mademoiselle Vane had inherited the Cresson estate.â€
–Her mum died when she was fourteen and she’s the only grandchild. I don’t see what the issue is,†Seamus said, but he wasn’t protesting merely stating a fact.
–Yeah, she is, but something about the waiter’s words interested Blaise, so he went to the French Ministry and managed to get a look at Madame Cresson’s will. There’s a stipulation attached; a peculiarity of the Cresson legacy and ... uh ... shit, mate, I hate to tell you this, but Romilda’s marrying you because of the will.â€
–What do you mean?â€
Swallowing, Dean continued. –She has to be married to inherit, and she has to be married before she’s twenty-five. It’s some odd law of pureblood French wizards, I think, but an unmarried witch can’t inherit anything from the Cresson line.â€
–That’s unbelievable,†Seamus murmured.
–I’m not making this up,†Dean protested. –Look, this might not make a difference, Seamus. You might be able to look past this, but I had to tell you, okay.â€
Seamus blinked. He stared at Dean, then at the bowl of stodgy muesli and the small roll of parchment still in his hand. Something on the dresser caught his eye; a small green charm that he’d meant to mend and send back to Parvati, telling her to consider it a gift for Anusha, but that wouldn’t be necessary now.
–It doesn’t make a difference,†Seamus replied, then smiled wryly when Dean started to argue. He handed Dean the parchment. –My wedding vows, or rather the ones Ro wrote for me, ‘cause I couldn’t string the words together.â€
Dean glanced at the paper and began to read. –’Romilda, my darling, I have been looking for you for a long time. Before I met you, I felt like I was staggering blindly in the dark’.†Dean tried not to smirk as he thought of Seamus staggering home when drunk. –’ And then you appeared ...a bright shining star that made me see again and brought me back to life.’â€
He glanced at Seamus who gestured for him to continue reading. –On this day, I vow to take care of you because, Ro, I always know you have my best interest in your heart. A heart that is full and rich with love, generosity, and caring beyond all the universe. You are the most beautiful person inside and out and I am the lucky one because you have already given me everything I have ever wanted... I love you, my shining star.’ God, she thinks a lot of herself!†Dean exclaimed, and then he stopped because Seamus was staring at him, his face awash with desolation.
–She’s not my star,†Seamus said miserably. –She never will be.â€
–She’s not Parvati,†Dean agreed softly. He shuffled towards him, and clasped Seamus’ hand. –Please come back. We miss you so bloody much.â€
–Things have changed,†Seamus mumbled. –We’re not the same, are we? And we can’t go back to the way things were.â€
–No, we can’t,†Dean agreed, –but that doesn’t mean you have to get married.â€
Seamus sniffed, and looking at him, Dean could see tears in his best friend’s eyes. –Where’s Parvati?†he asked. –Why is it only you here?â€
–She’s outside arguing with Mildew’s dad. I think Romilda knows we know because he’s been guarding the stairs and not letting anyone through. Parvati wants you back, mate. We both do, but if you can’t come back, then that’s fine. Just ... don’t run away from us.â€
Seamus chewed his lip; he glanced at the door, then at the pot of camomile tea. –How am I going to get out of this? Ro’s dad is a big bastard.â€
–Fortunately, Parvati thought of that,†Dean said, and smirked as he pulled out the vial of Polyjuice Potion. –There’s just over an hour to the wedding. We swap places. You walk out of here as me, and then just before the wedding, I reappear.†He kissed the vial. –Perfecto!â€
–You sound like Zabini!†Seamus snorted. –Jabbering away in Italian to impress the birds.â€
–As long as I’ve convinced you, I don’t give a toss,†Dean replied and uncorked the vial. –What do you say?â€
Seamus studied him, perusing the face of his long-term friend and seeing only love and sincerity there. He raised a hand to his head and, with a sharp tug, pulled out a hair. –Come on, then, let’s get started.â€
He shared the potion out into the empty glass of orange juice and the unused cup for the camomile tea, and then both men dropped a hair into the liquid and swapped cups.
–Down it!†Seamus exhorted.
It was amusing watching Dean change into him. He watched Dean’s black close-cropped curls change to floppy sandy hair, and saw his face lighten, and stared into the mirror as his nose widened, and his eyes darkened.
