Transition

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Transition By Firesword
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~ Chapter Twenty-four: After the Trial ~

Wednesday, 15th July 1998.

As Draco had predicted, all sorts of gossip broke loose the following day. As he and his boyfriend were still in bed, it was up to Starkmind or Bluestone to answer the door. By lunch, the couple had heard enough to satisfy even the most gossipy witch, and they had collected all sorts of tabloids and press materials by then.

Finally, Bluestone had had enough with their curious neighbors, and stared impassively at his husband when they heard a series of knocks upon their door for the countless time that day. "I am not going to answer that and have another chitchat," the Veela said resolutely.

Starkmind blinked and waited for their neighbor to go away. To his surprise and Bluestone's aggravation, the person knocked insistently on it.

"Is he trying to knock the damned door down?" the Veela with blue-black hair muttered darkly under his breath.

The house was finally silent a few minutes later and Starkmind breathed a sigh of relief. Harry and Draco made an appearance in the balcony, and both of them looked fresh and alert.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked inquisitively and sat beside Starkmind on the bench. "I thought it was us who were making the bedroom shake."

"Potter!" Draco slapped Harry on his shoulder. His face had turned red quickly to match the Gryffindor's shirt.

Bluestone snorted in amusement while Starkmind chuckled softly.

"But it couldn't be us because I was already dressed and you were swimming in that Jacuzzi," Harry amended swiftly, and gave a sweet smile to Draco.

"Swimming?" Bluestone's expression perked up. "How do you swim in that tub? It's barely lengthy for that!"

"He turned into a fox, that's how," Harry replied with green eyes twinkling with mischief. "So ... what is this about, Draco?"

"I told you just now. Gossip – about yesterday."

"Oh..."

Draco sniffed and clambered to sit on top of the table. He then started to sift through the newspapers, magazines and tabloids, and he reminded Bluestone of a boy from the centre with a love for jigsaw puzzles. The Veela was smiling unconsciously until he felt his husband's foot probing his inner thigh. Elaviel Starkmind lowered his foot and gave a look of sheer innocence at Bluestone.

"What do you say about pretending as though we aren't home?" he asked the three of them. Harry and Draco responded with careless shrugs while Starkmind looked thoughtful.

"It'd be ideal if we had a cottage or some sort of a secure hideaway," Starkmind said, "but oh well."

"What if someone decides to come around the house?" Harry popped the question in a diffident manner.

Starkmind made a noise and the two teenagers looked askance at him. "They wouldn't do that," he said simply.

"Why not?" Draco asked, but kept his eyes on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"They had tried that a few years ago – while we were still quite new with the house. We were slightly more short-tempered then, because there were a lot of things that needed fixing, or should I say, more modern equipment." Starkmind glanced at Bluestone and the Veela continued.

"When the kitchen was undergoing some major renovations, I conjured some rose bushes that lined about the sides of the house, except that they weren't exactly harmless."

Draco looked away from his paper immediately and stared down at his face. "Really?" The teenager's eyes widened. "Wicked!"

"Bluestone, what are they capable of?" Harry queried in a small voice.

"It depends; when the flowers are in a full bloom, they produce an aroma that makes you sleep almost immediately. If there aren't any flowers, the thorns can grow up to several inches long and essentially makes a barbed kind of fence," Bluestone replied in an off-handed manner. "Of course you have to do something silly first – like climbing over it or trying to squeeze yourself through the bushes."

"But there aren't any here!" Harry protested.

"It has to do with what our neighbors think of us. We have taken off most of the bushes, since our neighbors know that it is for their own well-being, and keep their noses out of our territory unless they're invited."

"If you're sure," Harry said dubiously.

"I'll go and fix something for us to eat," Bluestone said and rose to his feet. Harry and Draco both nodded absently, and it struck the Veela just how similar the two reacted. He caught his husband's gaze and they exchanged sly winks.

Bluestone smiled crookedly and went through the open doorway. He paused at the landing, cocked his head to one side, and listened for any sounds of human voices outside. All was silent, and he shrugged. Swiftly, but quietly, Bluestone walked into the kitchen.

The Veela bustled about the area, took out pans and plates while he tried to remember what was still available in the pantry. He then decided to fix some chicken sandwiches and a huge iced pumpkin juice. Maybe I can cheat a bit and then we can have biscuits too.

He retrieved the bag of flour and other baking ingredients, before he set the utensils up. He removed his wand from his pocket and waved grandiosely at the countertop.

"Feather-light chocolate swirls, please," Bluestone commanded.

Instantly, measured butter and sugar were creamed inside the huge mixing bowl by a whisk. Bluestone then focused his attention to the making of sandwiches. He had just placed the grilled chicken meat cubes into a bowl but the biscuits were already ready to be baked. He popped the biscuits into the oven, and then waved his wand to clean the mess he had created. In thirty minutes, lunch was ready.

