(no subject)
Title: Come Together (3 of ~8)
Author: corvidae9
Rating: R
Word Count: ~3664
Warnings: crackful premises, het/slash/fem, rampant bisexuality
Summary: Remus gets to work on his part of the plottage, Tonks puts in an order, Ron feels like a grumpy old man, and Harry wants curry. Again.
Author's Note: See Part I - Saturday for full Summary/Notes!
I - Saturday | II - Sunday | III - Monday | IV - Tuesday | 4.5 - Tuesday Night | V - Wednesday | VI - Thursday | VII - Friday afternoon | 7.5 - Friday Night | VIII - Saturday2
Monday
The golden potion had been decanted and the sludge was relatively usable as a base for the specific family of potions his able yet moronic clients had requested. Severus decided that he should start work on the latest iteration of the experimental polyjuice that the Ministry paid him too well to work on. Not well enough that he agreed to the same kind of oath to which the Unspeakables that had begun the work had been subjected, but enough that they'd bought his silence nonetheless. Given he was the only Potions Master in Wizarding Britain who was capable of continuing the work, he was not entirely surprised.
He set out the ingredients on a shelf in a corner of his basement lab dedicated to long-term projects, three small burners and matching cauldrons. With a final check to verify that he had at least two hours before the sludge client would be expecting delivery, he rolled up his shirtsleeves, fastened his heavy, charmed-impervious shop apron and hung a pair of clear safety goggles around his neck. From his stores, he produced two knives, one silver and one iron, and began dragging them down the whetstone set into the cabinet door.
Just as he was nearly satisfied with the state of the silver knife, the doorbell upstairs rang. Severus' mask of concentration dissolved immediately into a scowl, and though he was tempted to ignore the caller, knew that only a few people knew where or how to find his home.
All he knew was that if the bloody, sodding Dark Lord had risen again, he was leaving the country and duty be damned.
Knife forgotten but still in hand, Severus stalked up the stairs, his knee warm and in better working order than it had been yesterday. Still outfitted for the lab, he tugged the door open, already growling, "What?"
Lupin. Delivery boy for the sodding Weasley twins. No matter how often they called him a partner in the business, Severus assumed Lupin's job was tantamount to charity; after all, Lupin seemed hardly the sort to engage in tomfoolery of the twins' kind, school record notwithstanding. Though he was an utter failure at Potions, his mind was sharp and his temperament suited for the position of professorship that Severus had despised for so long... and yet would be denied because of his lycanthropy. As he well should be. Werewolves were dangerous, unpredictable creatures, and had no place around children... even ignorant little bastards with no intention to learn anything but how to cast Silencing Charms and hexes.
"Good afternoon, Severus," Lupin said, ever smooth and unruffled by Severus' uncharitable tone. "I'm here for the order of gum base-- I hope I'm not too early?"
Severus crossed his arms over his apron, a network of myriad small scars dotting and criss-crossing his forearms visible thanks to his turned-up sleeves. "You are."
"Apologies," said Lupin with a smile that spoke of abashed good graces and Severus scowled further. People managed to find the man trustworthy and harmless, but Severus knew better. "I was using it as an excuse to ask you for a favor. Do you have a moment?"
After a moment's hesitation in which he jumped to any number of conclusions in his mind as to what this favor might be (none of which were inappropriate in any way, damn it all), Severus stepped back from the door, still scowling and muttered, "Come in."
###
Ron frowned at the kitchen table, then made a decent effort not to. It almost worked until a sudden rush of owls bombarded him with letters. Covering his face with one forearm and his tea with the other hand, he swore as a flurry of feathers and parchment landed on and around him. Silence reigned again and he cautiously lowered his arms, lifting the first of the letters on his lap and holding it up close in order to be able to read it. It was just a simple postcard-- a cheerful greeting from Seamus and Lavender lauding the idea of a secret secodary party and assuring Ginny that they would definitely be there. Together, teehee, etc. kiss kiss.
From the shape and substance of the others --really only four or five, though it had seemed like more when the bearers of such had assaulted him-- Ron could only assume that they were more of the same. Scowling again for no apparent reason, Ron snatched them up and decided to take them to their rightful owner himself, which would conveniently give him a target for some of his ire. Tea forgotten, he exited the kitchen at a low boil and attacked the stairs as a warm-up act. At the third floor landing, he narrowed his eyes and peered down the corridor nodding once intently as he remembered which door Ginny's room was, then made his way toward it. He did in fact pause with his hand on the doorknob, unwilling to walk in without making sure he wouldn't be scarred for life by anything he might see, and so he crouched a little and set his ear against the smooth wood.
