Unofficial Portkey Archive

27. Old friends

Note: So, uh… I changed my mind about the chronology a few weeks ago. Imagine that everything has been pushed back by a few years i.e. that we are now in year 2001. Yes, I know, it's weird, not to mention confusing, but it should make more sense when I rewrite this story and make it all stick. I apologize profusely.

May 2001.

Clervaux, Luxembourg.

Shehzin stared nervously at Izha, whom she could barely see from all the steam in the room. Ginny had disappeared beneath the foam of the pool a minute or more ago, and Shehzin, having earlier admitted her distrust of water, began fidgeting.

"Don't you think she-ah!" she squealed when two hands grabbed her ankles and, tipping her over, pushed her underwater.

A few seconds later, Shehzin and Ginny's faces emerged from the soap bubbles, the latter one bright and smiling, the former clearly disgruntled. Shehzin dejectedly pulled out the ties that kept her now drenched hair in place, and wiped her face.

"I wasn't going to get my hair wet," she groaned, glaring at Ginny.

"I know," she retorted, "so I decided to take care of it for you. Relax. Enjoy. At least try to look happy when you're spending outrageous amounts of your husband's money."

"You shouldn't do that, you know."

"What, spend Draco's money?"

"He seemed happy enough about it," Izha pointed out.

"No, I mean go under like that for such a long time. It's not… natural… And it can't be good for the babies, either."

Ginny rolled her eyes and swam over to the side of the pool, along which Izha was peacefully resting.

"Don't do this, you'll hurt the babies," she parroted. "Ginevra, think of your sons, stop running around, Ginevra, the boys-Izha, honestly, am I doing anything wrong?"

"Not that I can think of," Izha said, smiling benevolently.

"There," Ginny said, and stuck out her tongue at Shehzin, who interrupted her laborious breast-stroke to throw water at the redhead. "Besides, I deserve it."

"Oh you do, do you?" Shehzin smirked.

Ginny, her elbows resting on the pool's rim, nodded emphatically.

"Do you realize that I did not have a single evening to myself this past week? There were dinners, galas, inaugurations, cocktails, and Merlin knows what else with Draco's business partners and bloody entourage and he insisted that I come with him everywhere!"

"You could have refused," Shehzin said, letting her head roll back and closing her eyes as her feet gently stirred the water around her.

"No, he said he really wanted me to be there."

"If I recall correctly," Izha interrupted, "he said he needed you there."

"Same thing," Ginny said, although her blush indicated just how tactfully he had convinced her that he indeed needed her by his side.

"Hmm," Shehzin hummed, not even bothering to dignify that with a proper answer. "So you got half of the week off, and Izha too?"

"And you as well, apparently," Ginny said, "although why Blaise would actually want you to hang out with us, I wonder."

"Hmm," she said again, then, without preamble, added, "I'm starved. Do you want to go get lunch?"

Izha shot her an intrigued look which neither woman caught.

"Sure. Let's," Izha acquiesced and, pushing on her arms, she hoisted herself out of the water.

Ginny inelegantly paddled toward the ladder, shortly followed by Shehzin. Izha followed their progress, barely dissimulating a smile when Shehzin climbed the ladder as awkwardly and gingerly as Ginny had, although her waist showed no sign of pregnancy. Immediately, fluffy towels floated toward the three women, wrapping around them and suffusing their bodies with gentle warmth. Ginny shook her head, sending droplets of water about, and Shehzin slapped her arm, threatening to drop her towel in the process. Izha laughed softly.

"So, did you and Draco start thinking about names for-" Izha began.

"Ze Babees?" Ginny asked, making a dramatic gesture. "No, we didn't. I knew I was forgetting something before I left."

"Do you have any ideas? Names you would like?" Izha urged her on.

