Disclaimer: Thanks to J.K. Rowling for allowing me to take her characters for a lengthy stroll through my imagination.
Fourteen
Making Merry
Their stomachs still full from the magnificent feast that had preceded the fireworks, no one was anxious to call it a night just yet. Victoire and Yvette had boundless energy, something which convinced their weary parents the afternoon nap had been a bad strategy.
“Now, Bill,” Molly reminded him with a fond smile. “Don’t you remember how you were at Christmas?”
“I always had to navigate around little sleeping bundles if I needed a snack in the middle of the night,” Arthur recalled.
“Per’aps a quiet game would be best, non?” Fleur suggested as the children caught sight of the abandoned Muggle board game.
“Let me get you started,” Harry proposed as the children took their places around the low table.
Intrigued by the brightly colored pieces before her, Fleur listened to Harry’s explanation of the rules. “Ah, I remember a similar game from my youz,” she revealed. “Alzough ze names were more familiar.”
With a convoluted bit of wand waving, she transfigured the board so it was full of French landmarks much to the delight of the children. “Zis iz better,” she allowed with a satisfied nod. “Now at least one of us will know ‘er way about ze town!”
Much to Harry’s amazement, the board was no longer the familiar square shape, but had been reconfigured into a city map with irregular borders, its center bisected by a winding river with a small island in the middle. The pattern of squares on which the players’ markers rested made a serpentine loop around the city, traveling through all the major Parisian neighborhoods. Even though all the names were in French, he recognized the familiar railroads had been transformed into the Métro, the Arc de Triomphe, the Moulin Rouge, and of course, the Eiffel Tower. The iron bars in the corner square signifying the jail had been relabeled as the Bastille.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” Harry demurred. “You don’t mind if I leave the rest of you to it then?”
“Here, allow me,” Remus offered as he claimed Harry’s top hat game piece. “This might work great in my classes at Hogwarts. Want to explain the rules to me, Fleur?”
With the cadences of rapid fire French in the background, Harry retreated to the next room to claim another cup of the excellent rum punch. He bypassed Hermione and Ginny who were admiring Luna’s unique engagement ring as Arthur looked on with a snoozing Eleanor nestled expertly in his arms.
Harry found a rather pensive Tonks on the nearby loveseat. “You’re surprisingly quiet,” he offered tentatively.
“Just worn out. I was hoping to have a bit of a lie-in this morn--”
“”but it’s Christmas,” Harry supplied.
“Does that make me a spoil-sport?” she decried in a rhetorical tone of voice. “Not a single gift needed refrigeration or had an expiration date, I might add!”
Harry opened his mouth to empathize but then reconsidered. After all, he and Ginny had not worked their way downstairs until very late morning.
From the other room, Remus’ voice could be heard explaining that Montmartre, St. Germain, and the Left Bank were all different sections of Paris. “Or arrondissments,” he clarified in his best professorial tone.
“What do you think, George?” Fred posed as he joined the group gathered around the lively Paris map.
“Seems a bit unfair to me,” his twin agreed. “Victoire and Teddy can hold their own, but poor Phoebe and Yvette are at a definite disadvantage.”
“Don’t you girls want to be included as well?” Fred proposed.
To the avid nods he received, George supplied, “Then you are in luck, mademoiselles. For today only, we are offering free financial advice.”
“Get real, George,” Ron took a shot in passing. “No one would hire you to mind their finances. You still need Bill to help you convert from Euros to Galleons.”
“Not anymore,” Fred announced with a wide flourish of his wand. Instantly, the prices on the board and play money were converted to familiar coins of gold, silver and copper.
“A knut for your thoughts?” George volunteered as he folded his long legs before the low table and allowed Yvette to scamper onto his lap.
Fred did likewise with Phoebe as he tossed his twin the Scotty dog game piece. “Don’t you worry, Rabbit; I saved the best for us. Do you know what this is?” He displayed the small object in the palm of his hand.
Phoebe nodded happily. “Tea cup.”
