Poor Ashtad indeed. I'm cruel, but we knew this already!
As for Hermia, she needs... something alright!

I'm glad you liked the photos, there are more to come.

A bowl of sweet dish? What, like pudding for breakfast?

Where's Hermia gone I hear you both cry? I don't know

This chapter is dedicated to ginny37, who helped me to design a new arrival and consequently caused me to redraft the plot!

Seven: Ice
Hermia Smith was sitting in the Three Broomsticks, listening to Jago’s impassioned plea.

“Oh come on my Beautiful Girl, it’s my Christmas party. How can I have my Christmas party without you? I just can’t! It won’t be a party without you, it’ll be a bunch of people in my house drinking my booze and eating my food. Besides, it will give you a chance to show off your birthday present.”

She raised one skeptical eyebrow at him. “You’ve never had a problem partying without me before now. Besides, Elspeth will be there, you won’t even notice me.”

“She wants you there just as much as I do. It’s simply not a party without you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you up to Harwood?”

“Me? Nothing.” Jago’s face was a picture of unconvincing innocence.

“Don’t make me hex you.”

He frowned slightly and pulled her towards him, into a hug. “I just want you to cheer up a bit, you’ve been so down and it’s almost Christmas.”

She sighed and took a long drink of mead, draining her glass. “Well, if I’ve got new dress robes to buy, I need to get going.” She shrugged off his arm and stood up. “See you later.”

She walked away from him without a backward glance. He watched her go, wondering if his friend would ever let her guard down and actually tell him how she was feeling.

~

Standing in the ballroom of Jago’s decadent home, Hermia knew that plenty of the wizards there were staring at her. The sweetheart neckline on her new teal silk robes exposed her alabaster complexion, against which her chocolate brown curls gleamed. On a long silver chain a beautiful deep blue sapphire hung just above her waist. The robes skimmed her hips closely. She knew exactly how attractive she looked and she couldn’t help but smile as she saw one or two of the boys that she had gone to school with receiving scolding looks from their girlfriends.

Across the room she saw a wizard she didn’t recognize, following Jago towards her. Tall, black and impossibly handsome with a short afro and eyes that twinkled in the candlelight, there was something familiar about his broad stature and easy smile.

Jago slid his arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Tell, this is my Beautiful Girl, Hermia Smith. BG, this is Tell, other wise known as Wilmot Shacklebolt.”

“Good to meet you Hermia.” His voice was slow and deep. Wilmot took her small hand and brushed the back of it lightly with his lips. His long index finger curled around her wrist and slid under the hem of her sleeve, causing her pulse to quicken. A thrill of electricity shot through her and she blinked at Jago, whose expression was one of victory. He melted into the crowd. Wilmot straightened and she stared up at him.

“It-it’s good to meet you too, Wilmot.” She allowed him to take her hand and lead her onto dance floor.

*****

Jago sat in a small, private back room of a wizarding restaurant, in a small village some where in Aquitaine. His uneaten poule au pot sat on the table, stone cold. He glanced at his watch and realized that he had been sitting there for three hours. On the floor behind his chair were two cages which were covered with thick cloths so that the creatures within them would be quiet. The room was silent and he could hear the kitchen staff talking through the wall as they prepared for the evening service. His eyes were unblinkingly trained on the door. He was unconsciously picking at the skin on his thumb and only stopped when he realized that he had made it bleed. Although he was only fifteen, he slipped his wand out of his pocket and healed the wound wordlessly. He resumed his silent sentry duty.

Finally, the door opened quietly and a small figure with long dark hair slipped into the room, followed by a woman with a long blonde plait. Jago sprang out of his seat and crossed the room to pull her into a hug but he saw her flinch and stopped half way, arms stretched out to her. “Hi.” He said quietly.

She nodded at him but wouldn’t look at him. The woman spoke. “Hello Jago, I’m Susan Bones, I work for the British and Irish Ministry of Magic. Hermia has agreed to come to England where we can hide her until we find the people that we are looking for. She wanted to come and say goodbye.”

Tears had formed in Hermia’s eyes and Jago wanted more than ever to pull her into a hug, but didn’t dare. Instead, he tentatively took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. He saw her tears begin to fall and finally the question that had been churning over and over in his mind spilled off his tongue.

“Did Thea, umm, did she die?”

Hermia seemed to sag and then she fell against him sobbing. He stroked her hair and held on to her tightly. Susan spoke again. “Yes, she died a few hours ago. She managed to tell us what happened. Hermia isn’t to blame.”

“Y-y-yes I a-am. He wanted me, b-but s-she wouldn’t let him. She g-got in the w-way.” Hermia’s voice was broken, she took faltering breathes in an attempt to steady herself. “I was so angry when h-h-he hurt her I-I-I-I-I-I-”

She looked between Jago and Susan. The words tumbled out in a whisper.

“I killed him. He told me who my mother was and I killed him.”

“Who was your mother?” Jago didn’t really want her to answer that question but he knew that she wanted to tell him.

“Morgana.”

Jago reeled at the news but worked hard to keep his face impassive. Hermia’s mother was a dark witch? One of the darkest ever? One of her Agents, Emil Nequam, had killed his own mother before Jago’s third birthday. He blinked rapidly, steeling himself.

“I brought you something. Well, someone.” Still holding her hand , he led her to the cages and pulled off the covers. Perched inside the cages were two fledgling tawny owls. “They’re sisters. There’s one for you and one for me, they’re from my father’s owls. You can choose which one you want. That way, no matter where we are, we’ll be able to communicate. They’re family, like us. She’s instead of an easter egg.”

Hermia looked at him, her eyes shining with tears. She bent down and considered the owls. They were both beautiful, fluffy feathered little things. They had both perched as closely together as possible, despite being in separate cages.

“Do they have names?” Jago shook his head. “How about Artemis and Araceli? Sisters in flight?” Jago smiled sadly as she lifted one of the cages.