They walked out of the pool-room after having slipped on sandals, going past the hammam and inside garden, until they found themselves in the entrance hall of the spa. Wide and circular, with a ceiling that naturally seemed to give way to tree-tops and an immaculate blue sky, the white-marble atrium breathed of purity and good health. Ginny could definitely imagine coming once a month for a week-end of self-indulgence and relaxation, although knowing the woman, she would probably find an even calmer clinic in Swtizerland or Monaco-which made her wonder why Draco had offered her a stay in that particular spa because although she was having an amazing time, she couldn't imagine her husband doing anything without a specific idea in mind.

"Uh… No, I don't know. I mean, Hermione took both Harry and Arthur, which would have been my first choices. Besides, I doubt Draco would like that," she added seriously but not darkly.

"What about you, Shehz?"

"We decided on Suleiman (1), after my great-grandfather," Shehzin answered mechanically, then stopped and stared, open-mouthed, at Izha.

"Did you-?" she began, and the look on Izha's face told her everything she needed to know.

"Merlin's beard!" Ginny said, wheeling around to stare at Shehzin. "You're pregnant?"

And as Shehzin's reaction to Izha's question was revealing enough, Ginny did not even wait for her friend's answer to throw her arms around her-bumping both their occupied bellies against each other-and laughed wildly.

"We're pregnant, we're pregnant!" she sang, happy and relieved that she would have another friend to share the joys and difficulties of being mother.

Izha stared at them, imperturbable, unaffected as always by others' spurts of agitation and childishness. She was surprised when a couple and their child, watching her friends giggling in delight, stopped in their tracks.

"Blimey, is that-Ginny?" the woman asked.

Ginny let go of Shehzin, who stepped back, having grown accustomed to random people walking up to her friend and asking her whether she remembered them-an event whose frequency had noticeably increased when Draco, harrowed by his wife, had dismissed her two body-guards. But whereas the young woman usually did not acknowledge her would-be acquaintances, this time her mouth dropped open and her lips quivered, as though she were hesitating between a smile and tears, a dilemma made obvious by the sudden shimmer in her eyes.

"Remus? Tonks?" she whispered disbelievingly.

"Well, actually… It's back to Nymphadora," Tonks admitted sheepishly, pointing to her short, but dark brown, hair. "Respectability, motherhood, and all that," she added, grinning.

"Come now, you know you love it," Remus teased her, and there was a tender fire in him that Ginny barely glimpsed on the day of their wedding and that, she assumed, had been emboldened by years of marriage.

`We'll see you in the dining room," Izha said, discreetly pushing Shehzin in that direction.

"I'm not done with you yet," Ginny said, waggling a finger at Shehzin, although her mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Yes, but neither are they with you," Shehzin replied, smirking, and left Ginny with her old friends.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds, and then Tonks walked over to Ginny and hugged her fiercely.

"It's so good to see you," she said, and Remus nodded, and hugged Ginny as well, although he remained, as always, a bit gauche and shy. The roundness that interposed itself between them didn't make it any easier.

"And who may that be?" Ginny asked, smiling at the little boy sitting calmly in his stroller, eyes bright with a mischief that was inherently his mother's. (2)

A little boy whose impressive mass of shaggy hair was electric blue.

"This is Faolan (3)," Tonks said, squatting to look at her son, clearly completely under his charm. "Say hello, sweetums."

The tips of Faolan's hair slowly turned pink, then regained their original-if, perhaps, not natural-blue color.

"He doesn't say much, yet," Remus said apologetically. "But I think he likes you, because his hair usually turns green when he isn't happy."

"Incredible," Ginny murmured, and carefully kneeled before either Tonks or Remus could stop her. "Hello, Faolan," she said very seriously. "I'm Ginny. I'm a friend of your mum and dad, and I am really, really happy to meet you."

The little boy then smiled tranquilly, and Ginny had no trouble recognizing Remus' serene smile in the child's younger features. She looked up to see both Lupins casting her a curious look, filled with an odd mixture of weariness and care.

"So, Ginny, how have you been?" Remus asked at last.

"I've been well," Ginny said, and knew she believed it to be true.

"'That the work of my cousin?" Tonks asked, nodding to the rounded belly.

"Yes. They're twin boys."