He juggled the trays as deftly as a seasoned waiter and climbed up the staircase. The doors to the balcony were still open and he breezed into the area. As he placed the tray on an unoccupied space on the bench, he heard Draco mutter ungracious things under his breath. The Slytherin was handling a newly posted tabloid contemptuously in one hand.

"Listen to this," Draco said to him, Starkmind and Harry. "Heir of Lucius Malfoy tried yesterday in court, this one was fine. The next headline: Mishap in Hogwarts during the Quidditch Final linked to Lucius Malfoy and Death Eaters. Now, I thought that things were pretty clear yesterday. Didn't the idiots bother to check with the Ministry officials?"

"I don't think I care to imagine Snape's reaction to this," Starkmind said mildly.

While Draco continued to announce each of the headlines with great emphasis, Bluestone filled the glasses with the pumpkin juice and hoped that the beverage would at least soothe his indignant companion.

"Draco Malfoy: Innocent Victim or a Cunning Schemer? Now – how in the bloody world did they know about my extra inheritance?"

Bluestone did not know anything about that but judging from Harry's troubled look, at least the teenager's boyfriend knew about it. "So ... they're saying that you and your mother might have planned to murder Lucius Malfoy?" he asked the young wizard.

Draco thrust the paper into his hand, took a sandwich and started to eat.

Bluestone looked down and read the article quickly. Then he sighed when he finished. He exchanged a thoughtful glance with his husband and chewed on his lower lip. "I think it would be good for the two of you to lie low for several days until this," he waved the paper slightly, "becomes less significant."

"I agree, but Bluestone, I do think we ought to go out and show our faces tomorrow," Starkmind said.

"All right. We do need to restock the pantry in any case." The Veela eyed the younger wizards with a slightly devilish look. "We might as well take our time and let these two have a little adventure of their own."

Starkmind was slightly confused at his statement. "What? Haven't they explored the house from top to bottom? Why should they..." Starkmind blinked and stared hard at Bluestone, who was smirking. "Oh."

"Did you understand any of that?" Draco asked Harry but the latter refused to reply.

A day passed without any further incidents, and after Bluestone and Starkmind did some careful probing, it seemed that their neighbors realized that the media could not be trusted all the time.

Starkmind was right about Snape reacting badly. The Daily Prophet had immediately placed a large notice regarding the matter of the accident the next day. It was one of the factors that somewhat convinced their neighbors that Draco Malfoy was badly portrayed due to the self-interests of the reporters.

A mixed group of witches and wizards – young and old – ambushed Bluestone and his husband while they shopped. A few of them were teachers from the centre. What the group had in common was that they were old time residents of Dancers' Vale.

"Hello, Bluestone, Elaviel," a grizzly old wizard croaked. He tipped his sharp, pointed hat at them in greeting.

"Hello, Jason," Bluestone replied with a broad smile. The warlock stared at the two of them somewhat uncertainly and glanced at the crowd behind him.

Jason Kanic gave a loud sigh and turned back to the couple. "Martha and the others have organized a gathering for Harry Potter and the other one. They seem to think it's a good time get to know the new ones."

Bluestone blinked; the news had taken him by surprise. Although Starkmind was just as surprised, the chestnut-haired wizard was able to recover much more quickly than he was.

"And where is this gathering taking place?" Starkmind inquired politely.

"The school field. Tomorrow; at seven."

"Are you serious? I'm not sure if it is a good time for Draco to come out," Starkmind said dubiously.

"Huh ... what's the use of locking the pair in? They have to come out and face the world anyway. And it is as good a time to dispel all those rumors spread by the papers," Jason said with a little toss of his head. The warlock had almost forgotten that he was wearing his hat and placed his hand on it just in time.

"So ... what do you say?" a young witch – she looked as though she was in her late twenties – asked nervously.

"Bluestone?"

"I think we should not say it directly to them." The Veela turned to the anxious crowd. "Dearheart, what do you say that we take Harry and Draco for a little tour about the village before the gathering? We can show them the places to shop, where to get their clothes tailored or mended – that sort of thing."

"Excellent!" Jason said happily. "Now, Verdi – where has that hag gone to?"

Bluestone and Starkmind looked at each other even as the crowd separated to search for their friend. They smiled suddenly and went back to their interrupted shopping.

~*~

Everyone woke early that Friday morning and Harry began to deal with his chores almost immediately after breakfast. He and Draco shared the first task, which was to feed all the house-pets and groom them a bit. The young couple moved into the hallway to where their pets were housed.

Harry felt as though he had been neglecting his owl for several days, and relished in renewing their bond once more as he fed her tiny morsels of meat and fish. Hedwig looked as happy as he was, and she nipped his fingers playfully each time.