“Come on Artemis, it’s time to go.” She followed Susan out the room, pausing only to kiss him on the cheek.

The door closed behind them. Jago sank back into the chair, crying.



*****

Ashtad made his way quietly through the townhouse after the elf had let him in, the shoulders of his heavy traveling cloak sprinkled liberally with snow. It was after ten o’clock and he wondered if anyone would be awake. He made his way up to the ground floor from the basement kitchen. Light streamed in through the stained glass of the grand front doors and into the hall. He opened the door to what he thought might be the dining room and stepped inside. Instead of the dining room he had expected, he found himself in a small study which contained a beautiful oak desk. The walls were lined with well cared for leather bound and hardback books and by the beautiful art deco fireplace, where the flames were dwindling, was a deep sofa. Ashtad felt as though a shard of ice had been plunged into his heart when he saw who was asleep on it. Curled up, in the crook of Wilmot Shacklebolt’s arm, was Hermia. She looked like a porcelain doll. Wilmot moved his hand protectively over her rib cage and the shard in Ashtad’s heart twisted with jealousy. He wanted his fingertips to be running over that teal silk, to feel her breathe under his hand. Thankful that they were both asleep, he stumbled backwards towards the door and collided with it. Hermia’s long eyelashes fluttered open in alarm and she stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I was looking for Elspeth.”

She gave a slight nod but before she could say anything he turned and walked out of the room, unable to look at Wilmot’s hand on her any longer without crossing the room and cursing them both into the middle of next month.

He found Elspeth, with fury still pounding in his ears, sitting in the dining room looking rather the worse for wear. He sat down automatically smiling over at Mackenzie Lark, the leader singer of The Ashwinders, who had raised his hand in gesture of welcome.

Elspeth yawned. “O-oh, I’m done in. You missed an excellent party Ash, where were you?”

“Work. There’s an emergency that I can’t really go into, but I’m heading off now. I might now be back for a while.”

“Field work? Have you been there long enough?”

“According to Mr Potter I have. He’s sending me out with John Smith. Teddy’s not happy.”

“I’ll bet. I’ve only seen Smith in passing and he gives me the creeps. You look after yourself.”

“I will. I came to ask you if you’d mind taking some gifts to my mum? They’re on the table in my kitchen.”

“Of course I will. It’ll be great to see her.” She smiled and yawned again.

Mackenize had started to pick out an old song on his guitar, his long dark auburn hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over the fret board.

“...remember what I lost like hot coals in my hand from days gone by
like Pandora adored the euphoria as her heart raced
like love lost you've got to try even in vain
feels like you'll go insane
but you're the hardest instrument that I've ever had to play...”

“So, how long have Hermia and Wilmot been together.”

Elspeth looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“They’re downstairs in the study. Asleep. He’s got his hands all over her.” He spat bitterly. His head was pounding as the image of the two of them swirled through it torturously.

“...in my heart I can fly
and I cannot disguise my love
there is no time to...”

“Ash, this is news to me but she’s not like that. If they’ve been talking and fallen asleep, it may just look worse than it actually is.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why am I explaining this to you? You two loathe each other, you always have!”

“...and I wouldn't know how to,
constellations tonight
are so fiercesomely bright, my love
I have no fear
I am Atticus now...”

“I don’t loathe her, I never did. We just got off on the wrong foot, which wasn’t all my fault,” He held his hand up to stall her as she she had opened her mouth to object, “I actually thought that things were changing that night in the Hobgoblin, but I stuffed that royally, didn’t I? And now Shacklebolt’s got his hands all over her.”

“...so why don't we fall into the waves?
can't you see how my heart yearns to misbehave?”

He looked at Elspeth and saw something approaching pity in her eyes. “I can’t stay, I need to get back to work.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood up. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you when I get back.”

She watched him leave, her sore head trying to workout exactly what he had just told her.

~

Hermia jerked awake as the front door slammed. She was aware of Wilmot’s hand on her stomach, curled around the sapphire pendant she was wearing. She shivered slightly, the fire had died out hours before and the room had grown cold. She was glad of Wilmot’s warmth. She was also aware that she was hungry.

“Wil? Wilmot? I think it might just be breakfast time.” She whispered, not really wanting to wake him. He was so handsome that she felt slightly uncomfortable talking to him. Their conversation had largely centered on him asking her questions and her trying not to answer them. He had tried to kiss her before they had fallen asleep, but she had dodged his lips and so he had ended up giving her a rather chaste kiss on the cheek. He slowly opened his eyes.

“Hmmm? Oh, good morning Miss Smith.” He let go of the sapphire and flattened his hand against her abdomen again. She wriggled out of his grasp and stood up.

“I need a cup of coffee” and a hairbrush she thought to herself, looking in the mirror.

“I’ll go see if I can find some. How do you take yours?”

“Black, strong and sweet” She said, without thinking. He broke into a huge grin, reflected over her shoulder.

“Really? That’s good to know.” Still grinning, he walked out of the study, leaving her to blush furiously in his wake.

So, I think we can all see that I am no graphics wizz!

The song is Atticus by The Noisettes, a band I absolutely love.

To see pics of Wilmot and Mackenzie, see the Tempestuous album on my profile page

Jools!! Great work! And thanks for the dedication. Wilmot was fun

I love the little owls! Too cute, they are.

PAMSPAMSPAMSPAMS

"Black, strong, and sweet."

And Ashtad/the song were great!

AND THE OWLS!

Quite the fiery one. =DD
Oooh, pretty description! It was awesome fun to imagine this!

Wow, such intensity. I can imagine how bitter he must be. =O
Bwaha!

Awesome chapter. I loved how there was romance of a very light, lingering kind in here ... very nice work, Joolsh. <3

Thanks, I like to think that Wilmot made us better friends! Those owls are so cute, I love them.

Black, strong and sweet, Yeah. That's not autobiographical at all I never did that oh no!

