Sweet Circe!

Disclaimer:

Not mine!

Author's Note:

Many thanks to my beta team, Sempra and Chivalric. This story is so much better because of them. Any badness is mine alone.

Also thanks to the special guest beta, Beaweasley2, who casually offered me the gemlike concept of searching the internet for revenge ideas.

(Potter Place Anything Goes Challenge, PROMPT # 2)

For whatever reason, Harry has married someone other than Ginny. Ron has told Hermione that he needs a break. Both Ginny and Hermione vow never to fall in love again. What would happen if bets were placed that (whoever was betting) could make a woman fall in love with and agree to marry him in a certain amount of time? What happens when the girls find out it was only a bet?

Chapter 6

Sweet Circe!

Hermione's string shopping bag held a baguette of bread, some squash, tomatoes, and a number of letters. Kreacher took the bag, removing the food, which he began to prepare for dinner.

"Kreacher is thanking Miss Hermione," he said. "Those owls have been eating all the leftovers, and Kreacher needs to make a nice casserole." Ginny and Hermione seated themselves at the far side of the large kitchen table, giving Kreacher the room he needed to fix dinner. He would not admit it, but he had become attached to the young ladies and enjoyed it when they chatted in his kitchen.

They dumped out four letters addressed to D. M. Ginny grabbed the first one and read it aloud.

Dear D. M.,

(currently residing at Bertram's Hotel in London)

Enclosed was, as promised, a photograph of a perfectly normal-looking man about ten years their senior. He was holding a copy of the London Times, which he unfolded from time to time and held up to the camera to show the date and headline.

"Wow, he sounds too sane!" said Hermione. "I feel like writing to this bloke and telling him the truth so he won't be hoping for a reply.

"You know when we started this," she continued, "it never occurred to me that by getting revenge on these fellows, I'd be affecting other people as well. But Michael Corner's family has to pull double shifts because he can't work as he's blue. And now we've got these people wanting to meet Draco, and they don't know Draco's not gay and that we placed that ad. It seems wrong!"

"It won't hurt them to fall in with our plans for one afternoon. Once they visit Draco at his house, they'll get the idea that he's not gay. If it makes you feel better, we can write to everyone after this is over and tell them it was a joke or a mistake," Ginny said soothingly. "We can even send them some money to cover their owl expenses."

I still have Harry's Gringotts key and am still listed on his account, so he can pay for it, she thought. I won't tell that to Hermione, though; she's in one of her moral moods.

"Do you think they'll all be that sane and nice sounding?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Listen to this."

"Dear D. M.

Diagon Alley Post Office"

"And he sent a picture! What is that he's wearing?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," replied Ginny. "It looks like it's made of leather, what there is of it."

"This Webster fellow sent a much nicer picture," Hermione said primly. "And this one has the added benefit that he can safely take it home, and it looks like a typical tourist photo outside of Buckingham Palace. He could send it to his mother."

The third letter was another sane, normal letter, this one from a British wizard who did not pretend to own more than a car. He did have a decent job and rented a flat in Birmingham, but made no claim to being rich or dashing.

"This one sounds as sane and friendly as the Yank, but not so well off. They'd both make nice people to meet," Hermione mused.

"Except Draco's not gay," Ginny pointed out.

"Oh, that's right!" Hermione grimaced comically. "These letters seem so normal, except for Mr. Dungeon Guy, that I hate to hurt their feelings."

"This last one's a flyer for the Leaky Cauldron," Ginny said.

"New in London or Long time resident?

Don't forget the Leaky Cauldron at the entrance to Diagon Alley for all your needs. We serve food and beverages anytime, rent rooms for long or short stays, and perform a valuable information service for visitors to London as well as residents. Don't forget our private dining room, available for parties!"

"Susan must have an agreement with the post office that whenever someone rents a post office box, they deliver a flyer," Hermione said. "Clever idea!"

@@@@@

During dinner an owl arrived with an expensive looking roll of parchment addressed to the ladies.

The Floo address is 'Abernathy Hall'.

"Oh, Abernathy Hall!" Ginny cried. "It's supposed to make Malfoy Manor look like a cottage! My dad reckons Miss Abernathy is the richest witch in the world."

"We don't even know this lady!" Hermione protested. "We'd better contact Professor Snape and ask him if he's really going there tonight." Ginny looked at her skeptically.

"Eternal Vigilance, you know!" Hermione explained.

"Well, it wouldn't be bad to let someone know where we're going," Ginny agreed, "in case she's really a Death Eater in disguise. But she was judged innocent of any wrongdoing in the war by the Wizengamot. My dad questioned her at her trial."

"So you know her?" Hermione pestered.

"Well I know of her, and so do you; she's Blaise Zabini's mother."

"Oh! I can't go see her!" Hermione protested. "Blaise sent me all that money! I mean, not me, but he sent all that money to those charities in my name. She..."

