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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: This story is a little cookie, err Biscotti, that takes place shortly after the events of “With Friends Like These Part 7”.
Amici ed Amanti - Biscotti
The simple truth of the matter was Murphy didn’t trust him anymore.
Sure, it’d been a week since his best friend had gone completely nutters, attacking an international Quidditch star and breaking his nose then taking out the rest of his pent up anger on his baby sister’s room, destroying any and every thing Puddlemere United he could lay his hands on. Liam had made his apologies to everyone concerned, even Tavish Wood, but Murphy truly doubted the sincerity of that apology.
Everything seemed to pretty much go back to normal after Lucy Ann spent nearly three hours locked in Ava’s room with Liam. He could have wrung her neck for that little stunt. If something had happened to her it would have been his fault because he knew Liam’s state of mind. He had already proven dangerous to four grown men, yet somehow a wee little witch had managed to sooth the savage beast. Liam seemed almost normal again.
Murphy would have paid good money to know what had transpired behind that closed, locked and silence-charmed door that afternoon a week ago.
On the surface, everything seemed normal between his best friend and the witch that he was in love with despite being in denial. They were still barely tolerating one another, but there was something else just underneath that that piqued his interest. He knew things were not as they seemed. Any Auror worth his weight in salt would have picked up on it, but so far he had been unable to catch them at whatever little game they were playing.
So, he’d bide his time, watching and waiting, because one of them was bound to tip their hand.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his arm. “Mum,” he said a little shakily.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” she asked, her brown eyes full of concern.
“No, ma’am,” he admitted sheepishly.
“I was just saying that I know wedding details are boring, but you only have two more weeks of this torture.”
He smiled as he looked across the room at where Mere, Lucy Ann, Stephie and his soon to be mother-in-law were gathered around table where the caterer had laid out a wide array of hors d'oeuvres, raptly listening to Rauri explain which ones were preferred for an early evening wedding. “I know, but I just want to know what to wear and when to show up.”
His adopted mother gave him a dubious look. “It’s your wedding too. You should have a say.”
“No, it’s all for Mere. This is her show. If it’d been up to me, I’d have been happy to just sign the papers at the Ministry.”
“Oh no, don’t you even say that! There will be no running away and getting married while I’m alive!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said contritely, kissing her cheek.
“That is what I thought,” she said with a smile as she squeezed his hand. “You’d never disappoint me.”
“Of course not.”
“Good, I have a small problem I hope you can help me with. It’ll get you away from all the wedding planning for a little while.”
Dread immediately pooled in the pit of stomach. If she were to ask him for help with the Liam and Lucy Ann situation, he’d be forced to admit his role in his soon-to-be wife’s nefarious plot to force them together. Not that Mum would mind, but he had learned long ago she liked to take credit for these sorts of things. He really didn’t have the energy to play the minion for another witch. He needed more male friends, honestly.
“Anything for you, Mum,” he heard himself say automatically.
“It’s Ava. She had been a bit out of sorts all week and this morning when we went to the robesmaker for her final fitting she caused a small scene.”
Of course Ava had been out of sorts all week; her favorite bother destroyed her room in scary fit of jealous rage. A ‘small’ scene at the robesmakers was not out of the ordinary. The mere fact that Mum had somehow managed to trick the little witch into going in the first place should have been the surprise. Ava’s abhorrence of dress robes was legendary in the family circles.
“What sort of scene?” he asked warily.
She waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t a big deal, but I think you should talk to her.”
“Me?”
“Yes, she adores you so and I think she’s feeling a bit put out about the wedding.”
“You mean she’s put out about having to wear a dress?”
“No, it’s a bit more than that. I just think you need to go talk to her.”
He looked back at Mere to gage how miffed she’d be if he slipped away. She was enthralled with the wedding planner. “I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”
Ginny’s face brightened considerable. “Mere won’t even miss you, I promise! Ava was in the back garden near the sandbox the last time I saw her.”
