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I Believed in Father Christmas	By : sarcastrow Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1699 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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I Believed in Father Christmas

Chapter 6

The Peal of a Bell and that Christmas Tree Smell

Rowan Brown pulled the sheet up over Janice Long’s waist, and she snuggled into his side. They were lying naked on the bed in her flat. Her hand came up into his field of vision as she admired the new ring on her finger. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

*

Seamus and Lavender arrived back at her house with the still steaming bag. Lavender opened the door and headed straight to the back of the house. “I’ve got your chestnuts here, Mum,” she said as she entered the kitchen. Her parents broke apart; she had obviously walked in on a moment just like she and Seamus had shared a few minutes earlier. Her mother tried to cover her embarrassment by pushing her hair back out of her face and making an excuse about how hot it was in the kitchen. That only made it funnier to Lavender.

“Don’t even try, Mum,” Lavender said with a laugh. “Seamus told me it’d be like this for at least a while.” She hugged them both. “Don’t stop on my account.” She left the kitchen sniggering.

In the sitting room Seamus lit the fire in the grate and added a few pieces of coal from the scuttle. Lavender wandered into the room, came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. “I caught them snogging again.” He could feel her laughing.

“That’ll be a fairly frequent occurrence I should think,” he said as he turned in her arms to face her. “One of the things that Mam told me would happen.”

Lavender nodded. “Yeah, I heard you telling Artie, Jaz, and Rowan last night. Part of the effects of the potion then?”

“Aye, Mam said me granddad was… how did she put it… oh yeah, frisky after Grandma gave him the flask.”

“She gave it to you, your mum?”

“Aye, I told her what was afoot, and how I had to do something. She told me the story of me granddad and how me grandma… fixed him. She’d been keeping the flask safe since they passed, and after we talked she said she finally knew why. When she gave me the flask and told me about the ritual I knew what I had to do.”

“She knew what you were planning?” Lavender said with a raised eyebrow.

“No, no one did.” He hugged her tighter. “Listen, Lavender, I hoped that I wouldn’t have had to do what I did, but from talking with you and Parvati I had an idea that was a foolish hope. So I arranged everything, went to Glamis and prepared the dungeon, made sure I knew the ritual,” – he hugged her tighter – “prepared meself to lose you, everything.”

She hugged him back. “You’d have to do more than cure my father of his alcoholism to lose me, Seamus Finnigan.” And she kissed him tenderly.

“Alright, break it up,” Artemisia said as she entered the room. “I expected you to be in the kitchen with Mum, Lav.”

“When Mum and Dad finish snogging I will be,” she told her startled sister.

“Eeewww!” the older woman said. “I don’t want to hear that.”

Seamus and Lavender burst into laughter. “Aye, Artemisia,” Seamus said when he recovered. “You’ll have to get used to it. Like I said your parents are going to be a lot more affectionate.”

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically.

“Hello all,” Rowan said as he too entered the sitting room. “Artie, you remember Janice?”

“Of course. It’s been a few months.” The older woman took Janice’s hand. “How have you been?”

“Same as everyone, really,” Janice replied. “Working, making ends meet, dating your brother.”

“I see,” Artemisia said with a sharp look for Rowan. “And not everyone’s dating our brother.”

Rowan smirked at her. “Janice, this is Seamus Finnigan, the man I told you about, and you remember Lavender of course.”

“Good to meet you, Janice,” Seamus said. “Rowan mentioned you last night; well, more than mentioned really. He was fair true, you are a beauty.”

Lavender swatted his arm. “He’s quite full of himself just now, Janice. Good to see you again.” She hugged Janice and stifled a laugh. Her brother and his girlfriend smelled of sex. They’d showered but Lavender could still tell. She smiled. “I’m thinking we’ll be seeing more of you. Am I right?”

Janice blushed and snuggled into Rowan. “Yes, I think so.”

“I guess Jaz and I are the odd ones out this year,” Artemisia said in pretend hurt. “Both of us are single at the moment.”

Seamus looked at her, puzzled. “I’d think you’d have the lads queuing up for you.”

“She does,” Lavender said, and Seamus could tell there was a great deal behind that statement.