Did you listen to it? Her voice is just so stunning!

Fiery? You ain't seen the half of it!

Don't worry about Jago, he's tough under all those jokes. He'd have to be to have Hermia as a best friend.

Oh Ashtad was feeling very bitter at that moment. Very bitter.

Yeah, Black strong and sweet. Again... Not me, I didn't do that. HONEST!

Awww thanks Maxie, that's what I was going for.

Eight: Prey

Ashtad Djalili was beyond annoyed. He was beginning to think John Smith was leading him on a wild goose chase right across Europe. They were currently sitting in a filthy muggle bus station, some where in the south of Italy. Or was it Portugal? Ashtad had actually lost track of which country they were in.

“Tell me again what your contact said.” He kept his voice low.

“That the people we are looking for will be here.” Smith replied simply.

Ashtad closed his eyes, trying to retain his composure.

“And you’re sure we’re tracking the right people?”

Smith smirked at him maddeningly. “Of course.”

Ashtad wanted to blast him into a thousand pieces, but as they were in a foreign country and were surrounded by muggles he resisted this urge. He was exhausted, filthy, hungry and most maddeningly, under informed. Smith had insisted upon keeping his information to himself; he kept disappearing for hours at a time to meet with his contacts, leaving Ashtad to wonder exactly what it was that the man had to hide. Ashtad used the time he was alone to write to Teddy, using a code charm on his parchment, to keep his mentor informed of what was going on. He had very little idea of what Teddy thought about the situation. Once Ashtad and Smith were off the british mainland, the talking patronus spell no longer worked. Teddy had warned him that this might be the case. It would seem that distance mattered when it came to magic.

Smith stiffened beside him, like a hound who had caught the sent of a fox. Ashtad followed his gaze to where an elegant woman with long brown hair was just sitting down. She raised her head and Ashtad saw that she had a kind, serene face with an oddly vacant, glazed expression.

“Her?” He breathed to Smith, hardly daring to speak. Smith simply nodded and stood up. He strode confidently across to the woman and sat down next to her. She glanced at Ashtad vacantly and reached inside her robes and passed a letter to Smith. Smith took it and smiled. He returned to where Ashtad was sitting, looking spectacularly smug.

“Well?” Ashtad looked at him expectantly.

“Come on kid, let’s go. It’s time to catch a portkey.”

“Home?” Ashtad could not help but sound a little hopeful.

“Not exactly, no.”

*****

In a splendid breakfast room, surrounded by silent, watchful people, Emil Nequam lifted the baby girl up and looked into her four week old face, not with the wonder or reverence that most people approached a new baby with but with pure, unadulterated loathing. Perhaps the baby could tell, as she screwed up her little face and started to cry. Disgusted by what he saw as a fit of attention seeking, he none too gently put her into the moses basket and walked away, sitting on the far side of the room.

“Well, Emil, what do you think of her?” The commanding voice of Morgana rose above the child’s crying. No-one in the room stirred to comfort her. Every eye was trained on Nequam.

“Beautiful.” His voice was full of its customary coldness.

“Of course she is, she takes after her mother.” Alberich eyed Nequam smugly. He grasped Morgana’s hand, as though he were a dog scent marking its’ territory.

Morgana shook off his hand. “Make the child quiet, either that or remove it.”

Alberich lifted his daughter gently out of the moses basket and rocked her soothingly, as he had seen women do with children before. He felt no attachment to the child other than what her existence meant for him; that he was connected to Morgana in a way that no-one else in the room ever could be. He was sure that there would be no more children, this girl was all his mistress needed. He would never love this child as he did his mistress, but he prized her highly.

“What is she named?” Quirinus Eastman’s dispassionate voice called from across the room.

Morgana replied. “Bellona. She will be forced to fight those who do not accept my wisdom, so it is best that her name reflects that.”

The people who had been listening smiled appreciatively. The name was apt indeed. Bellona: to fight.

*****

“Something in your glances
Puts a spell on me
As the world fades all around
You’re all that I can see
And this time is right for falling
This time I’m gonna
That’s the price I will pay...”

Hermia was listening to a muggle radio station that she had charmed her radio station to play. Laying on her bed, she stared listlessly at the ceiling. There was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door hinges creaked and Amelia appeared in the doorway.

“Sweetheart, you have a visitor downstairs.”

Hermia frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone; Elspeth and Jago had gone to Paris for Valentines’ day and there was no-one else who might visit her at home.

“Who is it?”

Amelia smiled widely, her eyes twinkling.

“Come down and see. They’re waiting for you in the garden.”

She left as Hermia stood up, perplexed and slightly annoyed, why couldn’t Amelia just say who it was? She checked her appearance in the mirror and grabbed her cloak, turning the radio off with a swish of her wand.

She walked through the cottage in no particular hurry. When she reached the kitchen, she saw that Teddy had started to make dinner.

“... Remus Alexander Lupin! If I have to tell you about that one more time young man, I’ll attach it to your finger with a permanent sticking charm! ”

Remus sniggered at his father’s serious tone and ran out of the room at high speed.

“And YOU, Miss Smith,” Teddy said in the same tone, pointing the fish slice at her in an aggressive fashion, “No funny business!”

Hermia held up her hands in surrender, indicating her innocence. He cracked a smile and said, “Go on then, outside!” chuckling to himself.

She opened the door and stepped out into the crisp february air. There, sitting on the slightly rickety, frost covered garden furniture was Wilmot Shacklebolt looking simply resplendent in a vivid burgundy traveling cloak and black robes.

He stood up and walked towards her, taking her hand and kissing it again, in the way he had when they had met. His fingers slipped up her sleeve in the same practiced fashion and again her pulse quickened.

“Miss Smith, it has been too long.” He rumbled in his deep slow voice.

“Has it?” She asked, almost dismissively as she withdrew her hand.