Murphy slipped out the side door, slowly making his way to what was commonly known as the back garden. It wasn’t really a garden at all; plants of all sorts, even weeds, had refused to grow there for as long as he’d been in the family. It was the Malfoy children’s play area complete with a small castle including a moat, a massive tree house, and a pirate ship in addition to the more typical sandbox and swings. He’d spent untold hours playing out there with Liam, Gareth, their various friends and cousins. The regulation size Quidditch pitch was just on the other side of a small hill.
Ava was kneeling before a very large Quidditch Match set, the expensive, collectible version from what he could tell. The Falcons were currently slaughtering the Wasps as she and Hammy, her cat, looked on, the animated players duking it out in air above the wooden stadium base. She would occasionally utter a command to ensure the outcome of the game.
“Nice Quidditch set you’ve got there,” he said by way of announcing his presence as he sat on the ground across from his baby sister.
She brushed stringy strands of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her eyes. “Liam bought it for me this week.”
“It’s very nice.” The fact that she didn’t refer to her favorite brother by his pet name spoke volumes. She was still miffed despite the ridiculously expensive bribe he paid to win her affections back. Murphy had a feeling that Liam would be bled dry before Ava was satisfied with his apologies.
“I know. I want the European expansion pack.”
“Maybe you’ll get it for Christmas.”
She gave him a look that told him she’d have it by next week if she had any say in the matter. “Maybe.”
“So, I heard about this morning.”
“What did you hear?” Pink immediately blossomed in her cheeks as she quickly turned away from him, making sure her oversized Slytherin Quidditch jumper was firmly pulled down.
He got the distinct feeling that Mum hadn’t told him everything. “Mum said you were a bit put out about the dress fitting.”
“Is that all she told you?”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me?”
“Of course not, why is there more?”
“No,” she replied in a small, unconvincing voice.
“You don’t want to be in my wedding?”
“N-no.”
“Mere will be so disappointed. She thought you’d make the most beautiful flower girl.”
Ava brushed her hair out of her eyes again, this time leaving a smug of dark dirt on her cheek. “I don’t want to be a flower girl. I’m a Quidditch player.”
“I know, Squirt, but not even for me?”
“Why can’t I wear my uni?”
“Because I don’t think those were meant for formal occasions.”
“Mummy can make me one! She sews really good!”
“I know, but Mere went to the trouble of picking out a dress she thought you’d like.”
“It’s not blue,” Ava pouted. “I’d like it better if it was blue.”
“I know, but Mere wanted a forest green and ivory wedding.”
“I’d like blue better.”
“It’s not your wedding,” Murphy pointed out. The Malfoy witches were all the same apparently. It was their way come hell or high water or no way at all.
“She could change it.”
“Not at this late date, Squirt.”
“Then I won’t wear it.”
How in the world did he manage to get himself caught up in these sort of situations? It seemed like he spent most of his life between two witches with very distinctly different needs and wants. “Not even for me?”
“Okay, but only for you,” she said with a sly smile.
He picked up one of the unused Falcon players, examining the finely crafted detail, down to each individual twig on the miniature broom. The match set must have made quite a dent in Liam’s vault. “So do you want to tell me what this morning was about?”
Ava sighed heavily as she piled Harpies players in the case. “No.”
“Mum said you caused some sort of scene at the robesmaker,” he prodded.
“It was her fault!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes!” Ava stated firmly, still clearly aggrieved at that morning’s events. She immediately launched into her version of that morning’s events, starting out with how she was tricked into thinking Da was going to take her to a Quidditch match, only to be kidnapped by her mother who dragged her to a dress fitting. Then after arriving, she had to suffer through the indignity of being forced to try on the dress in the middle of the store where she was on display for everyone to see. She hadn’t bothered to put on matching knickers and undershirt, but Mum didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t properly attired for trying on a flower girl dress. It took Mum and Madam Ursula both to get her into the dress, causing a huge scene right there in the front window of the bridal shop. “And that’s when I told Mummy I wished a Dementor would eat her,” she finished with a huff.
Murphy covered his snort of laughter with a cough. This just proved once and for all that Ava Molly Malfoy knew no fear. She was going to be a formidable witch if she lived that long. “And what did Mum do?”