“That’s as may be, but none of them are the Right man,” the dark haired witch replied.

Lavender looked at her sister. “Decided to get a bit pickier?” she said, with a raised eyebrow.

“Taking a page from your book, baby sister,” Artemisia replied with a nod.

Lavender hugged Seamus to her side. “Taken.”

Artemisia silently laughed.

“Janice!” Jasmine cried as she entered the room. “You’re here. Rowan didn’t tell us.”

“Well, Rowan didn’t invite me until this morning,” Janice said.

“Yeah,” Rowan said. “A lot of things have changed this morning.” He turned to the woman at his side. “I asked Janice to marry me,” he said, looking deep into her eyes.

“I said yes,” Janice said, and kissed him.

The Brown women burst into squeals of delight. Seamus grabbed Rowan’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Well done, Rowan. I had a feeling when we talked last night that you had come to an important decision. This was it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Seamus,” he said and leaned into Seamus’ ear. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“What was all the commotion?” Mr. Brown said from the door to the kitchen. “Oh, hello, Janice.”

“Happy Christmas, Nat,” she replied.

“Rowan didn’t tell us you were coming,” Mr. Brown said.

That was about an hour ago, Lavender thought, giggling to herself and drawing a puzzled look from Seamus.

“Didn’t know she was until this morning, Dad,” Rowan told him.

Jasmine couldn’t keep it in any longer. “They’re getting married!” she nearly shouted.

“What was that?” Mrs. Brown’s voice yelled from the kitchen, and then she appeared in the door behind her husband.

Rowan stepped forward, and took Janice’s hand. He raised it and showed his parents the ring. “I asked Janice to be my wife this morning.” His mother’s eyes immediately filled with happy tears. “You up for a June wedding?”

Mrs. Brown pushed past her husband to hug her future daughter in-law. “I am so happy for you both,” she said, whispering in the girl’s ear. “Rowan has been in love with you since the day you met.”

The Brown women, present and future, dissolved into a gaggle of questions and plans, then they moved as a mob into the kitchen leaving Mr. Brown, Rowan, and Seamus standing bemused in the sitting room.

“Well, this would call for a toast, it would,” Seamus said, and he summoned the bottle with “Scotch Whisky” etched on its side from Rowan’s room. “This’ll be your draw for the day, Nat?” he asked.

“Happily, Seamus,” the older man said, and patted his back. Seamus poured a toast for Rowan and himself, while Mr. Brown summoned the flask from his room.

The young Irishman handed a glass to Rowan, and then raised his own. “To Rowan and Janice, Sliocht sleachta ar shliocht bhur sleachta,” he said, and drained his glass.

“Here, here, to whatever it was you just said.” Mr. Brown laughed, and took a long draw from his flask.

“Thank you, Seamus,” Rowan said and drained his glass. “I want my friend, Mark, as my best man, but he might need help dealing with the magical side of things, you know, helping keep my other Muggle friends from finding out about your world. Would you mind helping him with that?”

Seamus looked at Rowan. “I would consider it a great honor, Rowan, a great honor indeed. Your friend, Mark, he knows of your magical family then?”

“Yes, a bit. He’s been around since we were kids.”

Seamus raised an eyebrow. “He’s got your Muggle exemption?”

“Yeah, about the time we were seven Mum went to the ministry and filed the paperwork.” Rowan chuckled. “Ten years later she had to do it again for Janice.”

“Aye, it’s good the Ministry grants those to families with Muggle children. Be a ruddy pain if you couldn’t talk about all this with at least one friend,” Seamus said. “Have him get hold of me and I’ll help with anything he needs.”

“I’ll be sure and do that,” Rowan said. “The women are in the midst of planning the hen party and the wedding by now.”

And indeed they were.

“So how much does your family know about us?” Lavender asked as she simultaneously summoned a roasting tin from a cupboard and potatoes from the bin.