“Not just any tea cup. This is a biting tea cup from Zonko’s. They used to supply novelty products to the students at Hogwarts.”
“Before they were forced out of business by two very intrepid, very handsome, very redheaded entrepreneurs,” George finished for him.
“Don’t you want to join in?” Harry posed as he nodded toward the boisterous group which had now switched back to English.
“Perhaps I’m a little too familiar with Paris,” Tonks signified.
“I’m not sure I follow…”
“You see that hotel Teddy is working towards in the Pigalle District? That’s so inaccurate.”
“You mean in light of Remus’ insistence that it be a cathedral on the Ile de la Cité?”
“What’s Paris without Notre Dame?”
“Don’t forget the gargoyles! Teddy didn’t; he’s going to charge them rent.”
Tonks broke out in melodic laughter. “He would remember that detail. As for the Pigalle…” She lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “…I don’t think they’d much appreciate my pointing out that any hotel was likely to be a brothel. For the sake of accuracy, mind you.”
“Not even if you used a euphemism?” Harry suggested with a snigger.
“What do you have in mind? A rooming house for the easily corrupted?”
“Sounds like a retirement home for Death Eaters!”
“See what I mean?” She hesitated briefly as she listened in to the others. “Besides, it appears as if Teddy is mounting his own campaign for truth in packaging.”
From the other room, Teddy’s high-pitched voice rose in volume. “”not right! If I’m stuck with a ruddy cathedral, then Victoire can’t put a hotel in the Louvre. It’s a museum.”
“It is now, Spook,” Remus interceded in a conciliatory fashion. “But did you know it used to be a medieval fortress that housed a large military garrison? That’s very similar to a hotel.”
“Here?” Phoebe spoke up. “Can I build?”
“Let’s zee,” Fleur intoned as she leaned over for a closer look. “Ah, ze Latin Quarter.”
“Don’t they speak French like us?” Victoire chimed in.
“Oui, cherie. Eet’s ze district for ze université…” Fleur began only to be cut short almost immediately.
“Where they teach them to speak Latin?” George interjected.
“Don’t be such a fool, bro,” Fred chastised him. “Who’d want to learn a dead language?”
“Is that what they speak in the catacombs then?” Teddy eagerly broke in as he waved the corresponding deed card picturing a jaunty skeleton in a tuxedo.
“Not quite, Spook,” Remus corrected him as soon as he was able to stop laughing. “Paris is a very old city and many of its customs originated long ago. In medieval times--”
“”ze Dark Ages,” Fleur clarified.
Unperturbed, Remus continued, “Large segments of the population were uneducated and could not even read or write. The books in the library were all written in Latin so scholars used that as a common tongue among them.”
“Is that where Beauxbatons is?” Victoire implored.
Fleur laughed. “Non, cherie. Eet would not be possible to keep eet a secret from ze Muggles in ze ‘eart of a busy city. La Sorbonne ees located zere.”
“Student dormitories,” Fred surmised.
“Maybe even different Houses,” George contributed to Phoebe’s delight.
Tonks turned her attention to Harry. “In the interest of international cooperation, I think they‘re doing just fine on their own,” she remarked. “Besides, I had something I wanted to ask you.”
Harry took a long swallow of his punch as he waited for her to elaborate.
With a quick look to double check that everyone else was occupied, she urged in an undertone, “That story Neville told us about the Yule Ball. Did he get the facts right?”
“Fundamentally,” Harry allowed sheepishly. “I wasn’t aware of the part about Ginny, obviously. I finally got a date with Cho the following year. Any initial attraction abandoned us after one rather calamitous Hogsmeade visit.” Tonks made as if to sympathize, but Harry held up a hand to forestall her. “It’s Cho who deserves your sympathy; it was her boyfriend who died during the Triwizard Tournament. I couldn’t even stop that from happening, how could she have wanted to be friends with me?”
“Perhaps she didn’t blame you.”
“How could she not? I brought Cedric’s body back; she had only my word for what happened.”
