What Happened Wednesday

Author’s notes:

thanks to my wonderful beta team:

Sempra, who is invaluable in every way,

Chivalric, who continues to help me plot this out,

and special guest beta, Beaweasley2, who gave me the idea of trawling the Internet for revenge ideas.

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I have made Susan Bones the proprietress of the Leaky Cauldron in this tale. I should have checked! I thought I was remembering the information from the post DH interview, correctly, but it is Hannah isn’t it?

Well this is AU, anyway! So in this world, Susan runs the Leaky Cauldron and Hermione eats there a lot. I suppose I should do something nice for Hannah in this story, since I have deprived her of both her inn and her professor-husband, Neville. We’ll have to see; there are certainly a few eligible batchelors running around in this tale.

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Chapter 8

What Happened Wednesday

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Wednesday, May 12, 2004

In the Daily Prophet

No Word From Potter or Weasley in Over 24 Hours

by Barbara Cuffe

(on assignment to Trinidad and Tobago)

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and their brides, Mary Sue Jones and Carrie Lou Jones, have apparently fallen off the face of the earth. Vacationing in Trinidad and Tobago, they have been seen everywhere, at Muggle as well as Wizard venues, enjoying the beauties of this island nation. But no one has seen them since Sunday morning when they returned to their adjoining luxury hotel suites after breakfast.

“They have had room service delivering their meals,” said Jenny Martin, the manager of the Wizard’s Cove Hotel. “But since Sunday lunch, all meals and their mail have been left outside their doors, as Mr. Potter instructed. No one has seen them.”

I am certain all my readers hope that this is a trifling indisposition and that soon Britain’s Darlings and America’s Sweethearts will be back enjoying their honeymoons again.

Get well wishes can be addressed to Wizard’s Cove Hotel, Tobago.

Draco tossed down the paper in disgust, nearly upsetting his glass of pumpkin juice. Even when Potter wasn’t in the paper, he was in the paper!

An owl flew in through an open window and dropped a small package into Draco’s breakfast. It was wrapped in green paper and had a flowery scent emanating from it.

Draco opened up the package and found a ceramic potpourri holder. Inside was a little card with ‘from Ginny’ written in a feminine hand. The flowery scent was cloying and rather strong, but would soon disperse. The important thing was not the gift itself, but the fact that Ginny Weasley had seen fit to send him something.

Perhaps she was regretting returning the emeralds, and this was a hint for him to begin sending her jewels again. Draco smiled happily, his appetite for breakfast renewed at the thought that the youngest Weasley was just as susceptible to wealth as the rest of her sex.

Perhaps he ought to send Ginny the emeralds again. Perhaps he ought to send her something else; there were some pearls his mother was tired of. She’d said so just the other night. ‘I’m tired of these pearls, Draco. I’ve worn them twice this spring, already.’

Narcissa Malfoy, unaware of her son’s intention to raid her jewel boxes (again), entered the house with a few packages.

“I’m glad I went to Madam Malkin’s for these new gowns. No one else can do that really fine embroidery like she can!” Narcissa said. “How are you this morning, Draco?” She sniffed. “That’s a bit strong, isn’t it?”

“Mother! Ginny Weasley sent me this!” he replied excitedly.

Narcissa looked at the the potpourri and the card. It was certainly not a costly gift; as an object of beauty it was laughable, but it held great value in that Miss Weasley was attempting to please her son.

“Draco, if you can pull this off, our star will rise again!” she said. “It might even get your father out of prison early. And at least she is pure-blooded. My grandchildren would be pure-bloods, even if they do have red hair.” Narcissa paused in thought. “There must be a charm…”

“She seems to have forgiven me for sending her presents,” Draco said. “Do you think this means I ought to send her more jewels?”

“Jewels?” Narcissa gasped. “You sent her jewels? Great Merlin! How could you be such an oaf? Sending a woman jewels is an insult.”

“Books! Flowers! Candy!” She ticked the items off on her fingers. ”Those are safe. Nothing that she’d be required to return if the romance ends!”

“But, Mother, she sent me a present! She was angry, but now she’s forgiven me.”

“Well… if she’s forgiven you… that’s lucky,” Narcissa said. “What did you send her? A locket with your picture? An amber heart? A girl can keep an amber heart… in some families.”

