Daoimear de Dán: Portraits of A Life

Chapter Summary: Halloween is always a bad time of year. Only the kind of bad seems to change.

“Mummy!” Now another voice demanded Hermione’s attention. She turned back into the living room. This was usually a fairly neatly kept room but at present looked like a bomb had hit a sweet shop and craft shop and the two had been terribly mixed up.

“Yes Kitty?” she asked, looking down at her seven year old daughter.

“I’ve changed my mind,” said the raven-haired girl, her green eyes glittering with untold mischief. “I don’t want to go as Angelina. I bet everyone will go as Angelina.”

“But you were adamant that Angelina was your hero and you wanted to go to the party as her,” Hermione reminded her daughter gently.

“But Rain said she was going as Angelina. I don’t want to be the same as Rain!”

“Well, what do you want to be? Bearing in mind that we’re meant to Floo to the Burrow in five minutes.”

“I want to go as... I want to go as...” Kitty began to give this serious consideration.

“Mummy? I’m ready now.” Hermione turned. The eldest twin, Lilyella, was standing in the doorway. She’d chosen to go as a fairy princess and her dress sparkled in the light, changing colour from pink to blue every so often. Her brown hair was curled up just as Hermione had done it five minutes ago and her green eyes sparkled as brightly as her dress.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” breathed Hermione. Lilyella blushed quite furiously and came further into the room.

“You really think so?”

“Yes dear. Don’t eat all of those sweets now,” she said as Lilyella’s hand crept into the large bag of sweets. The fairy princess had the good grace to look abashed and moved away from the temptation of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

“Mummy!” shouted Kitty. “I’ve thought of what I want to go as!”

She was practically hopping up and down in her Official Angelina Weasley Chudley Cannons(TM) uniform.

“I want to go as... him!” she pronounced, shoving a Muggle CD under Hermione’s nose.

“John Lennon, dear?” she asked doubtfully. She had been playing the girls some of the Beatles’ music, but hadn’t thought either had liked it much.

“Yes! I want to go as John Lennon. He’s the bestest wizard ever.”

“Yeah, but he pretended to be a Muggle,” said Lilyella. “How stupid is that?”

“Don’t you call him stupid, Ellie!”

“Don’t call me Ellie!”

“Stop!” Hermione shouted before a full-scale fight could break out. “Don’t call her Ellie. Lilyella, don’t make fun of John Lennon. Now, Kitty come here.”

Hermione paused for a moment.

“I’m going to transfigure your Cannon uniform for the night, all right?”

“Yes Mummy,” said Kitty, minding a little that her precious replica Angelina kit might be ruined, but not wanting to wind up her mother any more and risk losing sweet privileges. Hermione worked for a moment to transfigure the bright orange Quidditch robe into a grey collarless suit fit for a Beatle. Then she simply combed Kitty’s hair.

“Accio Sleekeasys!” she called. The tube of straightener flew down the stairs into her hand and from there she tamed Kitty’s usually untamed hair into something to make any Beatle fan proud.

“There!”

“Do I look like John Lennon, Mummy?” Kitty asked eagerly. Hermione nodded.

“Now, where’s your father?” she asked. As if on cue, Harry Potter came down the stairs with his two year old son in his arms.

“We’re ready!” he said brightly. The lion animagus was dressed up as... a lion, while his son was dressed in a furry suit to match. “You’re not ready, Hermione.”

“Yes I am.”

“What are you going as?”

“Watch,” she said. She waved her wand once and was dressed from head to toe in a fine gold costume.

“Cleopatra, Hermione? That’s not very, well, you.”

“That’s the point dear,” she said, adjusted her braided wig. “It’s Halloween. Now, hands out for Floo powder.”

She gave out rations of the powder to the girls, who then got into the fire and shouted ‘The Burrow!’.

“You want me to take Richard?” she asked.

“Nah. We’ll make a better entrance this way,” Harry said with a lopsided grin. “You look... fantastic.”