The little girl looked anywhere but at him. “She spanked me.”
“Right there? Where everyone could see?”
She nodded her little blonde head. “Yes.”
He was at a loss. It wasn’t like Mum to lose her temper like that, especially in public. Ava must have been devastated because, despite her appearance most of the time, she was a very proper young little witch. “Oh sweetheart,” he said softly, holding his arms out for her. She refused to even look at him, but he did get a lap full of calico cat who’d happily taken him up on his invitation.
“Mummy sent me to my room because she said she was so angry couldn’t stand to look at me,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion as she picked up Gigi, hugging the stuffed black and white cat tight.
“But Mum is okay now isn’t she?” he asked, clearly concerned that this was much worse than what Ginny had initially let on when she’d told him to go speak with Ava.
“Yes. She apologized.”
“But you’re not okay are you?”
“No.”
“Do you want to tell me what is wrong? Maybe I can fix it.”
The wide-eyed surprised look she gave him was a clear indication that this was not about a silly incident at the robesmaker’s, but rather about him.
“Are you angry with me, Squirt?”
“No,” she said a little too quickly.
Ava would be a solicitor’s dream on the witness stand with her short answers. She was the type of witness he hated to interview because getting blood from a stone would have been easier than extracting information from her. Apparently, he was going to have to grope around in the dark with both hands before she gave up anything useful.
“It’s not the dress,” he mused out loud. “It’s not me. It’s the wedding. You’re upset about the wedding.”
“C’mon, Hammy. Let’s go watch Liam practice,” she called as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her bum. “Maybe he’ll let us try out his new broom.”
“That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want me to get married do you?”
“I don’t mind you getting married.”
He was only left with one option then. “Mere.” The little girl stopped in her tracks. “You don’t want me to marry her.”
She twirled on one of the robes used for climbing up into the tree house. “No, I don’t.”
“I thought you loved Mere,” he replied, a little shocked at Ava’s revelation. She’d known Mere her whole life. His fiancé had always spoilt the Malfoy baby rotten, indulging her whims by taking her shopping at Quality Quidditch Supply and treating her to strawberry sundaes. This was the first he was hearing of problems between the two witches he loved most in the world.
“I do love her,” she answered, turning her back to him once again. “She’s really nice.”
“Then I don’t understand why you don’t want us to get married.”
Ava gave him a grief stricken look as fat, glistening tears were making tracks down her dirty cheeks. “You were supposed to marry me!”
He opened his arms to her and she immediately wrapped herself around him. “Oh, Ava. I’m far too old for you.”
“No, you’re not!”
“You should be looking at boys your own age.”
“They aren’t has handsome as you are,” she said shyly. “Besides, boys are icky.”
“But I’m a boy,” he countered.
“No, you’re not. You’re Fifi. And you could marry me now!”
“And just what I would I do with you if I married you now?”
“Take me to Quidditch matches,” she answered quickly. She made herself comfortable in his lap.
It was apparent to him that she’d given this matter a great deal of thought. Murphy wondered just how long Ava had allowed these feelings to stew before finally getting them off her chest. He never could tell with her because she was a true Malfoy, rarely showing her emotions except under extreme duress and even then it’s kept to a bare minimum.
“Wouldn’t that interfere with school?” he asked.
“I’d stop going.”
“But, don’t you need an education?”
“I can already read and do Arithmancy.”
“Don’t you want to learn how to brew potions?”
“Uncle Sev is a Potions Master. If I need anything, I can get it from him.”
“Transfiguration! You have to learn how to do that!”
Ava closed her eyes tightly, scrunching up her face as she concentrated really hard. Hammy immediately vacated the area. One of the Wasp players turned into a small cat figurine with a pop and a small wisp of smoke. It wasn’t pretty, but it proved her point.
“Okay then, what about Mere?” he asked, going for his trump card. “Don’t you think she’d be heartbroken if I didn’t marry her?”
“She’s beautiful. She can find another wizard to marry her.”
“Well, I’d be heartbroken if I didn’t marry her.”