Three feet away, Draco was tending to his eagle owl, and the Gryffindor could not help but begin to compare how different, but yet similar, to the way they behave. While his relationship with Hedwig was casual and relaxed, there seemed to be a formality between Shadow and his owner. However, Draco was as passionate for his pet as Harry was for his snowy white owl.

Every time I look at him, he reminds me of a prince, Harry thought wryly. You just have too much idle time, Harry Potter. Just because he has an eagle owl does not mean he is associated with nobility.

Someone purred and Harry looked down at his ankles. Starry was twining and brushing about his legs, and she mewled, pleading for attention. He gave Hedwig a quick neck rub before picking the cat up. He sat on the window seat and Draco joined him several minutes later. The silver-haired wizard looked slightly pained as Sneaky latched on the wizard's fingers and chewed on them.

"You just had your breakfast," Draco was scolding the cat gently. "Don't be greedy." Sneaky ignored him and became as playful as a kitten once Draco got the cat settled on his lap. "Have you noticed that Elaviel and Bluestone are behaving rather weirdly since yesterday afternoon?" Draco asked Harry in a conversational manner.

The black-haired Gryffindor lifted an eyebrow. "No," he replied.

"It's as though they're stuffed full of secrets and they're bursting at the seams," Draco continued. He pursed his lips and flicked Sneaky's bushy cat away from his face.

Starry was much more content to sit quietly on Harry's lap and enjoy a good scratching. Draco's observation made the wizard think for a while but he had not found anything significant in his memory. Finally, he shrugged.

"What have you got later?" he asked Draco then.

"Weeding the garden. How about you?"

"Laundry."

Draco blinked. He did not say anything.

"What?" Harry questioned his boyfriend curiously.

"Are you sure you know how it is done?"

"Yes, I know." Harry sighed.

"Harry, those robes are very expensive, you know."

"I know what I'm doing, Draco."

"You'd better. Make sure those stains are removed. I don't want the other two snickering behind my back and whispering which is whose."

Harry's face turned bright red and he coughed uncomfortably. "I think I had better get started." He scooped Starry from his lap and dumped her onto Draco. As usual, the two cats started to yowl, hiss and paw at each other's faces. Harry began to feel sorry for his Slytherin boyfriend but felt that Draco would be able to cope with the two frisky felines.

The teenager did the washing – using magic, of course – inside their bathroom. Harry had carefully separated the colored robes from the black and white, and silk from cotton. He was a great deal more lax with his everyday clothes but did not dare to treat Draco's garments the same way.

He took Draco's warning seriously and inspected each of their sleeping robes and pajamas thoroughly. Then he deliberately charmed the evident stains of coupling away. The last pile of garments to be washed was their underwear, and he was examining one of Draco's boxers with a great deal of interest. Before he could get too carried away, he resolutely went on with the washing.

Harry went to the balcony to hang the laundry but found that the clothesline that had been erected earlier was taken up by either Starkmind or Bluestone's apparel.

"Harry!" someone called him from below. Harry, who was still carrying the huge laundry basket, carefully leaned out of the railing. It was Bluestone, and he had erected several clotheslines beyond the herb garden. "Dry your clothes here!"

"He could just use magic to dry and iron them," someone kneeling on the rich brown soil and pulling out tufts of weed said airily.

"I am not an expert in house-keeping magic yet, Draco. I hope you don't mind that I'm relying on the sun to dry our clothes completely."

The wizard weeding the garden below merely snorted. Then Draco glanced up and made a face at Harry. The latter rolled his eyes heavenwards in exasperation and made the trip to the backyard. He was halfway on hanging their clothes up when Starkmind appeared behind him and inspected his dark blue sleeping robe.

"I think you missed a spot," the older wizard announced.

"Let me see!" Bluestone peered over the half-Veela's shoulder, and gave a disappointed sigh. "Coffee." Then he asked the emerald-eyed wizard suddenly. "How in the world did you get coffee?"

"He's a coffee-holic, dear one," Starkmind said. "He must have one of those instant packets with him."

Harry made a noncommittal reply and hung the last of Draco's robes. "It tasted awful though. Are there any shops here that sells good coffee?"

"Yes, they do. The funny thing about them is they're all products made by non-magical people. I guess it is quality that counts." Starkmind ran his fingers through his hair. "Wanna go out for a tour right after lunch?"

Harry brightened at the prospect but paused to wonder if Draco wanted to come along. "I'll ask Draco," he said in a preoccupied tone. His mind was busy trying to think of ways to persuade the Slytherin, but in the end, it did not take Harry that much effort to convince Draco to go. The Slytherin seemed relieved at the prospect of being able to stretch his legs and spend his money.

"I wonder if there's a shop that sells..." Draco's voice trailed off, and his face took on a dreamy expression.

"Sell what?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"What? Oh ... nothing," Draco replied evasively. "Bluestone's calling."

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