"Congratulations," Remus said, if a bit sternly. "We heard about your, ah-identity a few weeks ago. Needless to say, we were surprised."

"But then we asked Hermione and she explained everything," Tonks went on, increasingly animated. "That was wicked of you to do that!"

"And by wicked she means reckless, pure folly, madn-"

"I know," Ginny interrupted him, absently thinking that she should be offended by Remus' scolding tone and yet sufficiently at peace with herself to not take offense. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"But Hermione said Draco-" Remus added, lowering his voice, suddenly thick with anger and menace.

"Remus," Ginny stopped him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm well. It's all settled. And… I'm with Draco now. For better or for worse," she added with a shrug and a smile, "but willingly so."

She had never before phrased it as such, even to herself, but the moment she said it she knew it to be true true. She had managed to fall for Draco, intermittently, when she could forget who he had once been; the conviction she could do it again and be happy with the man Draco Malfoy had become firmly established itself in her mind.

"Ah, well, there's no point in trying to discuss this now," Tonks pointed out, and a quick glance about them revealed, as expected, the spa's rather eminent clientele-a group of wizards amongst which one would not wish to cause scandal, much less share a secret.

"You're absolutely right, love," Remus said, tenderly wrapping his arm around his wife. "Until when are you here?"

"We're leaving in two days."

"Speaking of we-" Remus began, just as Tonks exclaimed, "Great! We just got here, so we'll see you a little bit."

"Sounds great," Ginny said, beaming. She was truly delighted to find them here, along with their adorable little boy. "My friends are probably waiting for me, but hopefully I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Remus said, and Ginny had the feeling she was in for a long and harrowing discussion, but the pleasure of their company would be well worth it. "How does dinner sound?"

"Amazing."

"And bring your friends, too," Tonks added, earning herself an inscrutable look from Remus.

"I don't think-"

"Don't be silly, it'll be great. They seem very nice, don't they?" she asked Faolan, who nodded vigorously as his hair turned a faintish pink. "Please, Remus?"

The look on Tonks' face was so overwhelmingly cute that it begged for anyone to indulge her, and Ginny saw that Remus, despite the years spent in his wife's company, fell for it immediately, not even noticing how she had subtly increased the size of her eyes, length of her lashes, and roundness of her lips to create herself an almost baby-ish face. It warmed Ginny's heart. She just had to fight the urge to laugh.

"Sure, yes, if you want," he relented, and Tonks threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips.

Ginny saw little Faolan staring wide-eyed at his parents with a disgusted look on his face, his hair smoothly going from blue to green. She kneeled by him and ruffled his hair; that immediately disrupting its color-change, and within seconds both Ginny and Faolan were grinning widely. She coughed.

"Well then. I'll be going, and see you tonight?" Ginny said.

"Shall we say nine? It's a little after Faolan's bedtime," Remus suggested.

"Perfect. See you tonight," Ginny said, and quickly headed for the dining room; she was starving.

When it was warm enough, as was the case on this particular day, guests could have dinner on the terrace, a wide, half-disk of marble seemingly grown straight from the ravine's façade. Chairs and tables of fine wood, polished and encrusted with shards of semi-precious stones, allowed for lunch to be taken above the canopy, suspended between forest and sky. The torturous valley shone green and grey under midday's relentless sun, and from the little village of Clervaux came the sound of the church bells, signaling noon.

"Right on time," Izha said without lifting her nose from the wine list when Ginny arrived at the table where she and Shehzin sat, looking down on the breath-taking view. "Mmh…That Chardonnay looks delicious."

"Really?" Shehzin asked. "I was thinking of ordering a Sauvigny."

"Oh, you won't be ordering anything from that list," Izha said, her eyes still glued to the menu.

"It's not good for the baby," Ginny dutifully repeated to a stupefied Shehzin. "Alcohol apparently can cause malformations or something. At least that's what Muggle science says."

"Why would you know Muggle science, Izha?" Shehzin enquired good-naturedly.