All was quiet-- then there was a murmur of voices, and suddenly the door opened inward and Ron found himself face to face with a disheveled Susan, tshirt straining tight against ample breasts that had apparently never heard of a brassiere. Her face broke into a grin that was too close to a leer and she deadpanned, "You're too late for the show, Ron. You could probably go listen at Harry's door, though."
Ginny snickered and waved as Susan moved past Ron. "Good times, luv. Was excellent to see you!"
"You too, darling. Don't be a stranger," called Susan over her shoulder just before disappearing down the stairs.
Ron set his jaw, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Real nice, Gin."
"Isn't she?" answered Ginny unconcernedly. "She'll make someone a wonderful girlfriend. Not me, because she snores like a bleeding freight train and is uninformed enough about Quidditch to support the Arrows. But someone, certainly." She turned her attention back on Ron and smiled sweetly, her voice taking on an edge of supreme solicitousness. "You eavesdropped?"
"No, said Ron, indignant as he took a turn shoving past Ginny and into her room. "I was bringing you your post."
"Thoughtful," muttered Ginny, shrugging as he slumped into the chair near the rumpled bed that she collapsed upon. "What brought that on?"
"Wanted to make sure you know you're an idiot," he grumbled as he flung them at her flat stomach. "This party is still a terrible idea."
"RSVPs!" she said cheerfully as she picked up the first card and read it. "Nuh-uh. Look-- even Dean thinks it's brilliant, though I'm the one that did the inviting."
Ron groaned, dropped his hands over his eyes and slumped further into the armchair, and Ginny half sat up to get a better look. "Alright. What's your problem?"
"I don't know," muttered Ron, though he did. He knew clearly that he didn't want to say to his sister that everyone he knew had persons or people knocking down doors, drinks and any semblance of propriety to get to them, and he couldn't even score a one-off. Because he didn't want to. Because he was desperately infatuated with the one person Harry seemed to care to see on a regular basis. And that Ron hated him. The person in question, that is, not Harry. What he didn't know was how to make it stop, and how to move on without being a miserable, cranky sod for the rest of his life. At this rate he'd be yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off of the lawn in the space of a few short months.
"It's about Malfoy, isn't it?" Ginny sighed.
Ron's eyes went comically wide, though all he could see was again, the ceiling, through the bare space between his fingers. "I--"
"Ron, you have to get over it," Ginny said in a knowing tone that made Ron's skin crawl. He could see the set of her eyebrows in his mind's eye and already knew she looked far too much like their mother. "You'll never get any peace until you do."
He also panicked. What did Ginny know? How did she know it? Jesus-- was he being transparent? He hated being transparent!
"I mean," she went on. "I don't like him all that much either, but he's not that bad, and Harry seems to like him just fine. Maybe-- I don't know. Maybe you should spend some time getting to know him and maybe he won't seem like such an arse."
"What?!" sputtered Ron, relieved yet... disappointed. At least if Ginny knew, she could have put her heinous little mind to the task of solving the problem. There was no way he was telling her, though.
"I know, I know, but listen-- as long as Harry wants him around, you'll never be rid of him, so you know. You'd better do what you have to do to put it behind you."
The last thing Ron wanted to contemplate was Malfoy behind him. It made him warm in funny places he couldn't be in public to touch. In fact, at that last thought, Ron stood quickly and threw up his hands. "Whatever. Maybe I'll just avoid him for the rest of my life. Isn't as if he's moving in."
"He might," said Ginny with a shrug, pulling a small notebook from her side table. "You don't know that. Maybe Harry'll want to settle down one day soon and maybe--"
"--Just stop," said Ron, already at the door.
"Hey--" Ginny added, flipping to the right page in the book to mark off the new reservations. "You know, Susan doesn't have a date for the party, I could Floo her and see if she'd want to go with you. If you don't already have plans."
Ron stopped in his tracks, grimaced and turned to face Ginny. "You're serious."
"Oh yeah!" said Ginny, offhand. "She thinks you're rather fit. Suggested some kinky sharing sort of scenario, but I made it clear that I'd rather be dipped in gravy and tossed to wild dingoes than see you starkers much less touch you inappropriately. No offense."
Ron could only stare in horror as Ginny went on.
"I think it may have crushed her dreams of being surrounded by Weasley, but I think she'd be alright with conquering the family one at a time. It'd make her year. What do you think? Ron?"
The door slammed shut behind him as he fled the scene for work, hoping to never speak to his sister again as long as they lived.