Draco didn’t respond, and Narcissa’s look grew shrewd. “What did you send her?”

“I sent her some emeralds,” Draco muttered.

“MY emeralds?” Narcissa demanded furiously. “You sent her MY emeralds?”

“They’re the Malfoy emeralds,” Draco protested. “That makes them as much mine as yours.”

“You never wear them, do you? They’re mine! Mine!”

“You never wear them, either. You always complain if Father asks you to wear them.”

“But they are mine, and they are worth a fortune!”

“Well, she sent them back, anyway!”

“It looks like she has forgiven you,” Narcissa admitted begrudgingly, relieved that the girl has sent them back. “But that scent. It is a bit too much.”

“I just opened the package, mother. It’ll die down in a few minutes.”

Narcissa called Toddy, the house-elf, to open the window. Once the Weasley girl had married Draco, Narcissa would teach her a few things about taste and elegance. It wouldn’t do to have the Malfoy and Black families connected to someone who probably thought her brother’s joke shop was the height of elegance.

Draco continued to devour his breakfast with new appetite. Ginny Weasley was like any other woman, couldn’t resist the Malfoy millions. Life was looking better.

Narcissa sat down and began to toy with a piece of toast.

“I think you had better let me help you write to that Weasley girl, Draco,” she said. “If you’ve been sending her jewels, I hate to think what you’ve written! No! Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

‘I don’t want to know’ had always stood Narcissa in good stead and had helped her in her trial after the Dark Lord’s fall. Between Potter’s testimony and her insistence under Veritaserum that she knew only the vaguest of details of Voldemort’s plans and that she was an unwilling participant in such crimes as had been proved against her, she had managed to keep herself out of prison.

Narcissa clapped her hands for Toddy and called for paper and a dicta-quill. She composed her thoughts until the items were brought to her, when she began to dictate:

“Dear, most dear, Ginny,” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for such a lovely and thoughtful present. I am grateful that you have forgiven me for my impetuous gift of jewels. I meant no disrespect to you. Once we are married, you may have all the jewelry you can imagine! Everything shall be as you wish.

Mother wants to give you the emeralds as a wedding gift. You’ll look so lovely in white robes with the Malfoy emeralds; rather than adorning you, it is the jewels that will be brightened by your beauty.

Your adoring suitor,

Draco Malfoy”

“Now!” Narcissa said smartly with a clap of hands to attract her son’s attention. “I want you to copy this over in your own hand. And you must go into town and buy flowers, books, candy. Can you remember that?”

She snatched the quill up and wrote Books, Flowers, Candy, on the bottom of the letter.

“If you don’t know what books she likes, send her copies of the classics, expensively bound. Send her an empty spellbook, as expensive as you can find. Or better yet, order a fabulous one, finer than any in the shop. I hear she is quite the witch, and every witch can use a spellbook for her secrets. Or for a diary.”

Draco’s face took on a crafty expression.

“No,” his mother scolded, “don’t hex it so you can read what she writes. Merlin! A witch with that kind of power would see through that in a moment. She has those demonic brothers who play tricks. You don’t think she’d spot something like that?

“Now, I suppose a magazine subscription would be another nice present that you could properly give her. Easy enough to find out if she has a subscription to something, and we can ask if she buys anything at the shops.

“First thing, we’ll Floo the flower shop and have something lovely sent around for her.”

“Shall I send something to her friend, as well?” Draco asked.

“No. The Mudblood can be jealous of her betters, for all I care,” Narcissa said coldly. “If we can break up the friendship between Miss High-and-Mighty Granger and Miss Weasley, it will be that much easier for you to convince Poor-but-Proud to marry you.

“It’s a pity about that bit of torture here at the Manor. Miss High-and-Muddy would be an even better match for you, politically speaking. But I daresay the Weasley girl will be more easily fooled and more easily bought.”

“Mother,” Draco said. “I am thinking, Weasley had that trouble with a diary in my second year at Hogwarts. Maybe a blank book isn’t such a good idea.”

“I don’t want to know about any trouble, Draco, but if it will bring up unpleasant thoughts, then stick to the classics.” Narcissa paused to think. “You can always send her a box. A jewel box, as long as you do not send jewelry.