“Seven weeks is a long time, especially when someone makes a first impression like you do.”

“Is that right?” She asked him lightly, stepping away from him. Again she was being deliberately evasive.

“Oh absolutely. You have been dancing through my dreams ever since.”

A comment like that would usually have earned a derisive snort from Hermia, but instead her stomach squirmed pleasurably.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

She led him on a walk into the frost painted woods, unwittingly following the same path that another young woman from Lupin Cottage had led a handsome young visitor along twenty years before. As they walked he tried again to ask her about herself, her family, but she skilfully deflected the questions. Seeking to draw attention away from herself she asked;

“Why does Jago call you Tell?”

Wilmot chuckled.

“Not as obvious as Beautiful Girl or Aoife, is it? I met him at the dueling championships last year. He watched me, lost to me and then decided that I was really William Tell.”

“The archer? The one who shot an apple off his own son’s head?”

“That’s right, the muggle. I had to look him up.” He seemed to be impressed that Hermia knew who he was talking about. Hermia gave Wilmot an evaluating glance. To beat Jago would have taken speed, power and talent.

They had walked a circuit through the trees and had ended up back in the garden of Lupin Cottage. Teddy had built a small extension to the cottage, a sort of shed that he laughingly called the owlery. Coming from it was a persistent, scared hooting. They rushed across to investigate. Wilmot crouched down to see what the problem was.

“It was this one, she was stuck.”

He passed a rather disgruntled Artemis to Hermia. The owl nipped her hard and flew off into the afternoon sky. Hermia was just about to remark how strange this was when there was a loud 'smack' from inside the owlery.

“Good Godric that hurt!”

Wilmot emerged, the side of his face already begging to swell.

“Oooh, that looks like a black eye coming up.”

Hermia reached up with her cool hand and tentatively and stroked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her thumb. A small gasp of shock escaped her lips, she was completely mesmerised by him and couldn’t move when he grasped her waist, pulling her tiny frame to him. He bent low and kissed her softly. For a moment she allowed her self to melt into the kiss. He licked her top lip and she pulled away, her eyes suddenly furious. Without warning, she swung her arm back and slapped him, hard on the uninjured side of his face. Giving him a cold, contemptuous look she stalked back to the cottage, slamming the door behind her.

~

“... I kissed her, right and it was great! And then for no reason at all, she slaps me straight in the face, harder than you’d think someone that small ever could, gives me a look worthy of a basilisk and stomps off back inside!”

Jago laughed so hard that he almost fell off his chair. He put down his half drunk glass of mead and wiped the tears of mirth form his eyes.

“Well, there’s one thing I can say about my BG, she’s unpredictable.” he said blithely.

“Unpredictable? She’s the most fiery person I’ve ever met!”

Jago laughed again. “Yes, she’s that too. Did you ask her if you could kiss her?”

Wilmot frowned. “I just went with the flow, is that such a bad thing?”

“It is when it comes to her. No-one is allowed to know more than she wants them to, including what it feels like to kiss her apparently.”

Wilmot shook his head. “Unbelievable!”

“And a few other things too.” Jago started to laugh at the look of sheer frustration on Wilmot’s face.


The song is I’m Gonna Fall by Ash. I'm a 90's indie kid at heart! Do you listen to the songs? I know my clone does because I make her but what about everyone else?

Emil Nequam's photo has now joined the Tempestuous gallery. Kita (when she gets here) will not be surprised, although I have to say, he's not quite that clever or that bonkers!

I loved it!!!
The Morgana flashback was great, and slightly scary.
And Hermia and Wilmot following that "same certain path" was just too cute!
Wilmot seems like he's getting a little ahead of himself there, if you understand.
Off to listen to the song!

Oh Wil! THat is all I have to say about that one.

And I want to give Ashtad a big hug... and maybe a kiss

Good work as usual Jools!

PAMS

Iloveyou.<3



WHY DOES THIS SOUND SO FAMILIAR?

Classy. Real classy. -loves this bit-

He sounds cracked.

*pushes him off the edge of a cliff*
There. =DD

My God, I am in LOVE with this guy. He is ... too classy. Subtle, totally romantic ... and, of course, MEGA hot. Wow.

*marries him*

In other words ... he's HOT! WILMOT'S HOT!

Aww, Hermia, the man already has a black eye.

... and you ruined AN AWESOME MOMENT, Beautiful Girl!
*grumbles in the background*

I love Jago too, you know. <3





* * * I WANT MORE! MORE! MORE!
*chants lyk maaad*

Ok. I am following your advice. This message might be long but ah well. Here goes:

Fall: Ooh! Ashtad following her (sort of)! The Andrew Williamson comment is so funny. Aw! Poor Ashtad! I'd hate to see that. I think i'm going to cry. See Jooles (did i spell your name right? please correct me if i haven't). Look what you just did. Aw! Poor Hermia! I know how that feels. Brave girl. Ah! So that's how Jago and Hermia met. Hey! I didn't know us English people were like that. Really i didn't. Now you mention it, though, maybe we are. Aw! Poor Ashtad. I like that bit of poetry, though.

Stunning: Aw! You re-introduced the Hobgoblin. OMG! Hermia’s jealous! I’d just like to take this moment to say: I knew it! Morgana! Did you take that from where i think you took it from? Aw! Ashtad is feeling jealous! Poor guy! OMG! Talk about a fight! Haha! I love the way Jago called Adrasteia “Blondie”. Wow! I love the way Ashtad handled the situation (sort of). Tut, tut, tut, Ashtad. Bad move. Jago and Elspeth? Ok. I won’t say anything to that.

Seal: Seven hundred and fifty thousand galleons? Wow! Ooh! MAB! Wonder who that is? Ooh. Unless...No. I’m not going to say. Ashtad is so cheeky! Poor Hermia. That must have been ambarrassing. Aw! Poor George! I feel so sorry for him sometimes. I knew it! I knew it had something to do with Morgana! Cosmo and Caitlin make me laugh sometimes. I envy Remus. I would love to have the complete works of Kennilworthy Whisp. Poor Hermia. That must be awful.