###
Harry was on his way upstairs for his keys and wallet, mug of tea in hand and about two minutes from leaving for work when he crossed paths with Ron on the stairwell. He grinned and said, "Hey- how'd you--"
"GRRR," was all Ron said as he hopped the last step and disappeared into the kitchen.
Frowning, Harry watched him go and muttered to himself, "Alright, that has got to stop."
"He's been like that since Saturday, at least," said Neville from the second floor landing, and Harry's head popped up, surprised he'd overheard.
"Yeah. Wish I knew what'd set it off though," said Harry, scrubbing a hand hopelessly through his hair as he climbed the last few stairs to Neville. "'Cos if it's Tonks' party..."
"I don't think that's it," said Neville, hands shoved deep in his pockets in an age-old gesture of trying to make himself small, though given how tall and broad-shouldered he'd grown, it was a futile effort.
"No?" Harry sighed, leaning against the wall of the hallway across from Neville. "Hell. Ideas?"
Neville shook his head as he leaned against the opposite wall. "No. Just... the look on his face. He's frustrated that he can't have something. Reminds me of back in the beginning of fourth year."
Harry grimaced at the memory. "Great."
"Morning!" called Ginny as she hopped around the bannister on the last two steps of the upper flight of stairs still in a camisole and pyjama bottoms, ran between them and continued on her way. "Make way! I need food!" She stopped halfway, and jogged back to the top stair and smack Neville on the side. "We're running tomorrow, just so you know. I'm sort of beat today."
Neville rolled his eyes and made as if to kick her and Harry snorted a laugh as he pushed away from the wall. "Yeah, you two have fun with that."
"Lazy bastard," grumbled Ginny as she ran the rest of the way down to the kitchen.
"Screeching harpy," Harry said with a negligent eyeroll, turning to go. Suddenly he stopped, considered Neville for just a moment and then said, "Hey, Nev-- got plans for lunch?"
"I'd planned to eat it, yeah," Neville said with a smile, pushing away from his side of the hallway as well. "Other than that, I'm free. What's up?"
"The new curry shop we took Hermione to on Saturday. I think I've developed an unhealthy obsession," said Harry, already seeing it in his mind's eye and trying not to look as though he might salivate over the very prospect. "Thought you might appreciate it."
"Oh yeah, I'm in," Neville said with an enthused nod and a hand to his stomach. "Good, then?"
"Fucking fantastic," grinned Harry. Taking a step back toward his room, he nodded too. "Meet you back here around midday?"
Neville held up a hand as he stepped down onto the top stair. "Noon. Get out of here."
Harry offered up a slight wave in return and hurried to retrieve his things, chug down his tea and bolt for the door, determined to get as many of the day's repairs needed as he could before noon. He was looking forward to his lunch, damn it.
###
Tonks hadn't given up the Auror job after the war. Hell, she'd been promoted twice since, and only demoted once, which still left her better off than she had been to begin with. Better pay, at least, which was brilliant as it funded a decent amount of party. People said she'd calmed down significantly once she'd hooked up with Remus, but people were generally unobservant arseholes and what they had to say was not of concern to her. That said, it was possible that she perhaps hadn't had a need for quite as much party these past two years, and that she'd possibly socked away a tidy sum in Galleons she might have otherwise frittered away on clubs, booze and pretty young things.
This happened to work out quite well, given she was going to need a good portion of it for exactly that right now. She stood at the counter of Sclera Brothers Distribution as the burly clerk behind the counter reviewed her order.
"Miss, I realize this is a good deal of refreshment and quite a sale, but unless you have a wholesale license, I'm afraid I won't be able to--"
Tonks tilted her head and leaned hipshot so that her badge and her Order of Merlin showed clipped to her belt under her coat. "It's for a good cause, sir," she said with a winning grin, willing her eyes to go a bit rounder and dewier, cleavage more subtly pronounced. Sod anyone that said it was a cheap trick.
"But the Ministry's already put in their order for Friday, Miss. I don't know--"
"Senior Auror Shacklebolt said I should name drop if I needed to," said Tonks with a hopeful tone. "Please?"
"Oh!" said the clerk, rubbing his stubbly beard with a nod. "Alright. Yes. I'll take care of it."
Tonks popped up onto the balls of her feet grinning hugely as she pulled the quill off of the inkstand on the desk (nearly knocking it over in the process). The clerk sat and waved his wand at the page a few times, referring back to large ledger and then handed it back to her with a total. "We'll need fifty percent of the total up front, fifty on delivery. Please fill in the delivery address there at the bottom. How will you be paying for this?"