"It's a long story," Izha retorted, snapped the wine-list shut, and looked up, smiling. "So. Suleiman, is it?"

Shehzin nodded, beaming.

"Blaise agreed immediately. We're hoping it'll mollify my family, and he said he really didn't care what his mother had to say about how it's an improper name for a British wizard."

"And mind you, she will say it, and many more horrendously vicious things," Ginny said. "Then again, after calling her children Blaise and Serafina, I feel like she really shouldn't be allowed to comment."

"I happen to like Blaise," Shehzin interrupted.

"Maybe that's why you're married to him," Ginny said sweetly, and Shehzin made a face.

"And don't you forget it," Blaise's unmistakable voice whispered into her ear.

Shehzin, startled, turned around abruptly, surprised to find her husband clad in a white shirt and linen pants that admirably complemented his ebony skin, a conspiratorial smile on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here," Ginny said pleasantly. Instinctively, she looked around.

"He isn't here, gorgeous," Blaise said as he took a seat between Izha and Shehzin, not even bothering to dodge the light punch the latter subsequently directed at him. "Contrary to popular belief, Draco and I are not joined at the hip."

"Could have fooled me," Ginny said, acknowledging with a laugh his having caught her red-handed.

"Then again, you should know that the only person Blaise is not keen on letting out of his sight is Shehzin," Izha pointed out. "Although we might have to add Suleiman to that list soon."

"You told them?" Blaise asked, nothing but his raised eyebrow indicating that he was surprised.

"Izha guessed," Shehzin admitted.

"Midwives tend to have a knack for these things." Izha shrugged when Blaise shot her an inquisitive look.

"What do you think of the name?" Blaise asked immediately.

"What do I-?"

"What do you see for our son, should he bear that name?"

"Would you like me to look?" Izha asked, peering meaningfully in his eyes, while Shehzin and Ginny exchanged puzzled glances.

"What do you mean, `look'?" Ginny asked, not liking the turn the conversation was taking.

"Wizarding midwives are particularly good at sensing the destiny of a child in its mother's womb," Blaise explained. "Are you capable of doing that?"

A fleeting shadow crossed Izha's face.

"Yes, I am… powerful… enough to sense what awaits your son." When Shehzin shot Blaise a worried look, unacquainted with the nearly predatory curiosity she saw on his face, Izha added, "But I will only tell you that the name fits him. Teach him well, and he will be wise, and strong. Do not rush him, for his quietude will be unlike either of your energy and determination, but allow him to delve too deep and he will fall prey to the fascinating meanders of the wizard mind."

"Balance, as always," Ginny murmured, surprised by the revelation of Izha's gift-if it could be called such.

"Yes, balance," Izha said, taking her eyes away from Blaise's and sharing a look of understanding with Ginny. "Disrupt it, and you set the stage for wounds that are hard to mend."

"The British approach to magic is just too cryptic for me," Shehzin said, shaking her head as if to chase away her thoughts and the odd mood that had settled about them.

"I used to think so, too," Blaise acknowledged. "And then I met Draco, and realized I had no idea just what a bloody, twisted mess it actually is. Luckily, he can play those games well enough for two, so that I find myself able to enjoy lunch with both my wife and his while he meets with the head of the state."

"He's having lunch with Padma?" Ginny managed to blurt out, choking on her water. The thought of Draco enjoying the elegant witch's company did not please her in the very least, and the fact that she could not dismiss the woman as just another mindless tart made it all the more difficult for her to quell the spark of unease sparked by Blaise's words.

"Well, yes," Blaise said, eyeing the champagne in the flute he twirled between his fingers. "At the Wheel of Kent (4), I believe."

Ginny did not appear reassured by that fact-the Wheel of Kent was renowned for the wealth and political power of its guests, and being taken there was the insigne privilege of those who lead the country; not a single law hadn't been discussed there, not a single coup d'etat passed by unmentioned, not a single political campaign lead without a dinner there. Regardless, the thought of Draco and Padma, together, at a table…

Shehzin, noticing Ginny's discomfort and knowing Blaise enough to understand that there was more to this than he was willing to let on, discreetly but sharply elbowed him. He winced and, seeing that his winsome smile was incapable of appeasing her, he relented.