“Yet she believed you,” Tonks suggested softly.
“Yes, but it didn’t make things any easier for her, did it?” Harry retorted in a hollow voice.
Attempting to turn the conversation into something more upbeat, Tonks observed, “Leave it to Neville to find a bit of hope among all that despair.”
With a mirthless smile, Harry agreed. “He’s turned out to be an extraordinary friend.”
Once Eleanor awoke, Molly instantly appropriated her from Arthur and carried her newest granddaughter among the guests who were present for her very first Christmas. Even at such a tender age, Eleanor’s dark eyes were fascinated as Molly narrated a personal documentary of the diverse activities going on throughout the Burrow.
“Well, well, what have we here?” Xeno exclaimed in an exaggerated fashion which brought a tiny smile to the baby’s lips. “Another usurper for the throne of the fair?”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Molly glowed proudly. “After all the generations of boys from Arthur’s side and me the only girl on my side, our children seem to have no trouble producing females. Poor Teddy’s going to feel just like Ginny did while she was growing up.”
Xeno saw no reason to point out that Teddy was not technically a Weasley, at least not as far as his genes were concerned.
Molly made to walk the circuit of the room to where Hermione was idly watching Charlie trounce Bill at wizard’s chess. But Eleanor seemed to have other ideas as she craned her small head around to keep Xeno in sight.
Noticing this, Luna remarked directly to Eleanor, “Father’s robes are rather memorable, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps you’d like to hear the tale behind them?” As Eleanor’s eyes swiveled from daughter to father and back again, Luna waved Xeno over to join them.
As Eleanor’s proxy, Molly encouraged the conversation, “Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like them. I would have sworn they were a totally different color when you arrived.”
Xeno bobbed his head happily for Eleanor’s benefit. “Oh, yes! They change color according to the time of day. Too bad winter sunsets are so muted or you would have been blinded at dusk.”
“Rather like the ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts,” Neville commented.
“I suppose so,” Luna supplied in a thoughtful tone. “Somehow the stars and moon are always represented regardless of the season. Just be glad it’s not storming outside.”
“Does it show the lightning bolts?” Ron asked excitedly. “Wicked!”
“A veritable light show!” Xeno affirmed. “Wouldn’t dare come that close to a lightning bolt without frying myself otherwise.”
“Thunder too?” Ron urged.
“Blessedly, no,” Xeno confirmed.
“Leaks quite a bit when it rains, though,” Luna confided. “He walks around in his own puddle, beseeching others to keep up the Quick Dry charms.”
“A minor fault which allowed me to purchase it at a very reasonable price,” Xeno asserted with a satisfied twinkle to his pale blue eyes.
“And where exactly was that?” Hermione asked, thinking to herself that Xenophilius Lovegood personified the meaning of the word eccentric. “I’ve not seen anything remotely like it in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley “ and it’s obviously not from a Muggle store.”
Assured he had amassed an avid audience, Xenophilius outlined how he had traveled to the Salisbury Plain on a pilgrimage of sorts. After despairing of finding any relief for his arthritic knee joints from any mainstream Healer, he’d sought the advice of a mid-wife who specialized in ages old medicine.
“Sacred knowledge handed down from mother to daughter from the time of the Druids, or so she claimed,” Xeno chuckled. “She promised the unseen rays of the new moon had great restorative powers to those who believed in what they could not see.”
“Sounds like a lot of dragon dung to me,” Ron attested. “Please forgive me for saying so.”
“Quite all right, I was of the same opinion myself. But nothing else had worked, you see. No potions or draughts or much-touted poultices. What did I have to lose? I reminded myself. Might get a bit of a holiday in the process.”
“I suppose it’s not really that different from bathing in the sacred waters at Lourdes like Muggles do,” Hermione indulged.
“Exactly,” Luna agreed. “And wizards trust in that which we cannot see all the time.”
“But magic had visible results,” Ron argued.
“Believers will say the same about a miracle,” Hermione maintained.