"I'll pay for all of it now via personal bank draft, thank you," she said, examining the bill and finding it fair-- more than fair, given he was in fact charging her wholesale prices without much of a markup and wondered what exactly Shacklebolt had done for the man. She scratched a line through the address field and wrote in "Will be picked up Friday-- Two PM sharp, or else it's the chop."
The clerk watched confused as she did so, furrowing his brow as she looked up, still grinning manically. "Miss, I don't understand. That's quite an order--"
"That's fine," she explained, signing the slip with a flourish and passing it back to him. "I've got the division of labor under control."
###
"You want me to help you prank your employers," said Severus slowly, eyeing Remus across the small, painfully tidy kitchen with a look that spoke volumes for how his estimation of the man had fallen low in the cramped space of ten minutes, regardless of how appealing the wolf seemed these days.
"Partners. And yes. I think they've got it coming to them," Remus said, smiling serenely.
Severus blinked and wondered how the man was not biting his tongue. He leaned forward over his crossed arms and proceeded to rant. "Lupin. I do not produce jokes. I produce high-quality potions. The only reason I even agree to work for your partners is that as developmentally flawed as the idiots are, their ideas, spellwork, groundwork, research and potions are often more brilliant than anyone would give them credit for. In fact, the world should likely thank whatever is responsible for having turned them into idiot savants of their magnitude, as their considerable talent turned to other, more sinister ends would pose a threat to society as we know it. Not that most people would notice. As such, I leave the joke-making to them and use what I may of their experiments per our agreement - no more, no less."
"Yes, but will you help me?" said Remus, the corner of his mouth twisting upward in almost a smirk.
Glaring, Severus didn't bother with an answer.
Remus reached behind himself and braced one hand outside either hip the counter beside him; predatory while keeping his distance. "I understand they caused havoc and one half for you in your classroom."
"Thank you, yes," replied Severus acidly. "I've tried to forget the details, but the years spent teaching imbeciles don't easily leave one's memory"."
"Didn't you ever just once want to haul them up by the scruff of the neck and slap them? Just once?" asked Remus, still far too amused for Severus' taste.
"Had I given in to the impulse, I would not have stopped at one," growled Severus, the visual warming his heart slightly.
"So do it now," Remus said, and damn him but he was so convincing. "I'll take responsibility if it comes to it, they'll think it's hilarious, and you'll get the satisfaction you so richly deserve."
"Hardly," said Severus, disgusted that he was even considering the wolf's request. "It isn't as though I would be there to witness it."
"Then come to the party," shrugged Remus as if it were the most natural suggestion.
Severus again looked at him as though he had grown another head. "I think not," he scoffed.
"Oh? Going to the Ministry gala then?"
"No. I'm going to carry on with my life as usual."
"Then come to the party. It should prove to be amusing, you'll be there to witness the fruits of your labor and there'll be more than enough alcohol to make it bearable," said Remus with a nod, as though it had been decided.
"The fruits--?" Severus almost sputtered. "Lupin, I said I was not going to help you. I have no interest in perpetuating your hooliganism."
"No?" Remus asked innocently as he pulled a thin roll of parchment from his inside jacket pocket and unrolling it to spread it on the kitchen table. "Because you see, I had a plan, elegant in its simplicity, really--"
Severus stared through narrowed eyes and wondered just how Lupin thought he was getting away with this and exactly why Severus was considering allowing it to occur. He hesitated to even look at what could only be the plan for a disaster sitting on his table... and yet, he did. And immediately began forming ideas on how he might make it work.
After a moment, Severus straightened and leveled another glare at Remus. "Leave the plan. I'll contact you tomorrow." Remus grinned hugely and thumped the back of his hand against Severus' arm, and Severus headed him off immediately. "I didn't say I was participating in your asinine plan and I certainly am not coming to your party."
"Quite alright," said Remus with a shrug. "That's more than enough."
###
Fifteen minutes later, Remus was toting a box full of jars of sludge that would become the base for the latest batch of Ooey Gooey Kablooey Gumdrops and was being shown out of Severus' home.
He thanked Severus for his help and waited for the door to close behind him to Apparate to the backroom of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Adding the boxes to the inventory and filling out the correct entry in the ledger, Remus then promptly excused himself for an early break, went home and mulled over the soft leonine grace of words like 'asinine', 'hooliganism' and 'developmentally flawed' with his pants around his ankles, one hand braced on the bathroom vanity and on his lips, the warm, sibilant name of the last person on earth that he should be fixating upon as he had an incredibly satisfying wank.