"Telemacchus Clearwater, Andrew Johnson, Gabriel Corner, and Theodore Nott were with them, I believe," he added, catching the look of relief on Ginny's face and relishing the smile it brought to his wife's lips.

"Oh, politics," Izha said softly, waving a dismissive hand, which was taken by the waiter as a cue that they were ready to order, so they did.

"You know," Izha said all of a sudden, "if you don't want to go for the name of a constellation" Ginny snickered and shook her head vehemently "anything Roman should do. Right, Blaise?"

"Hmm?" was all he could muster, so absorbed was he in twining his fingers with Shehzin's delicate ones.

"Names. For Ginevra and Draco's children. Something Roman."

"Oh sure, yes. Something having to do with gods. Like Bacchus and Vulcan (5), for example," Blaise added innocently.

"Beyond the fact that I would never name my sons after these gods, it's a bit pompous to go for godly names, don't you think?"

"And Draco doesn't like what's pompous at all," Shehzin pointed out, her tone indicating that she was being sarcastic.

"No," Ginny said. "He likes what's elegant and expensive without being ostentatious."

"What about emperors?" Izha suggested.

"Caesar and Marc Anthony. Then we can name our next little one Cleo, and see how that goes," Blaise said, grinning diabolically.

"Next one?" Shehzin asked, shooting him a menacing glance. "Let's stay focused, please, unless you fancy yourself bearing the next one."

With an unconcerned grin, Blaise backed down, certain that Shehzin would follow up with her threat, should a spell or potion permit it.

"Think about it, though. Titus, Aemilius… They have nice sonorities," Shehzin said.

"Perhaps," Ginny answered, although she clearly did not appear convinced, "but it sounds too… Classic…" What she meant is that she would not give her children a name sounding even remotely like Lucius. "I guess Draco and I will have to discuss it," she said at last, hoping that this would close the conversation. It was, after all, their decision to make-not one to be discussed at lunch without the father of the primary concerned.

"So, what have you ladies been up to?" Blaise asked, capable of taking the hint when it was necessary.

"Very little," Izha said.

"As can be expected in such a place," Shehzin pointed out, toying with the cherry of her virgin strawberry daiquiri. "We just ran into old friends of Ginevra's as well. What a cute little boy they had!"

"Is that so?" Blaise said, and his nonchalance was anything but unfeigned.

"Yes," Ginny said, staring him down with a tranquil smile and a steely look. "Remus and Ton-Nymphadora Lupin. I don't know if you remember them. They had to, ah-leave the country for various reasons after the end of the war."

Blaise knew better than to pursue the topic, being well enough acquainted with the Laws of Blood Purity and both Lupins' genealogy to know the reason for their departure.

***

London.

"You knew they were going to be there, you bastard," Blaise Zabini said lazily as soon as he had walked past the threshold of Draco's study.

"Who?" Draco asked, throwing one last look to the data he was reviewing before removing his glasses and peering up at his friend.

"You're wearing glasses now?" Blaise smirked. "Looks good on you. Very dignified."

"Spare me the compliments, Blaise," Draco said. "They help me find the relevant information for this case. So who did I know would be `there'?" (6)

"Lupin. And his wife. That's why you explicitly asked your secretary to send them to a spa in the middle of nowhere rather than to the one your mother prefers."

Draco did not say a word, but his lips stretched slightly, enough to convey self-satisfaction.

"Are you out of your mind?" Blaise went on, perfectly calm. "You're setting yourself up for trouble and you know it. They're having dinner together, tonight, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't, but I expected as much."

"So after hunting her down and threatening to kill anyone who helped her plot against you-"

"I didn't-"

"Please," Blaise snapped. "We both know how convincingly you can menace anyone except your mother and myself, and I saw Longbottom's face a few hours after you visited him. I don't think you two were discussing Snape's teaching methods."

"Your point?"