"She probably hasn't even missed it," Ginny said dismissively. "My folks say she gives a lot of money to charities, anyway. They don't know if she does it for show or out of real compassion, but it still does a great deal of good."

"But to set your mind at ease, we'll send Kreacher to ask Professor Snape if he really is going to Abernathy Hall. I had no idea he was friends with Circe Abernathy."

Hermione nodded absently, her mind was already on another subject. She picked up the flyer for the Leaky Cauldron and read it again.

"Don't forget our private dining room, available for parties!" she read aloud. "And Draco Malfoy could be the guest of honour."

"That would be better than sending them to his house one at a time!" Hermione continued. "We'll arrange to have them all meet him somewhere with a private dining room we rent for the evening. And we can be there to stop any mayhem... I hope!"

@@@@@

Two hours later, Hermione sat in the most sumptuously appointed room she'd ever seen, sipping a cup of coffee and watching as Circe poured Professor Snape's tea. She dropped in two lumps of sugar before catching his eye, winking, and dropping in a third. Hermione was surprised and looked to see Professor Snape's reaction. He gave Circe a tiny, indulgent smile and then returned to his typical solemn expression.

Hermione smiled; this Circe seemed to be alright. She had greeted them almost like royalty, which had made Hermione glad that Kreacher had insisted upon accompanying them to the house and brushing the soot from their clothes before retiring to the kitchen to visit with the Abernathy house-elves. Kreacher said it was proper etiquette for young ladies to be accompanied by a servant.

Circe Abernathy sat behind the silver coffee and tea service looking like a princess from a fairy tale. Hermione was grateful that Ginny had insisted they wear dress robes. Yet now that the formalities of the first introduction were over, Circe ("Oh, do call me Circe, my dears!") sat chatting as though she had known them for years.

"So you are Blaise's choice for a wife," Circe said as calmly as if she were discussing the weather. "I must say he could not have chosen better. Still, I would not press you to marry without love! I certainly would not have you rush into something you might regret later."

"And that goes for you, too, Ginny," she continued. The girls had imitated Miss Abernathy's request and asked her to call them by their first names, too.

"I understand Draco is courting you," Circe continued. "He could not have found a lovelier girl, nor one from a finer family. Your father was perfectly fair to me during my hearing, although I had feared he might wish to retaliate against any available target, as some of the Ministry officials had done. But your father saw that I had a fair trial, and I understand he did the same for everyone, regardless of the charges against them. He makes a fine member of the Wizengamot."

Ginny fairly glowed hearing her father praised.

"Now, dear Hermione," Circe continued smoothly, "I understand you are the youngest member of the Wizengamot ever."

"Well, ma'am," Hermione replied. "The youngest since 1353 when the Great Plague took so many members that they had to induct a seventeen-year-old and a nineteen-year-old to seat a quorum."

"Really?" Circe asked avidly. "I didn't know that!"

"Yes," Hermione replied enthusiastically. "Professor Binns told us that was the year the age of majority in the wizarding world changed from twenty-one to seventeen."

"Oh, it's much more interesting to hear you tell it!" replied Circe with a little laugh. "I never could take in more than half of what old Binns was saying."

Hermione laughed delightedly, amused that this fairy-like creature had been bored by their History of Magic professor.

"Ron and Harry always said the same thing!" she said.

"I'm in good company, then," Circe said, "figuratively and literally." She looked around and bestowed a sweet smile on each of the girls.

"I think the age of majority ought still to be twenty-one, for boys at least!" Circe continued. "Perhaps even higher, maybe thirty. Johnny Zabini was nearly thirty when I married him, and he was still only a great boy about some things."

"You're right!" Ginny said. "I have six older brothers... five, and sometimes I think I'm more mature than any of them."

"I know them all; she's telling the truth!" Hermione added quickly to keep the tone light. Professor Snape actually smiled at that comment.

"My son, Blaise, for instance," Circe continued gaily, "I love him more than anyone in the world, but what am I going to do with him? Honestly! Making a bet about who will marry Hermione here! How silly of him!"

"Not that I wouldn't be thrilled if he did marry you, my dear. But don't let all this blind you to that fact that marriage should be based on love. I wish there was some way to get through to Blaise that he must not play games and make bets about so serious a matter as one's life partner!"

"Well, you could help us wreak revenge on him!" Ginny said. "We wouldn't do anything really mean, just booby-trap his room a little, if you'd let us in!"

Circe began to laugh a musical laugh so infectious that soon the girls joined in merrily, and even Professor Snape had to smile, although he took pains to give himself a supercilious air.

@@@@@

Later when the young ladies had Flooed home, Circe sat comfortably with her old friend.

"Thank you for introducing me, Severus," she said. "I like those girls. They're fun. I see why you enjoy their company."

"I don't..." Severus began to protest.

