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Season of the Wolf	By : sarcastrow Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 862 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings

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Season of the Wolf

Chapter 4

Celibration

            Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan strode across the lawn from the house. Mrs. Finnigan had changed from her housework robes into a long set of deep blue. Her hair was down and flowed around her shouders in red grey waves. Mr. Finnigan was dressed in a fine Muggle three piece suit. Elric stepped forward and cast the Sonorus charm on his voice.

            "Ladies and gentlemen, we're here to celebrate twenty-five years of Frank and Margaret. So gather round and fill your glasses."

            Seamus led Lavender to the family table to join his mother and father. Mike sat next to Lavender, and Elric and Sheighly took the opposite chairs. Seamus produced a bottle from his robes.

            "When we were at the pub in Termonfeckin I picked up a little somethin' for Mam and Dad. They've had a soft spot for this since before I was born," he told Lavender. "Here you go, Dad," and he handed his father a thirty year old bottle of Balvenei Scotch Whisky.

            "Ah Seamus my lad, you're a good son," he said wiping a fake tear from his eye and smiling. "The devil invented Scotch whisky to make the Irish poor," he laughed. “Margaret, would you be so good as to summon a few glasses for this fine gift."

            A quick flick from Mrs. Finnigan's wand and seven glasses floated from the drink table to land in front of Mr. Finnigan. He poured a generous shot in each one, and passed them to his children, Elric, and Lavender. Mrs. Finnigan noticed Lavender looking a bit nervous.

            "Don't drink, Lavender?" she asked.

            "Hardly at all any more, but I'll share this one with you. I'd be impolite not to."

            "Don't like not being in control?" Mrs. Finnigan asked knowingly.

            "That's mostly it, yes. There're some other things too, but one won't hurt. Besides this is a thirty year old Scotch," she said, smiling.

            Elric raised his glass. "To Franklin and Margaret - they've raised two fine young men and the best woman I've ever known. I'm proud to have them as me in-laws. Twenty-five years ago they took the bonds, and in all that time they've been true and honest and in love. We should all be so fortunate. I know I am. May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door. To Franklin and Margaret"

            "Franklin and Margaret," the crowd echoed.

            "Thank you. Thank you all for coming and helping us to celebrate our happiness," Mr. Finnigan said to the assembled guests. This will be the last speech of the day and then we'll eat and dance." He helped Mrs. Finnigan to her feet. "Margaret Mcnearney, twenty-five years ago you made me dreams come true, even if I didn' know the whole of them at the time." A chuckle went through the crowd. "Findin' that your wife is a witch on your wedding night is a bit of a surprise, but I've never had cause to doubt my love for you or yours for me. To twenty-five more my love," He said and drained his glass.

            "Twenty-five more," the crowd echoed and broke into applause.

            The pots Mrs. Finnigan had brought to the table contained a hearty Irish stew in one, bubble and squeak in another, and a corned beef hash that was the best Lavender had ever tasted in the third. Several of the relatives had brought desserts, and Sheighly surprise her parents with a large cake in the shape of number twenty-five.

            After the dinner and several more rounds of toasts, the dancing began. Mike had set up his Muggle stereo set in the tent and happily assumed the role of D.J. A dance floor had been conjured into existence by Sheighly, and her husband had charmed the balloons to pulse with light to the music. Mike chose a series of slower dance numbers to start the evening, and when the second song started Seamus took Lavender's hand.

            "Haven't got to dance with you since the ball, I'm lots better now," he said.

            "You were quite good then, Shay," she said rising from her seat. "I'm a bit out of practice though."

            "Well we'll just have to do it till we get it right then." He laughed, and swung her out onto the floor.

            She fit against him. He just couldn't get over how good it felt to have Lavender in his arms. They flowed around the tent as the music lilted through the air, and Seamus felt the tension he'd been holding onto drain away. His mother had been much more accepting of him since she and Lavender had talked, and that had lifted a weight from him that he hadn't realized was there. He unconsciously hugged her.

            "What?" she asked.

            "Oh, nothing - just glad you're here. It's been one of the best days for me in a while, and that's all because of you. Thanks," he said, and she smiled up at him. "Got me job cut out for me at Christmas, haven't I?"

            "Yeah, but I think a hero from the Battle of Hogwarts won't have any trouble dealing with my family," she said with a giggle.