But following his mid-wife’s detailed instructions was not so easy, Xeno continued. “One’s body had to be oriented precisely on just the right surface to draw forth the shy moonbeams. And it couldn’t be a boulder that had been contoured by modern manufacturing techniques, so forget just Apparating to the nearest rock quarry. Mother Nature’s cooperation was essential.”
“The assistance of the Goddess,” Hermione amended.
“Precisely, or so the New Age mystics in Glastonbury assured me. The strangest mix of Muggles you ever saw. Might have even been wizarding folk among them; their garb was certainly outlandish enough. Some marketing genius discovered you could sell robes to Muggles as long as you called them ‘kaftans.’ For a rather shaky moment, I wondered whether the Statute of Secrecy had been repealed when my back was turned.”
Hermione laughed openly. “So no one would have looked twice at a true wizard in their midst.”
“Even that chap in the kilt and sandals that Tonks likes to trot out might have passed unnoticed,” Luna confirmed.
“So on the night of the new moon, I Disillusioned myself so I could sneak past the ropes Muggle authorities have placed around the sacred site to keep it from being overrun by the unenlightened. That’s the term the mystics were using; anyone who was not a follower of the Goddess was unenlightened.”
“Muggles and wizards,” Molly shrugged as if to say that categorization was nothing new.
“Christians and Philistines. Muslims and infidels,” Hermione philosophized.
“Forgive me, Xeno, but why didn’t you just Apparate past all the Muggle barriers?” Ron considered. “Why risk stumbling about in the dark and twisting your foot among the broken boulders?”
“Didn’t want to get hauled off to jail. I’d been warned that Muggle Law Enforcement was often on hand to enforce their arbitrary ban on the Stonehenge site.” Xeno spread his hands to indicate the rest was obvious.
To Ron’s obstinate look, Hermione whispered, “Surely you haven’t forgotten that Apparition while in a Disillusioned state makes you instantly visible when you materialize. Severs the charm completely.”
“Right,” Ron affirmed with a sheepish grin. “Not much call for that in the Magical Games Department.”
“Certainly not now that Ludo Bagman isn’t trying to hide his ill-gotten gains from the goblins,” Ginny quipped as she joined the group.
From Ginny’s side, Harry claimed, “Face it, Ron; you wouldn’t last a day in the Auror Department.”
“Spoken by a man with an Invisibility Cloak,” Ron retorted playfully.
“Just because I can’t be seen doesn’t mean I can’t be hit by a stray spell,” Harry countered.
“That’s what Protego charms are for,” Neville interjected wryly. “Lesson number one, Dumbledore’s Army.”
Amid the good natured chuckling, Hermione squeezed in, “As Muggles say: you would be toast in the Auror Department, Ron.”
“A roasted marshmallow,” Luna echoed in such a papery voice no one would ever accuse her of being malicious.
“So did the treatment work?” Molly prodded as she bounced Eleanor in her arms to elicit a toothless grin.
Xeno wasn’t certain. “Damnable night I spent on that ruddy rock! Every irregularity felt like a miniature mountain range. Then close to dawn, I finally dropped off from sheer exhaustion only to be blessed with an early morning rain shower. Dripping and miserable, I just gave it up and Apparated back to my hotel room so I could dry myself in relative comfort. Gave myself a chill in the process and was laid up for two extra days after that.”
“And your arthritis?” Molly pressed.
“After two days of room service and judicious amounts of Firewhiskey, it felt much better!”
“Not to mention all that enforced hiking amid the Muggle throngs allowed him to exercise his joints as his regular Healer had recommended,” Luna observed.
“Had to do a fair amount of reconnaissance before I located a true wizard’s shop,” Xeno attested in his own defense. “Tucked away at the end of an alley; if I hadn’t felt the familiar tingle of magic I would have bypassed it entirely. And that, my friends, is where I acquired the stellar robes you see before you today.”
“Excuse me, Xeno,” Charlie implored. “Didn’t you and I play wizard’s chess many years ago?”
“Aye, lad,” Xeno affirmed. “I hardly think your mind’s playing tricks on you.”