“Like Elizabeth Taylor?” she asked. His face was a blank. “Never mind. I’ll fill you in later. You first.”

***

“Hermione! You look beautiful!” called Ginny Weasley, herself dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (a popular factual book for magical children) right down to the ruby slippers. The Burrow was filled with people dressed as weird and wonderful things. Many people had attempted a go at dressing like Muggles for the event with varying degrees of success. The party was mostly held in the garden despite the cold spell that had hit Britain over the last few days.

“Did Harry and Richard get here all right?” Hermione asked Ginny. Ginny nodded.

“Yes. They got taken outside as soon as they got here. Richard makes the sweetest little lion cub I’ve ever seen. Although Harry looks more like the Cowardly Lion. Me and him make quite the pair. Especially with Percy here as the Scarecrow.”

“Percy came as the Scarecrow?” Hermione didn’t bother hiding her surprise.

“Penny made him,” said Ginny with a snicker. “Let’s go outside. Bill’s doing the food. Should be ready soon.”

They headed out into the crisp October evening. The garden was full of adults and children all dressed in various costumes. Although some looked oddly familiar....

“Ginny...” she started. Ginny laughed, knowing what Hermione was about to say.

“So far, I’ve counted eleven Harrys, six Hermiones and six Rons.”

True enough, a group of children dressed as school-age Harry Potters were stood talking to several Hermiones and Rons. Each had the messy black hair, the slightly wrinkled Gryffindor robes. Two were clutching fake Snitches. Three Hermiones were carrying fake copies of Hogwarts: A History. One of the Rons had a plate piled high with food balanced precariously on his knee.

“Can you believe this?” Harry asked as he saw Hermione and Ginny.

“I think it’s sweet!” said Ginny.

“Strange. The word is strange,” Harry amended. Ginny just laughed and headed off to the food table.

They mingled for a while, meeting and greeting Charlie and his family who were visiting from Croatia. Hermione cooed over Anna, the two month old daughter of Charlie and Romana who was making her very first visit to Britain, while Harry got into an in-depth conversation with Romana about dragon-rearing.

Lilyella and Kitty had gravitated of course, towards the other children. Both found it highly amusing that most of their friends had come as their mum and dad. Rain Weasley, daughter of Ron and best friend to Kitty, hadn’t come as Angelina either.

“But you said you were going to!” she protested, suddenly deciding she didn’t like her Martin Miggs costume at all. “I only didn’t come as Angelina because you were going to!”

“Well, I didn’t because of you!” countered Kitty. “But I think my new costume is much better anyway!”

Lilyella’s best friend was George Weasley’s son Paul. He’d come as a Filibuster Firework- his father’s idea. At certain intervals, red and gold sparks shot out of his sleeves. It had, he proclaimed proudly, been his dad’s idea and creation.

“Where’s Ron?” asked Hermione. “Or Deanna, for that matter?”

“No idea. Rain’s here. Haven’t seen either of them,” Harry replied, looking around for his friend.

“Hi guys!” They turned to see Deanna, Ron’s wife, standing in the kitchen doorway. She was dressed up as Harry as he was during the final battle, down to the messy black hair, dragon-hide trousers and a replica of Gryffindor’s sword.

“Deanna! You look fabulous!” exclaimed Hermione. “Although the robes look a little long for you.”

“It’s Ron’s old school uniform. Genuine stuff these. Not the fake Harry Potter costumes they were selling down Diagon Alley.”

“Where is Ron?” asked Harry.

“Oh Harree!” a voice screeched at a rather high pitch. The entire party fell silent. From the kitchen emerged a woman with impossibly bushy brown hair. Ron had come as Hermione. Everyone burst into noisy, raucous laughter. Ron was wearing what were probably Ginny’s old school robes and his fake breasts were far too large for them. His hairy legs were visible where they were too short, although he’d shoved his feet into a pair of girl’s shoes. On his face, someone had drawn the lipstick particularly badly while his eyes looked rather more like a panda’s than Hermione’s. Unlike the little girls who made do with one fake copy of Hogwarts: A History, Ron was carrying a huge pile of books.