Author: corvidae9
Rating: R
Word Count: ~3664
Warnings: crackful premises, het/slash/fem, rampant bisexuality
Summary: Remus gets to work on his part of the plottage, Tonks puts in an order, Ron feels like a grumpy old man, and Harry wants curry. Again.
Author's Note: See Part I - Saturday for full Summary/Notes!
I - Saturday | II - Sunday | III - Monday | IV - Tuesday | 4.5 - Tuesday Night | V - Wednesday | VI - Thursday | VII - Friday afternoon | 7.5 - Friday Night | VIII - Saturday2
Monday
The golden potion had been decanted and the sludge was relatively usable as a base for the specific family of potions his able yet moronic clients had requested. Severus decided that he should start work on the latest iteration of the experimental polyjuice that the Ministry paid him too well to work on. Not well enough that he agreed to the same kind of oath to which the Unspeakables that had begun the work had been subjected, but enough that they'd bought his silence nonetheless. Given he was the only Potions Master in Wizarding Britain who was capable of continuing the work, he was not entirely surprised.
He set out the ingredients on a shelf in a corner of his basement lab dedicated to long-term projects, three small burners and matching cauldrons. With a final check to verify that he had at least two hours before the sludge client would be expecting delivery, he rolled up his shirtsleeves, fastened his heavy, charmed-impervious shop apron and hung a pair of clear safety goggles around his neck. From his stores, he produced two knives, one silver and one iron, and began dragging them down the whetstone set into the cabinet door.
Just as he was nearly satisfied with the state of the silver knife, the doorbell upstairs rang. Severus' mask of concentration dissolved immediately into a scowl, and though he was tempted to ignore the caller, knew that only a few people knew where or how to find his home.
All he knew was that if the bloody, sodding Dark Lord had risen again, he was leaving the country and duty be damned.
Knife forgotten but still in hand, Severus stalked up the stairs, his knee warm and in better working order than it had been yesterday. Still outfitted for the lab, he tugged the door open, already growling, "What?"
Lupin. Delivery boy for the sodding Weasley twins. No matter how often they called him a partner in the business, Severus assumed Lupin's job was tantamount to charity; after all, Lupin seemed hardly the sort to engage in tomfoolery of the twins' kind, school record notwithstanding. Though he was an utter failure at Potions, his mind was sharp and his temperament suited for the position of professorship that Severus had despised for so long... and yet would be denied because of his lycanthropy. As he well should be. Werewolves were dangerous, unpredictable creatures, and had no place around children... even ignorant little bastards with no intention to learn anything but how to cast Silencing Charms and hexes.
"Good afternoon, Severus," Lupin said, ever smooth and unruffled by Severus' uncharitable tone. "I'm here for the order of gum base-- I hope I'm not too early?"
Severus crossed his arms over his apron, a network of myriad small scars dotting and criss-crossing his forearms visible thanks to his turned-up sleeves. "You are."
"Apologies," said Lupin with a smile that spoke of abashed good graces and Severus scowled further. People managed to find the man trustworthy and harmless, but Severus knew better. "I was using it as an excuse to ask you for a favor. Do you have a moment?"
After a moment's hesitation in which he jumped to any number of conclusions in his mind as to what this favor might be (none of which were inappropriate in any way, damn it all), Severus stepped back from the door, still scowling and muttered, "Come in."
###
Ron frowned at the kitchen table, then made a decent effort not to. It almost worked until a sudden rush of owls bombarded him with letters. Covering his face with one forearm and his tea with the other hand, he swore as a flurry of feathers and parchment landed on and around him. Silence reigned again and he cautiously lowered his arms, lifting the first of the letters on his lap and holding it up close in order to be able to read it. It was just a simple postcard-- a cheerful greeting from Seamus and Lavender lauding the idea of a secret secodary party and assuring Ginny that they would definitely be there. Together, teehee, etc. kiss kiss.
From the shape and substance of the others --really only four or five, though it had seemed like more when the bearers of such had assaulted him-- Ron could only assume that they were more of the same. Scowling again for no apparent reason, Ron snatched them up and decided to take them to their rightful owner himself, which would conveniently give him a target for some of his ire. Tea forgotten, he exited the kitchen at a low boil and attacked the stairs as a warm-up act. At the third floor landing, he narrowed his eyes and peered down the corridor nodding once intently as he remembered which door Ginny's room was, then made his way toward it. He did in fact pause with his hand on the doorknob, unwilling to walk in without making sure he wouldn't be scarred for life by anything he might see, and so he crouched a little and set his ear against the smooth wood.