“But you’d have me.”
“I know, Squirt, but I love Mere with all my heart.”
“Oh.”
“I promise you, someday in the future you’re going to meet the Quidditch player of your dreams and fall deliriously in love with him.”
“I will?”
“Yes,” he assured her, “and you’ll want to marry him, but that would be difficult if you were all ready married to me.”
Ava chewed her bottom lip as she pondered over her options. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally conceded after several long moments. “You’re just Auror and he’d be a Quidditch player…”
“So I think the only option here is for you to wait for your Quidditch player while I make Mere a happy witch and marry her.”
“Yes, I’ll wait for my Quidditch player.” She smiled brightly.
Murphy sagged a bit in relief. He really didn’t want to think about the prospect of having a very unhappy Ava on his hands. She could be difficult during the best of times, but when she was upset about something… He shuddered to think of the trouble he just diverted from himself.
“Why don’t we go in the house and see about some hot chocolate and biscuits, Squirt,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to the little blonde witch. His happened to spy an expertly drawn diagram of the seating arrangements for his wedding in the sand of the sandbox. There seemed to be acorns and leaves strategically placed around the chart. “What’s this?”
Ava jumped in the sandbox, quickly eradicating the evidence with the shuffling of her feet.
“Nothing!”
“You were going to sabotage my wedding weren’t you?”
“Yes,” she answered sheepishly, toeing the sand, “but that was before I knew I was going to marry a Quidditch player!”
“Dare I ask what the acorns and leaves were supposed to be?”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Dungbombs and portable swamps.”
“You were really going all out with this, weren’t you?” he asked in total awe of so much deviousness in such a small package.
“Why do anything unless you put your heart into it, or at least that is what Mummy says.”
It figures she’d listen to her mother just that one time. “We’re good now, right? You’re not going to Dungbomb my wedding?”
“No, I won’t ruin your wedding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I want you to marry Mere and make her a happy witch now. I’ll even wear the froufrou dress and only complain a little.”
“ Froufrou? I see those French lessons are paying off. Da will be pleased to know it wasn’t a waste of money after all!” he teased.
She slapped both hands over her mouth. “Don’t tell him, please!”
“Your secret is safe with me. Now how about that hot chocolate?” He scooped her up, tossing a giggling Ava over shoulder to take the short trek to the kitchens.
They were just outside of the gate that separated the large play area from the formal gardens when she started squirming and squealing, “Ewww!”
“What?” Murphy asked, looking at the disgusted little girl. “What’s wrong?”
“Liam and Lucy Ann,” she said, crinkling her nose.
“What about them?” he asked, confused.
“Snogging!”
“What?” His eyes widened as they followed the direction she was pointing.
There in the distance, by the broom shed, stood Liam and Lucy Ann locked in an intimate embrace. She was pressed back against the outside wall as Liam looked like he was trying to devour her with his mouth.
“They’re just as bad as Mum and Da,” Ava complained bitterly.
“You’ve seen them before?”
“Yes, they’re all kissy-kissy when they think no one is looking.”
“How long has this been going on?” Murphy demanded.
“Since they locked themselves in my room for hours.” The disgust in her voice was evident.
“I’ll have a word with Liam about that.”
“Please do, it’s gross!” She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. “C’mon, forget about them. I want some choccy biccies.”
This was a most interesting turn of events and he wouldn’t forget it. Murphy knew that if he only waited long enough, Liam and Lucy Ann would show their hand. Now they’d been caught red handed. He would have to give some thought about how he wanted to play this bit of information.
Did he want to share this bit of information with Mere and Stephie who would go straight to Lucy Ann or did he want to keep it to himself to use as ammunition when the need arose? He had an eyewitness after all…
Decisions, decisions.
A/N: Thank you to cupid12203 for the inspiration for this story. It grew out of a conversation we had one afternoon. Also thanks to dragonsangel68 for her lively and amusing plot discussions. And a huge thank you always to my darling beta, nokomis305.
A/N: This story is a little cookie, err Biscotti, that takes place shortly after the events of “With Friends Like These Part 7”.