"Oh, nonsense. What man doesn't like a sweet young thing treating him kindly? So, are you going to court Miss Hermione yourself? She's a dear, though not as vivacious as her friend."

"Really, Circe! You ask the most outrageous questions!" Severus complained.

"I think she suits you, Severus; she's so clever, and she can be as serious as you about facts. I don't think her lack of vivacity will be a defect in your eyes."

"Miss Granger is quite vivacious enough for a woman her age. She is not a child that one expects to go dashing around the room and bouncing on the furniture."

"No, of course not, Severus," Circe said, bouncing a little on the sofa in delight. "Blaise wants me to have you over for dinner soon. Please let me know which day would be convenient for you. I hope you can get away."

"Minerva will reschedule the tides if she thinks it will get me out of Hogwarts and courting someone. She has made her will clear to me."

"Well, she and I are in agreement. I'd like to see you courting Hermione. She's a delightful girl."

"A girl, indeed," Severus protested.

"Severus," Circe said, "why do you treat Professor McGonagall as if she is your employer? You are the Headmaster of the school, after all."

"Minerva should have been Headmistress; she would do a better job than I," Severus said. "After the Battle of Hogwarts, when I was offered the position, this time legitimately, I refused and told them to give it to Minerva. It should always have been hers.

"She declined the offer. She's never completely recovered from being injured by Umbridge's henchmen. I offered to do anything in my power to make the job less arduous, but she still refused, and in the end, there I was."

Severus was not going to relate Minerva's main reason for rejecting the post of Headmistress, her superstition that, unlike other Wizarding portraits, the magical ones that appeared at the death of a Headmaster actually captured the soul of the newly departed ruler of Hogwarts.

'I want to meet my Robert in the afterlife, Severus,' she had confided in him. 'I am not entirely certain that being Headmistress will not prevent that from happening.'

Severus thought that he, too, had a loved one he wished to see again. But, unlike Minerva, he was not certain that he would be greeted with any sort of affection by Lily. He could risk the (unlikely) entombment of his soul in a headmaster's portrait.

"That's all very well and good, Severus," Circe persisted, "but it doesn't explain why you treat her like royalty."

"I like her, Circe. I admired Dumbledore, was grateful to him...at times...worked for him, spied for him. But I actually love Minerva McGonagall. She was kind to me when I was a student; she has always been kind to me. It hurt her deeply during the war, when she thought I had betrayed her trust. I can never make that up to her.

"In my eyes, she is Headmistress of Hogwarts and my dearest friend."

Circe laid a graceful hand on his arm and looked affectionately at him, silently inviting him to continue.

"I suppose, as all the principals in question are dead, except me, and the secret I was sworn to protect is known by all, I may as well tell you the story. In confidence, you understand." Circe nodded solemnly.

"You know that Remus Lupin was a werewolf," he began. "In my sixth year at Hogwarts, Sirius Black lured me into the place where Lupin had been confined for the full moon. I could easily have been killed or bitten."

Circe gasped. Whatever she had been expecting to hear, it had not been this.

"In all fairness," Severus continued, "I do not believe that Lupin had any part in this incident, although for many years, I believed he had planned it with Black." There was no need to mention Potter at all; Potter got quite enough press as it was.

"I escaped with my life, unbitten, and went to Dumbledore, certain that Black would be expelled. Instead I was sworn to secrecy about poor Lupin's condition and told I would be in trouble if I mentioned the incident to anyone. Black was given detention, I think. Dumbledore always maintained Black had no idea of the very real danger he put me in."

"Oh, Severus," Circe breathed.

"Professor McGonagall stood up for me, against her own students," he continued. "She pressed Dumbledore to suspend Sirius Black at the very least, to hold him back a year, and transfer him to Ravenclaw, thus separating him from James Potter, his frequent partner in crime."

"Oh, I hated those bullies!" Circe interjected. "Sirius Black used to hex me in the halls and James Potter threw water balloons at me. And they were horrible to you!"

"But Dumbledore refused," he continued, "probably from the desire to keep Sirius Black on his side in the war, and gave the bastard a slap on the wrist. Minerva was furious."

Later, when Severus joined the staff, Minerva had confided that she had refused to speak to Albus for weeks in anger over his handling of the situation. Severus had wondered, still wondered, whether he would have ever taken the Dark Mark had he gone to Minerva with his problems, instead of following Lucius.

Circe was silent for a moment, searching Severus's face, before voicing her thoughts, "Of course, I always respected Professor McGonagall," Circe said solemnly. "She was always so even-handed. But what you tell me makes me admire her all the more! I'm glad you have such a loyal friend."

to be continued

AN:

I have deliberately not described Circe except to say she is fairy-like, extremely beautiful, well-dressed, etc. This leaves each reader to imagine his own version of (arguably) the most beautiful witch in the world.

Next chapter, truth and lies in the Daily Prophet!