All was quiet-- then there was a murmur of voices, and suddenly the door opened inward and Ron found himself face to face with a disheveled Susan, tshirt straining tight against ample breasts that had apparently never heard of a brassiere. Her face broke into a grin that was too close to a leer and she deadpanned, "You're too late for the show, Ron. You could probably go listen at Harry's door, though."
Ginny snickered and waved as Susan moved past Ron. "Good times, luv. Was excellent to see you!"
"You too, darling. Don't be a stranger," called Susan over her shoulder just before disappearing down the stairs.
Ron set his jaw, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Real nice, Gin."
"Isn't she?" answered Ginny unconcernedly. "She'll make someone a wonderful girlfriend. Not me, because she snores like a bleeding freight train and is uninformed enough about Quidditch to support the Arrows. But someone, certainly." She turned her attention back on Ron and smiled sweetly, her voice taking on an edge of supreme solicitousness. "You eavesdropped?"
"No, said Ron, indignant as he took a turn shoving past Ginny and into her room. "I was bringing you your post."
"Thoughtful," muttered Ginny, shrugging as he slumped into the chair near the rumpled bed that she collapsed upon. "What brought that on?"
"Wanted to make sure you know you're an idiot," he grumbled as he flung them at her flat stomach. "This party is still a terrible idea."
"RSVPs!" she said cheerfully as she picked up the first card and read it. "Nuh-uh. Look-- even Dean thinks it's brilliant, though I'm the one that did the inviting."
Ron groaned, dropped his hands over his eyes and slumped further into the armchair, and Ginny half sat up to get a better look. "Alright. What's your problem?"
"I don't know," muttered Ron, though he did. He knew clearly that he didn't want to say to his sister that everyone he knew had persons or people knocking down doors, drinks and any semblance of propriety to get to them, and he couldn't even score a one-off. Because he didn't want to. Because he was desperately infatuated with the one person Harry seemed to care to see on a regular basis. And that Ron hated him. The person in question, that is, not Harry. What he didn't know was how to make it stop, and how to move on without being a miserable, cranky sod for the rest of his life. At this rate he'd be yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off of the lawn in the space of a few short months.
"It's about Malfoy, isn't it?" Ginny sighed.
Ron's eyes went comically wide, though all he could see was again, the ceiling, through the bare space between his fingers. "I--"
"Ron, you have to get over it," Ginny said in a knowing tone that made Ron's skin crawl. He could see the set of her eyebrows in his mind's eye and already knew she looked far too much like their mother. "You'll never get any peace until you do."
He also panicked. What did Ginny know? How did she know it? Jesus-- was he being transparent? He hated being transparent!
"I mean," she went on. "I don't like him all that much either, but he's not that bad, and Harry seems to like him just fine. Maybe-- I don't know. Maybe you should spend some time getting to know him and maybe he won't seem like such an arse."
"What?!" sputtered Ron, relieved yet... disappointed. At least if Ginny knew, she could have put her heinous little mind to the task of solving the problem. There was no way he was telling her, though.
"I know, I know, but listen-- as long as Harry wants him around, you'll never be rid of him, so you know. You'd better do what you have to do to put it behind you."
The last thing Ron wanted to contemplate was Malfoy behind him. It made him warm in funny places he couldn't be in public to touch. In fact, at that last thought, Ron stood quickly and threw up his hands. "Whatever. Maybe I'll just avoid him for the rest of my life. Isn't as if he's moving in."
"He might," said Ginny with a shrug, pulling a small notebook from her side table. "You don't know that. Maybe Harry'll want to settle down one day soon and maybe--"
"--Just stop," said Ron, already at the door.
"Hey--" Ginny added, flipping to the right page in the book to mark off the new reservations. "You know, Susan doesn't have a date for the party, I could Floo her and see if she'd want to go with you. If you don't already have plans."
Ron stopped in his tracks, grimaced and turned to face Ginny. "You're serious."
"Oh yeah!" said Ginny, offhand. "She thinks you're rather fit. Suggested some kinky sharing sort of scenario, but I made it clear that I'd rather be dipped in gravy and tossed to wild dingoes than see you starkers much less touch you inappropriately. No offense."
Ron could only stare in horror as Ginny went on.
"I think it may have crushed her dreams of being surrounded by Weasley, but I think she'd be alright with conquering the family one at a time. It'd make her year. What do you think? Ron?"
The door slammed shut behind him as he fled the scene for work, hoping to never speak to his sister again as long as they lived.