Ice: Ooh! A Christmas party! I love the sound of what she’s wearing. It sounds nice. Wilmot. Nice name. Aw! Hermia’s leaving! Poor girl! I feel so sorry for her. I can’t believe Thea died. That’s really mean of those people who did this. Aw! Artemis and Araceli! They’re so cute. I think i’ve heard the name Artemis before. Uh-oh. You did not just mention John Smith. *glares at him* I don’t like that guy. Aw! Poor Ashtad feeling jealous! Haha! Black strong and sweet! I couldn’t help laughing at that.

Prey: Ugh! John Smith again. Can i blast him into a thousand pieces? Please? I really want to. And that letter. I really want to know what it says, now. Especially when John Smith is concerned. I don’t like Morgana and Alberich either. They’re so mean to their daughter and Emils was mean as well. Wilmot is too good. I don’t know why and i don’t know how to explain myself even further but he just is. I just have to say: Go Hermia! I don’t know why she decided to slap him but wow! Just goes to show that just because you’re small, doesn’t mean you’re not strong (that doesn’t apply to me but ah well).

Aw! I’m mentioned! I feel so happy now. And i saw the pictures. All i can say is: I am not surprised. A couple of familiar faces and some people i’ve seen before but really good choices. What do you mean by “he’s not that clever or that bonkers”? Just to clarify?

I am so glad i’ve finally caught up! Great posts! Loved them! Can’t wait for more!
Kita

you say all the nicest things, mainly because you agree with me!


Listen you can't have them both! Ashtad might need to be reaquaited with soap and a toothbrush before anyone else will go near him, mind.
Thanks

Thanks! That made me smlie.

It links back to Bright Lights, to something that we don't see but that we are told about.

Really? Thanks, I played about with that for around 15 mins getting it right.

Good work! Now, whinch him back up, we need him.

You may just have to battle the Pink Ninja for him She has a prior claim.


Of course he is! He's Kingsley's grandson!

Well, d'you expect her to do anything else? She's been brought up to expect to be worshipped, Thea instilled that in her.

Another greedy one? goodness! Elspeth might have something to say about that....

You'll just have to wait, like everyone else

It's a long one, made up of short ones He's doing that, 'I want to be near you' thing, such a stalker! Tears over a kiss? just wait and see! It's hard to start a new school after the age of about 10, I had to do it and I hated it for ages. I'm not saying all English people are like that, but it is a bit of an English trait, it goes along with all that stiff upper lip business. I love TS Eliot, he was marvellous!

Of course she's jealous! Did you see who he was with? I took Morgana more from the legend and from Morgan le Fey than from the show that we both love, cos she's not exactly Merlin's enemy yet is she? It would have been a bigger fight had I not sent the boys in there. Yeah, when he woke up, he really did manage to diffuse it properly. It was a bad move, wasn't it? Silly boy. Don't you like Jago and Elspeth together?

Yes, our Hermia is a very wealthy young lady, not that she is at all grateful. Hmmm, MAB, whom could that be? Ashtad is cheeky, that's why we like him. I kind imagine that it would be embarrasing to have your underwear on display in the Great Hall at breakfast time, but he didn't know she was allergic to fever fudge. She didn't blame him for it though, did she? Poor George indeed, imagine how much you back would ache from being kept prisoner under the table all afternoon! Yup, I can't have too many characters with the same first initial, I'd go loopy. It had to be Morgana. Hermia does have people she can talk to, if she chooses to trust them.

I love a good party And so does Jago. I had a ball gown that was similar when I was at university, except mine was midnight blue. Hermia is on her way to Grimmauld Place in that flashback. Thea did die, bless her. The shopkeer in Eyelope's on Diagon Alley is called Artemis (on the RPG that is, not in cannon.) The owls have been mentioned in this fic too. I did mention John Smith, sorry but he is necessary. Black, strong and sweet, hmmmm I really didn't say by accident like Hermia that in real life, honest

No, you can't blast Smith to bits, not yet anyway. We're hurtling towards a certain point in the story that none of us are looking forward to, but has to be done. The letters you'll have to wait and see! Of course Morgana, Alberich and Emil are mean, they're the bad guys! But Hermia picked up on it, even as a tiny baby. Possibly some of it might have rubbed off on her? I'll let you decide. Wilmot was designed to be simply marvellous. Is he too good to be true? I can't tell you that! She slapped him because he was taking liberties, as my grandmother would have said. Thea taught Hermia that she is to be worshipped by men. Hermia felt that what he did was not respectful. It was Wilmot's own fault for underestimating her. He was just lucky that she didn't start throwing hexes around.

Oh, I'm glad they matched up to their descriptions, more of less. Go and have another look at Emil and think Time Lord. The Face of Boe told the Doctor: You Are Not Alone.

I'm glad you're enjoying it. There's fun to come soon, I promise.

Jools (no e )

P.S. Where was my Belly Dance? You're just about the only one who gets that joke!

*pushes him off the edge again* What did you say, Jools?

We can share, please? Let the fight begin!

xDD

NUUUU! *wails*

More, more, MORE!

Shifty indeed!

Maxie, we need him! Whinch him back up!

Hey, it's between the two of you!


You are so demanding!

Nine: Fire.

Teddy sat reading the latest missive from Ashtad, becoming increasingly angry. When he reached the end of it, he stood up, marched to Harry‘s office and threw open the door.

“Have you seen this?” He all but shouted.

Harry arched one eyebrow at the explosion of temper from his godson. “Since you’re still holding it, probably not, no.”

Teddy slapped the letter down in front of him. “Read it!” Teddy plonked himself down into one of the chairs, with one ankle on the opposite knee, bouncing it up and down as he jiggled his leg in an outward display of his restive temper.