“Oh, and take that horrid cheap little smelly thing to your room. It’s your present after all, and it’s cloying without being in the least pleasant. I’ll be certain she never brings anything that tacky into this house once she marries into the family.”

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“Miss Granger,” said Professor Snape as she joined him in the Leaky Cauldron. “You are probably wondering what wicked, vengeful plot I have come up with to ask you to meet me here for lunch on such short notice.” Hermione smiled when she noticed him wordlessly cast the Muffliato spell, but did not mention it.

“I assume it must be something devilishly clever, sir,’ she replied playfully, “to bring you out of your castle stronghold.”

“Well, it is not revenge, but perhaps it might be classified as mischief,” he replied, almost smiling at Hermione’s arch manner. “You know that young Longbottom spends a great deal of his time annoying me and complicating my life. I was thinking, as he seems quite taken with your friend, Miss Weasley, and as she is now un-betrothed, if she were to marry my employee, it would make him happy. And I believe he could make her so.”

Hermione bestowed a winning smile on Professor Snape, catching the attention of Daily Prophet photographer, Bozo, who was watching with great interest from another table in the crowded dining room.

Granger had Flooed into the pub with a serious expression, but shortly after sitting down, she had graced the Headmaster with such a dazzling smile that Bozo wondered what the old bat had said to make her so happy.

“Oh, Professor Snape!’ She leaned forward excitedly. “I was thinking the same thing! Ginny and Neville, they’re such good friends, and they seem so well suited for each other.”

“I rely on your confidence, Miss Granger.” Hermione nodded, willing to keep whatever secret the Headmaster wished. “I happen to know that Longbottom is in love with the girl. I believe he has been since they were in school together.

“Oh, I wondered,” Hermione said, “the way he looked at her, especially since Ron and Harry – dumped us.”

“Well, I need not convince Mr Longbottom of anything, so much of this will fall on your shoulders, Miss Hermione. You must encourage your friend to care for my… friend.”

There, Professor, Hermione thought. It’s not so terrible to have friends, and no one laughs when you admit to it.

“I will do my best, Headmaster,” she replied earnestly.

“And I will be happy to give him extra time off if you – and especially, Miss Weasley – wish to invite him to come visit.”

“You’re welcome to come, too, you know,” she replied. “You should get out more, stop working yourself to death. I know you enjoyed our visit to Justin’s cottage. You are an invaluable plotter in our little war of revenge. What would we do without you?”

“I have a great deal of work to do,” Professor Snape replied rather more sternly than he intended. He noticed the disappointed look on her face and added, “Miss Granger, you would do perfectly well without me. You are brilliant enough to make up even for your lack of viciousness.”

“But you are more brilliant, still, Professor, and I do love having someone smarter than I to talk to.”

“Miss Granger, I’m flattered. You’re an Unspeakable. You work with the brightest people in the Wizarding world.”

“Not ALL of them, Professor Snape,” Hermione said pointedly. “And some of them are not exactly delightful company, for all their brains.”

Hermione hoped that Professor Snape didn’t classify her as a big brain but ‘not delightful company,’ for she was beginning to value his more and more as she got to know him.

The professor himself did not know what to think of this and was grateful to see Susan Bones arrive to take their orders for lunch. After she left, he asked Hermione’s opinion on some of the magical issues of the day, and they both enjoyed a lively conversation about the latest Magical theories.

They were still discussing time travel when a chime sounded. Professor Snape looked around, puzzled to see a number of witches and wizards hurrying out of their seats or quickly finishing their meals.

“Susan’s a clever girl,” Hermione explained. “She sounds a chime at ten to one to let us know it’s time to finish up and get back to work. A lot of us who work at the Ministry eat here regularly.”

Hermione finished up her chocolate mousse and gathered up the work robes she’d draped over the chair next to him. An orderly line of people was forming next to the huge fireplace at one end of the room. They were Flooing back to the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione pulled her money pouch out and began to lay some money on the table, but Professor Snape stopped her.

“Please allow me, Miss Granger, since I asked you to join me, and since I am asking you to do this favour for me.”

“Thank you, sir, but remember, I want Ginny and Neville to be happy and have been plotting the same thing you have. You must take care to see he comes to visit us often, even if you have to bring him yourself.”

“I dine with Circe and Blaise soon and will bring you news when I can, Mr. Longbottom in tow.” Severus said as he laid a few coins on the table.