###
Harry was on his way upstairs for his keys and wallet, mug of tea in hand and about two minutes from leaving for work when he crossed paths with Ron on the stairwell. He grinned and said, "Hey- how'd you--"
"GRRR," was all Ron said as he hopped the last step and disappeared into the kitchen.
Frowning, Harry watched him go and muttered to himself, "Alright, that has got to stop."
"He's been like that since Saturday, at least," said Neville from the second floor landing, and Harry's head popped up, surprised he'd overheard.
"Yeah. Wish I knew what'd set it off though," said Harry, scrubbing a hand hopelessly through his hair as he climbed the last few stairs to Neville. "'Cos if it's Tonks' party..."
"I don't think that's it," said Neville, hands shoved deep in his pockets in an age-old gesture of trying to make himself small, though given how tall and broad-shouldered he'd grown, it was a futile effort.
"No?" Harry sighed, leaning against the wall of the hallway across from Neville. "Hell. Ideas?"
Neville shook his head as he leaned against the opposite wall. "No. Just... the look on his face. He's frustrated that he can't have something. Reminds me of back in the beginning of fourth year."
Harry grimaced at the memory. "Great."
"Morning!" called Ginny as she hopped around the bannister on the last two steps of the upper flight of stairs still in a camisole and pyjama bottoms, ran between them and continued on her way. "Make way! I need food!" She stopped halfway, and jogged back to the top stair and smack Neville on the side. "We're running tomorrow, just so you know. I'm sort of beat today."
Neville rolled his eyes and made as if to kick her and Harry snorted a laugh as he pushed away from the wall. "Yeah, you two have fun with that."
"Lazy bastard," grumbled Ginny as she ran the rest of the way down to the kitchen.
"Screeching harpy," Harry said with a negligent eyeroll, turning to go. Suddenly he stopped, considered Neville for just a moment and then said, "Hey, Nev-- got plans for lunch?"
"I'd planned to eat it, yeah," Neville said with a smile, pushing away from his side of the hallway as well. "Other than that, I'm free. What's up?"
"The new curry shop we took Hermione to on Saturday. I think I've developed an unhealthy obsession," said Harry, already seeing it in his mind's eye and trying not to look as though he might salivate over the very prospect. "Thought you might appreciate it."
"Oh yeah, I'm in," Neville said with an enthused nod and a hand to his stomach. "Good, then?"
"Fucking fantastic," grinned Harry. Taking a step back toward his room, he nodded too. "Meet you back here around midday?"
Neville held up a hand as he stepped down onto the top stair. "Noon. Get out of here."
Harry offered up a slight wave in return and hurried to retrieve his things, chug down his tea and bolt for the door, determined to get as many of the day's repairs needed as he could before noon. He was looking forward to his lunch, damn it.
###
Tonks hadn't given up the Auror job after the war. Hell, she'd been promoted twice since, and only demoted once, which still left her better off than she had been to begin with. Better pay, at least, which was brilliant as it funded a decent amount of party. People said she'd calmed down significantly once she'd hooked up with Remus, but people were generally unobservant arseholes and what they had to say was not of concern to her. That said, it was possible that she perhaps hadn't had a need for quite as much party these past two years, and that she'd possibly socked away a tidy sum in Galleons she might have otherwise frittered away on clubs, booze and pretty young things.
This happened to work out quite well, given she was going to need a good portion of it for exactly that right now. She stood at the counter of Sclera Brothers Distribution as the burly clerk behind the counter reviewed her order.
"Miss, I realize this is a good deal of refreshment and quite a sale, but unless you have a wholesale license, I'm afraid I won't be able to--"
Tonks tilted her head and leaned hipshot so that her badge and her Order of Merlin showed clipped to her belt under her coat. "It's for a good cause, sir," she said with a winning grin, willing her eyes to go a bit rounder and dewier, cleavage more subtly pronounced. Sod anyone that said it was a cheap trick.
"But the Ministry's already put in their order for Friday, Miss. I don't know--"
"Senior Auror Shacklebolt said I should name drop if I needed to," said Tonks with a hopeful tone. "Please?"
"Oh!" said the clerk, rubbing his stubbly beard with a nod. "Alright. Yes. I'll take care of it."
Tonks popped up onto the balls of her feet grinning hugely as she pulled the quill off of the inkstand on the desk (nearly knocking it over in the process). The clerk sat and waved his wand at the page a few times, referring back to large ledger and then handed it back to her with a total. "We'll need fifty percent of the total up front, fifty on delivery. Please fill in the delivery address there at the bottom. How will you be paying for this?"