“A little,” Janice said tentatively. “They know that there’s a magical world and you’re part of it, but I’ve made it sound very new age. They don’t know what really goes on, and I haven’t told them any of what you went through the last few years. It would have terrified them; it scared the hell out of me.” She stroked her hand down Lavender’s back. “Rowan has told me everything, Lavender. What you and Seamus and all your friends did, I still have a bit of trouble understanding it all, but I think you’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s all bow and scrape to the bloody hero,” Jasmine said snidely.

Lavender smiled at her sister. “Kiss my arse,” she laughed.

“Language, girls!” Mrs. Brown snapped, and the women broke into fits of laughter.

“Thanks, Janice, really,” Lavender said when she recovered. “But the real heroes are buried in the cemetery of the fallen at Hogwarts.” She laid her hand on Janice’s. “Maybe one day I’ll take you there and show you. Chances are, if you and Rowan have children there will be magic among them.”

“Rowan’s a Muggle, but he still carries the genes,” Artemisia said at Janice’s puzzled look. “The odds are one in two.” When Janice’s look turned concerned she asked, “Reconsidering?”

Janice smiled. “Never, been waiting a long time for him to ask. No, I’ll take what comes. If we have a child, magical or not, I’ll still love them.”

Lavender watched her two older sisters hug the newest member of the Brown clan. “I knew he would eventually,” Artemisia said. “He’s just been waiting; I’m pretty sure I know why that was.”

“I think you’re right,” Janice said, and looked at Lavender. “He’s very happy with Seamus, Lavender,” Janice said. “He raved about him most of the morning.”

“Not quite all morning,” Lavender said under her breath as she turned to the sink and washed the potatoes. Jasmine gave her a sharp look. Lavender smiled at her sister, tapped the side of her nose, and shook her head.

Jasmine’s eyebrows shot up and she broke into a conspiratorial smile.

“What was that about?” their mother asked.

“Nothing, Mum,” Jasmine answered. “Lav and I just have some shopping to do for the happy couple, and I know just the shop. You know Lav? That one Parvati likes so much?”

An image of lacy pink façade with the words “Victoria’s Secret” written on it floated into her mind. “Yes I think know the shop you’re talking about, been there recently in fact.”

Jasmine practically danced in the kitchen. “Really!”

Lavender blushed and nodded.

Jasmine hugged her younger sister. “That’s so great,” she whispered in her ear. “We should talk.”

“Later,” Lavender said, and hugged her back.

“I’m lost,” Artemisia said.

“As am I,” her mother put in.

“Oh, never mind, Mum,” Lavender told her mother. “May I have some of the beef dripping for the potatoes?”

“I’m not planning Yorkshire pudding,” Sylvia said. “Go on.”

Lavender used her wand to open the door of the oven and then set the roasting tin with the small red potatoes in it on the open door. With a practiced flick of her wand a stream of the dripping from the roasting pan the small standing rib roast was in flew from it and landed in the tin.

“Nice dodge,” Jasmine whispered, and then winked at her younger sister. She turned to the other women. “Well, back to Rowan and Janice, have you thought about an actual date?”

Janice shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing firm, we were thinking about third or fourth weekend in June,”

“That’ll be lovely,” Lavender said, as she rolled the potatoes around in the fat. “Have you thought about where?”

“I really would prefer it outside, but on a mossy rock in the middle of the ocean that’s probably not possible,” Janice said thoughtfully, while she stared into infinity. “I always had this picture in my head of me barefoot on the grass in a diaphanous kind of dress, you know, very fairy tale.”

Lavender slid the roasting tin into the oven onto the lower rack next to the small ham.

Artemisia laughed. “Oh, we can arrange the fairy part,” she said between chuckles. “The tale, well…”

Lavender stood, and said, “Actually, I might know just the place;” – she smiled – “It’s been host to a few Magical and Muggle parties.” Her hand went to her chin, and she looked contemplative. “We’d have to get everyone to Ireland, but that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Ireland?” Janice asked Lavender.

“Yeah, Seamus’s home,” she answered. “Your family could meet here and we could portkey them to The Grove, that’s what they call the place, and our side could meet them there.” Lavender looked at Janice. “I’ll talk to Margaret. We’re going to arrange a Finnigan, Brown get together anyway, and you should come along too. You could check it out.” She smiled at her brother’s fiancée. “You’ll love it. It’s so beautiful, and the garden… you’ll just love it.”