Amici ed Amanti - Biscotti
The simple truth of the matter was Murphy didn’t trust him anymore.
Sure, it’d been a week since his best friend had gone completely nutters, attacking an international Quidditch star and breaking his nose then taking out the rest of his pent up anger on his baby sister’s room, destroying any and every thing Puddlemere United he could lay his hands on. Liam had made his apologies to everyone concerned, even Tavish Wood, but Murphy truly doubted the sincerity of that apology.
Everything seemed to pretty much go back to normal after Lucy Ann spent nearly three hours locked in Ava’s room with Liam. He could have wrung her neck for that little stunt. If something had happened to her it would have been his fault because he knew Liam’s state of mind. He had already proven dangerous to four grown men, yet somehow a wee little witch had managed to sooth the savage beast. Liam seemed almost normal again.
Murphy would have paid good money to know what had transpired behind that closed, locked and silence-charmed door that afternoon a week ago.
On the surface, everything seemed normal between his best friend and the witch that he was in love with despite being in denial. They were still barely tolerating one another, but there was something else just underneath that that piqued his interest. He knew things were not as they seemed. Any Auror worth his weight in salt would have picked up on it, but so far he had been unable to catch them at whatever little game they were playing.
So, he’d bide his time, watching and waiting, because one of them was bound to tip their hand.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his arm. “Mum,” he said a little shakily.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” she asked, her brown eyes full of concern.
“No, ma’am,” he admitted sheepishly.
“I was just saying that I know wedding details are boring, but you only have two more weeks of this torture.”
He smiled as he looked across the room at where Mere, Lucy Ann, Stephie and his soon to be mother-in-law were gathered around table where the caterer had laid out a wide array of hors d'oeuvres, raptly listening to Rauri explain which ones were preferred for an early evening wedding. “I know, but I just want to know what to wear and when to show up.”
His adopted mother gave him a dubious look. “It’s your wedding too. You should have a say.”
“No, it’s all for Mere. This is her show. If it’d been up to me, I’d have been happy to just sign the papers at the Ministry.”
“Oh no, don’t you even say that! There will be no running away and getting married while I’m alive!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said contritely, kissing her cheek.
“That is what I thought,” she said with a smile as she squeezed his hand. “You’d never disappoint me.”
“Of course not.”
“Good, I have a small problem I hope you can help me with. It’ll get you away from all the wedding planning for a little while.”
Dread immediately pooled in the pit of stomach. If she were to ask him for help with the Liam and Lucy Ann situation, he’d be forced to admit his role in his soon-to-be wife’s nefarious plot to force them together. Not that Mum would mind, but he had learned long ago she liked to take credit for these sorts of things. He really didn’t have the energy to play the minion for another witch. He needed more male friends, honestly.
“Anything for you, Mum,” he heard himself say automatically.
“It’s Ava. She had been a bit out of sorts all week and this morning when we went to the robesmaker for her final fitting she caused a small scene.”
Of course Ava had been out of sorts all week; her favorite bother destroyed her room in scary fit of jealous rage. A ‘small’ scene at the robesmakers was not out of the ordinary. The mere fact that Mum had somehow managed to trick the little witch into going in the first place should have been the surprise. Ava’s abhorrence of dress robes was legendary in the family circles.
“What sort of scene?” he asked warily.
She waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t a big deal, but I think you should talk to her.”
“Me?”
“Yes, she adores you so and I think she’s feeling a bit put out about the wedding.”
“You mean she’s put out about having to wear a dress?”
“No, it’s a bit more than that. I just think you need to go talk to her.”
He looked back at Mere to gage how miffed she’d be if he slipped away. She was enthralled with the wedding planner. “I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”
Ginny’s face brightened considerable. “Mere won’t even miss you, I promise! Ava was in the back garden near the sandbox the last time I saw her.”
Murphy slipped out the side door, slowly making his way to what was commonly known as the back garden. It wasn’t really a garden at all; plants of all sorts, even weeds, had refused to grow there for as long as he’d been in the family. It was the Malfoy children’s play area complete with a small castle including a moat, a massive tree house, and a pirate ship in addition to the more typical sandbox and swings. He’d spent untold hours playing out there with Liam, Gareth, their various friends and cousins. The regulation size Quidditch pitch was just on the other side of a small hill.