He walked beside her to the fireplace and gave her a small formal bow.

“Thank you for your help, Miss Granger. I know Hogwarts can always count on the Ministry.”

As he walked towards the door that opened toward Diagon Alley, Severus was amused to hear a voice asking, “Ooh! What was Perfessor Snape needin’ your ‘elp with, Miss Granger?”

“Now, Miss Dobbs, you know I can’t discuss my work with anyone but another Unspeakable!” Hermione replied merrily as he left the pub.

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Later that day, Narcissa, Draco, and Toddy Apparated into Malfoy Manor after a fruitful shopping expedition.

They had discovered that Ginevra Weasley frequently bought Quidditch Quorum from Lucy’s Booth, a small newstand, and so had ordered a subscription in her name. Narcissa insisted they go into Magical Memories, and there she selected a beautifully carved wooden trinket box. Then she ordered an expensively bound set of Jane Austen’s novels at Flourish and Blotts.

“Now remember, Draco,” Narcissa said as they popped into the parlour, “from now on, I will approve all gifts you send to Miss Weasley.” She drew breath and gagged.

“Oh! What is that?” she cried. “Clean it up, Toddy!” Narcissa Disapparated, leaving Draco and Toddy gasping for breath. The house smelled like a hundred dung bombs had been set off inside.

“Toddy is wondering,” said the tiny creature as he waved his hand at the windows, opening them. “Where is the gift Master Draco received this morning?” Toddy was clever enough to suspect that the newest thing in the house was making this new smell.

“In my room, but my girlfriend sent it to me,” Draco said. Toddy popped up to Draco’s room and found that the ceramic potpourri container now held something that smelled disgustingly like dragon dung.

After disposing of the offending item, the house-elf Apparated into the parlour again. “Master Draco had better leave while Toddy cleans and airs the house,” he said. “It was the ceramic pot. Toddy has destroyed it, sir.”

Draco Apparated back to Diagon Alley without a word of thanks.

“Whoever sent it was not Master Draco’s friend,” Toddy muttered as he opened the windows and set ventilation spells to disperse the magical odor.

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Later that evening, Justin and Michael were enjoying pizza and beer in the Corners’ lounge.

“I reckon George doesn’t ask a lot of questions when it’s a trick to be played on Draco Malfoy,” Justin said. “Because he took my money and even signed his own sister’s name to the card.”

“He told me that Malfoy’s been sending his sister expensive jewelry,” Justin continued. “And she’s sent every bit of it back with nasty letters. She finally had to challenge him to a duel to get him to leave off!”

“I wish I wasn’t blue,” complained Michael. “I’d go tell Malfoy to leave Ginny alone. That’s a lot of nerve, sending her jewels, like she was some scarlet woman. I’d never be so disrespectful.”

You couldn’t afford to be that disrespectful, thought Justin, recalling the spectacular emeralds Ginny had showed them. He was too polite to say it aloud, though, and took a bite of pizza instead.

“I’d challenge him to a duel, myself,” Michael boasted, “only he couldn’t accept, could he? Wouldn’t that be in violation of his parole? There’s an idea! Get him to duel with me, and then he lands back in prison. And Ginny is available.”

“Oh, that’s not fair!” Justin protested. “He served his time.”

“Never thought I’d see the day you defended Malfoy.”

“I never would have thought it myself,” Justin agreed with a laugh, “but there it is! We can’t send him back to prison for courting Ginny.”

“Well, anyway, that stinky potpourri was a great idea, Justin,” Michael said, reaching for another beer. “This stuff is good, by the way. It’s Muggle?”

“Yes, and the pizza, too. It’s Muggle refreshments night. I know a wonderful pizzeria, Luigi’s.”

There was a menu from Luigi’s taped to one of the pizza boxes, and Michael glanced at it. “There’s one near Diagon Alley; I’ll have to go there. It’s better than the pizza they serve at O’Hara’s, even though O’Hara’s is a Wizarding place.”

Justin felt a surge of satisfaction that Corner, who so easily assumed Muggle inferiority, would recognize that Muggles could do some things better than Wizards. Maybe he’s not a total waste of skin, Justin thought, reaching for another slice of ‘Luigi’s famous three cheese.’

to be continued

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?