“Sounds like you’d like to get married there yourself, little sister,” Jasmine jibed.

Lavender shrugged and tossed her head to the side. “It would be nice, we’ll see.”

Sylvia laid her hand on her youngest child’s shoulder. “Well as influential as you are with the ministry, and as many favors as you’re owed, I don’t think imposing an entire wedding party of Muggles on them at this time is a good idea. I’m sure they’d push though the clearances, but it might be a better idea to think of a place closer to home and less… fraught with complications.” She chuckled. “Besides, the weather is always unpredictable in June, and we haven’t even met your Seamus’s mother yet ourselves. Let’s take it a bit slower, Lavender.”

Lavender smiled and tossed her head. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. It’s just that the Grove is such a beautiful place. You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure we will,” Artemisia said, and took her little sister’s hand. “Mum’s right, slow down, Lav. Take a breath. Everything in your life has been moving very fast for the last few years, so you should enjoy this time with Seamus. Take it from me, don’t rush, it doesn’t help and can hurt what you have.” She turned to the cooling cabinet and pulled several ramekins and a plate of bread slices from it. “I’ll just put out the potted shrimp, Mum.”

“Did I hear ‘potted shrimp’,” Rowan's voice said from the sitting room.

*

An hour later the smell of roast turkey drew the men to the kitchen like a magnet. Sylvia levitated the roasting tin from the oven and floated it across the room to the slates on the kitchen table. A few moments after that, the two smaller pans landed next to it. Just as they set down on the table the door from the sitting room swung open, and Rowan strode through it to embrace his fiancée. He was followed closely by Seamus and Mr. Brown.

Lavender’s father summoned a wing right off the turkey.

“Nat!” Mrs. Brown scolded. “You just can wait, can you?”

“He does that every year,” Lavender whispered in Seamus’s ear, and he felt her laugh.

Rowan nicked the other one while his mother was distracted.

“And just look what you’ve taught your son,” she said, and playfully swatted Rowan’s shoulder. “Stealing our guest’s breakfast, snatching turkey wings; where will it end, where will it end?” she finished melodramatically.

“In their kitchen with kids of their own,” Mr. Brown answered through a mouthful of turkey, with a nod at Rowan and Janice.

Rowan ripped the wing in half and handed one of the halves to Seamus. “Besides,” he said, “the wings belong to the men.”

“And the men belong to us,” Janice said, and she nimbly grabbed Rowan’s part of the wing from his hand, took a bite, and handed it back to him.

Artemisia put her hand on Janice’s shoulder. “I love this girl, Rowan.”

“Alright, alright,” Mrs. Brown said. “Everybody out except Lavender and… Jasmine could you help get things out to the table this year dear?”

“Sure, Mum,” the tall, thin woman answered.

“Artemisia, would you and Rowan set the table, and get out the platters for the beef, ham, and turkey?” Mrs. Brown asked them, and then looked at her husband. “Nat, get out the carving set.”

Once the table was set and the platters arranged at the end of the table, Jasmine levitated the turkey, in its pan, to the table. When it was safely down on the slates she levitated the turkey from the pan, and set it on the carving board in front of her father. A casual wave of her wand sent the pan back to her mother in the kitchen so she could make the gravy. Mr. Brown stood at the end of the table and opened an old box that sat next to the platters. The carving set he pulled from it was a thing of beauty. The blade of the knife gleamed, and Seamus could see the edge was razor sharp. The handles were solid silver and ornately cast into the shape of dragon’s heads.

“Been in the family for centuries,” Nathanial Brown told Seamus as he carved the turkey. “My great, great, great grandfather was in the Napoleonic wars, and he brought this set home from Germany.”

While their father carved, Jasmine brought out the roast beef and the ham and set them on their platters next to the turkey. Lavender was next with roast potatoes, broccoli in a cheese sauce, candied carrots, and a dish piled with colcannon for Seamus. “I made this for us,” she told him. “Got to keep my hand in what your mum taught me.”