–Have you put on weight?†he asked Dean.
–All muscle!†Dean retorted. Then he frowned. –You’ve lost weight, I think.â€
–Rabbit food diet does that to you,†Seamus replied in disgust. –Come on, we need to get changed.â€
Divesting himself of his pyjamas, he hastily scrambled into Dean’s jeans and t-shirt whilst Dean wandered across to the wardrobe. –Shall I put the wedding robes on?â€
Seamus nodded. –Probably for the best. No one will suspect if I ... I mean you, play along with it.†He stopped tucking in his shirt and stared across at Dean. –Is this right? Shouldn’t I sit down with Ro and talk this through with her?â€
Dean considered, his hand on the door of the wardrobe, then he shrugged. –It’s up to you, mate, but do you really think she’s going to let you get away now? She’s probably got a love potion set up just in case.†Then, as he pulled the robes over his head, he shot Seamus another glance. –Parvati’s outside. Just talk to her, and then if you decide you want to marry Romilda, you can come back.â€
Before he could reply, there was a noise outside the room and the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.
–Quick!†Dean exhorted, and tugged on Seamus’ arm. –You don’t have time to think. Play along with me and get out of here.â€
Seamus blinked then nodded.
–Get the feck out!†Dean shouted, opening the door of the bedroom and propelling Seamus into the corridor.
–Not till you’ve seen sense!†Seamus replied, trying desperately not to break into laughter.
–I have seen sense, Dean. You just can’t feckin’ accept it, you fecker.â€
–Go easy on the Irishisms,†Seamus muttered, then pulled his face straight as his would be father-in-law reached the top stair. –You really want this? You really want to marry her?â€
–Yeah, I love her and nothing else feckin’ matters. So leave, NOW,†Dean yelled, and shoved Seamus into Mr Vane’s arms
–Seamus, I’m your best man!â€
–Not any longer. Get out!†Dean shouted, and slammed the door leaving Seamus alone with Mr Vane.
–You heard what he said, Thomas. You need to get out of here, and take that scraggy girlfriend of yours with you!†he said menacingly.
–I need to tell him the truth!†Seamus shouted. He stared at Romilda’s dad and all at once, he realised that this man, who he’d liked on the odd occasion that they’d met, was in on the scam, too. –You know all about this, don’t you?â€
–Don’t know what you’re talking about,†Vane bluffed.
–The Cresson legacy and Romilda having to marry before she’s twenty-five. This isn’t news to you at all, is it?â€
Vane slammed Seamus against the wall, his fist pressing into his chest. –Don’t you go spreading rumours, Thomas. It won’t work.â€
–I’ll shout it to the rooftops!†Seamus yelled.
–Won’t do any good,†Vane said and grinned nastily. –Romilda’s a dab hand at potions, and that tea isn’t just camomile, if you catch my drift.â€
–What?!†In panic, Seamus pushed Vane away. –DON’T DRINK THE TEA!†he yelled, praying that Dean hadn’t touched a drop.
–I think it’s too late for that,†Vane murmured. –Finnigan’s already thrown you out. He didn’t believe a word you said, did he?â€
Hell, hell hell. But there was nothing he could do, short of blowing the charade. With loud protestations ringing from his lips and more warnings regarding the tea, Seamus allowed Vane to bundle him down the stairs and out of the front doors where he landed face down in the privet bush.
–Gods, Dean, one of us is going to be a mass of cuts and bruises tomorrow,†he murmured as he picked himself up from the floor.
Then he forgot the pain as an arm slid around his waist, and he felt soft breath on his neck causing shivers to run up and down his spine.
–Please, please tell me it worked, and I’m here propping up Seamus,†Parvati whispered.
The scent of her sent his senses reeling. He turned in her arms, and stared straight into her liquid eyes. Then he pulled away slightly and fished something out of his back pocket.
–You left this with me, my star,†he murmured and dropped the shamrock in her hand. –I thought you’d like it back.â€
–Oh, thank Merlin,†she sobbed and pulled him close, hugging the life out of him. –Does this mean you’re coming home?â€
–No,†he said gently. –It means I need to talk to you.â€