            Several dances later, Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan appeared at their side. "Trade partners son?" Mr. Finnigan asked.

            Lavender nodded to Seamus. "Alright, Dad," Seamus said, and deftly handed Lavender off to his father while his mother slid over to him.

            Mrs. Finnigan smiled at her son. "Glad to see the dance lessons weren't a waste. I been watching, you do me proud, Seamus."

            "Thanks, Mam," he said with a genuine smile for his mother.

"You and the girl, you're thinking serious?" she asked as they danced.

            "Don't rightly know, Mam," he said honestly. "We've been friends for so long, I really don't wanna bollox that up, but Lav, she's different now. I mean she's the same girl, same ways, mostly, but she's … deeper. I'm not making sense."

            "Oh, but you are, son. You are," she said. "I'll not be telling you how to live your life from here on out. You proved you earned that, but I will have an opinion, and I have one on this." She stopped speaking, and they danced for a bit.

            "So are you gonna tell me?" he asked.

"Only if you want me to, son," she said wisely. "That's what you've earned."

"I want to know, Mam," he said and hugged her.

She smiled at him. "You'll always be me baby, but there comes a time when a mother must hand off her child to his mate. I'd be happy to hand you off to Lavender. She's strong, tough, and yet she's gentle with you and yours. She stood up to me and held her ground; that's no small feat. And she does care for you, a blind man could see that." Her gazed turned stern. "So don't be trifling with her affections. She's not one o' these girls you been with recently. You been treatin' them as disposable I hear, and that disappoints me."

"That's over, Mam, and I'd never do that to Lavender." His voice became husky. "Never, and I'd kill anyone who did."

"I believe you would, Son, although I think if someone did that to her there'd be too few pieces left to kill."

Seamus laughed. "True enough, Mam. I'd never make it in time. The Sisters'd make a grease stain out of anyone stupid enough to try."

"That'd be her group of friends? The ones that helped her overcome the wolf?" she asked.

"Yes, Mam, but I can't really say any more about them. I promised," he said.

"It's good you keep your word then.”

They danced in silence for a bit.

            "Mam?"

            "Yes, Seamus."

            "How did you know? With Angus, and dad, how did you know this person was the one?" He was gazing at Lavender across the dance floor.

            Mrs. Finnigan laughed. "Ask yourself a few questions. Would you bring her home to meet your parents?"

            "Well, we answered that one already," he said chuckling.

            "Can you be with her, just together and not talking and be happy?"

            "Yeah," — he smiled at the memory — "just this afternoon in fact."

            "Can you see yourself in Frank and my place twenty-five years or more from now?"

            "Yes, Mam, I really can."

            "You wouldn't be thinking you could do better?" she asked very seriously.

            Seamus barked out a laugh. "Hardly, she's astonishing, Mam. She's clever, and artistic, and fun." He paused. "And in case you hadn't noticed, she's beautiful."

            "Her condition don't matter to you then?"

            "Not at all, Mam. You?" he asked.

            "No, son, no, It's the woman that counts, not some passing monthly problem," she said and laughed.

            "Thanks, Mam," Seamus said as the music stopped, and he hugged her.

            "You're welcome, son." She kissed his cheek.

            Lavender and Mr. Finnigan came up to them, and Lavender hooked her arm in Seamus's. "I could use a drink," she said.

            Seamus nodded. "Let's get some punch and I'll show you the garden," he said, and led her to the table with the large animated punch bowl. The carved crystal bowl featured a fantasy castle in the center. Two waterfalls of punch cascaded down the sides of the castle, and three crystal mermaids and a crystal sea serpent frolicked in the bowl.

            "Nice," Lavender commented, tilting her head toward the punch bowl.

            "Me grandmother's," Seamus said. "She'd never let us near it when we were kids. Afraid we'd play with the figures." He laughed. "We did anyway. Here, watch this."

            He handed a cup to the sea serpent. It took the handle of the cup in its mouth and swam to one of the punch water falls, filled the cup, and swam back to Seamus. He took the cup and handed it to Lavender.

            She giggled. "Oh that's so cute. I can see where it'd be too tempting to resist."

            "Yeah," he said handing the three mermaids a cup. "We were careful though. Me Mam comes by her temper honestly. Gran was not to be fooled with." The mermaids swam back to him with a full cup. Seamus took the cup and raised it. "Well, as we say here in Ireland, Sláinte!"
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Season of the Wolf