Seamus kissed her hand. “It looks perfect, love.”

“If you’ll share I’ll have some as well,” Janice said from across the table. “Got a pub in Paddington does a fair colcannon, but yours looks better.”

“Aye, there’ll be plenty, Janice,” Seamus told her.

Nathanial Brown’s job on Christmas day was to slice meats, and he took that job very seriously. Seamus had to chuckle, his father had the same job but took far less care than Lavender’s father did. Perfect slices were being dealt from the breast of the turkey, and Seamus could see that Nat approached carving like a Ravenclaw, methodically. First he had removed the beasts and placed them on the platter, then he cut the legs and thighs from the bird and placed them on the platter. He stripped a few more pieces from the bird and twisted it sideways to make room on the carving board. The breasts returned to the board, and with long even movements he made quarter inch slabs. Next he shredded the thigh and leg meat, then he laid it all on the platter, with the breast slices fanning out along the sides of the dish and the dark meat piled in the center.

After the turkey was laid on its platter, the carving board with the remains of the turkey was sent to the kitchen, and a fresh one for the beef was retrieved from the sideboard. Seamus noticed right off that Sylvia had catered to her youngest daughter’s taste with that one. The first slice Nat took from the end of the roast revealed that it was cooked but very rare. A growl from the chair next to him made him laugh. “Been a while since breakfast, eh love?”

“Yes, it has,” she said, and then leaned in and whispered in his ear. “It looks great, and being in a fight really works up the appetite.”

Seamus squeezed her hand under the table. They were smiling at each other when the door to the kitchen opened and Sylvia Brown came in carrying a large oval bowl.

Lavender and her sisters broke into applause as their mother set the bowl on the table. “This is one of our favorites, it’s Mum’s special bread sauce. She gets all these different bits of bread, sourdough, rye, French, all kinds. Then she adds some stock, spices, raisins, and cranberries, and bakes it off.”

Seamus tilted his head at the dish. “There’d be the chestnuts then?”

“Spot on, Seamus,” Sylvia said. “Most times I have to use the tinned ones, and with those I have to toast them. With these I just chopped and sprinkled.” Smiling happily to herself she summoned a large, very full, gravy boat from the kitchen.

The roast beef was sliced thin and laid on its platter, and the carving board was sent to the kitchen to join its twin. The small ham was then sliced on its platter. “It’s not Christmas without ham!” Artemisia pronounced.

“Janice, would you like to give the blessing?” Sylvia asked.

Janice smiled and nodded to her future mother in-law. “Certainly, Sylvia.” All around the table heads bowed. “Give us grateful hearts, O Father, for all thy mercies, and make us mindful of the needs of others; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

After Janice finished, Nat levitated the platter of turkey and sent it from person to person around the table. The beef followed and soon all the dishes were parading past them. Seamus took a bit of everything, and with plates piled high the feast began.

Lavender took a bite of the roast beef and smiled in ecstasy. “Thanks, Mum, this is perfect.”

“I’m glad, dear,” she replied, and nodded at the man next to her. “Seamus seems to like it too.”

Seamus finished chewing. “I’ve always liked me meat rare. Course Lav likes it really rare,” he said, and everyone laughed. “I agree though, this is just right, Sylvia.”

“The ham’s particularly good this year too,” Artemisia told her mother.

“I got it last trip out to Amesbury when I picked up that sausage that Seamus liked so much this morning.” She laughed. “Happiest pigs on earth, at least for a few years.”

“And tasty too,” Rowan said to general amusement.

Sylvia Brown smiled to herself. The Christmas table hadn’t been this happy, and most of all relaxed, in many, many years. She had a moment where she almost broke down and wept for the sheer joy of it. Her son had finally followed his heart and done what he should have a long time ago. Her daughters were laughing and gossiping, and her husband was watching and joining the conversation with humor and enjoyment. Then there was the tow headed man next to her youngest. Sylvia didn’t need that antique ball in her bedroom to see where this was headed. He talked with everyone at the table, joined in their laughter, but his eyes were ever on the blonde girl at his side. Sylvia smiled once more and tucked into her plate.
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I Believed in Father Christmas