“I remember, too,” Bill affirmed. “Mum shooed us off so we wouldn’t wake the twins who were so difficult to put down for a nap.”
“Where was Percy, then?” Ron demanded.
“I was reading peacefully in the orchard, I’m sure,” Percy attested with a small snort.
“You told us funny stories about your childhood,” Charlie elaborated. “Can’t remember the details, only that we laughed more than we played chess.”
“Probably because we were pathetic at chess,” Bill noted wryly. “Not that we’ve improved much in the intervening years. It only took Ron a few modest moves to best us both.”
“Really?” Xeno posed with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ron’s that good?”
“I got a lot of practice at Hogwarts,” Ron replied modestly. “My personal advisor was a chess master and we ended our lessons with a match more often than not.”
“Are you familiar with the Astral Plain variation?” Xeno suggested as they worked their way towards the kitchen. The chessboards were still set up on the worn trestle table before them.
“Is that the three dimensional version?” Ron scoffed. “I thought that was a Muggle invention. Sort of a novelty, really. Flitwick has to devise his own rules to make it work.”
“Not really, we never had such fancy trapping where I grew up on the farmstead,” Xeno expounded. “Although it would facilitate things if we had one of those sets with the pieces which are trained to sit on shot glasses…”
“Got one upstairs,” Fred offered.
“It’s been one of our best sellers,” George supplied as his twin’s heavy footfalls could be heard on the floor above. “You really should accept a percentage for giving us the idea, Xeno.”
“Wouldn’t hear of it,” Xeno demurred as Fred returned with the required chessmen.
“Now yer sure Molly’s off on ‘er own?” he conspired in a whisper.
“If there’s a baby in the room, she wouldn’t notice if we were hauled off by a herd of predatory nifflers,” Bill breathed in return as his brothers nodded with conviction.
“The secret’s in this wee bottle here,” Xeno began as he extracted what looked like a tiny perfume flask from his robes. One tap of the wand, though, and it enlarged to the size of a whiskey bottle.
“But it’s green,” Bill protested.
“Like the Slytherins.” Ron grimaced with distaste.
“Nothing of the kind,” Xeno scoffed. “Think of this as one of those green dragons that are the most pacific of the lot.”
“Only in comparison to the others,” Charlie countered.
Unperturbed, Xeno meticulously poured no more than a thin green layer in each of the shot glasses. “Trust me, this will catch up with you sooner than you think. But be warned, the astral plain is full of traps rather like invisible bogs.”
“What happens if I trip into one?” Ron asked with wide-eyes.
“You’re bound to get a deadly dose of hilarity,” Xeno promised. “I recommend you other boys take very judicious sips if you want to come along for the journey.”
Fred leaned around the doorframe into the other room where the tour of Paris was still in full swing. “I believe our services are no longer required, George. Our investors seemed to have returned to their native language.”
“Cheerio, then,” George toasted him with the merest sip as Fred happily accepted a tiny glass of his own.
“Where was I?” Xeno posed as he waited for Ron to make the first move.
“You were telling us about the farmstead where you grew up,” Bill supplied avidly.
“Not much of a farm, mind you. Mostly sheep and a few goats. No crops to speak of in that harsh climate. Nothing but the thick stone walls of the one room house to protect us from the icy gales. For years I was convinced we had a regular banshee living in the small crawl space between the rafters and the thatch, although my sainted mother kept telling me I was too fanciful in the head.” Xeno slipped effortlessly into his native burr as he warmed up to the tale.
“ ‘An’ ya think a banshee’d leave the marshy bogs o’ the mainland ta visit this barren rock?’ Mum posed with a wry twinkle in her eye.
“Convinced of what I’d heard in the night, I countered fearlessly, ‘Perhaps it’s on holiday.’
“ ‘Then i’d be lookin’ fer its own kind in the graveyard,’ Mum maintained.