"I'll pay for all of it now via personal bank draft, thank you," she said, examining the bill and finding it fair-- more than fair, given he was in fact charging her wholesale prices without much of a markup and wondered what exactly Shacklebolt had done for the man. She scratched a line through the address field and wrote in "Will be picked up Friday-- Two PM sharp, or else it's the chop."
The clerk watched confused as she did so, furrowing his brow as she looked up, still grinning manically. "Miss, I don't understand. That's quite an order--"
"That's fine," she explained, signing the slip with a flourish and passing it back to him. "I've got the division of labor under control."
###
"You want me to help you prank your employers," said Severus slowly, eyeing Remus across the small, painfully tidy kitchen with a look that spoke volumes for how his estimation of the man had fallen low in the cramped space of ten minutes, regardless of how appealing the wolf seemed these days.
"Partners. And yes. I think they've got it coming to them," Remus said, smiling serenely.
Severus blinked and wondered how the man was not biting his tongue. He leaned forward over his crossed arms and proceeded to rant. "Lupin. I do not produce jokes. I produce high-quality potions. The only reason I even agree to work for your partners is that as developmentally flawed as the idiots are, their ideas, spellwork, groundwork, research and potions are often more brilliant than anyone would give them credit for. In fact, the world should likely thank whatever is responsible for having turned them into idiot savants of their magnitude, as their considerable talent turned to other, more sinister ends would pose a threat to society as we know it. Not that most people would notice. As such, I leave the joke-making to them and use what I may of their experiments per our agreement - no more, no less."
"Yes, but will you help me?" said Remus, the corner of his mouth twisting upward in almost a smirk.
Glaring, Severus didn't bother with an answer.
Remus reached behind himself and braced one hand outside either hip the counter beside him; predatory while keeping his distance. "I understand they caused havoc and one half for you in your classroom."
"Thank you, yes," replied Severus acidly. "I've tried to forget the details, but the years spent teaching imbeciles don't easily leave one's memory"."
"Didn't you ever just once want to haul them up by the scruff of the neck and slap them? Just once?" asked Remus, still far too amused for Severus' taste.
"Had I given in to the impulse, I would not have stopped at one," growled Severus, the visual warming his heart slightly.
"So do it now," Remus said, and damn him but he was so convincing. "I'll take responsibility if it comes to it, they'll think it's hilarious, and you'll get the satisfaction you so richly deserve."
"Hardly," said Severus, disgusted that he was even considering the wolf's request. "It isn't as though I would be there to witness it."
"Then come to the party," shrugged Remus as if it were the most natural suggestion.
Severus again looked at him as though he had grown another head. "I think not," he scoffed.
"Oh? Going to the Ministry gala then?"
"No. I'm going to carry on with my life as usual."
"Then come to the party. It should prove to be amusing, you'll be there to witness the fruits of your labor and there'll be more than enough alcohol to make it bearable," said Remus with a nod, as though it had been decided.
"The fruits--?" Severus almost sputtered. "Lupin, I said I was not going to help you. I have no interest in perpetuating your hooliganism."
"No?" Remus asked innocently as he pulled a thin roll of parchment from his inside jacket pocket and unrolling it to spread it on the kitchen table. "Because you see, I had a plan, elegant in its simplicity, really--"
Severus stared through narrowed eyes and wondered just how Lupin thought he was getting away with this and exactly why Severus was considering allowing it to occur. He hesitated to even look at what could only be the plan for a disaster sitting on his table... and yet, he did. And immediately began forming ideas on how he might make it work.
After a moment, Severus straightened and leveled another glare at Remus. "Leave the plan. I'll contact you tomorrow." Remus grinned hugely and thumped the back of his hand against Severus' arm, and Severus headed him off immediately. "I didn't say I was participating in your asinine plan and I certainly am not coming to your party."
"Quite alright," said Remus with a shrug. "That's more than enough."
###
Fifteen minutes later, Remus was toting a box full of jars of sludge that would become the base for the latest batch of Ooey Gooey Kablooey Gumdrops and was being shown out of Severus' home.
He thanked Severus for his help and waited for the door to close behind him to Apparate to the backroom of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Adding the boxes to the inventory and filling out the correct entry in the ledger, Remus then promptly excused himself for an early break, went home and mulled over the soft leonine grace of words like 'asinine', 'hooliganism' and 'developmentally flawed' with his pants around his ankles, one hand braced on the bathroom vanity and on his lips, the warm, sibilant name of the last person on earth that he should be fixating upon as he had an incredibly satisfying wank.