Ava was kneeling before a very large Quidditch Match set, the expensive, collectible version from what he could tell. The Falcons were currently slaughtering the Wasps as she and Hammy, her cat, looked on, the animated players duking it out in air above the wooden stadium base. She would occasionally utter a command to ensure the outcome of the game.
“Nice Quidditch set you’ve got there,” he said by way of announcing his presence as he sat on the ground across from his baby sister.
She brushed stringy strands of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her eyes. “Liam bought it for me this week.”
“It’s very nice.” The fact that she didn’t refer to her favorite brother by his pet name spoke volumes. She was still miffed despite the ridiculously expensive bribe he paid to win her affections back. Murphy had a feeling that Liam would be bled dry before Ava was satisfied with his apologies.
“I know. I want the European expansion pack.”
“Maybe you’ll get it for Christmas.”
She gave him a look that told him she’d have it by next week if she had any say in the matter. “Maybe.”
“So, I heard about this morning.”
“What did you hear?” Pink immediately blossomed in her cheeks as she quickly turned away from him, making sure her oversized Slytherin Quidditch jumper was firmly pulled down.
He got the distinct feeling that Mum hadn’t told him everything. “Mum said you were a bit put out about the dress fitting.”
“Is that all she told you?”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me?”
“Of course not, why is there more?”
“No,” she replied in a small, unconvincing voice.
“You don’t want to be in my wedding?”
“N-no.”
“Mere will be so disappointed. She thought you’d make the most beautiful flower girl.”
Ava brushed her hair out of her eyes again, this time leaving a smug of dark dirt on her cheek. “I don’t want to be a flower girl. I’m a Quidditch player.”
“I know, Squirt, but not even for me?”
“Why can’t I wear my uni?”
“Because I don’t think those were meant for formal occasions.”
“Mummy can make me one! She sews really good!”
“I know, but Mere went to the trouble of picking out a dress she thought you’d like.”
“It’s not blue,” Ava pouted. “I’d like it better if it was blue.”
“I know, but Mere wanted a forest green and ivory wedding.”
“I’d like blue better.”
“It’s not your wedding,” Murphy pointed out. The Malfoy witches were all the same apparently. It was their way come hell or high water or no way at all.
“She could change it.”
“Not at this late date, Squirt.”
“Then I won’t wear it.”
How in the world did he manage to get himself caught up in these sort of situations? It seemed like he spent most of his life between two witches with very distinctly different needs and wants. “Not even for me?”
“Okay, but only for you,” she said with a sly smile.
He picked up one of the unused Falcon players, examining the finely crafted detail, down to each individual twig on the miniature broom. The match set must have made quite a dent in Liam’s vault. “So do you want to tell me what this morning was about?”
Ava sighed heavily as she piled Harpies players in the case. “No.”
“Mum said you caused some sort of scene at the robesmaker,” he prodded.
“It was her fault!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes!” Ava stated firmly, still clearly aggrieved at that morning’s events. She immediately launched into her version of that morning’s events, starting out with how she was tricked into thinking Da was going to take her to a Quidditch match, only to be kidnapped by her mother who dragged her to a dress fitting. Then after arriving, she had to suffer through the indignity of being forced to try on the dress in the middle of the store where she was on display for everyone to see. She hadn’t bothered to put on matching knickers and undershirt, but Mum didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t properly attired for trying on a flower girl dress. It took Mum and Madam Ursula both to get her into the dress, causing a huge scene right there in the front window of the bridal shop. “And that’s when I told Mummy I wished a Dementor would eat her,” she finished with a huff.
Murphy covered his snort of laughter with a cough. This just proved once and for all that Ava Molly Malfoy knew no fear. She was going to be a formidable witch if she lived that long. “And what did Mum do?”
The little girl looked anywhere but at him. “She spanked me.”
“Right there? Where everyone could see?”