“ ‘A busman’s holiday o’ sorts,’ I stubbornly argued. ‘Does ‘is duty to the souls o’ the departed and then comes for a bit o’ sightseein’ on the bluffs.’
“ ‘And this is supposta explain why ya never hear the bleedin’ things in the summer?’
“ ‘Can’t say I’ve studied their migratory habits an’ all.’
“I left her hanging up the laundry to flap in the blustery weather, the wind carrying her parting words to my young ears, ‘Banshee colony in Capistrano will be next, ya mark my words.’
“But as I stood on the rock outcropping that made me feel like I was at the very brink of civilization, I heard the mournful wailing song once again. Perhaps the banshees were off exploring the sea caves below. They’d certainly have them to themselves in this choppy sea. I remember thinking it would be suicide to launch a boat from the squalid little beach and there was no trail down the sheer rock face.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Charlie commented. “But having worked with magical creatures all my life, wouldn’t a banshee have caused your livestock to run away?”
“Does it work that way with dragons?” Bill inquired.
“Surprisingly skittish those animals can be,” Charlie attested. “You’d almost think they were superstitious in their own little minds the way they can get spooked.”
“And what would possibly spook a ten ton dragon?” Xeno inquired with sparking interest.
“The howling of wolves among the foothills,” Charlie explained. “It’s rather unsettling when the mist blocks your visibility.”
“Is it a full moon?” Ron pressed in a bare whisper.
“Not usually,” Charlie answered. “Mist is more likely to form on cloudy nights anyway.”
“But a dragon could easily fry any predator that came within twenty yards of it,” Fred protested. “Take to the air even.”
“Incinerate it from aloft,” George agreed.
“Well, I can’t say I speak for dragons,” Xeno took over, “but my mother made a similar point about the sheep on a regular basis.
“ ‘Don’ ya think the sheep ‘uld run rough shod over anythin’ in their path ta get away from such a harbinger o’ death? Make no mistake about it, laddie, a banshee’s no harmless apparition set on befriendin’ ya.’
“ ‘Where are the sheep ta go, Mum?’ I reminded her with a roll of my eyes. ‘They’s not likely ta take ta the deck o’ one o’ the tugboats churnin’ over from the mainland.’
“That image always made her look up from her chores and laugh outright.
“ ‘An’ they’d freeze their wooly hides if they’d tried ta make a swim for it,’ I extrapolated with the full gravitas of my nine years. ‘A’ least give the stupid beasts credit fer knowin’ tha’.’
“That always set us off in peals of laughter as we visualized the sodden sheep crawling on the pebbly beaches of the mainland with woolen igloos on their backs.”
“Might have started a controversy among naturalists who insisted it was a rare form of prehistoric tortoise,” Charlie supplied amid much merriment.
“Aye,” Xeno agreed. “Might o’ made a name fer meself if I’d thought it through properly at that! But by the time I was old enough to begin my magical training, I’d already concluded the vacationing banshees were nothing more than the north wind howling through the joints in our cottage. A few days worth of re-plastering and our rooms were much warmer and blessedly quiet.”
“So where was this, Xeno?” Ron urged merrily, allowing his blurry vision to stray from the chess pieces who seemed to be dancing the conga in another dimension. Blimey, he’d only captured a few of Xeno’s pawns, a rook and a knight. Best to play a conservative game, he reminded himself.
“The Outer Hebrides,” Xeno supplied. “Two glorious seasons: winter and a hiccup of summer.”
“Now that would make a great slogan on a T-shirt,” George acknowledged.
“Not much call for tourism on that particular rock,” Xeno commented. “But if ya can convince the sheep to wear ‘em, I believe I might just agree to take a commission on that one!”
“So you were able to catch the entire dedication ceremony?” Percy asked Harry as he accepted another mug of flaming punch from Luna.
“Bird’s eye view,” Harry attested. “Didn’t have to deal with the crowds, either.”
“See, that’s true celebrity,” Luna confirmed softly. “You don’t even have to show your face and they come anyway, hoping to get a glimpse.”