"What gives you the right to scare the hell out of your wife's friends and boyfriends-"

"Ex boyfriends."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, unwilling to waste the time calling his best friend petty when he had another point to drive across.

"Right. You have no right to intimidate them like only you can, and then throw Ginevra back in their arms. It's called looking for thrills. Cheap ones, at that. You'll be dead in two weeks if you allow her to see them."

Draco leaned back and started playing with his paper-cutter, the ghost of a mirthless smile on his lips.

"Did you know she's my cousin?" he asked, out of nowhere.

"Who, Lupin's girl? The one with a weird name? I may have heard something like that, yes, but how's that-"

"Aunt Bella had her mother killed a few weeks into the war."

"She-what? Her sister?"

Draco nodded gravely.

"I take back what I said. I give you a week before we're all invited to your funeral. What the hel-"

"I want to make it up to her," Draco said, slamming the paper cutter on the desk and getting up in one swift motion. "I don't know how to do that yet, but if she becomes friends with Ginevra, I might learn of something she needs, or wants. And I can give it to her." He paced restlessly across the room. "Reparation is but a bitter compensation, but it's something I can do for Nymphadora and her family, and it's something I will do."

"But-"

"Besides, you know how much Gin values family?"

"So it's Gin, now, eh?" Blaise asked cheekily.

Draco glared but did not respond.

"I'm giving her a family. It won't make up for the one she lost, but-"

For the first time in a very long time, Blaise saw Draco at a loss for words. However, as he wasn't one to keep his tongue in check, he carried on.

"So you're providing her with a family that conveniently happens to be your own? First Leo, then Izha, and now Lupin's girlfriend…"

"She's his wife now, and I had nothing to do with Leo. She's also good friends with Shehzin, so-"

"Draco, you consider me family?" Blaise asked, surprised, though he managed to dissimulate it behind mockery. "I'm flattered. Is this where you admit I'm the brother you never had?"

"I like to think of you as more of a partner in crime… Or a friend of convenience," Draco said, although his grin and the sparkle in his eyes belied the cynicism of his words.

"Heartless bastard."

"That's twice you've called me a bastard in less than five minutes, Blaise," Draco warned him casually. "I wouldn't do it a third time."

Blaise nodded.

"Speaking of brothers," he said, changing topics. "Ginevra won't hear of naming your children after stars."

"Yes, I know. Needless to say, Mother isn't very pleased about that."

"Izha suggested Roman emperors. Granted it's not as stellar as the appellations that run in your family, but there's potential there. You could always ask Izha what she feels about some names and how they fit your sons." Blaise felt an odd shudder course through him. "She has the power to see that."

"I know," Draco said, and instinct made him cast his eyes to the wooden panel behind which rested the Pensieve. "But I've grown weary of such power."

"It's just midwife magic. There's nothing to it."

"In magic, Blaise, there is the magic, and there is the wizard behind it. That is something our parents and peers would have done well to remember."

(1)Suleiman: of Arabic meaning, this name means "peace"; there were a few Turkish sultans who bore that name (amongst which Suleiman the Magnificent, I believe)

(2) For whoever's interested in lame art, there will be a link to a family picture on Artistic Alley: http://www.artisticalley.org/gallery/showgallery.php?cat=500&ppuser=93822

(3)Faolan: of Irish and Gaelic origin, this name means "little wolf"

(4)In Shakespeare's King Lear, Kent is one of the few who remain loyal to old King Lear. There is a point in which he reflects on the wheel of fortune and how quickly one can go from top to bottom, and the other way around. Loyalty, betrayal, and rapid changes seem to me very emblematic of political life, and so I felt this would be an ideal place to have business meetings-particularly when they are related to politics.

(5)Bacchus was the Roman god of wine and drunkenness, while Vulcan, god of the forge and metalwork, was a hideous, deformed being-crafty, but ugly beyond measure

(6)The idea of these glasses is taken from "Sea of Walking Dreams", by Cinnamon. Read it if you can, it's a phenomenal D/G story!

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