She nodded her little blonde head. “Yes.”
He was at a loss. It wasn’t like Mum to lose her temper like that, especially in public. Ava must have been devastated because, despite her appearance most of the time, she was a very proper young little witch. “Oh sweetheart,” he said softly, holding his arms out for her. She refused to even look at him, but he did get a lap full of calico cat who’d happily taken him up on his invitation.
“Mummy sent me to my room because she said she was so angry couldn’t stand to look at me,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion as she picked up Gigi, hugging the stuffed black and white cat tight.
“But Mum is okay now isn’t she?” he asked, clearly concerned that this was much worse than what Ginny had initially let on when she’d told him to go speak with Ava.
“Yes. She apologized.”
“But you’re not okay are you?”
“No.”
“Do you want to tell me what is wrong? Maybe I can fix it.”
The wide-eyed surprised look she gave him was a clear indication that this was not about a silly incident at the robesmaker’s, but rather about him.
“Are you angry with me, Squirt?”
“No,” she said a little too quickly.
Ava would be a solicitor’s dream on the witness stand with her short answers. She was the type of witness he hated to interview because getting blood from a stone would have been easier than extracting information from her. Apparently, he was going to have to grope around in the dark with both hands before she gave up anything useful.
“It’s not the dress,” he mused out loud. “It’s not me. It’s the wedding. You’re upset about the wedding.”
“C’mon, Hammy. Let’s go watch Liam practice,” she called as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her bum. “Maybe he’ll let us try out his new broom.”
“That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want me to get married do you?”
“I don’t mind you getting married.”
He was only left with one option then. “Mere.” The little girl stopped in her tracks. “You don’t want me to marry her.”
She twirled on one of the robes used for climbing up into the tree house. “No, I don’t.”
“I thought you loved Mere,” he replied, a little shocked at Ava’s revelation. She’d known Mere her whole life. His fiancé had always spoilt the Malfoy baby rotten, indulging her whims by taking her shopping at Quality Quidditch Supply and treating her to strawberry sundaes. This was the first he was hearing of problems between the two witches he loved most in the world.
“I do love her,” she answered, turning her back to him once again. “She’s really nice.”
“Then I don’t understand why you don’t want us to get married.”
Ava gave him a grief stricken look as fat, glistening tears were making tracks down her dirty cheeks. “You were supposed to marry me!”
He opened his arms to her and she immediately wrapped herself around him. “Oh, Ava. I’m far too old for you.”
“No, you’re not!”
“You should be looking at boys your own age.”
“They aren’t has handsome as you are,” she said shyly. “Besides, boys are icky.”
“But I’m a boy,” he countered.
“No, you’re not. You’re Fifi. And you could marry me now!”
“And just what I would I do with you if I married you now?”
“Take me to Quidditch matches,” she answered quickly. She made herself comfortable in his lap.
It was apparent to him that she’d given this matter a great deal of thought. Murphy wondered just how long Ava had allowed these feelings to stew before finally getting them off her chest. He never could tell with her because she was a true Malfoy, rarely showing her emotions except under extreme duress and even then it’s kept to a bare minimum.
“Wouldn’t that interfere with school?” he asked.
“I’d stop going.”
“But, don’t you need an education?”
“I can already read and do Arithmancy.”
“Don’t you want to learn how to brew potions?”
“Uncle Sev is a Potions Master. If I need anything, I can get it from him.”
“Transfiguration! You have to learn how to do that!”
Ava closed her eyes tightly, scrunching up her face as she concentrated really hard. Hammy immediately vacated the area. One of the Wasp players turned into a small cat figurine with a pop and a small wisp of smoke. It wasn’t pretty, but it proved her point.
“Okay then, what about Mere?” he asked, going for his trump card. “Don’t you think she’d be heartbroken if I didn’t marry her?”
“She’s beautiful. She can find another wizard to marry her.”
“Well, I’d be heartbroken if I didn’t marry her.”
“But you’d have me.”
“I know, Squirt, but I love Mere with all my heart.”
“Oh.”