Before Harry could read more than a few lines, Teddy burst out, no longer able to contain his fury. “He’s got the boy so exhausted, he’s leading him around by the nose!”

Harry sighed. “Ted, I know that you and he -”

Teddy cut him off. “This isn’t about me and him! He’s up to something Harry! That woman,” Teddy seized the letter from Harry and pointed out the passage about the woman in the bus station with the long brown hair. “It’s like Ashtad says, she’d clearly been Imperiused! We need to get them back here, I’m worried for the boy!”

“Ashtad is a man, Teddy, and he can look after himself.” Harry reminded him mildly, retrieving the letter from his grasp and reading it through.

“Don’t you think that Smith-”

“Ted, stop it. You’ve hated him for years; you are not being objective-”

“Objective? OBJECTIVE?” Teddy had totally lost any hold that he had over his anger now. “When was the last time he contacted you? Just tell me that you know something I don’t and I’ll not say another word.” Teddy clutched at his soft tawny curls, as though he could pull more information from his mind by tearing out his hair.

Harry looked into his face and saw a distant echo of another Lupin, tortured by the actions and intentions of other people and his immediate anger with Teddy softened through a remembered sense of guilt.

“No, I don’t know anything else… I’ll bring them home, as soon as I can.” If he had expected this to pacify Teddy, he was sorely mistaken.

“You should have done that weeks ago!” Teddy stood up and stalked out of Harry’s office and back towards his own desk. From behind him, Harry bellowed “LUPIN! GET YOUR BACKSIDE BACK IN HERE NOW!”

Teddy stalked back into the office and slammed the door.

“We’re not at home, you don’t speak to me like that here. Anyone else would be moving to the centaur office quicker than they could blink.” Harry was controlling his own anger, but only just. “Don’t think for a second think that I underestimate Smith but don’t you dare underestimate Djalili. He’s not a child, he can look after himself.”

Although Harry’s voice had remained level, Teddy could not have felt worse if he had actually been out-shouted. “Harry, I’m s-”

“It doesn’t matter. Now, let’s see what we can sort out.”

The two of them fell into a very logistical conversation about the best way to bring Smith and Ashtad home.


*****

Phoenix Felicis was cosseted in the silent calm of the library, where he preferred to be. He had been working on his Transfiguration essay for two hours. The Saturday afternoon sun was setting, washing the books with a golden orange glow. His essay stretched across the table and over the other side, rolling back up of its own accord. His concentration was broken as Ashtad Djalili rushed, as quickly as he dared, through the library towards him. Phoenix expected him to sit down, but instead Ashtad ducked behind one of the shelves and crouched down, so that only Phoenix could see him. Rolling his eyes, Phoenix whispered “What did you do now?”

“Have you seen her?” A look of unbridled glee spread across Ashtad’s face.

There was no need to ask who he was referring to.

“What did you do?”

“Shh!” Ashtad pointed up the aisle as a short figure, with a very red face came storming towards them.

“Where is he?” She demanded, through gritted teeth, as Ashtad crept away unseen. There was an odd scent suddenly and he couldn’t quite work out what it was.

Phoenix arranged his face in to an expression into polite bewilderment. “Who?”

“Djalili. I know you know where he is.” Phoenix looked away from her face, her eyes were so filled with anger that he felt as though they might bore into him. Her hair seemed lopsided.

“Have you had a hair cut?” He asked innocently.

“Not exactly.” She hissed at him, turning around so that he could see where the hair on one side of her head had been singed away so that instead of reaching her waist, it reached her shoulders.

“What happened?” He asked, his mouth falling open in shock.

“Your juvenile friend smuggled a fire-crab out of Care of Magical Creatures and fed it Pepper Imps!”

Phoenix’s eyebrows shot up upwards in shock. “So it had fire coming out of both ends?” He thought that she was lucky to have any hair left at all but was wise enough not to share this with her.

She nodded, seemingly unable to actually speak anymore.

“I’m sorry Hermia, I haven’t seen him.” It was a lie, but not out of loyalty. He felt that he was saving Ashtad from more than just having Hermia scream at him. The look in her eyes told him that she was more than ready to flay Ashtad within an inch of his life and she would be the one to get a detention if that happened, which she would not have deserved.

“Humph!” Apparently, Hermia had not regained the power of speech. She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Ashtad crept back around the bookcase still grinning. Phoenix frowned at him. “I don’t get you. It’s like you think you’re Fred Weasley or something.”
Ashtad just winked at him.

*****

Ashtad jerked awake. He was moving, or to be more exact, the seat he was sitting on was vibrating, as though he was in some sort of vehicle. His hand flew to his pocket, where his wand should have been.

“Looking for this, freak?” Someone was pointing his own wand at him.

He sat up slowly. The large, brutish man in front of him was grinning in a dull way. Ashtad realised that he had fallen asleep on the train that Smith had insisted they take from Paris to London. It went under the sea, which Ashtad thought was a very dodgy idea indeed. In his present predicament, Ashtad could quite happily have killed Smith with his bare hands.

“Yes, and I want it back.” Ashtad said firmly.

“Is that ri-” The man didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying, Ashtad had punched him, slamming his head into the window and knocking him out cold. He grabbed his wand, Summoned his bag and walked calmly out of the carriage. As the door of the next carriage slid open he saw Smith lounging in a seat, reading a French newspaper.

“There’s an unconscious bloke back there. You’ll have to go modify his memory because if I do it, I’ll kill him and then you.” Ashtad said in a matter of fact tone as he sat in the seat opposite Smith. Smith lowered his newspaper and considered Ashtad for a moment. Without saying a word, he stood up and walked out of the carriage.

Ashtad picked up the paper and began to read. After a while Smith returned and sat down.

“It’s sorted.”