Harry colored slightly at those plaudits. It really had been in large part to the false expectations fostered to entrap Umbridge.
He was saved from having to mutter some feeble response by Ginny leaning over his shoulder. “See if you can sneak out onto the back porch, I have something to show you…” She left the tantalizing warmth of her breath on his earlobe as she melted away into the escalating festivity.
“….not quite finished with the section featuring your contributions,” Luna was saying to Percy as Harry returned his attention to the immediate conversation. “Did you not feel the display was lacking somewhat?”
Percy laughed openly. “Was that a zing, Luna? I know I didn’t really accomplish as much as the rest of you, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.”
“No, silly,” Luna giggled. “I didn’t mean it that way at all. I wanted to contrast you as the Order’s mole within the Ministry with Voldemort’s mole.”
“And for that you need to be able to tell the truth about Umbridge without fear of being accused of libel.” Percy nodded sagely.
“Mrs. Figg was ever so helpful in obtaining some background information about Umbridge’s school days to round out the data, but I still can’t get it to work. She seems totally irrelevant…”
Certain that they would not miss his input, Harry worked his way towards the door leading into the kitchen. Xeno was setting up Bill and Charlie for the next round of chess. Ron looked a little dazed as he sat slumped in a nearby chair with a faraway expression in his eyes.
“How did it go, Ron? Did you win?” Harry asked.
Ron took a few extra seconds to refocus on Harry’s face. “Stalemate,” he returned with a goofy grin. “Turns out my king was in exile while the government was being run by a viceroy.”
Playing along, Harry supplied, “And no one noticed?”
“Used Polyjuice Potion. Only noticed after it began to wear off as we neared the end of the hour.”
Harry was about to remark how wizard’s chess had gotten a lot more realistic since he’d played it at school when Xeno straddled the adjacent chair rather sloppily and confided, “You think you had problems? My king was a cross-dresser!”
“So it wasn’t just my imagination that your queen was stepping out on him?” Ron chuckled with relief.
“The captain of the guard was her lover,” Xeno contributed. “Why do you think I sacrificed my knights so early?”
Before he had time to phrase a compliment to the twin’s newest editions, Harry noticed the half empty bottle on the table. Absinthe. Needing no further explanations, he casually deposited his empty punch mug in the sink as he made his way towards the back door. In the background, he could hear Bill commenting in an overly awed voice that his pieces all looked like goblins and giants.
Barely giving him time to shrug into his heavy parka, Ginny grabbed his glove in hers and took off at a trot across the yard. Harry struggled to keep up as his breath came out in huge white puffs. The snow was awash in dazzling white from the three quarter moon as they moved as muted shadows into the overgrown orchard.
Ginny held her finger to her lips as she slowed her pace to follow the barely visible path winding up a slight incline. Had the trees been in full leaf, they would have been out of view by now, Harry noted.
“Mum would kill me if I’d done anything to the cherry and apple trees she’s been nurturing since we finished school,” Ginny confided. “But she really couldn’t complain about the ones that haven’t recovered.”
“I thought she’d asked the twins to chop those down for firewood?”
“They managed to put it off until the snows set in for yet another year.” Ginny smiled into his eyes and spun around to indicate their surroundings.
“How?” was all Harry could manage in awe as he was embraced by sparkling diamonds hanging from every tree limb. The crystal chandeliers in Remus’ newly acquired Versailles Palace were but a pale imitation in the face of Mother Nature. The softest rustle of wind caused the icicles to shimmer and dance across Ginny’s face as he drew her close. It was many heartbeats later when they broke apart, the warmth of their entwined bodies keeping the bitter cold at bay.
“Did this form naturally?” Harry asked reverently.
“With a little help from an Aguamenti Charm,” Ginny confessed. “I snuck out a few hours ago.”
So that’s how she had kept it in an unspoiled state, Harry marveled inwardly. “No chance of using a warming charm then?”
“Not unless you want the crystal cathedral to melt,” she confessed as she held him tighter.