“I promise you, someday in the future you’re going to meet the Quidditch player of your dreams and fall deliriously in love with him.”
“I will?”
“Yes,” he assured her, “and you’ll want to marry him, but that would be difficult if you were all ready married to me.”
Ava chewed her bottom lip as she pondered over her options. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally conceded after several long moments. “You’re just Auror and he’d be a Quidditch player…”
“So I think the only option here is for you to wait for your Quidditch player while I make Mere a happy witch and marry her.”
“Yes, I’ll wait for my Quidditch player.” She smiled brightly.
Murphy sagged a bit in relief. He really didn’t want to think about the prospect of having a very unhappy Ava on his hands. She could be difficult during the best of times, but when she was upset about something… He shuddered to think of the trouble he just diverted from himself.
“Why don’t we go in the house and see about some hot chocolate and biscuits, Squirt,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to the little blonde witch. His happened to spy an expertly drawn diagram of the seating arrangements for his wedding in the sand of the sandbox. There seemed to be acorns and leaves strategically placed around the chart. “What’s this?”
Ava jumped in the sandbox, quickly eradicating the evidence with the shuffling of her feet.
“Nothing!”
“You were going to sabotage my wedding weren’t you?”
“Yes,” she answered sheepishly, toeing the sand, “but that was before I knew I was going to marry a Quidditch player!”
“Dare I ask what the acorns and leaves were supposed to be?”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Dungbombs and portable swamps.”
“You were really going all out with this, weren’t you?” he asked in total awe of so much deviousness in such a small package.
“Why do anything unless you put your heart into it, or at least that is what Mummy says.”
It figures she’d listen to her mother just that one time. “We’re good now, right? You’re not going to Dungbomb my wedding?”
“No, I won’t ruin your wedding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I want you to marry Mere and make her a happy witch now. I’ll even wear the froufrou dress and only complain a little.”
“ Froufrou? I see those French lessons are paying off. Da will be pleased to know it wasn’t a waste of money after all!” he teased.
She slapped both hands over her mouth. “Don’t tell him, please!”
“Your secret is safe with me. Now how about that hot chocolate?” He scooped her up, tossing a giggling Ava over shoulder to take the short trek to the kitchens.
They were just outside of the gate that separated the large play area from the formal gardens when she started squirming and squealing, “Ewww!”
“What?” Murphy asked, looking at the disgusted little girl. “What’s wrong?”
“Liam and Lucy Ann,” she said, crinkling her nose.
“What about them?” he asked, confused.
“Snogging!”
“What?” His eyes widened as they followed the direction she was pointing.
There in the distance, by the broom shed, stood Liam and Lucy Ann locked in an intimate embrace. She was pressed back against the outside wall as Liam looked like he was trying to devour her with his mouth.
“They’re just as bad as Mum and Da,” Ava complained bitterly.
“You’ve seen them before?”
“Yes, they’re all kissy-kissy when they think no one is looking.”
“How long has this been going on?” Murphy demanded.
“Since they locked themselves in my room for hours.” The disgust in her voice was evident.
“I’ll have a word with Liam about that.”
“Please do, it’s gross!” She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. “C’mon, forget about them. I want some choccy biccies.”
This was a most interesting turn of events and he wouldn’t forget it. Murphy knew that if he only waited long enough, Liam and Lucy Ann would show their hand. Now they’d been caught red handed. He would have to give some thought about how he wanted to play this bit of information.
Did he want to share this bit of information with Mere and Stephie who would go straight to Lucy Ann or did he want to keep it to himself to use as ammunition when the need arose? He had an eyewitness after all…
Decisions, decisions.
A/N: Thank you to cupid12203 for the inspiration for this story. It grew out of a conversation we had one afternoon. Also thanks to dragonsangel68 for her lively and amusing plot discussions. And a huge thank you always to my darling beta, nokomis305.
The End.
Rainpuddle is the author of 23 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 8 members. Members who liked Amici ed Amanti - Biscotti also liked 1234 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 8 members. Members who liked Amici ed Amanti - Biscotti also liked 1234 other stories.
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