“Good. If you leave me exposed like that again John, I will kill you.” It was not a threat; it was a statement of intent.
Smith looked at Ashtad, a snarl of contempt settling on his lips. “I will be sure to remember that.” His voice dripped with scorn.


With thanks to my clone for letting me borrow Phoenix Felicis.

I read the entire thing last night, and I love it. But you know that.

I love feeling 'in the know' about things that are happening because of Bright Lights, but then also knowing that if I had read it as a stand-alone, I'd be just as engaged, but with more mystery. I'm trying to look at what's happening from both perspectives, and it's great either way.

I am so glad you love my Phoenix Love the update, but you already knew that
Please add more soon

Yay! An update!

Wow! Teddy getting angry? OMG! Never knew him to be like that. Although it must be really, really, really serious! Haha! Harry's comment on not seeing the paper was hilarious! Oh no! Are they talking about John Smith again? *gives that guy evils* Aw! Remus! Go Harry for taking action! Sort of. Djalili! That seriously broke the tension for me! Harry reminded me of Dumbledore in that last bit in the first bit. behaviour from Ashtad. Hm... That comment from Phoenix was funny! "Juvenile"? Wow! Ashtad must be really mischievous! Aw! Poor Hermia! That's so sad! I'd hate for that to happen to my hair! Phoenix's comment on Ashtad being like Fred was funny! Slightly sad but still funny. Oh no! Where's Ashtad?! That's sad! Leave him alone! Ooh! Go Ashtad! That was seriously cool! And he managed to say he'll kill John! Yipee! Great post! Loved it! Can't wait for more!

Oh yeah and before i forget:

Kita

Jools!

Can I tell you how epic you are?! Bright Lights made me cry so hard and nao Tempestous is going to be just as epic I can feel it.

You're such an inspiration as I told you :3

Cheers luff

WOAH, I'm late! I loved it, as usual.
The flashbacks are always hilarious, and Phoenix Felicis is an AWESOME name (even though you borrowed it!)
The last scene *sigh*... intense! PAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMS!

- Mel

Thanks! I am trying to write it so that you don't need to have read Bright Lights, since there is quite a lot packed into that fic! I'm glad you're here!

You know I love Phoenix, as does someone else

Only one thing to say about that comment:

I'm glad you love it!

You can tell me I'm epic, but I might choose not to believe you! I still can't believe you told me that you don't cry at books and fics very often and then I made you cry!

I've borrowed the whole of Phoenix from Erin, you'll see why in a moment.
I'm glad that you're loving it! I promise to come and catch up on yours very soon!

Ten: Infatuate

Ashtad followed his friends through The Floo network and into the Atrium. The Victory Day Ball had all ready begun. The golden symbols which usually moved across the ceiling had been replaced by silver stars which twinkled in the peacock blue ceiling. His plum dress robes felt oddly stiff and uncomfortable after months of being dressed in scuffy muggle clothing. All he really wanted to do was go home to bed and sleep for a week, but he had said that he would be there and he was a man of his word.

“Oh my poor heart, where has it gone?
It’s left me for a spell…”

He could see Mackenzie Lark up on stage, singing a very respectable cover version of an old Celestina Warbeck song. He could see Phoenix waiting for him and he made his way through the crowd. “Alright mate?” He grinned at the suit Phoenix was wearing. He tried so hard to hide his money and connections that he had cultivated an air of faded grandeur, as though his vault at Gringotts was only full of cobwebs.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you see that girl?” Phoenix asked him. Ashtad looked towards the stage where Phoenix was pointing. Mackenzie was leaning forward while the guitarist played a solo. He was talking to a short girl with wavy blonde hair.

“Cadence? Yeah, she’s Mac’s little sister. Don’t you remember her?” Phoenix shook his head and Ashtad looked at him with mild amusement. He looked like he’d been hit over the head with a blunt object.

“She’s…” He seemed unable to express his thoughts about her.

“Beautiful? Wait ‘til you meet her. Cady’s cool, come on, I’ll introduce you.” The two of them made their way through the crowd. As they neared the stage there was a loud squeal over the music. With a flash of blonde curls, Adrasteia Harper had her arms around Ashtad’s neck and was kissing him on the cheek.

“Where have you been hiding?” She pouted.

“Oh, you know around. Berlin, Rome, Madrid… around.” Ashtad told her, shooting a look at Phoenix that clearly said Leave me and die! Adrasetia pulled him down into a kiss, which quickly became intense. Ashtad tried to pull away, but she was like a limpet and she wouldn’t let him go. Eventually he managed to detach her lips from his, frowning at Phoenix who smirked a little.

“Hello ‘Tia, how are you?”

Without letting go of Ashtad, Adrasteia turned and pulled Phoenix into a deep kiss. He stumbled backwards a look of shocked disgust. Ashtad put his hands on Adrasteia’s waist and pushed her away from him. She gave him a hurt look and turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

“What in the name of Merlin’s pants was that all about?” Phoenix asked him, beginning to laugh.

“Not a clue! I think she’s drunk.” Ashtad joined in with Phoenix’s laughter.

Up on the stage, The Ashwinders brought the Celestina Warbeck song to an end with an impressive crescendo. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Mackenzie’s strong Yorkshire accent was magically magnified over the applause, “We are very lucky tonight that my beautiful and talented sister Cadence is going to grace us with a song.” Phoenix stopped laughing and clapping and stared at the stage where Cadence was blushing. “I’ll pay you later bruv!” She chuckled. As the band struck up with a sultry song, Ashtad turned to Phoenix and asked “Have you seen Hermia Smith anywhere?”

“I'm a broken doll,

And you're the puppeteer…”

“Shhhh!” Phoenix slapped him hard on the arm. He was totally transfixed by the young woman on stage. 



“I don't claim to be perfect -

I know I'm damaged goods,

But I wanna be let out of darkness

Just like every lady would…”


And then Ashtad saw her, dancing with Wilmot Shacklebolt, his hands on her hips, her head on his shoulder, his lips on her ear…


“Lick my wounds and watch them seal

With a healing heart,

Embrace my sadness, look after me,

'Cause there's no-one else I'd ask...”