“I do NOT look like that, Ronald!” yelled Hermione. More laughter.

“Oh Harree! I simply must do some more studying tonight. No snogs for you!”

“Thank God for that,” replied Harry, having no luck with not laughing.

“What does he look like?” called another voice. Maura Kennealy had arrived, her daughter Deirdre in tow. For her part, she’d come as a wizard, being a Muggle herself. She had long emerald green robes on and a pointy hat to match. Deirdre had come as a warrior queen, complete with the shield of Connaught.

“Maura! Come help me study more!” screeched Ron-Hermione as he bounded around the garden to the amusement of all present.

“Naff off, Hermione,” she said.

“Charming,” said Real-Hermione.

“Aw, I don’t mean it. You look nice. Very Egyptian,” said Maura as she hugged her old friend.

“Well, actually, Cleopatra was mostly Greek. Her ancestor Ptolemy was an advisor to Alexander the Great...” she stopped herself. “Sorry. Ron’s right.”

“Ron is never right,” cracked Maura.

“I heard that!” Ron-Hermione called.

“You were meant to!” Maura shot back immediately. “You all right Hermione?”

“Yes. You?”

“Can’t complain. Not too much work to be done at the moment. Went to visit Narcissa. Jamie’s got dead big. Like that lion cub I just met. Speaking of...”

Maura pointed to where Sirius Black was watching over his son Jamie and godson Richard. Jamie, for his part, was dressed as a black dog.

“I think Sirius and Harry swapped notes on costumes, you know,” said Hermione with a grin.

“Oh Harree!” Ron-Hermione screeched again. Hermione growled.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“He didn’t exactly have an original idea, did he? All these Harrys and Hermiones? I’m very scared.”

“Thanks. Hi Maura,” said Harry, approaching with two glasses of pumpkin juice. He hugged his friend before handing her one of the glasses. “I think he’ll behave now. I threatened to deflate his breasts.”

“Oh bloody Hell!” said Hermione. “Look at that pumpkin.”

She pointed at one of the pumpkins floating above the tables. It had a wide smile and a scar in its ‘forehead’. Harry could only laugh.

“I’m going to have nightmares, you know,” he said. “I haven’t seen this many Harrys in one place since I got drunk and stumbled into a three-way mirror at Harrods.

“When were you drunk in Harrods?” Hermione demanded. Harry looked abashed.

“Never. It must’ve been a dream I had. About someone else.”

“Dinner time everyone!” called Molly Weasley over the din. Slowly, everyone filed to the tables to eat.

***

A number of hours later, the Potter family arrived back home through the fireplace. The children were immediately put to bed, but they were so tired that there were no complaints. Then Harry and Hermione readied themselves for bed.

“No!” Harry called as Hermione prepared to take off her Cleopatra costume. He grinned devilishly. “Keep it on.”

“You get worse, you know.”

“I try. Have a good night?”

“Once Ronald calmed down. I’m going to have words with that boy.”

“It was a joke, Hermione. Do you remember them?”

“Yes. But Deanna didn’t mercilessly take the mickey out of you did she?”

“Well there was one moment-”

“Oh be quiet. Just answer me one thing, Harry Potter. Did you find Ron as me remotely attractive?”

Harry hooted with laughter.

“Are you mad, woman? He looked like all blokes do when they dress up as girls. About as feminine as Hagrid.”

“Good,” Hermione sighed. “He was awfully funny, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. Speaking of, you didn’t think Deanna was...”

“No dear. Dragon hide looks much better on you.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Now, where would you like me, your Majesty?”

“Well, next year I want you to swear that we’ll get them back.”

“Done.”

“Right. Now, Mark Antony.......”

*