They returned flushed and breathing heavily to the back door, the light of the diamond chandeliers still dancing in their eyes. Ginny tried to smooth down her hair as much as possible as they let themselves inside.
They needn’t have bothered with any precautions as it was doubtful anyone had noticed their absence. The chess game between Bill and Charlie had dissolved into chaos as everyone was clutching their sides in laughter. Intrigued by the glistening puddles dotting the table and the slightly smoking chessboard, they drew up for a closer look.
“Who won?” Ginny asked only to set off a fresh wave of laughter.
“Who cares?” George replied as he wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.
“Never seen anything like it!” Fred wheezed.
“And the look on Bill’s face when one of Charlie’s pawns took out his entire front line!” Xeno roared.
“That’s not strictly supposed to happen!” Charlie laughed.
“How was I supposed to know that a lowly fire-lizard could ignite the dishtowels on all my house-elves at once?” Bill countered. “And here I was concentrating on his long row of pacing dragons!”
“Let that be a lesson to you,” Luna commented as she drifted in from the living room. “Never underestimate the importance of your pawns. Professor Flitwick claims that’s the first sign of an amateur.”
“Not that Flitwick has ever visited the astral plane,” Neville intoned with a knowing smirk.
“Take at least two bottles,” Ron mumbled happily from where he was slouched over the table. “Or so I’ve heard.”
Fred and George allowed Xeno to pour the last remaining drops into their tumblers, but declined to play the next round.
“Something tells me my pawns would try to usurp the authority of the crown,” Fred offered as an excuse.
Much to Harry’s surprise, Xeno agreed, “Civil war is an indication you have reached your limit. Another time then.”
George barely had time to nod in agreement before they were interrupted by an altercation in the next room.
“Fred, George, I know the two of you are behind this,” Arthur maintained from the doorway, failing to hide the twitch of a smile.
“Wait ‘til I get my hands on those two!” Remus bellowed from the next room.
Everyone jostled for position as the twins marched proudly towards their tribunal.
“Did you have a question about our financial dealings?” Fred posed with as much solemnity as he could manage with unsteady knees.
“What iz ze meaning of zis?” Fleur demanded as she pointed to the contract Phoebe was claiming belonged to her and Yvette.
“I believe it’s a contract for deed,” George explained with a quick glance at the parchment. “Duly witnessed by the two of us. Is something amiss?”
“It means the girls, Yvette and Phoebe, can only sell to one another…” Remus began.
“”and in the case that one goes bankrupt, the other automatically enacts her lien to take over all properties free and clear,” Fred finished for him.
“Zere is nothing about zis in ze rules!” Fleur argued.
“Nothing to forbid it, either,” George argued. “Any financier would have advised similar safeguards when surrounded by hungry land sharks like the rest of you.”
“Besides, is the game not called ‘Monopoly’?” Fred proclaimed as he held up the box lid.
“I believe they have you in a quandary, Remus,” Hermione remarked as she barely managed to suppress her laughter.
“They just found a more underhanded way to combat that long row of luxury condominiums Fleur erected along the Voie Georges Pompidou,” Tonks interjected.
“You should have rented out the Hall of Mirrors, Dad,” Teddy suggested. “Victoire gave you good advice.”
“Too costly,” Remus shot back stubbornly.
“So grease ze palm of ze inspector,” Fleur urged. “Zat always works for me.”
“Does this mean we win, Uncle George?” Phoebe beseeched.
“Very likely,” Remus agreed. “We’ll need a full accounting, however.”
With a firm nod of approval from Fleur, he whipped out his fountain pen and summoned the box lid with his other hand. To the rules which were still printed in English, Remus amended: Any type of private contracts between players are prohibited unless said players are part of a team which has been established by all prior to the start of the game.
“The game’s not over yet,” Percy announced as he worked his way nearer the low table. “I represent a cartel of foreign investors--”
“What type of investors?” Teddy demanded with renewed interest.
“From the Far East,” Ginny supplied as she and Harry both made formal bows from the waist. “We wish to infuse your city with capital from Asian markets.”