Ashtad felt the pain of the disappointment shred his stomach. “Drink?” he muttered hoarsely. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed his way blindly through the dancers to the refreshment table, seeking out a glass of anything that he could get his hands on. Eventually, firewhisky seared his taste buds. He looked back towards the dance floor. They were gone. Swearing violently he slammed his glass down onto the table and stormed towards the fireplace. A hand closed on his wrist.

“Hey! You’re not leaving without saying goodbye are you?”

He turned, for a moment expecting to she Hermia standing there. But the curls were blonde, not brown. “I’m sorry Tia. I just don’t feel like partying tonight.”

“Aww that’s a shame,” she purred, pouting a little. She pressed herself against him, winding her arms around his body. “I wanted us to catch up, I’ve missed you.”

Ashtad tried to detach himself again from the girl. She was like Devil’s Snare. “I just want to go home Tia. I’m tired. I’ll -”

Adrasetia had kissed him again and this time he kissed her back. He didn’t like her, but at that moment, liking her didn’t seem important. Her lips were so soft and her hands were so warm, he had not felt comfort like this in what felt like years. After several, intense moments they broke apart and he looked down at her. “Come on, let’s dance.” He led her onto the dance floor.

*****

Hermia could hear giggling. She looked over her shoulder to see who it was and was annoyed to see a fellow Ravenclaw, Jack Mannequin was trying to suppress his laughter by stuffing his knuckles into his mouth. Next to him sat a Hufflepuff, Cadence Lark, who had clearly done something to make him laugh in the first place as she too was giggling like a loon. Professor Boot called out “Miss Smith, are you listening?” Hermia could barely believe her ears. He was reprimanding her but ignoring them? That was hardly fair.

“Yes sir.” She concentrated on her Wit-Sharpening Potion, ignoring the frequent giggles from behind her. At the end of the lesson, she packed up her things and glared at the two of them as she walked past.

“You want to lighten up you do.” Jack’s Irish lilt followed her up the corridor.

She whipped around, hair flying and narrowed her eyes at the pair of them.

“You two prat about and I get in trouble? Oh yes, that puts me in a very light mood.” She snarled.

“Oh come on Hermia, if you relaxed a bit you might have some, errrm, what is that stuff?” Cadence asked Jack. Before he could answer, she said “Oh yes, I know, fun!”

The two of them started to laugh again.

Infuriated, but apparently without an answer for them, she stormed away, out of the dungeon corridor and up to the Great Hall. She took a seat opposite Elspeth and pulled a bowl of leek and potato soup towards her. Ashtad came and sat next to Elspeth.

“And don’t you start Djalili!”

Elspeth looked at him. “What have you done now?”

He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m innocent!” Both girls gave him a look of disbelief.

“This time, I really am innocent!”

*****

“Oh my poor heart, where has it gone?
It’s left me for a spell…”

Hermia stood back from the dance floor, her tiny frame clad in periwinkle robes, her chocolate brown hair cascading in curls down her back. She sent frequent and increasingly nervous glances towards the fireplaces. She turned to Elspeth, “And you’re sure?”
Elspeth rolled her eyes. “Yes I’m sure. I saw him this morning and he said that he was coming.”


“Just calm down BG, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.” Jago joked, digging her in the ribs. She turned and shot him a nasty look and was about to give him a list of reasons why he was wrong when she saw:

“Wil!” Her eyes widened with shock. She had not seen him since the day that she had slapped him.

“Miss Smith, a vision as ever.” Wilmot took her hand and kissed it for the third time, again slipping his fingers along her wrist, causing her pulse to quicken traitorously. He released her and greeted Elspeth and Jago, kissing her on the cheek and shaking hands with him. Hermia reeled momentarily, and then pulled herself back together. She looked out across the dance floor and saw Ashtad with Phoenix, making their way towards the stage where Mackenzie Lark was leaning forward to speak to his sister. Suddenly, Adrasetia Harper was flinging herself shamelessly at Ashtad, kissing him. Hermia’s blood began to boil.

“… to dance?”

She span on her heel, back towards her friends. “Sorry?”

“I said, would you like to dance?” Wilmot smiled, extending his hand.

“That would be… lovely.” She said, turning back to the dance floor to see Ashtad with his hands on Adrasetia’s waist. Hermia took Wilmot’s hand and almost dragged him onto the dance floor.

Mackenzie introduced his sister Cadence and The Ashwinders started to play a new, smooth song. Wilmot took Hermia into his arms. She felt slightly awkward. The last time they had been this close he had kissed her and she had slapped him.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured suddenly.

He lowered his lips to her ear. “I rather enjoyed it.” She looked up at him and saw that he was grinning. She blushed. She allowed him to pull her closer to him, feeling his hard, muscular body almost absorb her curves.

“Piece me all together,

The broken high and sweet,

You thought my heart was made of wood

But I, I hear it beat…”

“Come on, I want to show you something.” He laced his fingers into hers and guided her towards the lifts.

When they were inside he pressed all the buttons and then pulled her into his arms, kissing her so suddenly and enthusiastically that he took her breath away. She returned the kiss automatically, not because she liked him or because she even wanted to but because the anger within her had not yet subsided. The lift clattered and clanged as they sank into the depths of the ministry and the kiss became so intense that he lifted her off her feet.


Quote: Celestina Warbeck song from page 311 of the British Hardback copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Broken Doll by Paloma Faith

oh my sweet jesus jools that was a brilliant post. and i am utterly astounded that you decided to use me as a character in one of your flashbacks.

i expect that in my new ff i can totally use you as well fo' sho.

luffs as always and forevah!
Jack.

Great update, Jools. I am loving that Cadence and Phoenix are popping up!

PAMS